Boundaries Don’t Start With Words. They Start With Capacity.

I learnt about boundaries years ago.

I understood them intellectually. I could explain them. I could even teach them.

But knowing something and having it land are two very different things.

For years, I I still acted as if boundaries were about managing others.
Stopping them from asking too much.
Stopping them from crossing lines.
Stopping them from draining me, disappointing me, or (heaven forbid) being annoyed with me.

Late last year, boundaries landed for me - not gently, not gracefully - but with a ginormous thud.The kind that rattles around in your body and makes you realise you can’t “unknow” what you now know.

Because what finally landed wasn’t how to set boundaries with other people, it was this:

Boundaries aren’t there to protect me from others.
They’re there to protect me from myself.

Boundaries are actually about me taking responsibility for my own actions, energy, time, and emotions.

And once that landed, everything shifted. Which is both deeply empowering…and deeply inconvenient.

Because here’s the uncomfortable truth:

Most of the time, it’s not other people who are overstepping. It’s me.

Over-giving.Over-explaining. Over-accommodating. Over-functioning. Over-riding my own limits because it feels easier in the moment.

Boundaries don’t stop other people from being who they are. They stop me from abandoning myself.

And yes - I too am surprised it took me this long to get the memo.

The Part No One Really Prepares You For

Boundaries aren’t neat, straight lines.

They’re not bold black markers drawn once and for all.

They’re more like wavy lines, in varying shades of grey, with the occasional smudge and a few gaps where we go, “Ahhh… that one slipped.”

Because boundaries aren’t logical constructs. They’re felt.

They live in the body as a tightening in your chest, a heaviness in your gut, fatigue that whispers this is too much or the irritation that arrives before the words do

And most of us were taught to ignore those signals.

We were taught to be kind, to be generous, to put others first, to make things “easy”.

So when we do finally consider a boundary, it can feel awful, uncomfortable selfish and confrontational.

Like we might be seen as a contemptible scoundrel (my polite word for arsehole.)

Why Boundaries Feel So Bloody Hard

Boundaries aren’t about saying “no” nicely. They are about staying regulated while someone else is disappointed.

They ask us to tolerate:

• guilt without collapsing

• discomfort without justifying

• someone else’s feelings without rescuing

And that’s not a mindset issue.That’s a capacity issue.

This is where my work has shifted. I no longer see boundaries as a communication skill or a script to master. Instead I see them as a reflection of:

• nervous system steadiness

• self-trust

• emotional maturity

• the ability to stay with yourself when things get uncomfortable

You can’t hold a boundary if your system is flooded. You can’t maintain one if you’re exhausted. And you can’t keep one if your sense of worth depends on being liked.

Which is why so many capable, thoughtful, deeply kind women struggle here.Not because they don’t know better - but because their system has been stretched for a very long time.

Boundaries Aren’t Broken — Your System Is Overloaded

Here’s what I see again and again.

Women know their limits. They feel the tightening. They sense the "this is too much".

But when the moment arrives - the request, the expectation, the conversation - their system goes into survival mode.

So instead of choosing, they appease, explain, over-function, say yes when every cell says no

Not because they want to. But because their body has learnt that keeping the peace feels safer than holding the line.

Why “Just Say No” Advice Falls Flat

This is where so much boundary advice misses the mark.

“Just be assertive.”
“Say no without guilt.”
“You don’t owe anyone an explanation.”

All true. And all completely unhelpful if your nervous system isn’t regulated enough to tolerate what comes after. Because the hard part of boundaries isn’t the sentence.

It’s the pause. The reaction. The silence. The disappointment. The look.

If your body reads that moment as danger, it will override your best intentions every time.

Which is why boundaries can’t start with words.They have to start with capacity.

The Capacity Behind a Boundary

A boundary you can actually hold requires:

• Regulation - the ability to pause instead of react

• Clarity - knowing what’s a yes and what’s a no for you

• Self-trust - believing you’re allowed to honour that

• Tolerance - staying present with discomfort without rescuing

Only then does the boundary land cleanly.

This is why boundaries feel impossible when you’re depleted, hormonally fried, emotionally overloaded or running on caffeine, cortisol, and responsibility

You’re not failing at boundaries, you are exceeding your capacity.

The Quiet Gift of Boundaries

Here’s the part that surprised me most.

Boundaries don’t make us harder. They make us better.

Better in our relationships - because resentment doesn’t quietly build.
Better at work - because we stop running on empty.
Better in life - because we stop living in reaction mode.

Boundaries create safety.Not just for us - but for everyone around us.

They let us show up calmer, cleaner and more honest.

And yes, sometimes people won’t like them but that sounds like a them problem.

Boundaries aren’t something you impose on others.

They’re something you stay inside of.

And that, I’ve learnt (finally), is not about being tougher or better with words.

It’s about having the capacity to stay with yourself.