Setting Boundaries Isn’t Mean…It’s Survival

I’ve always known how to set boundaries. It’s not something I had to learn from a book or therapy session; it’s something that came naturally to me as a form of self-preservation. From the time I was a quiet two-year-old trying to watch a movie in peace, I knew how to defend my space, even if I wasn’t speaking much yet. My uncle kept pestering me, annoying me with taunts, pushing for a reaction And he finally said, “You look like a pig in the face.” and little two-year-old me, fed up and done, replied: “Well, if I look like a pig in the face, then you look like garbage.”

Everyone in the room froze. My uncle was so offended he accused someone else of teaching me those words. But the truth is, I said it because he crossed a line. I may not have spoken often, but when I did, it was with clarity; that’s always been who I am.

As I got older, that fire in me never dulled. I had no problem setting boundaries even if others didn’t like it. In second grade, a boy named Abraham kept touching me, inching into my personal space, calling me pet names I didn’t like. I told him to stop. I was firm, clear, and kind the first few times. But when he crossed the line during recess and called me “buttercup” one last time; I’d had enough. I swung my arm back and punched him in the back hard. He ran to the teacher, confused and hurt, and the teacher didn’t know what to make of me; the quiet, small girl who never caused trouble and finally snapping. I don’t regret it. He had been warned, just like my uncle. I may be quiet but I am never passive.

Throughout my life especially as a woman of color, I’ve encountered people who saw my boundaries as a challenge, a threat, or an invitation to test me. Whether emotional, verbal, or physical, I’ve always made it clear: do not cross this line. I’ve had boyfriends call me heartless because I called them out on their manipulative games. They wanted to test me. They didn’t expect me to hold them accountable; but I always do.

Some people say they respect boundaries, but only when they’re the ones setting them. The moment I make mine clear, I’m suddenly “too much,” “mean,” or “bitter.” Especially to people who struggle to set boundaries themselves. It’s like looking at someone who does what you’re afraid to do—and resenting them for it.

I’ve noticed this dynamic with so many people in my life. They’ll say, almost subconsciously, “You won’t like this person,” and every time I ask “why?”, it always comes down to the same reason “They’re a boundary-crosser. They’re toxic. They manipulate people.” So I ask, “Then why am I the one who’s seen as bitter, just because I won’t allow that behavior with me?” Instead of the person who is toxic being perceived as who they are.

The truth is, people who consistently cross others’ boundaries tend to dislike me from the jump. And that’s fine, I don’t want to be liked by people who thrive on manipulation or disrespect; but the people who admire my strength, who know I’m safe and consistent are the ones who sometimes frustrate me the most sometimes because they’ll set boundaries with me…not because I crossed them but because they know I’ll respect them. They feel safer testing their boundaries on me than the people who actually need to be checked. Yes, I’m proud to be a safe person, it can hurt/frustrate me sometimes to be treated with a little bit of distance or more distance than a boundary crosser; just because I’m easier to be honest with.

Respect is given. Trust is earned. And I give people both—until they show me why I shouldn’t.

I once had a former best friend who told me she didn’t like my boyfriend; that’s fine. We all have our gut feelings but he hadn’t done anything to heror to me. In fact, he was a much better partner than the last guy, who had abused me, cheated on me, and even kicked a small dog into a wall as “proof” that he wasn’t abusive to me. She had no problem with that guy. But the moment I found someone who actually treated me well, she couldn’t stand it.

One time, we were out on a double date. Something silly happened, and me and my boyfriend laughed; it was one of those inside-joke moments. She didn’t like it. She got mad. Later, she called him out of his name and disrespected him for no reason. I corrected her immediately. I didn’t care how close we were. I told her she had no right to speak about him that way. He had never disrespected her, never stooped to her level even though he knew she didn’t like him; and that was the moment I knew our friendship was over. It wasn’t just the disrespect. It was the audacity. The entitlement. The hypocrisy of being okay with an abuser but not a decent man. Her brother, may he rest in peace, once told her that I wouldn’t always be around because of how she treated people. He was right.

I’ve had a hard life but I’m not bitter. I’m not heartless. I don’t mistreat people. I don’t exploit others. I’ve always been the one to stand up for myself, even when no one else would. I set boundaries not to push people away but to protect my peace. I speak up because I’ve had to. There was never someone else who stepped in to advocate for me so I became that person for myself and even others.

Setting boundaries is not cruelty. It’s not cold. It’s clarity. It’s saying ”I value myself enough to not allow mistreatment. And I value you enough to be honest.”

If you struggle with setting boundaries, I hope you understand this it doesn’t have to look like yelling or fighting. It can be a calm sentence. A refusal. A redirection. A truth. “No” is a complete sentence. So is “I don’t like that.” And if someone is offended by you protecting yourself, they were never safe to begin with.

I run with scissors for a living; literally and figuratively. I take risks. I cut ties. I shape my space with precision. I don’t know what else to say except, I hope you find the courage to speak up for yourself, no matter who the person is.

The most loyal advocate you’ll ever have is the one inside you.