Series: Therapy Speak, Decoded
Boundaries have had a moment.
In the last several years, the word has popped up everywhere — on Instagram, in self-help books, in everyday conversation. I need to set a boundary. She has no boundaries. He doesn’t respect my boundaries. It gets used so often, and in so many different ways, that it can start to lose its shape.
The version that tends to circulate online is fairly simple: boundaries are about saying no. Knowing what you won’t tolerate. Protecting yourself from people who take too much.
And that’s not wrong, exactly. But it’s incomplete in ways that matter. Boundary setting is complex, nuanced, and deeply relational — and the real work of it goes well beyond knowing what you won’t tolerate.
What Boundaries Actually Are
At their core, boundaries are about knowing what is okay for you and what isn’t — and being able to communicate that, navigate it in relationship, and live with the consequences when it’s not straightforward.
That last part is where most boundary conversations stop. And it’s where the real complexity begins.
Too Rigid, Too Loose — Both Are Problems
Boundaries can go wrong in both directions.
Too loose, and you can lose yourself. You accommodate, you absorb, you go along with things that don’t sit right — and over time, resentment builds. Not because the other person is necessarily doing anything wrong, but because you’ve been quietly abandoning your own needs to keep the peace.
Too rigid, and you become difficult to be in relationship with. Every preference becomes a line in the sand. Every discomfort becomes a violation. Rigidity can look like strength from the outside but often signals something more like fear — of being hurt, of losing control, of vulnerability.
Healthy boundaries aren’t a wall and they aren’t an open door. They’re something more like a gate — something you can open and close, adjust depending on context, and operate with some degree of intention.
Knowing What You Actually Need
Before you can set a boundary, you have to know what matters to you. And that’s not always as obvious as it sounds.
A lot of people come to therapy having spent years prioritizing other people’s needs, comfort, and reactions over their own. The idea of even asking what do I actually need here? can feel foreign, or selfish, or frightening. Especially if the message you received growing up was that your needs were inconvenient, or that keeping others happy was your job.
So the first work of boundaries is often internal: getting clear on what’s important to you, what feels acceptable and what doesn’t, and where the line is between a genuine limit and a preference.
Because those are different things — and collapsing them causes problems.
Safety Limits vs. Preferences — A Crucial Distinction
Some boundaries are non-negotiable. They involve safety, dignity, or fundamental values — and they are a yes or a no. There isn’t much to discuss. These need to be clear, and they need to be held.
But a lot of what we call boundaries are actually preferences. I’d like you to text me if you’re going to be late. I need some time to decompress after work before we talk about the day. I don’t want to spend every holiday with your family. These are real and legitimate needs — but they live in the territory of negotiation, not ultimatum.
In close relationships, preference-based limits need to be a dialogue. Your needs matter. So do the other person’s. Understanding what’s underneath a request — the feeling, the meaning, what it would say about the relationship if it were or weren’t honoured — is often more important than the specific ask itself.
And sometimes you’ll be out of preference. Your partner will be late and not text. You’ll spend a holiday somewhere you didn’t choose. That’s not the same as abandoning yourself — as long as it’s not the pattern, and as long as your needs are genuinely part of the conversation.
The Bark, Growl, Bite of It
One framework I find useful is thinking about boundary-setting in levels — something like the way a dog communicates escalating discomfort.
First there’s the bark — a clear, direct statement of what you need or what isn’t working. I need you to stop doing that. This doesn’t work for me. I’d like things to be different.
If that isn’t heard or isn’t enough, there’s the growl — a more serious communication that something needs to change. I’ve raised this before and it’s still happening. I need you to understand how important this is to me. If this continues, something will have to shift.
And then there’s the bite — the consequence. The thing that actually changes. Maybe it’s a difficult conversation. Maybe it’s stepping back from the relationship. Maybe it’s ending it.
Most boundary advice stops at the bark. But the bark only works if the other person believes you’re capable of the growl and the bite. And you can only get there if you’ve thought through what you’re actually prepared to do — and what it might cost you.
The Dilemma at the Heart of It
Underneath most boundary struggles is a tension that doesn’t get named often enough: the fear of losing yourself versus the fear of losing the other person.
If I say what I actually need, will they leave? Will they be angry? Will I be too much?
And on the other side: if I keep going along with this, who am I becoming? What am I teaching them about how to treat me?
Neither fear is irrational. Both matter. And sitting in that tension — without collapsing prematurely in one direction or the other — is genuinely hard work. It’s also often exactly where therapy becomes useful.
Stating a Boundary Is the Easy Part
With boundaries, telling someone what you need is often the harder part to imagine — but in practice it’s usually the easier half. What comes after is where most people get stuck.
When a boundary isn’t immediately respected, it doesn’t always mean the other person doesn’t care. Sometimes more conversation is needed — they may not have fully understood what you were asking or why it matters. In close relationships, expecting one conversation to settle things permanently is usually unrealistic. The distinction worth paying attention to is between someone who is genuinely trying to understand you, and someone who consistently isn’t willing to.
It’s also worth examining the belief that if someone really loved us, they’d just get it without being asked — or that having to ask more than once means we don’t matter. That belief can quietly become a reason to stop advocating for ourselves altogether, which doesn’t serve anyone.
Some people will not respect your limits, no matter how clearly or kindly you communicate them. At some point, you may have to decide what that means for the relationship. That’s not a comfortable truth — but it’s a real one.
If This Is Bringing Something Up
Boundary work is personal. It touches on how you learned to be in relationship, what you believe you deserve, and how much you trust that your needs matter.
If you’re finding it hard to know what you need, to say it, or to hold to it — that can be worth exploring in therapy. I offer individual counselling in person in Squamish and online across BC.
This post is part of Therapy Speak, Decoded — a series unpacking the words that show up constantly in therapy contexts and don’t always get explained. Because language that creates distance is the opposite of what therapy is for.
Jill Koehler, MA, RCC-ACS is a Registered Clinical Counsellor and Approved Clinical Supervisor based in Squamish, BC, with a focus on anxiety, trauma, and relationships.
