This page offers a gently humorous British guide to setting healthy boundaries, written for the terminally polite among us who struggle to say no. Blending emotional insight with the quirks of British manners, it explores how to protect your time, energy and wellbeing without abandoning the courtesy and understatement that shape so much of British communication.
A Mildly Embarrassed Guide to Setting Healthy Boundaries in Relationships
If you’re anything like me, the idea of setting boundaries feels a bit like announcing to the room that you’ve suddenly become terribly important which feels really awkward.
Most of us would rather apologise to a chair we’ve bumped into than tell someone they’ve crossed a line. Still, boundaries matter however I try to avoid them. They keep relationships from turning into emotional car parks where everyone dumps their stuff and wanders off. So here’s a guide written by someone who’s learned the hard way and would quite like you to avoid the same mistakes.
Start by admitting to yourself that you’re not a professional counsellor. The British instinct is to soldier on, keep calm, carry on, and quietly fall apart in the privacy of the airing cupboard, but relationships work better when you acknowledge that you’ve got social and emotional limits. Think about what drains you as a weak and frail human being, what annoys you as a sentient being, and what leaves you feeling like a wrung out dishcloth at the end of the day. That’s usually the emotional landscape where a boundary is trying to form and make itself known.
Say what you need without apologising for existing. This is the tricky bit. You’ve got to speak. Out loud and to another human. Try something simple like, “I need a bit of space this evening” or “I can’t take that on right now.” You don’t need a speech. You don’t need a PowerPoint and you don’t need to apologise seventeen times. Just say the thing. Calmly. Preferably without sweating through your shirt.
Boundaries have to demarcate what is “Me” and what is “You” Jean Paul Sartre, the French existentialist philosopher, once said “Hell is other people”. The actual line is spoken by the character Garcin, in his 1944 play Huis Clos (No Exit) Garcin realises that the real torture in the afterlife is being trapped with other people and their relentless need for validation, judgement and attention. You get my drift?
Be clear, not cryptic. The British are a nation that loves subtle hints. We drop them like confetti and then get offended when no one picks them up. I worked with an American colleague for years and in the beginning, I tried being uber subtle which didn’t work well. If you need someone to stop doing something, say so plainly. If you need more time, say how much. If you need quiet, don’t rely on meaningful glances. Use actual words. They work surprisingly well as I found with my colleague. When I used real words rather than meaningful pauses we got on a whole lot better.
Expect a bit of wobble. People don’t always react well when you stop being endlessly available and eminently usable. They might sulk or look wounded or ask if you’re feeling alright. That’s normal. You’ve changed the pattern and humans are creatures of habit. Hold steady. You’re not being difficult. You’re being a functioning adult, which is far more alarming to others than it should be. I should say that in Britain people may think you’ve become strange as you set new boundaries, so, expect being judged.
Stick to your boundaries even when it feels awkward. There’ll be moments when you’re tempted to back peddle because it’s easier. Don’t do it. Boundaries only work if you keep them. Think of them like fences in a field. If you leave a big gap, someone will wander through and eat your metaphorical cabbages. Protect your cabbages.
Remember that boundaries aren’t walls. You’re not shutting people out. You’re letting them know how to treat you so the relationship can actually thrive. Healthy boundaries make things calmer, kinder and far less confusing. They’re not a sign that something’s wrong. They’re a sign that you’ve finally stopped trying to be everyone’s emotional concierge and you’ve realised that ‘Hell really is other people‘.
Further Reading
The Shape of Now: Meta Hub – This article is part of the Shape of Now Meta Hub, a curated collection exploring culture, politics, identity, and the present moment.