Let us start by clearing up what boundaries are not.
Boundaries are not walls. They are not punishment. They are not a way to shut people out or control what others are allowed to do. And they are not something you only need if your relationships are unhealthy.
Boundaries are simply honest, clear expressions of what you need to feel safe, respected, and genuinely yourself in a relationship. They are the difference between a relationship in which two whole people meet and connect, and one in which one or both people gradually lose themselves in the dynamic.
A boundary might be about time, about how you communicate during conflict, about physical space, about what conversations feel appropriate, about how much of yourself you share, and with whom. Boundaries can be spoken or unspoken, rigid or flexible, firm or negotiable. What makes them boundaries, rather than walls or rules, is that they come from a genuine understanding of your own needs rather than from fear or control.
Healthy boundaries are not about keeping people out. They are about making it possible for people to enter safely.
If boundaries were simply a matter of knowing what you need and saying it clearly, most people would not struggle with them at all.
The reason so many people find boundaries genuinely difficult, particularly in close relationships, goes much deeper than communication skills.
For people who grew up in environments where their needs were dismissed, punished, or consistently overridden, the concept of having needs that deserve to be honoured can feel almost foreign. When expressing a need historically led to rejection, rage, or withdrawal from the people you depended on, the nervous system learns something very clear: it is safer not to have needs at all.
This learning does not disappear in adulthood. It shows up as an inability to say no, a compulsive tendency to put others first, and a deep fear that asserting yourself will cost you the relationship entirely.
For those with anxious attachment, boundaries can feel like an invitation for the other person to leave. If love has always felt conditional, if closeness has always required you to be agreeable and accommodating, then the idea of disappointing someone by saying no can trigger a level of fear that is completely disproportionate to the actual situation.
The nervous system is not responding to what is happening now. It is responding to what happened before.
Many people grew up in families, communities, or cultural contexts where boundaries were actively discouraged. Phrases like you should not feel that way, we do not air our grievances, putting yourself first is selfish, or good people sacrifice their needs for others are deeply embedded messages that shape how we understand our right to have and express limits.
Undoing that conditioning takes time, compassion, and often professional support
Relationships without healthy boundaries may not appear chaotic from the outside. They can appear warm, close, and functional. But over time, the absence of boundaries tends to create specific and recognisable patterns.
When you consistently say yes when you mean no, give when you are depleted, or stay silent when you need to speak, resentment builds. Not loudly or dramatically at first. Just quietly, steadily, like sediment settling at the bottom of something. And eventually it begins to colour everything.
In relationships without clear boundaries, it can become genuinely difficult to know where you end, and the other person begins. You begin organising your preferences, your moods, your needs around the other person rather than alongside them. Over time, you can lose touch with who you actually are outside of the relationship.
Many people without healthy limits oscillate between giving too much and then needing to withdraw entirely to recover. This push-and-pull is exhausting for both people in the relationship and is often experienced by the other person as inconsistency or emotional unavailability, even though it is actually a response to boundary depletion.
Relationships in which one person consistently has their needs met and the other consistently subordinates their own needs tend to develop unhealthy power dynamics over time. These dynamics can escalate into patterns of coercive control, emotional manipulation, and emotional abuse, particularly when one person’s lack of boundaries is paired with the other person’s tendency toward control.
This is something Tess works with directly in her practice. Understanding the trauma that drives both the inability to set limits and the tendency to push past them is central to creating genuine relational change.