In my fifth-grade yearbook, I won the illustrious award for being the “Most Easygoing.”
At the time, it felt like a compliment. Easygoing people are flexible. They’re accommodating. They don’t create problems. They help everyone get along.
For much of my life, I wore that identity proudly.
It wasn’t until much later that I began to wonder: Am I easygoing, or have I simply become very skilled at minimizing my own needs?
Many of the clients I work with ask themselves a similar question. They’re thoughtful, caring people who genuinely value relationships. But somewhere along the way, they’ve learned that keeping the peace is often easier than expressing a preference, setting a boundary, or risking disappointment. So they avoid difficult conversations and often find themselves saying yes when they want to say no.
What we often call people-pleasing isn’t simply a personality trait. It’s often a survival strategy.
As humans, we’re wired for connection. From a young age, we learn what helps us belong. For some people, that means being helpful, agreeable, or emotionally easy for others.
Sometimes people-pleasing develops because expressing needs felt risky. Perhaps conflict wasn’t welcomed in your family. Perhaps saying no led to criticism, guilt or rejection. Over time, your nervous system may learn a simple equation: “If I take care of everyone else, I’ll stay connected.”
What once helped us belong can eventually become the very thing that disconnects us from ourselves.
What Boundaries Actually Are
One of the biggest misconceptions about boundaries is that they’re designed to change someone else’s behavior.
In reality, boundaries are about our behavior.
For example, a boundary might sound like:
“If this conversation continues to focus on dieting or weight loss, I’m going to step away.”
Notice that the boundary isn’t an attempt to control what another person says. The other person remains free to continue talking about dieting. The boundary simply clarifies what you will do if that happens.
This distinction matters because many of us were never taught the difference between a request and a boundary.
“You need to stop talking about weight around me” is a request. The other person may agree, disagree, or ignore it.
“I’m not going to participate in conversations about weight or dieting” is a boundary. It doesn’t require anyone else’s compliance to be effective.
For example, imagine someone recovering from restrictive eating patterns in a family where conversations about weight, dieting, and appearance are common. Part of their healing may involve recognizing that these discussions are affecting their well-being.
Rather than trying to convince family members to change, they might say, “I’m working on having a healthier relationship with food and my body, so I’m not going to participate in conversations about diets or weight.”
Their family may not change overnight. But the boundary isn’t about controlling anyone else’s behavior. It’s about honoring their own needs and practicing saying those needs out loud.
Ironically, this is often what creates healthier relationships. When we stop trying to control other people’s behavior, we can focus on what is actually within our power: our own choices, participation, and presence.
Boundaries Look Different Across Cultures and Families
Much of the advice we hear about boundaries comes from a highly individualistic perspective—one that prioritizes independence, self-sufficiency, and personal choice. While these values can be helpful, they don’t always reflect the realities of every family, culture, or community.
“For many people, identity is deeply connected to family, culture, religion, and community, where loyalty, caregiving, and respect for elders are deeply held values.”
Because of this, setting a boundary may bring up more than simple discomfort. It can feel like a betrayal of one’s family, culture, or identity. A person may find themselves asking:
“Am I being selfish?”
“Am I abandoning my family?”
These questions often emerge because boundaries can challenge long-standing relational patterns. If a family has historically prioritized harmony over honesty, or obligation over personal choice, expressing a need may feel deeply unfamiliar.
This doesn’t mean we need to reject our families, cultures, or communities. In fact, many people find that healing involves staying connected to the values they cherish while becoming more intentional about the patterns they want to change.
For example, a person might continue caring for aging parents while also recognizing they cannot be available at all hours of the day.
In these situations, the work is often not choosing between connection and boundaries. The work is learning how to hold both. Because healthy boundaries are not a rejection of relationship. They are an invitation to participate in relationship while honoring and building self-trust.
A Practice for Building Self-Trust
When people think about boundaries, they often focus on what to say.
But before we can communicate a boundary to someone else, we usually need to learn how to hear ourselves first.
Many people with people-pleasing tendencies have spent years becoming highly attuned to everyone else’s needs while becoming disconnected from their own. One way to begin rebuilding self-trust is by listening to the body.
The next time you’re faced with a decision, pause before automatically saying yes.
Ask yourself:
• What am I feeling right now?
• What sensations do I notice in my body as I imagine saying yes?
• What sensations do I notice as I imagine saying no?
You might notice one option creates a sense of ease, relief, or expansion. Another might bring tension in the jaw, tightness in the chest, or a knot in the stomach.
There is no universal bodily “yes” or “no.” The goal is simply to become more curious and literate in your own experience.
You may also notice discomfort arise as you imagine setting a boundary. This is normal. Boundaries often feel uncomfortable not because they’re wrong, but because they’re unfamiliar.
When this happens, try gently moving between the discomfort and something that feels more grounding. This could be rocking back and forth, shaking your body, having your gaze rest on something you find neutral in the room, or noticing your feet on the floor then noticing the anxiety that comes up when you imagine saying no.
The goal isn’t to eliminate guilt, anxiety, or discomfort. Instead, this practice helps build our capacity to stay present with difficult emotions rather than becoming overwhelmed by them.
Ultimately, boundaries aren’t about getting other people to change. They’re about learning to tolerate and express, “My needs matter too.”
