Replacing Control With Boundaries

A screen door latched shut with light coming through the mesh

There is a difference between what a “control” is and what a “boundary” is. A control is a rule you make for somebody else. A boundary is a rule you keep for yourself. Do you see the difference? Almost every exhausting relationship dynamic I see comes down to somebody trying to run the first one when only the second one is available to them.

The same situation, both ways

Let’s say your brother shows up to a family event. It is evident that he had too much to drink and it wrecks the evening.

Control version: you monitor his glass. Then you water down the drinks. You might ask your sister to talk to him or you plan the day around when he usually starts. As a result, you spend every gathering watching a man instead of enjoying your family.

Boundary version: you decide what you’ll do. “We leave at eight.” “We’ll host and let people know there will be no alcohol. If somebody’s drinking, we’ll take them aside, talk to them privately and say “goodnight” early. Making sure he or his family have a safe ride home or a designated driver. You can also say “He’s welcome at our house sober.” The first one requires his cooperation to work, which is why it never works. The second one requires only yours.

Maybe it is a coworker who dumps her work on you at 4:45 on Fridays.

Control: hint, complain, hope somebody notices, try to make her feel bad enough to stop.

Boundary: “I can’t take anything new after three on Fridays. Send it Monday. I’ll pick it up then.” Then leave at five.

Why boundaries feel weaker

People resist this because a boundary feels like less power. Well, in one sense it is. You’re giving up the fantasy of making somebody behave. What you get back is a rule that actually functions.

A control depends on another person’s compliance. A boundary depends only on what you do next. This puts the whole thing inside your own pile. That’s not a smaller power. It’s the only real one on offer.

How to build one that holds

The first thing to do is name the behavior, not the person. “I’m not available for conversations where somebody’s yelling” is a boundary. “You’re impossible” is a character attack. Character attacks will start a fight.

Second, say what you’ll do, not what they must do. That’s the mechanical heart of it. “If the yelling starts, I’ll step outside and we can finish later.” Notice there’s nothing in there for them to refuse.

Thirdly, deep it short. Over-explaining invites negotiation. The person who most needs the boundary will accept that invitation most every time. State it once and stop talking. That silence is going to be uncomfortable. As it should let it be.

Fourth, pick something you’ll actually do. A boundary you don’t enforce is worse than none because now you’ve taught them the words don’t mean anything. Don’t say you’ll leave if you won’t leave.

Lastly, expect the pushback. When you’ve been endlessly available, the first no generates noise. Noise is not evidence of sin. It’s evidence the arrangement was real.

The screen door

This is the picture I come back to constantly. It’s the whole philosophy in one image.

A brick wall keeps everything out. Nobody gets in, including the good ones, and it looks like strength while it’s actually just a lonelier version of fear. A screen door lets the air through. You can see who’s on the porch, hear what they’re saying, let the good in, and it still latches. It says I’m here and this far and no further.

Most people who’ve been hurt build walls, then wonder why they’re isolated. Most people who’ve been taught to be nice have no door at all, and wonder why they’re exhausted. The screen door is the thing in between, and it takes practice.

The wording that works

People ask for exact sentences, so here are some.

“I’m not able to do that.”

“That doesn’t work for me.”

“I need to think about it and I’ll get back to you tomorrow.”

“I love you and I’m not discussing this again.”

“I’ll be leaving at eight either way.”

“You can be upset with me about this.”

“No.”

That last one stands by itself. No is a complete sentence with a period at the end, and you’d be amazed how many grown women have never once used it without an attached apology and three reasons.

What boundaries are not

They’re not punishments. If you’re setting one to teach somebody a lesson or to make them feel something, that’s control with better vocabulary, and people can smell it.

They’re not announcements you make and then abandon. A boundary lives in what you do on the fourth occurrence, not in the speech you gave on the first.

They’re not walls in disguise. Cutting everybody off is not boundary work, it’s a different problem.

And they’re not about whether the other person respects them. That part is out of your hands entirely. What you control is whether you hold your own line when they don’t, which is the actual test and the actual work.

Where safety lives

Here’s the part that connects back to this whole series.

Control tries to make the world safe by managing the world, which cannot be done. Boundaries make you safe by governing what you’ll participate in, which can be done, today, without anybody’s permission.

That’s where safety actually lives. Not in the fantasy that you can arrange everybody, but in knowing that whatever they do, you know what you’ll do.

Start with one. The lowest-stakes one you’ve got. Say it plainly, hold it once, and see how the ground feels.

This is education, not therapy. If you’re in crisis, call or text 988 for the Suicide and Crisis Lifeline. If you’re in Kentucky and need help building doors instead of walls, that’s a lot of what I do. Circle of Hope Counseling Services.

Leaves Fall to Protect the Tree