Setting Boundaries
Boundaries. Such a big, scary word.
So many people have said to me, "I need to set better boundaries," or "It's not my place to keep them from crossing my boundary." Let me ask you this before you read any further: do you even know what your boundaries are?
If you answered yes, then my next question is - how's that going? Do people respect them? Are you happy with the relationships you have because of the boundaries you've set and the ones others have actually respected?
If you answered no, and thought I know what I want them to be... welcome to the majority. Somewhere along the way, we picked up this false narrative that if we set a boundary, others are just supposed to know what it is and respect it. And then when someone crosses it, we get angry or resentful — at them, for not reading our minds.
I explain boundaries like this: you — your body, mind, spirit, energy, needs — are a house. A house without a fence leads to risk, threats, people wandering into the yard. We would never build a house with no fence. So why, as people affected by others, are we not keeping ourselves protected?
The simple answer, for a lot of us: we don't want to disappoint anyone or hurt their feelings.
So because we want to protect the burglar's feelings, we're going to leave the back door unlocked. Right?
No. We would never do that, because it puts us — and everything we have — at risk.
And yet, when a friend takes more than they give. When a parent guilt-trips us into that dinner party. When a partner pushes intimacy further than we wanted. When we say yes when we really mean no — we don't protect ourselves. We don't use our voice. We don't ask for what we actually need.
Then we're angry at that person for "making us" do something we didn't want to do. And underneath the anger, we're full of shame that we didn't stand up for ourselves in the first place.
It's confusing. It's exhausting. And it doesn't have to stay that way.
Let me be clear: boundaries are selfish. And that's okay. Just like locking your door at night to keep others out, we're allowed to protect ourselves. We have to keep ourselves protected and our yards safe — otherwise, we end up damaged, hurt, or with nothing left to give anyone, including ourselves.
Boundaries aren’t just a yes or no. A boundary doesn't have to be a hard line. It can sound like:
"I don't have the energy for that today — can you check tomorrow?"
"I'm not able to make it to dinner, but could we find another night?"
"I'm not comfortable with that — could we try something else?"
It's you giving yourself permission to use your voice, and letting your nervous system know it can still be safe. You can still be liked. You can still be approved of. Setting a boundary doesn't cancel that out.
Sure, not everyone is going to agree with your boundaries — just like not everyone is going to love your house. That's fine. They don't have to come inside. And if the people who disagree with your fences aren't safe or respectful of them, then we keep them out. For good reason.
Next time someone asks you for something, and you feel that small glimmer of intuition rise up — the one that doesn't align with you, your energy, or your values — that's your sign. That's the moment to set a boundary, or simply ask for something else.
You don't need permission to protect your house.
