BOUNDARIES HAVE BECOME a buzzword in pop psychology and mainstream culture. We’re encouraged to set them with demanding colleagues, difficult family members, overreaching friends, rude people in public—and even with healthcare providers.
And for good reason. Boundaries can help you protect your time and energy, stop taking responsibility for things that don’t belong to you, and get clear about what you will and won’t participate in.
But lately, I’ve been wondering whether our enthusiasm for setting boundaries has exceeded what they can actually deliver. Could all this focus on setting boundaries actually be getting in the way of what you really want?
In my work with individuals, couples, and families, I sometimes see people successfully set a boundary—and end up with a relationship that’s even more strained. You held your ground. You said no. You stopped accommodating. And yet the outcome you really wanted—less conflict, more understanding, a better relationship—didn’t materialize.
Maybe the problem isn’t the boundary. Maybe you’re using a boundary to solve the wrong problem.
When “I Count” Is an Important Discovery
You may understand intellectually that staying connected to another person shouldn’t mean losing yourself—and still find yourself living by that exact script. You may have done it for so long that you don’t even realize it’s running on your brain’s autopilot.
If you’ve spent years accommodating others, learning to set boundaries can be transformative. If you routinely say yes when you mean no, avoid difficult conversations because you don’t want to upset anyone, or feel responsible for keeping everybody happy, giving yourself permission to set some limits helps you recognize something that may have gotten lost along the way: I count, too.
That’s an important psychological achievement. It just may not be the last one.
Standing Your Ground Without Pushing Someone Away
Once you learn to hold your ground, another challenge appears: What happens when the other person doesn’t like where you’re standing?
Maybe your spouse is disappointed by your decision. Your colleague thinks you’re being unreasonable. Your parent keeps offering advice you don’t want. Your adult child wants more distance than you do. Often nobody is behaving terribly. Two people simply want different things.
This is where a boundary can quietly turn into an attempt to control the other person. There’s an important difference between saying, “If you keep yelling, I’m going to end the conversation and we can try again later,” and saying, “You can’t talk to me that way.” The first tells you what I will do. The second tells you what you must do.
Of course, real conversations aren’t grammar exercises. The more useful question is: Does my well-being depend on the other person complying with my boundary? If the answer is yes, you may be using boundary-setting to try to control something you can’t actually control.
Whose Side of the Line Is It On?
Sometimes the easiest way to tell whether you’re setting a boundary or trying to control someone else is to look at what you’re actually asking to change.
| When I’m trying to control you | When I’m deciding what I will do |
|---|---|
| “I want you to stop saying anything about this.” | “I don’t want to keep discussing this.” |
| “I want you to agree with my decision.” | “I can make this decision even if you disagree with it.” |
| “I want you to approve of my choice.” | “I can accept that you may not approve of my choice.” |
| “I want you to stop being disappointed.” | “I can let you be disappointed without changing my decision.” |
| “I want you to see this the way I do.” | “I can listen to how you see it without giving up how I see it.” |
| “I need you to respect my boundary.” | “I need to decide what I’ll do if this continues.” |
Notice that the difference isn’t simply how the sentences are worded. In the first column, the solution depends on something changing in the other person. In the second, you’re taking responsibility for what you can actually control—your choices, your participation, and your response.
That second column can be surprisingly hard. The other person may still disagree with you, disapprove of your choice, be disappointed, or see the situation very differently than you do. You don’t have to make them wrong in order to hold your ground.
Holding Your Own AND Staying Connected
If you’ve spent years people-pleasing, learning to do what’s in the second column is a major accomplishment. You’re no longer making someone else’s approval the price of doing what’s right for you. You’ve learned something important: I count.
But relationships introduce another question: What happens to us while I’m holding my ground?
As a society, we seem to have gotten much better at learning how to hold our own. Maybe it’s time to get equally good at learning how to hold onto the relationship while we do it.
Holding onto the relationship doesn’t mean agreeing, giving in, or making sure the other person is happy with your decision. It means their experience matters even when it doesn’t determine what you do. You can say no and still care that they’re disappointed. You can hear their version without surrendering yours. You can make the decision that’s right for you and remain interested in why they wanted something different.
This opens up a Door #3 between two familiar extremes:
- Door #1: I give up too much of myself for you.
- Door #2: I expect you to give up too much of yourself for me.
- Door #3: How can we accommodate each other?
Door #1 is familiar to anyone who has spent years people-pleasing or over-accommodating. You count, so I accommodate you.
Door #2 is the understandable correction: I count, so I want you to accommodate me.
Often the person choosing Door #2 isn’t thinking, I don’t care what this costs you. They’re thinking, I finally learned to stand up for myself—and may not notice that the pendulum has swung all the way to the other side. Door #2 isn’t villainy. It’s an understandable overcorrection.
Door #3 is what comes next: I count. You count, too. How can we accommodate each other? Now the question isn’t which one of us wins. It’s whether I can take my own needs seriously while continuing to take yours seriously, too. Sometimes that allows us to discover a both/and solution—one that’s mutually satisfying. Sometimes it doesn’t, and my answer may still be no. Either way, I don’t have to erase your side of the equation in order to honor mine.
Is This Mine to Decide—or Ours to Negotiate?
Sometimes what looks like a boundary problem is actually a negotiation problem.
If I decide I’m not answering work emails after 7:00 PM, that’s largely mine to decide. If I won’t remain in a conversation where someone is screaming at me, that’s mine to decide, too.
But suppose my spouse wants more time together than I do. My adult child wants less contact than I want. My colleague and I have different ideas about how responsibilities should be divided. Those aren’t necessarily boundary violations. It’s simply two people in a relationship who want different things.
Calling something “my boundary” can be appealing because it creates a certain kind of clarity: It’s either you or me. But if the outcome involves both of you, declaring a boundary may prematurely stop the conversation when what you actually need is to stay at the table a little longer.
A boundary answers, “What will I do?” A negotiation asks, “What can we do?”
Negotiation doesn’t mean splitting everything 50/50 or giving up something important just to keep the peace. It means looking for a mutually satisfying solution before deciding that one person has to give in—or that the relationship has to give out.
What Are You Actually Trying to Accomplish?
Before drawing the next line in the sand, it may help to ask three questions:
- What am I actually trying to accomplish? What’s the outcome I want?
- Is this mine to decide—or ours to negotiate?
- How can I hold my own without unnecessarily damaging or losing the relationship?
Sometimes the outcome really is distance. Some relationships are unsafe or chronically destructive, and preserving connection isn’t always the right goal. But when a relationship matters to us, success isn’t measured only by whether we held the boundary. It also matters what happened to the relationship while we were holding it.
Boundaries helped many of us learn an important lesson: I count.
Maybe the next lesson is equally important.
I count. You count, too. Now what can we do with that?
Holding your own is important. So is knowing how to hold onto the relationship while you do it. If you’re struggling to do both, I can help. My Counseling with a Coaching Edge approach helps high-achieving professionals navigate differences and find better ways forward in work, love, and life. To learn more or schedule a consultation, visit DrJanAnderson.com.