4 Wonderful Things That Happened When I Started Honoring My Emotional Boundaries
Firstly, I Stopped Invalidating My Feelings and Started Asking for What I Need:
In my conversations with close friends and women I admire, I’ve discovered many of us struggle with this, especially when we feel afraid to admit our needs to our loved ones.
In relational contexts,
many of us (including myself) can step into passive forms of communication when we feel our needs aren’t being met. Especially our deep, emotional ones. In my case, I feel deeply loved and seen when my partner asks me about my day, or asks me deep, curious, and attentive questions about myself and what I’m thinking. I don’t always want to admit this to him because I feel stupid saying “can you please ask me deeply personal questions so I feel cared for and validated?” It takes extreme trust and vulnerability to tear down our defenses and admit our deep needs openly, and some of us believe that when we have to ask our partner for something, it makes it less meaningful because we had to voice it.
I don’t always believe this to be true. Although men obviously function differently than we do, in mutually trusting and loving relationships, he will want to know what you need in order to better serve you. Expecting him to magically be in tune with your needs without voicing them and resenting him otherwise isn’t fair, and withholding hurts the connection between you and prevents him from knowing how to love you better.
When I’m voicing my needs, I’m upholding an emotional boundary by not invalidating my genuine feelings and concerns. And if I’m voicing them in a way that also respects his boundaries, it will not come off in a controlling or manipulative way.
Of course, this is all within a healthy mindset and context—every situation and relationship is different, and we all have the luxury to design our own structure for what works for us. Ultimately, no one can ever meet every single one of our needs, and it’s unhealthy to expect anyone to do so. But being in a relationship means you’re a team now, and making your partner aware of what’s going on in your inner world so they have the chance to respond considerately is important. The way your partner responds to a boundary is extremely important to note, and you should make them aware when they haven’t responded in a way that’s respectful to you. Do this, however, without shaming them.
Some boundaries are in place to protect certain wounds, triggers or insecurities we deal with on the daily. It’s okay to change or soften your boundaries every now and then when the aforementioned things are no longer prevalent.
In friendship contexts:
I grew up being the friend in the group that went along with what everyone else wanted to do. For the most part, I was and am a chill person, so there genuinely weren’t many times when I had a true objection to doing what the majority had chosen to do. However, there were times when I kept my true opinions silent to keep the peace and/or appease everyone, and I didn’t realize how much I had ignored—and taught everyone else to ignore—what I actually thought and wanted.
I’d spend time with people to the point of exhaustion.
Neglected speaking up about things that were important to me.
Sink into passive-aggression instead of telling my loved ones what I needed.
Neglected to let others know when they’ve reached my limits.
Neglected to let my friends know when they hurt my feelings, made me upset, or were way too involved in my personal life.
I truly believe that many of us underplay the depth friendships have to offer, but we also underplay how easily we can become co-dependent on our friends if left unchecked.
By respecting my own boundaries, I also have to notice when I’m crossing theirs. We all have toxic traits we have to hold ourselves accountable for:
I’ve failed to notice when I’ve invalidated their feelings.
I’ve unburdened myself emotionally without considering if they were in the right head space to process with me.
I’ve been overly dependent on them emotionally.
I’ve failed to notice when I’ve not been fully present or been fully respectful of their time.
Others I am still becoming aware of and holding myself accountable to.
When deciding if our boundaries are healthy or not, we should remember that unhealthy boundaries always ask “how much can I give you at my own expense?” While healthy boundaries ask “how much can I give you while still honoring my limits and staying in tune with my needs?” It’s saying “this is where I stop and the other person starts, and there’s no need for me to ever invade their space.” When you’re overly involved in your friends’ life situations and feelings in a way that’s destructive to you, you’re crossing a boundary (and vice versa).
If you’re feeling invaded, invalidated, and exhausted from being around a friend or family member, they’re possibly crossing a few (or several) boundaries.
Another note about invalidating needs:
I’ve been working to stop cushioning my requests with unnecessary phrases. For example:
“Would it be cool if we met up at 7:30 instead? If not, it’s totally okay.”
“Do you think we could reschedule for tomorrow night instead? If not, it’s totally okay.”
It’s interesting how much I’ve said this, especially when I didn’t truly mean it. I’ve cushioned my requests with that phrase because, quite frankly, I’m afraid of rejection just as much as I can be afraid to be direct. Half the time, though, when I end my requests with that phrase, it's not truly “totally okay,” and it was important for me to realize I needed to start requesting what I need, even if it makes the situation a bit uncomfortable. It’s not worth it to over-inconvenience ourselves instead of valuing our feelings enough to voice what works better for us. And it’s not the other person’s responsibility to intuitively sense you don’t mean what you say.
There’s an intrinsic insecurity in a lot of us women and it subtly seeps into our interactions with each other and in the ways in which we communicate. I notice it when asking for help, proposing something different to what was said, when contradicting someone, or when accepting a genuine compliment or being proud of myself for an accomplishment. These interactions have become a social expectation among many of us—a silent code of sorts. It’s almost rude or impolite to be confident and direct, to value what you’re saying or doing enough to not feel the need to cushion it.
Saying “if not, it’s totally okay,” for example, is giving the person the choice to invalidate what I’m asking because I’m downplaying the importance of my request. A better way to rephrase my request would be:
“Something important came up. Is it okay with you if we postpone until 7:30?”
Other little cushions we really love to use are:
“Sorry,” especially when we have nothing to apologize for; “but yeah/so yeah/I don’t know,” especially when concluding an insightful thought or a presentation; and “I just…” especially when cushioning directness in our requests (i.e. “I just wanted to know if you finished your part of the project yet?”).
One of my top goals has been to stop—and encourage my girlfriends to stop—cushioning things that don’t need to be cushioned, to not shy away from directness, and to not be afraid of asking for what they need. Our feelings and boundaries deserve just as much respect as others.
2) I realized many of my boundaries were actually walls, and my defense mechanisms were over-protective.
I used to really be put off by the phrase “I’m an open book.”
I wouldn’t have been able to explain my discomfort too much a few years ago, other than my natural aversion to letting people know too much about me. I liked keeping things to myself and processing them alone way before I was ready to share, if I even shared at all. I would sort of make every conversation feel like an interview, deflecting the attention off me and towards the other person (partially because I really was interested, partially because I refused to answer anything about myself). I was overly hard on myself, took myself way too seriously, and was extremely afraid to show any imperfections in front of people. But now, the more I’ve explored and learned to understand my inner world and its emotional functions, the more I advocate that vulnerability and openness leads to healing.
I’m still a work in progress on this one, but after years of mental rewiring and training my inner voice to be kind to myself, I’m able to just live my life without worrying so much all the time. Having limits on what information I share and who I share it with is a healthy boundary, but purposely making it difficult for people to get to know me at all is a wall, and walls aren’t conducive to emotional growth/acceptance. Boundaries keep me regulated in a healthy way, walls keep absolutely everything in and everything out. In my case, my walls were supporting a fear that I was boring and uninteresting to the general public, therefore refusing to allow anyone to figure that out, too.
These days, I’ve consistently found myself at a place where I I feel way more comfortable sharing things about myself with casual friends and acquaintances, especially the things I used to find really lame about myself. Once I got to the point where I genuinely liked who I was and what made me, me, I lost the fear of whether or not others would find me interesting. I find me interesting, and now I’m able to function off that plane of wholeness.
Side note: While I’m a big advocate for vulnerability and openness, it’s only productive in an environment that’s conducive to healing.
When creating healthy boundaries around your personal life/vulnerability, consider these questions: when you’re sharing something deeply personal about yourself, why are you doing it? Is your situation beneficial to the people you’re sharing with? Will their response provide insight/healing to your experience? Do they know you well enough (and have your best intentions at heart) to provide you with the response you need? Are you oversharing to fill a deep desire for connection before it’s been built (a false sense of intimacy), truly finding solace, or ultimately a lack of emotional boundaries?
Simply put: I love this one because I saved myself so much energy when I stopped doing things I didn’t actually want to do.
Also, like my father, I tend to overextend myself socially because I enjoy pleasing the people I care about. I would literally make plans with one friend and then make plans with another around the same time because I wanted to love both of them and didn’t want to say no to either. In my head, I genuinely (and illogically) believed I could fight time and make both plans work out. Instead, I’d almost always leave one person hanging, feeling slightly less valued than they would’ve if I’d just been honest from the beginning and chose an alternate time.
Learning to communicate “no” establishes to the people around me that I’ve set rules for myself, and I’ve claimed my power by being honest about when I can’t, don’t, and won’t do things.
4) I Stopped Assuming Too Much Emotional Responsibility for Other People’s Feelings.
I struggled (and still do) with this one for so long, especially as an empath, and I know a lot of the close people in my life still grapple with this as well.
I’ve recently learned that if someone is upset with me about something but they haven’t told me yet and refuse to have a conversation about it, it’s none of my business. That mentality has unburdened me. I understand how hard it can be to voice our needs, but it’s important for the people around us to carry their own emotional weight in our interactions by voicing the way we’ve made them feel (when they’re ready)—whether purposely or not.
I have so much admiration for someone who can tell me I’ve done something to offend them, or can tell me I’ve hurt their feelings or that I have made them angry. When they communicate this to me, they’ve pulled their weight in the relationship by telling me there’s a problem. How I respond to it is now my responsibility. Getting them to admit there’s a problem and then forcing it out of them is not. How they treat me because of their unaddressed problem(s) is also their choice and their responsibility.
All of this is fully relative to the situation you’re in, however. It’s definitely okay to still lovingly approach a friend or loved one to voice that you’ve felt something off between you two and are wondering if you’ve done something to make them feel disconnected. Especially for anxious/avoidant people, this can help establish a safe place for them to voice what’s bothering them. It’s also definitely okay to own when you did something hurtful and apologize, even if the other person hasn’t come to you yet and expressed their feelings. Ultimately, all of this depends on the context of the situation or relationship.
Some other things I’ve learned:
Taking care of me doesn’t mean being a jerk in the name of “self-care,” and prioritizing my boundaries doesn’t mean completely invalidating other people’s feelings in the process. I can set my limits and know to recharge when needed (and as long as needed), but it’s just as healthy for me to pour my energy forward (productively) as it is withholding it.
Being emotionally sensitive is such a powerfully healing and moving quality, but only if handled with care, and with a deep sense of wholeness that honoring your boundaries contributes to.
Before you go, here are some links you should check out this week!
My best friend just uploaded a new make-up tutorial. (hint: she’s amazing)
I’ve recently followed @silvykhoucasian on insta, a relationship and boundaries coach, and her tips for navigating my attachment styles has been golden.
Also super in love w. @jnaydaily on instagram. I just love her whole vibe. And she has the most aesthetically pleasing apartment.