Why Boundaries Aren’t Mean — They’re Medicine

Let's start here.

Why are boundaries so hard? Why can something as simple as saying, no, I can't do that, feel like you're committing a crime? Why do some of us rehearse a text message for 30 minutes before sending it? Why do some of us explain ourselves until we're blue in the face? Why do we apologize when we haven't done anything wrong? Why do we add 17 reasons for why we can't do the thing? And then, and then, we still feel guilty.

Why? Why? Because for many of us, the problem isn't that we don't know what a boundary is.

The problem is that our nervous system has learned that boundaries are dangerous.

Maybe you grew up in a home where saying no wasn't allowed.

Maybe your parents' moods determined the emotional climate of the entire household.

Maybe you had to anticipate what other people needed.

Maybe you had to learn to be agreeable.

Maybe you learned that conflict meant danger.

Maybe you were punished for having an opinion.

Maybe you were called selfish when you tried to advocate for yourself.

Maybe you were made responsible for someone else's feelings.

And so you learned If I keep everyone else happy, I'm safe.

Mama, that's people pleasing.

And people pleasing isn't just being nice.

It's a survival strategy.

It's your nervous system trying to manage the environment around you so that you can feel safe inside of it.

So when you start setting boundaries, your nervous system might not immediately go, wonderful, healthy choice.

It might actually say, oh my goodness, we're in danger.

You say no and suddenly your heart is racing and it feels like it's in your throat.

You feel anxious.

You start second guessing yourself.

You want to send another message.

You want to explain it.

You want to take it back.