Once Upon a Time, There Was a Girl With Boundaries

Sofa Conversations with D

Once upon a time, there was a girl who thought being a good person meant always saying yes.

Yes, I’ll come.

Yes, I’ll help.

Yes, I understand.

Yes, it’s okay.

Yes, I forgive you.

Yes, I’ll make it work.

She went places she didn’t really want to go. She stayed in spaces where she didn’t feel comfortable. She gave when she was already depleted. She swallowed things that hurt her because she didn’t want to create a problem.

She was understanding.

Sometimes, too understanding.

She could explain everybody’s behavior except her own exhaustion.

She knew why they did it. She understood what they were going through. She considered their childhood, their circumstances, their stress, their intentions, their feelings, and their side of the story.

Meanwhile, she kept asking herself to endure just a little bit more.

Because somewhere along the way, she had learned that being loving meant being accommodating.

Being kind meant being available.

Forgiveness meant everything went back to normal.

And keeping the peace meant keeping everybody else comfortable, even when she wasn’t.

Then one day, she learned a word that changed everything.

No.

Such a tiny word for something that can feel so terrifying when you have spent your life trying not to disappoint people.

No, I won’t be there.

No, I’m not comfortable with that.

No, you don’t get to speak to me that way.

No, I’m not fixing something I didn’t break.

No, I cannot keep carrying this for you.

No, I’m not sacrificing my peace so everybody else can remain comfortable.

And guess what? Everybody did not like the new vocabulary.

Because the people who benefited from the girl without boundaries sometimes struggled with the woman who finally had them.

Suddenly, she had “changed.”

She was “acting funny.”

She was “doing too much.”

She was “being difficult.”

But maybe she had changed.

Maybe that was the whole point.

She Finally Realized She Had Choices Too

Here is something I had to learn about boundaries:

A boundary is not me telling you what you are allowed to do.

You are grown.

You can make your choices.

You can invite who you want to invite. You can go where you want to go. You can maintain whatever relationships you choose to maintain. You can spend your money how you want. You can communicate however you choose.

A boundary simply says:

And I get to make choices too.

I get to decide whether I attend.

I get to decide whether I engage.

I get to decide how much access I give.

I get to decide whether something works for me.

I get to decide when I need to remove myself from a situation that no longer feels healthy.

That realization changed everything for me.

Because boundaries stopped being about getting somebody else to behave differently.

They became about deciding how I would respond.

I don’t have to convince you that something should bother me before I’m allowed to respond to it.

I don’t need a unanimous vote.

I don’t need everybody involved to agree that my feelings are reasonable.

And I certainly don’t need to turn my boundary into a courtroom argument with exhibits, witnesses, and closing statements.

Sometimes the explanation really is:

This no longer works for me.

That’s enough.

But Let Me Tell You About the Guilt

Because this part doesn’t get talked about enough.

Setting the boundary doesn’t automatically make you feel powerful.

Sometimes you feel terrible.

Especially when you have spent years being the person everybody could count on.

You will say no and then spend the next three hours wondering whether you should have said yes.

You will decline the invitation and wonder if you’re being petty.

You will stop fixing something for somebody and immediately think, But I could help.

You will create distance and then feel guilty because you know the other person may not understand it.

That’s when you have to remember:

Guilt does not always mean you did something wrong.

Sometimes guilt is simply the discomfort of doing something differently.

You’re breaking a pattern.

And patterns don’t always break quietly.

There will be moments when the old version of you wants to come running back.

She wants to explain.

She wants to smooth everything over.

She wants to send the extra text.

She wants to make sure nobody is mad.

She wants to sacrifice herself one more time because at least that version of life is familiar.

But you have to remind her:

We don’t live there anymore.

Boundaries Don’t Require Anger

This may be my favorite lesson of all.

I don’t have to hate you to have a boundary with you.

I don’t have to be angry.

I don’t have to wish anything bad on you.

I don’t have to announce my departure.

I don’t have to post a subliminal message.

I don’t have to make you the villain so I can justify protecting myself.

Sometimes I can simply acknowledge:

I love you.

I respect your right to make your choices.

And I’m choosing differently for myself.

There is so much freedom in that.

Because when you stop making boundaries about punishment, you stop waiting for the other person to understand them.

You’re no longer saying, “I’m doing this so you’ll realize what you did.”

You’re saying, “I’m doing this because I’ve realized what I need.”

That’s growth.

And No, She Didn’t Live Happily Ever After

This isn’t that kind of fairy tale.

She didn’t set one boundary and suddenly become a woman who never second-guessed herself again.

She still had moments when she wondered if she was being too sensitive.

She still wanted to rescue people.

She still had to fight the urge to over-explain herself.

She still loved people who could no longer have the same access to her.

She still had days when saying no hurt.

But something had changed.

She stopped abandoning herself just to keep everybody else comfortable.

She learned that peace maintained by her silence wasn’t really peace.

She learned that loving people did not require losing herself.

She learned that forgiveness and access were two different things.

She learned that she could have compassion for someone’s circumstances without volunteering to become collateral damage.

She learned that “I understand” could exist in the same sentence as “but I won’t participate.”

And most importantly, she learned that she didn’t have to become cold to become protected.

She could still be loving.

Still generous.

Still compassionate.

Still forgiving.

Still her.

Just with boundaries.

So no, she didn’t live happily ever after.

She lived honestly ever after.

She lived peacefully ever after.

She lived without constantly betraying herself ever after.

She lived knowing that other people were free to make their choice, and she was finally free to make hers.

Once upon a time, there was a girl who thought love meant having no boundaries.

Then life introduced her to herself.

And the woman she became learned that protecting her peace didn’t make her difficult.

It made her free.