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Healthy Personal Boundaries: 18 Ideas for Conditions of Entry to Your Tribe

Healthy Personal Boundaries: 18 Ways to Set and Protect (Image Credit: Unsplash S Zolkin)

The only criteria for joining the human race is birth. Pity. Because with a few tweaks to the membership rules – like, say, the existence of said rules – the human race would be extraordinary. Parts of it already are of course, but parts of it suck. Perhaps there is a more eloquent description but that word rolls from me like marbles across glass and it’s not rolling back. So that’s the word it is.

[bctt tweet=”We can’t influence who joins the human tribe but we can influence who joins ours…”]

We can’t influence who joins the human tribe but we can influence which humans join ours. Here are some rules to think about for setting healthy personal boundaries. They’re more a guideline than a set of rules because like any rules, some of them can handle being bent a little, some a lot and some of them snap beyond repair at the slightest hint of infraction:

  1. Don’t compare me.

    Parts of me will be better, the same or worse than anyone else you know, but the combination of those parts, as with everyone else on the planet, will be unique. I fight against my own temptation to compare. I don’t want to have to fight against yours. 

  1. Don’t try to change me.

    The person I am is a collection of dismal falls, extraordinary flights and everything in between. I’m so far from perfect I can’t even see the directions from here, but at any time I’m the best I can be. I love when that’s enough for you – love it – but if you don’t like who I am you are under no obligation to stay. I won’t judge you for leaving but I will judge you for staying in the hope that you can make me into something else.

  2. Don’t judge me.

    There will be times I disappoint you. Sometimes because I’m wrong and sometimes because we disagree on what’s right. Then there will be those times that you disappoint me. None of us are perfect. Don’t judge me because my shortfalls are different to yours.

  3. Be crazy honest with me.

    There are so many different versions of the truth and it makes my world breathe that you you trust me with yours. If it should one day get to the point where you don’t believe what you’re telling me, then the truth is you’re wasting my time.

  4. Listen to me. 

    I don’t need your undivided attention all the time. I don’t even need it most of the time. But but when it’s important, listen. Put down your phone and turn towards me. Listen and ask me questions. Notice me. Of course, there’ll be times I just ramble about nothing in particular – ramble with me or just sit beside me. Those ones are up to you. It will just be good to have you around, happy with me being me.

  5. Be genuine.

    It’s the real you I opened the door to. Trust me enough to be yourself when you’re around me. If you need to be anything else, then you probably need to leave. Pretending will drain both of us soon enough.

  1. Share our emotional resources.

    Because sometimes it will be about you. Sometimes it will be about me. Sometimes you’ll need to talk. Sometimes you’ll need to listen. Sometimes I’ll want you to smother my insecurities with affection. And sometimes I’ll want to do the same for you.

  2. Appreciate me. And let me know if I miss a beat. 

    Understand that I give what I give and do what I do because I want to, not because you’re entitled to it. If you’re feeling unappreciated by me, let me know so I can put it right. Sometimes I might take you for granted. Not because it’s how I feel but because sometimes life gets in the way of me appreciating what’s important. I can be ‘not-great’ like that, but if you’re part of my tribe then you matter and I’ll do whatever I need to do to turn it around. 

  3. Don’t criticise me. Because it will never be ‘constructive’.

    Criticism is criticism. Fullstop. Of course, if I ask you for your honest opinion then go for it. Otherwise, it’s just fuel for a long-burning fire. I know my flaws. I’ve been living with them for a while. I have my insecurities under control but I’m only human and the right amount of criticism will always be able to fuel that fire. Let me know if something I do hurts you, otherwise, leave it alone.  

  4. Celebrate my wins.

    It will mean the world to me. There are plenty of people who find it easier to be a hero in someone else’s tragedy than to cheer when someone is soaring. Don’t be one of them. And when you’re flying higher than the flock, I’ll be your biggest fan.

  5. It’s okay to disagree.

    We don’t have to agree on everything. In fact, your spirit will be one of the things I admire. Trust that I’ll cope without your constant approval. Honestly. I’ll be fine.

  6. Be loyal.

    Don’t gossip about me and know how to keep my secrets. If I’m sharing them with you, it’s because I trust you – you’re one of the chosen few.

  7. Know how to apologise. And how to accept mine.

    Forgive me when I get it wrong – which I will sometimes – and know that I will always do my best to put it right. Letting it go means you would rather stay connected with me than score points over me. And that’s why you’re part of my tribe.  

  8. Keep your promises.

    If you can’t keep them. Don’t make them. It’s really that simple.

  9. Talk to me.

    About all sorts of things but especially about the things that matter. If I’m going to be in this, I’m in it at the deep end. Talk to me about what’s keeping you up at night and about what’s lighting the fire in your soul. Not everything we talk about needs to be deep, but know that I can only talk to you about the weather for so long before it feels like we’re only pretending.

  10. Be curious.

    Don’t be afraid to want to know more. Be curious about my day, my week, my life and me. It will mean something to me that you care enough to ask.

  11. Sometimes silence is perfect. 

    We don’t always have to talk If you can talk with me as easily as you can sit in silence with me, you’re a keeper.

  12. Laugh with me.

    Because I’ve never met a laugh I didn’t like.

These rules don’t exist as a numbered checklist to be whipped out just after the first ‘hello’. (If only it was as easy as that!) They’re the rules – before now unwritten – that I use for setting boundaries so I can be more deliberate about those I spend time with. 

I want people who I can be myself around and who can be themselves around me.  That doesn’t mean I’ll be close to everyone I meet – far from it – but there are too many amazing people in this world to spend time with those who dampen. Boundaries set the benchmark, and make way for more deliberate decisions about the cherished part of the circle – because we all deserve to be with those who give us flight.

What are the rules you set your boundaries by? There are no right or wrong ones and we’d love to hear about yours.

(Image Credit: Unsplash. S Zolkin)

2 Comments

Rick

There’s a quote somewhere: “Truth without compassion is cruelty.” Feedback is an important learning tool, and the time, place, way, and relationship all affect the receptivity of the feedback. Who’s needs are being worked on?

Reply
Mike Mckay

I liked most of this but some of the boundaries blur quite severely

“a judgement” is also an opinion, its also a criticism, its often also constructive because people CANT always see their own poor habits clearly, thats why they keep doing them over and over and they are also going to be crazy honest too

Its this kind of “do what I want when i want it” confusion that stops people from communicating effectively

Either you want the truth or you dont

Sometimes the truth will “feel” judgmental, but thats a total misnomer and almost a passive aggressive statement anyway

Saying someone looks beautiful is being “judgemental”, every opinion, view and outlook about someone is a judgement its just word play where people selectively use ones like judgemental when its stuff they dont want to hear, and rarely is connected to whether or not its true

I used to say as a throw away one line

“Other people are judgemental, but I just have opinions”

But sadly the irony in that used to go over a lot of peoples heads

But obviously none of this is a judgement or constructive criticism I am just sharing an opinion lol

Its easy to overthink things and subdivide things to the point where your own rules for discerning them are so complex even you struggle to categorise things never mind anyone else being able to segregate them

Truth is truth, sometimes it hurts, sometimes we arent ready to hear it, sometimes it will be just what we want to hear

but thats on us, not the person saying it

Reply

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Boundaries and belonging exist together, but how this works is something that takes loads of experience.

Children can’t learn respectful, kind, strong boundaries without someone who has modelled this over and over. It doesn’t have to be perfect every time, just enough times.

The presence kids and teens need from us is one that is warm AND strong. Love and leadership. They need both in the one person.

Strength without warmth will be experienced as controlling or bullying. Disagreement will come to mean rejection. To avoid rejection, they might be more likely to people please, say yes when they mean no, or denying their truth.

Warmth without strength will be experienced as ‘flaky’ or unreliable. If they don’t feel an adult leading, they will be more likely to take the leadership role from the adult. Someone has to fly the plane.

The third option is both - keep the boundary, add the warmth.

Make space for their disagreement, their ‘no’, and, hold the boundary with warmth. 

‘Warmth’ doesn’t mean dropping the boundary. It means being kind, and not withdrawing our affection because of their response. It means rejecting the behaviour, not them 

‘It’s okay to be angry at me. I won’t listen while you speak like that. Im right here. You’re not in trouble.’

‘I get why you hate this decision. It’s ok to be annoyed with me. I’m not changing my mind.’

‘It’s my job to keep you safe. I know it’s a tough decision and I’m not changing my mind. It’s okay to be angry at me.’

‘I care about you too much to let you do something unsafe. That’s my decision. I expect you’ll have a bit to say about it and that’s okay.’

If the give you information that does change your mind, it’s always ok to do that but make it clear it’s still a decision you’ve made in strength, not because you’ve been worn down: ‘What you said about … makes sense to me. I’d decided to change my mind.‘ OR, ‘Let’s talk about this calmly when you’re ready. What you’ve said about … makes sense to me. I’d like to talk about how we can make this happen in a way that works for both of us.’

This doesn’t have to be perfect - we’ll also reach the end of ourselves sometimes - it just has to be enough.♥️
Their calm and courage starts with ours.

This doesn’t mean we have to feel calm or brave. The truth is that when a young person is anxious, angry, or overwhelmed, we probably won’t feel calm or brave.

Where you can, tap into that part of you that knows they are safe enough and that they are capable of being brave enough. Then breathe. 

Breathing calms our nervous system so theirs can settle alongside. 

This is co-regulation. It lets them borrow our calm when theirs is feeling out of reach for a while. Breathe and be with.

This is how calm is caught.

Now for the brave: Rather than avoiding the brave, important, growthful things they need to do, as long as they are safe, comfort them through it.

This takes courage. Of course you’ll want to protect them from anything that feels tough or uncomfortable, but as long as they are safe, we don’t need to.

This is how we give them the experience they need to trust their capacity to do hard things, even when they are anxious.

This is how we build their brave - gently, lovingly, one tiny brave step after another. 

Courage isn’t about being fearless - but about trusting they can do hard things when they feel anxious about it. This will take time and lots of experience. So first, we support them through the experience of anxiety by leading, calmly, bravely through the storm.

Because courage isn’t the absence of anxiety.

It’s moving forward, with support, until confidence catches up.♥️
‘Making sure they aren’t alone in it’ means making sure we, or another adult, helps them feel seen, safe, and cared as they move towards the brave, meaningful, growthful thing.❤️
Children will look to their closest adult - a parent, a teacher, a grandparent, an aunt, an uncle - for signs of safety and signs of danger.

What the parent believes, the child will follow, for better or worse.

Anxiety doesn’t mean they aren’t safe or capable. It means they don’t feel safe or capable enough yet.

As long as they are safe, this is where they need to borrow our calm and certainty until they can find their own. 

The questions to ask are, ‘Do I believe they are safe and cared for here?’ ‘Do I believe they are capable?’

It’s okay if your answer is no to either of these. We aren’t meant to feel safe handing our kiddos over to every situation or to any adult.

But if the answer is no, that’s where the work is.

What do you need to know they are safe and cared for? What changes need to be made? What can help you feel more certain? Is their discomfort from something unsafe or from something growthful? What needs to happen to know they are capable of this?

This can be so tricky for parents as it isn’t always clear. Are they anxious because this is new or because it’s unsafe?

As long as they are relationally safe (or have an adult working towards this) and their bodies feel safe, the work is to believe in them enough for them to believe it too - to handle our very understandable distress at their distress, make space for their distress, and show them we believe in them by what we do next: support avoidance or brave behaviour.

As long as they are safe, we don’t need to get rid of their anxiety or big feelings. Lovingly make space for those feelings AND brave behaviour. They can feel anxious and do brave. 

‘I know this feels big. Bring all your feelings to me. I can look after you through all of it. And yes, this is happening. I know you can do this. We’ll do it together.’

But we have to be kind and patient with ourselves too. The same instinct that makes you a wonderful parent - the attachment instinct - might send your ‘they’re not safe’ radar into overdrive. 

Talk to their adults at school, talk to them, get the info you need to feel certain enough, and trust they are safe, and capable enough, even when anxiety (theirs and yours) is saying no.❤️
Anxiety in kids is tough for everyone - kids and the adults who care about them.

It’s awful for them and confusing for us. Do we move them forward? Hold them back? Is this growing them? Hurting them?

As long as they are safe - as long as they feel cared for through it and their bodies feel okay - anxiety doesn’t mean something is wrong. 
It also doesn’t mean they aren’t capable.

It means there is a gap: ‘I want to, but I don’t know that I’ll be okay.’

As long as they are safe, they don’t need to avoid the situation. They need to keep going, with support, so they can gather the evidence they need. This might take time and lots of experiences.

The brain will always abandon the ‘I want to,’ in any situation that doesn’t have enough evidence - yet - that they’re safe.

Here’s the problem. If we support avoidance of safe situations, the brain doesn’t get the experience it needs to know the difference between hard, growthful things (like school, exams, driving tests, setting boundaries, job interviews, new friendships) and dangerous things. 

It takes time and lots of experience to be able to handle the discomfort of anxiety - and all hard, important, growthful things will come with anxiety.

The work for us isn’t to hold them back from safe situations (even though we’ll want to) but to help them feel supported through the anxiety.

This is part of helping them gather the evidence their brains and bodies need to know they can feel safe and do hard things, even when they are anxious.

Think of the space between comfortable (before the growthful thing) and ‘I’ve done the important, growthful thing,’ as ‘the brave space’. 

But it never feels brave. It feels like anxious, nervous, stressed, scared, awkward, clumsy. It’s all brave - because that’s what anxiety is. It’s handling the discomfort of the brave space while they inch toward the important thing.

Any experience in the brave space matters. Even if it’s just little steps at a time. Why? Because this is where they learn that they don’t need to be scared of anxiety when they’re heading towards something important. As long as they are safe, the anxiety of the brave space won’t hurt them. It will grow them.❤️