Reflection
Boundaries Start Before You Say No
We often think of boundaries as something we communicate: saying no, asking for space, leaving when we have had enough, or telling someone what does and does not work for us.
But perhaps boundaries begin earlier. Before I can communicate what I need, I first have to notice that I have a need.
When attention goes outwards
I have parts of me that are very good at adapting. They monitor other people, pick up on what others might need or prefer, and adjust accordingly.
Adaptability can be a strength. The problem is when my attention becomes so focused outwards that I lose connection with myself. I could be uncomfortable, hungry or tired without asking what I needed.
So I have started practising something basic: How am I doing right now? Am I comfortable? Am I hungry? What are my energy levels like? Am I enjoying myself? Do I actually want to stay?
There can also be a part that believes I should not have needs at all: I should be self-sufficient and not need too much from anyone else. Sometimes boundaries involve allowing myself to need, ask and receive.
My body gets a vote
Recently, while having dinner with friends, I noticed my body becoming uncomfortable. In the past, I would have stayed on the chair regardless. Being uncomfortable would not have felt like a reason to move.
Instead, I got up, walked around for a bit, then moved to the sofa, took my shoes off and put my feet up. I would not have done that even a few months ago.
Another day, I noticed I was hungry before lunch. I had brought a mandarin, but there is a difference between preparing for my needs and responding to them.
So I ate it. Hardly revolutionary.
Both represented the same shift: my body gave me information, and that information got a vote.
When I’m managing how I’m perceived
Sometimes overriding ourselves is not about not knowing what we want. We may know we are tired or ready to leave, while another part wonders: Will they think I’m rude? Selfish? Difficult?
Over-adapting can become a way of managing how we are perceived. Underneath may be a fear of criticism, judgement, disappointment, tension or disconnection.
The challenge is tolerating the possibility that someone else may not agree with my choice, and trusting that this can be okay. I can have needs, and the relationship can survive them.
Self-compassion matters too. It can be harder to offer ourselves the understanding we would automatically give someone else. If a friend told me she was unwell, exhausted or needed to go home, I would probably say, Of course. Go and look after yourself.
Sometimes I need to offer myself the same kindness.
When over-giving backfires
If I keep overriding myself to avoid disappointing someone, I may eventually become depleted or resentful.
I might also feel under-appreciated if I have gone out of my way without communicating what it cost me. The other person may have no idea that I stretched myself, and they cannot appreciate a cost they did not know existed.
Ironically, the resentment that follows can create the very tension or disconnection I was trying to avoid.
Boundaries can make relationships more sustainable, especially for chronic over-givers. They make limits visible and allow generosity to stay closer to something freely chosen.
That does not mean becoming rigid. Relationships need give-and-take. The aim is not to stop adapting, but to notice when adaptation becomes self-erasure.
Connected and protected
Terry Real’s Relationship Grid offers another way of thinking about this. On the boundary dimension, he describes a continuum between being walled off, where protection can come at the expense of connection, and being boundaryless, where connection can come at the expense of protection.
The healthier position is somewhere between the two: being both connected and protected.
I like this framing because boundaries are not about creating more distance. They are about being able to stay connected without either shutting people out or overriding ourselves to maintain closeness.
Having time isn’t the same as having capacity
A free afternoon in my diary does not automatically mean I have capacity for another plan. A free slot tells me I have time. It does not necessarily mean I am available.
The same is true when I am already with someone. If I have been socialising for two and a half hours and I am tired, perhaps that is enough. A friend recently put it beautifully: nobody gets a medal for staying until they are depleted.
I have also noticed how easy it can be to wait for someone else to say, Why don’t you go home?
That has a function. If they suggest it first, they are effectively agreeing that it is okay for me to leave. I do not have to be the one who introduces the boundary and then wonder whether they are disappointed or how my decision will be received.
It feels safer because someone else has let me off the hook. But it also hands some of my agency to them.
I do not need someone else to notice my limit, agree with it or give me permission before I respond to it.
Sometimes I can simply say, “I’ve had a lovely time. I’m going to head home.”
My preferences get a vote too
I have noticed the same pattern when making plans.
Previously, I might ask a friend, When would you like to meet? and then work around whatever they suggested.
Now I am more likely to check with myself first: Tuesday afternoon?
They can suggest Thursday instead. I am not demanding that we meet on Tuesday. I am simply putting my preference into the conversation rather than waiting for theirs and adapting myself afterwards.
I get a vote. I do not always have to win it, but I do not have to keep abstaining either.
Boundaries in the therapy room
The same principle applies in therapy. A therapeutic relationship needs warmth and flexibility, but also a clear frame around session length, contact between sessions, cancellations, fees and availability.
It is the therapist’s responsibility to know their limits, communicate them clearly and manage them consistently. The client should not have to monitor the therapist or work out where an invisible boundary might be.
If a therapist stretches beyond what they can sustainably offer, the client may reasonably assume that this is simply part of the relationship.
And if frustration does arise, that matters too. It needs to be noticed, mentalised and used thoughtfully in service of the therapeutic work rather than leaking into the relationship.
Clear boundaries can create safety for the client without becoming rigid. A good therapeutic frame can hold both boundaries and humanity.
Before the external boundary
In Internal Family Systems (IFS), there is a practice sometimes described as making a U-turn: turning some attention away from what the other person is doing, thinking or feeling and towards what is happening inside us.
What am I experiencing? What do I need? What would I prefer?
Before “I’m going to head home,” I have to notice that I want to leave. Before “Wednesday doesn’t work for me,” I have to consider what actually does.
We often picture boundaries as the confident moment at the end: the no, the request, the decision to leave.
But sometimes the process begins much more quietly: noticing myself, giving myself a vote, acting on the information and communicating simply.
My body gets a vote. My energy gets a vote. My preferences get a vote.
And so does the other person.
I can be here with you, while still being here with me.
Interested in how I use IFS in therapy?
You can read more about Internal Family Systems and how I use it in my work.