May: A Letter to Myself About Boundaries

Learning to protect my peace without guilt.

Dear Me,

There’s a part of you that still feels guilty every time you choose yourself. I know that. It doesn’t matter how many times you remind yourself that boundaries are healthy or that you're allowed to rest there’s still that small knot in your chest that tightens when someone seems disappointed in you. And the truth is, that knot has been there for a long time.

It started in places you couldn’t name back then. Moments where you were taught maybe not directly, but deeply that keeping others happy was part of your role. That being easy to be around was a kind of currency. That if someone was upset, you must’ve done something wrong. It made you careful. It made you stretch yourself thin. It made you feel responsible for moods, silences, reactions.

And because you didn’t want to be “too much,” you became someone who absorbed the “too much” from everyone else.

I don’t think people saw how much it cost you to be that version of yourself. Even now, most people don’t. You carry it quietly. You smile through it. You get things done. You return the call. You respond gently. You show up. Even when you're exhausted. Even when you don’t want to. Even when your own needs have been sitting at the bottom of the pile for days.

But here’s something I want you to remember—something I don’t think anyone told you clearly enough: It’s not your job to make yourself small so others can be comfortable. It never was.

You’ve done it for so long that stepping back feels like abandonment. Saying no feels like conflict. Putting your phone on silent feels like a betrayal. But you’re not abandoning anyone—you’re finally trying not to abandon yourself. That’s a big difference.

I’ve noticed lately that you’ve started to pause before saying yes. You’re a little more thoughtful with your time. You cancel when you need to. You protect your quiet moments with a little more care. And I know it still feels foreign. Like you’re breaking some invisible rule. But you’re not. You’re rewriting one.

It’s been hard to watch certain people pull away when you started to protect your peace. You didn’t expect them to react like that. You thought they’d understand. You hoped they would. And when they didn’t, it hurt. But maybe that’s what boundaries do—they show you who’s truly willing to meet you in a more honest way.

Some people only knew the version of you who gave and gave and gave. They’re still adjusting to this one—the one who checks in with herself first. The one who doesn’t pick up every call. The one who says, “Not today.” The one who is learning to be softer with herself than with her guilt. And maybe not everyone will get it. But the right ones will stay. The right ones will grow with you.

This isn’t about shutting people out. It’s about no longer leaving yourself out.
And that’s something worth practicing, even if you’re still figuring it out as you go.

So this month, I hope you keep choosing yourself in the quiet, everyday ways. Say no without explaining. Sit with the guilt without letting it run the show. Let silence be an answer. Trust that the people who truly love you will not demand access to every piece of you.

You are not a resource to be drained. You’re a person. A whole one. And you don’t owe anyone your exhaustion.

With quiet steadiness,
Me

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Your Turn to Reflect:

• Where have you been saying yes, not out of love, but out of fear?

• What part of you is still afraid of being misunderstood when you set a limit?

• How would it feel to choose peace—even if someone else doesn’t understand it?

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Resources to Explore:

• Book: Set Boundaries, Find Peace by Nedra Glover Tawwab

• Podcast Episode: When You Feel Bad for Saying No from Therapy Chat

• Journal Prompt: Write a letter to someone you’ve struggled to set a boundary with just for yourself. Say what you’ve never said aloud.

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A Gentle Reminder:

You don’t need to be understood to be valid. You don’t need to earn rest. You don’t have to give pieces of yourself away just to keep others close. You’re allowed to take up space in your own life. And if that makes waves, let it. It’s okay to choose yourself.

If this letter speaks to something you’ve been feeling, subscribe to keep walking with me. Month by month, we’re learning what it means to belong to ourselves.

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