Boundaries have become one of the most celebrated topics in self-help and wellbeing circles. Scroll through Instagram or TikTok and you’ll find endless affirmations reminding us to ‘protect our energy’ or ‘say no without apology’.
In many ways, this is a healthy trend. For generations, people – especially women – were encouraged to put everyone else first, staying stuck in patterns of martyrdom and over-giving, and as a result silently resenting others. Learning to voice our needs and say ‘no’ is a powerful antidote to burnout.
But what happens when boundaries, instead of protecting us, start to wall us in? This is one of the most undervalued conversations in wellbeing today. Despite the self-help industry expanding into a £35 billion market, millions still feel isolated and disconnected. In the UK, around 27% of adults report feeling lonely always or often. Could it be that some of the very strategies designed to empower us are also fuelling this loneliness?
As a hypnotherapist and coach, I’ve noticed an increasing pattern: boundaries being used not only to care for ourselves, but as shields to keep others out. Sometimes they protect us from toxic dynamics, as they should. Other times, however, they in fact sabotage our relationships, reinforce the walls around our hearts, and help us avoid the uncomfortable work of intimacy. Deep down, this often comes from fear of rejection, heartbreak or vulnerability, disguised as boundaries.
Let’s explore how boundaries can turn into barriers, why connection matters just as much as self-protection, and how to reframe boundaries so they become bridges – just as they were always meant to be.
My first lessons in boundaries
When I was 21, I worked with a life coach for the first time. She was the kind of coach who didn’t sugar-coat anything. At the end of each session, I felt like I had run a marathon, sweating from confronting my ‘good girl’ tendencies.
One of the biggest lessons? I had no boundaries. I always wanted to be liked. I said yes to everything, was constantly available for others, and often let people lean on me without limit. The result was exhaustion, chronic tiredness, and even physical health problems. In those early years, boundaries changed my life.
At their heart, boundaries are personal limits that protect our physical, emotional and mental wellbeing. They define what behaviours we find acceptable, how we want to be treated, and what we will no longer tolerate. Boundaries ensure self-respect and prevent resentment.
Think of them like the roots of a tree. Without roots, a tree topples easily. With roots, it can stand tall, flexible yet strong. Boundaries keep us grounded, steady and able to thrive. We set them with people, but also with things like technology use, work hours or daily routines. Boundaries matter. The problem isn’t their existence, but how we sometimes use them.
The shadow side of boundaries
The rise of boundaries in the online self-help world has brought both empowerment and distortion. Bite-sized reels, 30-second scripts and viral affirmations often strip away the nuance and compassion that true boundary-setting requires. Statements like, ‘I don’t owe you my time’, can be valid in certain contexts, but when repeated without awareness, they risk becoming cold and dismissive.
Here are some ways boundaries can slip into self-sabotage:
- Saying ‘no’ to invitations until friends stop asking, then feeling excluded without offering an alternative
- Ending a friendship at the first sign of conflict and calling it ‘self-respect’
- Ghosting someone under the banner of protecting your energy
- Claiming something doesn’t align with your energy whenever discomfort arises, using spiritual language to avoid reflection
- Using rules not as self-care but as control, making it impossible for others to meet your needs
In the moment, these choices feel protective. Over time, however, they cut us off from the very connection we crave, often masking unhealthy patterns while we blame others instead. Behind these walls, which we like to disguise as boundaries, is often fear: fear of rejection, intimacy, or being hurt again.
And when boundaries become armour, they don’t just block pain. They also block joy, intimacy and growth. As Brené Brown reminds us, true connection requires vulnerability. That might feel confronting, but it also holds the key to something deeper.
Why this really matters
There is something deeper hiding behind the shadow side of boundaries. Perhaps what we are really seeing is part of a much bigger trend in self-help: the encouragement of self-isolation. Advice such as ‘work on yourself until you’re healed’ or ‘cut out anyone who doesn’t align with your energy’ can sound empowering, but over time, it risks pushing us further into separation. Humans are wired for connection.
The Harvard Study of Adult Development, the longest-running study on wellbeing, has tracked people’s lives since 1938. Its conclusion wasn’t money or success, but something far simpler: the quality of our relationships. Strong connections predicted both health and happiness, while loneliness was linked to stress, illness, and even a 40% higher risk of dementia. In other words, being with each other isn’t just comforting: it is profoundly healing.
But what is even more interesting is that human connection has a subtle, measurable impact on our energy. A study found that the human heart generates an electromagnetic field that can be detected several feet away. Simply being in the presence of someone grounded and compassionate can bring our nervous system into harmony with theirs. Most of us have felt this without needing the science: the calm of sitting with a trusted friend, or the lift of being in a supportive group.
Community, then, is not just a nice idea. It is medicine. A compassionate group does more than help us feel emotionally held; it helps our bodies and hearts synchronise, creating coherence that ripples outwards. Perhaps this is the healing we have been missing all along: not fixing ourselves in isolation, but remembering that we were designed to heal together.
From walls to bridges
So, how can we honour our need for protection without closing ourselves off? By remembering that boundaries were never meant to be walls with the world. They were meant to be bridges, creating deeper connections. An overlooked part of boundary-setting is communication and the intention behind it, not simply cutting people off.
A wall shuts others out. A bridge allows us to cross safely, to meet each other halfway. Healthy boundaries can invite deeper connection when expressed with compassion and openness.
Here are some practical shifts you can try:
- Soften the language. Instead of saying ‘I can’t talk’, try: ‘I’d love to connect, but I need rest tonight. How about tomorrow?’ I once felt tempted to ignore a friend’s message because I was drained. Instead of ghosting, I said: ‘I’m low on energy today, but I’d love to talk later this week’. That small shift turned a wall into a bridge.
- Check your motivation. Is this boundary rooted in love (‘I need space to recharge so I can show up fully’), or in fear (‘I don’t want to have this sweaty palm conversation’)? Avoidance often disguises itself as boundary-setting, yet deep down, it may be fear.
- Allow flexibility. Boundaries can evolve. What you need today may not be the same next month. Extend that same flexibility to others too. If you expect friends to always reply immediately, rush to your side, or listen endlessly, you may feel let down when they cannot. The truth is, just as you need space sometimes, so do they.
Coming back to balance
Of course, sometimes abrupt boundaries are necessary. Walking away from abuse, ending a toxic work environment or cutting ties with harmful dynamics can be life-saving. Those boundaries are not just valid, they are vital.
But if every boundary feels rigid, if every ‘no’ leaves you isolated, that may be self-sabotage. A healthy boundary feels clear and expansive. It creates more room for love and authenticity. A fear-based boundary feels contracting; it shrinks your world.
The path back to balance doesn’t mean swinging from avoidance to all-in vulnerability. Often it is about small, safe steps of openness: saying ‘yes’ to one invitation, offering an alternative instead of cancelling, or allowing someone to support you in a small way.
A simple heart practice can help: place your hand on your chest, breathe, and ask yourself, ‘Is this boundary a shield or a doorway?’ Your body will often know the answer before your mind.
Perhaps the greatest boundary we can set is against isolation itself. And the greatest bridge we can build is back to each other.
