Saying no sounds so simple.
But it sure isn't easy.
For a lot of my life,
I think I understood boundaries as something that we set with other people.
A line,
Or a limit.
Something that says.
.
.
This is okay with me.
And this isn't.
But the longer I work with boundaries in my own life,
And the more I talk about them with clients and groups.
The more I see them as something much more intimate.
Boundaries begin with the relationship I have with myself.
They begin with noticing.
Noticing what's happening in my body.
What am I actually available for?
Am I saying yes?
When some quieter part of me is saying no.
Am I agreeing because I genuinely want to?
Or because I'm uncomfortable with disappointing someone.
And maybe most importantly,
Can I get grounded enough?
To hear the answer.
Because when I say no from a calm,
Centered space,
It fills me with this feeling of tender strength.
And I've been relying on no again lately in a loving way.
No to carrying imagined burdens.
No to planning the next 10 years.
No to old stories.
No to rushing.
No to a packed schedule.
To neglected dreams or to expectations.
And know to solving every single problem right now.
And I don't think this word is negative in the least.
No has actually opened up more space in my life for surprise,
For support,
Rest.
Creativity.
And for the things I genuinely want to say yes to.
And sometimes the boundary isn't even for somebody else.
It's for me.
Are you worrying again about that scenario that may or may not happen?
Are you stressing about not feeling busy enough?
No.
Are you distracted from the messages in your body?
No.
Sometimes love.
Looks like a very clear.
.
.
I've got your best interests at heart and we are not doing this to ourselves today.
That's a boundary too.
Years ago,
My therapist shared a phrase with me that has stayed with me ever since.
Strong back,
Soft front.
I later discovered the expanded teaching.
Strong back,
Soft front,
And a wild heart.
Associated with Joan Halifax and Brene Brown.
I love this because to me it describes the embodiment of a boundary.
Strong back is standing tall.
It's resilience,
Steadiness.
And the capacity to remain centered during difficult moments.
And soft front is staying open.
Loving freely.
Allowing things to be as they are without needing to harden against them.
So a boundary then.
Isn't necessarily a wall that we build and fiercely protect.
I love the definition of a boundary.
As the distance at which I can love you and me simultaneously.
Because boundaries are equally an act of cultivating strength and great love.
For ourselves.
I think this is where the nervous system becomes such an important part of the conversation.
Sometimes we try to create a boundary.
When we're already overwhelmed,
Activated,
Resentful,
Or exhausted.
And by then the body may have been communicating no for quite some time.
Maybe the jaw has been tightening.
Maybe we're irritated by requests that normally wouldn't bother us.
Maybe we're exhausted after certain interactions.
Maybe we're avoiding someone.
Maybe we hear ourselves saying yes while simultaneously feeling our stomach drop.
Because the body often knows where a boundary is needed.
Before the mind has found the language for it.
So before I decide what boundary another person needs to receive,
I'm increasingly becoming interested in asking.
What do I need to give myself first?
Maybe I need to pause before responding.
Maybe I need a walk,
A few slower breaths.
Or a night to sleep on something.
Or simply enough quiet to distinguish my intuition from fear.
And nervous system regulation isn't at all about making ourselves calm enough to tolerate everything.
Nervous system regulation helps us create enough internal space to actually recognize what is ours to carry and what isn't.
And from there,
The boundary can become a response.
Rather than a reaction.
This is especially alive for me as a mother.
My daughter Hannah attunes to me.
Her body knows mine.
And she notices when I seem out of balance or off.
Often without even thinking about it.
And that has taught me a lot.
That what I give to myself is also a gift to those around me.
If I can pause.
Regulate,
Listen to myself and respond from a steadier place.
Not only caring for myself,
But I'm modeling something.
I'm showing her that we can take space without withdrawing love.
Or that we can say no and remain connected.
And that we can change our minds.
That we can have different needs.
And that loving someone does not require fully abandoning ourselves.
And believe me,
None of this is perfectly balanced.
I actually like to think of balance as a point that will forever waver.
Because whenever I think I found equilibrium,
Something happens around me or within me that requires a renegotiation of it.
And boundaries are a lot like that too.
Mine are constantly being tested,
Prodded,
Stretched,
And ignored,
Often by me,
By my wounds,
My ego,
And my old patterns.
Or sometimes I get so open and giving that I lose myself a little.
And I can just as easily turn quiet and closed and hard.
So the question really becomes,
How do I hold the balance?
But for me,
Boundaries are not rigid in nature.
That's just it.
They're always in flux.
Boundaries can change depending upon the relationship or the season or my capacity,
What I'm learning and unlearning.
Sometimes simply what kind of day I'm having.
The goal really isn't to find the perfect boundary.
And cling to it forever.
To keep listening.
To keep returning to the body.
To keep asking.
What allows me to remain both strong and soft?
And if you're exploring your own boundaries,
You might start there rather than immediately asking,
What do I need to say no to?
Instead,
You could ask.
Where am I noticing tension,
Resentment,
Or depletion?
Or,
Where am I saying yes when my instincts are telling me no?
Or where are my boundaries inconsistent or fully lacking?
Or can I give myself permission to change my mind?
What do I value?
And are the choices I'm making actually aligned with those values?
And a really simple question.
What is one small thing I could do to make just a little more space for myself?
You don't necessarily have to begin with a dramatic conversation or a hard line.
Begin with you.
Pause.
Feel your feet.
Exhale.
Notice what your body has been trying to tell you.
Give yourself enough space to listen before answering.
Because every relationship.
Begins with self first.
And boundaries at their root seem to be an ongoing practice of learning how to love other people without continually leaving ourselves.
Remember,
Strong backs.
Soft front.
And enough space inside to hear your own no.
And your own yes.
