Boundaries Aren’t Walls - They’re Invitations
Published JUN 07, 2026 On Substack
A number of years ago my counsellor said something that shook my understanding of who I was.
“You negotiate your boundaries constantly - changing with what others want. You don’t actually know what you want or need. You just don’t want to upset people.”
I’d thought of myself as flexible and considerate. He was challenging me to stop shapeshifting with every person’s values and opinions - and to discover what was truly important to me. To find ways to protect my values as a precious part of who I am.
It took time to understand what he was really saying. To see that my shapeshifting was feeding my anxiety and creating dysfunction in relationships I cared about.
He wasn’t asking me to become rigid or self-protective. He was inviting me to see that a valued boundary - held with warmth and honesty - is actually one of the most cherishing things you can offer another person. It invites them to do the same, creating an authentic relationship.
That reframe changed my life. From shapeshifter to change influencer.
Most of us learned boundaries as self-protection
A wall. A NO. A way of keeping difficult people at a safe distance.
But what if a boundary is actually an act of profound respect - for yourself and for the person on the other side of it? What if holding your ground, staying true to your values when someone pushes against them, is a way of saying: I believe we can do this in a healthier way. And I believe you are capable of more.
That’s a very different story than the one most of us were taught.
*** See endnotes about abusive relationships
Our values as our guide
In the last article we explored values as our magnetic north - the compass that helps us navigate life. But values don’t just live in quiet reflection. They show up in our relationships - in how we respond, what we tolerate, where we feel friction.
When we live outside our values - people-pleasing, overgiving, shrinking, overcompensating - we lose our sense of being a unique self. Relationships built on a shapeshifting version of us are built on sand.
When we clarify and name what truly matters to us - and say it out loud - something shifts. We stop drifting and start realigning our choices to what actually matters. We begin to recognize the people who can genuinely meet us there.
How did I come to value what I do?
Some values were given to us - by family, faith, culture, the particular water we swam in growing up. Some we chose in response to pain or longing. Some were never really ours at all - absorbed so early we mistook them for our own.
When we see our values clearly, we also begin to see where our life has drifted from them. Maybe we’ve been accommodating behaviours that violate what we hold most dear. Maybe we’ve been living someone else’s story so long we forgot we had our own.
The moment we start living more fully from your values, the relationships around us feel it. The dance changes. Not everyone welcomes the new steps - including sometimes the part of ourselves that learned long ago that staying small was the price of belonging.
What our triggers are trying to tell us
The things that make us angry, grieved, or passionate are rarely random. They’re values signals - often rooted in a story of perceived violation of something we hold dear.
Anger at injustice → we value fairness or dignity
Grief at disconnection → we value belonging or intimacy
Frustration at dishonesty → we value truth or integrity
Passion for someone’s potential → we value growth or cherishing
Our triggers aren’t our weakness. They’re our values knocking on the door, asking to be respected.
When someone else’s behaviour disturbs us, it’s worth pausing to ask: which of my values is being challenged here? That question moves us from overwhelm and overreaction toward clarity and intentional response. It also opens genuine curiosity about the other person - what value might they be protecting? What painful story do they carry? Knowing this can shift our approach from head-banging futility to something genuinely effective.
From a toe-crushing waltz to a smooth tango
Harriet Lerner’s Dance of Anger changed my life through her relatable use of dance to explain how relationship systems work. When we change our steps in a dysfunctional dance, we give ourselves the chance to live with integrity - and we give the other person the opportunity to change their steps too.
Not by fixing them. Not by explaining endlessly. Not by accommodating their patterns hoping they’ll eventually appreciate it. But by - often very uncomfortably - respectfully refusing to participate in what isn’t working. Offering a vision of something better. And holding onto our most cherished values in how we relate.
This isn’t punishment. It’s not coldness or contempt.
It’s saying: I believe you are capable of a healthier dance than this. And I respect you too much to pretend or act otherwise. You have a choice - and so do I.
That’s bold love. The kind that holds steady rather than overreacting, abandoning, or collapsing to keep the peace. The kind that believes in someone’s potential especially when it’s uncomfortable.
People find imagining a healthier relationship genuinely difficult. Everyone knows the steps to the familiar awful dance - change is like swimming upstream. But the safety and real enjoyment of a mutual, respectful relationship is worth the discomfort of getting there.
Boundaries as a gift
The old story about boundaries: I have to protect myself from you. Sadly, this version is thriving on social media as a way of dealing with uncomfortable relationships. (See endnotes about abusive relationships)
The new story: I care about us enough to be honest about what I can and cannot do - so we have a chance at something real.
A boundary held with warmth says:
I value this relationship enough to be real in it
I respect your capacity to handle my honesty
I want to understand what matters to you and why
I believe we can find a better way
I will not keep accommodating what diminishes either of us
I’m holding space for each of us to take responsibility for our own growth
When we stop overcompensating for someone’s dysfunction, we give them the gift of reality - and our genuine belief in their potential.
But what about their values?
Sometimes the person pushing against our boundary isn’t unhealthy - they’re simply different. Their values are genuinely different from ours. You value nuance. They value precision. The difference might be uncomfortable - but is one better than the other? Society has a place for both. We want surgeons and air traffic controllers to be precise.
Before assuming someone needs a boundary, it’s worth asking honestly: is this their dysfunction, or just their difference? And sometimes - is it actually my old story reacting?
The answer often lives in how we hold our ground. A boundary delivered with coldness and contempt slams and even locks the door. A boundary held with genuine curiosity -“I wonder what matters to you here, and why?” - keeps it open to new possibilities.
We can hold our own values with integrity and hold others’ values gently at the same time. Where there is good will, there are often creative solutions. That’s the art of cherishing in conflict.
Staying in the dance without losing yourself
I had a colleague once who needed to be the most liked person in every room. When someone else received warmth or appreciation, it became threatening - and the response, delivered with a smile, was quietly undermining.
For a long time I conceded the limelight. I told myself I was being kind. I understood why being liked mattered so much to them. But the dynamic was affecting healthy relationships across the team, and one day something genuinely shifted inside me. The undermining violated the very value I taught in every setting: everyone is worthy of core respect.
I could feel my posture, words and tone change. They visibly felt it - my unspoken truth:
I am an equal. Not better than. Not less than. There is no competition in being ourselves. You have real strengths. So do I. So does everyone here.
Holding that truth - choosing in this instance to not announce it but just live it - was uncomfortable at first. Like wrestling with an alligator, honestly. But over time they felt the benefits of mutual respect. We became more open and honest.
That’s what values-based boundaries can look like in practice:
Naming what we value rather than attacking what someone did
Staying curious about the value beneath their behaviour
Choosing responses that reflect who we want to be, not just what we’ve been triggered to feel
Recognising that their growth is their own work - our job is to stop making it easier to avoid
Offering a vision and experience of something healthier
We can’t manipulate someone into changing. But we can cherish them by refusing to dishonour them with the pretense that their behaviour is acceptable or tolerated. We can invite them to be a partner in a new dance. And write a new story.
The story a boundary tells
Every boundary is a small story about what you believe.
About yourself - I am worth being treated well.
About the other - Dysfunction diminishes you. You are capable of learning to treat yourself and others well. Neuroplasticity says so. New intentions and experiences will create new neural pathways.
About relationships - We can each choose to be our balanced healthier self - without twisting ourselves to overcompensate for someone else’s dysfunction.
When our boundaries flow from your values rather than our wounds, they carry a different energy. Not defensive. Not punishing. Living in truth and integrity - with warmth and courage.
I think of it as learning aikido moves. First we become aware of the dance sequence and story. Then we can choose to disrupt and redirect it - depending on the circumstances, our capacity, and our genuine interest in the relationship.
The moves might look like this:
Allow THIS healthy move. Step aside from THAT uncomfortable one and let it slide by. Block THIS harmful one. Step away from THAT whole nasty sequence. Demonstrate something healthy HERE.
Here’s a small example. The uncomfortable colleague approaches you at the office party. You greet them respectfully, sidestep the unwanted embrace, and glide toward the kitchen conversation. Later, from across the room, you ask warmly how their new role is going. Leaving, you decline their offer of a drive home - “Thanks, I like to keep work and personal separate” - and call an Uber. You say hello respectfully at work the next day.
Not fortress walls. Invitations to something healthier. Not taking responsibility for changing others - protecting your values, your safety, and your integrity.
I learned these principles from behavioural science. But I also had to embody them in my own alligator-wrestling matches with difficult relationships. Harriet Lerner quite literally saved my life a number of years ago. Thanks to social media I’ve recently been able to personally thank her. (See https://www.thecherishmosaic.com/jeannistory on the website)
Through sharing the idea of boundaries as gifts, many clients and friends have moved from feeling like victims of their circumstances to living with genuine joy and integrity.
Where in your life might a boundary actually be a gift to yourself and to someone you care about?
*** A note on abusive relationships
It’s important to set firm limits with anyone who is physically, emotionally, or in any way abusive or harmful to you or others. Find the circumstances and support needed to make safety the priority. By refusing to allow abuse, even the person causing harm has an opportunity to reflect and change - though that is not your responsibility to engineer.
Find all the support you need to live your core values wholeheartedly. When you feel grounded and safe, you may choose to engage in some healthy way with that person - or not. We choose who and how we are involved in relationships, in order to create a meaningful life based on our deepest values.
Further reflection
Current social media culture often recommends disengaging with anyone who causes discomfort - whether through genuine dysfunction, conflict or simply different values. The choice to live with personal integrity while negotiating challenging relationships isn’t an easy path.
But seeing boundaries as gifts - and holding creative space for everyone to have the opportunity to grow - is deeply rewarding. It’s the kind of maturity that healthy families, friendships, and societies genuinely need to thrive.
Would you like to discuss this in or similar articles in a small group setting where we focus on cherishing ourselves and others well? Comment below or join us for our Fireside Chats on The CHERISH Mosaic website. There you’ll find small group bookclubs, creative learning sessions (such as “Discover Your Values Zin and “Telling Your Story” and more).
Jeanni