Some boundaries don’t feel empowering at first.
They feel like loss.
You say no—and then question if you’re a bad person.
You cancel the call—and feel sick with guilt.
You stop explaining yourself—and wonder if silence makes you selfish.
This is the part no one talks about.
That sometimes the right boundary still hurts.
I’ve set boundaries that felt like grief.
Not because they were wrong.
But because I had to let go of the version of me who always made herself available.
The version of me who softened every edge so no one else would feel discomfort.
The version of me who earned love by disappearing just enough to be convenient.
Setting the boundary wasn’t the hard part.
Staying with the discomfort afterward—that’s the real work.
Here’s what I know now:
"Boundaries are not walls. They’re doors I choose to open or close based on alignment—not obligation."
Sometimes the people you love won’t like the door being closed.
Sometimes your nervous system will interpret silence as danger.
Sometimes you’ll wonder if the price of self-trust is loneliness.
But that ache?
It’s not abandonment.
It’s recalibration.
It’s your body learning a new way to belong—to you.
I have this ritual now.
When I set a boundary that brings up guilt, I place my hand on my heart and say:
"That was the old wound talking. Not my truth."
And I feel her—the younger version of me who used to confuse self-sacrifice with safety.
She doesn’t run the show anymore.
But I don’t shame her either.
I just keep showing her that it’s safe now.
Safe to choose myself.
Safe to say no.
Safe to stop apologizing for needing space to breathe.
If your boundaries are bringing up doubt right now—
If the silence after “no” feels like abandonment—
You’re not doing it wrong.
You’re just breaking a pattern.
And healing doesn’t always feel like liberation at first.
Sometimes it feels like letting go of something that once helped you survive.
But survival isn’t the assignment anymore.
Sovereignty is.
Let them be uncomfortable.
Let your old self grieve.
Let the guilt rise—and don’t let it run your life.
You’re not abandoning anyone.
You’re just coming home to yourself.
And baby, that’s holy.
—
Dee
(In your corner, always.)
I can really relate to this. I have been setting boundaries lately and stopping myself from being available every second of the day.