Building Walls and Mending Fences: A Journey with Boundaries

I will never forget the day when my therapist asked me this question: “Vivian, do you think you might be codependent?” I remember balking at the idea so severely that we couldn’t even talk about it again for a session or two. Me? Codependent? Nonsense! Just because I care about people doesn’t mean I’m codependent. And besides, caring about people to the point where I have intense anxiety whenever I can’t fix their problems is a good thing, right? It just shows the depth of my empathy, right? Right?

Oof.

After a few sessions (and a codependency inventory test), I realized that my entire way of feeling for other people was damaging me. Turns out endless support for others leaves very little support left over for myself. Then, my therapist introduced me to an incredible concept, something that could give me the space to love others but also the space to love myself. Boundaries.

My relationship with boundaries wasn’t immediately a smooth one. At the beginning, I didn’t dare set any boundaries with anyone, for fear that my worth as a person would somehow be diminished if I couldn’t manage everything for everyone. (The character of Luisa in Disney’s beautiful film Encanto comes to mind: “Who am I if I can’t carry it all?”) What if my friends didn’t like me anymore if I wasn’t as deeply involved in their personal problems? What if they got upset with me for not giving every single piece of myself to them every single day? How was I supposed to be a good person if I was constantly building walls between myself and the people I care about? Why would my therapist ever suggest that I could be healthier if I grew cold and apathetic toward my loved ones?

After a lifetime of always laying down everything for anyone, it’s a pretty big shift to suddenly have the ability to be picky. To have time for this person, but not that person. The space for this problem, but not that problem. The, what I have come to see as a, luxury of putting my own feelings first when it really counts. As my relationship with boundaries improved, I began to see how setting boundaries (and, more importantly, holding them) was making me feel. My body wasn’t tensing to sprint to the rescue every time someone complained to me. I was able to let things go that genuinely didn’t require my interference. It was liberating.

I realized that having boundaries wasn’t at all like building walls between me and my loved ones. I wasn’t cutting them off from me or keeping myself completely emotionally isolated from them. I wasn’t hardening my heart to them or becoming cold, like I had feared. Setting up boundaries was less like building walls and more like mending fences that had been broken down for quite some time. Establishing “your yard” and “my yard.” Keeping space for myself to breathe and be comfortable. I began to love my boundaries and, in turn, remember my love for myself and all the growth I have done and am planning to do.

Boundaries are not monoliths that keep others out. They are markers that establish how close others can approach you before they are trespassing on your comfort. They are not isolating, but rather give you solid guidelines in which to go about your business as a living, breathing person with feelings of their own to attend to. Boundaries allow you space to both give love to others and give love to yourself, from one side of your “yard” to the other.