My Thoughts: #1 What no one tells you about boundaries

If you prefer to watch it instead.

This is part one of a two-part article on boundaries. You can read part one here: My Thoughts: #2 When setting boundaries feels unsafe—but you choose it anyway

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It was quite a journey for me—learning how to understand, honour, and assert my boundaries. The memories of that process resurfaced recently when one of my clients brought up the topic in session.

There are so many promises floating around the internet—messages that suggest we’ll feel more confident, reclaim our autonomy, restore work-life balance, or finally experience peace, if we just learn to create that distance between ourselves and that thing (whether it’s work, family, or friendships). These messages make it sound like there’s a promised land we’ll reach once we master the art of setting boundaries.

When I first began this journey—without any psychological knowledge or mental health tools—these promises captivated me. As a recovering people-pleaser who would often give in without a second thought (while quietly burning with resentment), boundary-setting seemed like the way out.

It sounded simple: just say what I want or don’t want, and then I’ll feel confident. I’ll finally get the distance I need from that thing, and my sense of peace and freedom will be restored.

If only it were that easy.

Personal Story

I used to be in a group of friends who would mock me for their entertainment. They’d make fun of how lazy I was, laugh at my Mandarin, and constantly comment that I wasn’t a good enough cook. I never fully understood why they did it—or why it was considered funny—but I understood why I stayed in that dynamic: because my default mode was always to please. Not only did I keep quiet about how I felt, I laughed along with them—at myself.

One day, when one of them sent me yet another mocking message, I felt anger boiling inside. But this time was different. I had been exposed to psychological knowledge and tools around boundaries, and something within me shifted. I thought, maybe it’s time to set a boundary. Instead of laughing along, I replied:

"I don’t find it funny. I know you didn’t mean to hurt me, but it was hurtful. Please stop doing that."

After I sent the text, I was shaking—from both anger and fear. Anger from being mocked for so long, and fear of what might happen next.

She replied: "Ok."

My mind spiralled. I interpreted the “Ok” as cold and passive-aggressive. My inner critic kicked in:

Why couldn’t you just keep your mouth shut and laugh along? Sure, it wasn’t pleasant, but at least I could’ve avoided conflict and awkwardness.

And like me, if you’re surrounded by other people-pleasers, you might hear similar messages. My husband, for example, asked why I would risk confrontation over something so small. Wouldn’t it be better to let it go?

The moment I heard that, something rose within me. I raised my voice—not at him, but at the internalised voices that had been keeping me small for years. I was trying to drown out the spiral inside, not him. Now I can see—he was just as conditioned as I was.

But in that moment, I didn’t feel like I had arrived at some promised land of empowerment and peace. I felt afraid and uncertain. Speaking up didn’t feel freeing—it felt terrifying. I was filled with self-doubt, shame, and a loud, punishing voice that said: You shouldn’t have said anything in the first place.

Why Can’t I Assert My Boundaries?

Chances are, when we were younger, stating our needs came naturally to us. But somewhere along the way, our parents may have made our needs and wants feel not okay—especially when they conflicted with theirs. This could have shown up in many forms: scolding, frequent denial, or even shaming and guilt-tripping us for asking.

As children, we rely solely on our caregivers. Rejection or disapproval from them—our main source of safety and love—can feel like the end of the world. In response, we adapt. We learn to abandon our needs and instead focus on fulfilling theirs, because in doing so, we receive acceptance, love, or at the very least, less rejection.

By the time we reach adulthood, this dynamic has become second nature. We learn to anticipate others' needs, prioritise their comfort, and seek validation through being accommodating. In return, we hope to be accepted and to belong.

Over time, this habit filters the people around us. We attract those who enjoy being pleased by us, who benefit from our lack of boundaries. They may never ask—or expect—to meet our needs in return.

This reinforces the cycle. We continue to believe we must abandon our needs in order to maintain connection. It becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy.

For example, when I was a child, I often wanted toys like other children did. But my parents would tell me I was being selfish or disobedient for even asking. They’d say I didn’t understand that we weren’t rich. The disappointment and disapproval in their eyes terrified me. If my parents stopped loving—or even liking—me, it felt like I would have no one else in the world. That was an unbearable thought.

Years later, as an adult, I found myself in the same pattern. I was stressed and burned out at work. I finally spoke up to my supervisor about needing a lighter workload. But she responded by saying everyone was already at capacity and the company had no budget for extra help. I was told I needed to be “understanding.” So I abandoned my needs once again—and immediately accommodated theirs.

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This is part one of a two-part article on boundaries. You can read part one here: My Thoughts: #2 When setting boundaries feels unsafe—but you choose it anyway

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Hi, I’m Jasmine—a counsellor and Reiki practitioner. If you’re ready to start working on your boundaries, or explore support for your healing and self-discovery journey, I’d be honoured to walk alongside you.

Let’s chat—scroll down to book a free discovery call.