The Warrior of Boundaries

There are many lessons I came here to learn. But one of the most challenging—and the most profound—has been about boundaries.

For a long time, the word “boundary” was not even in my vocabulary. I struggled to set them in nearly every part of my life.

Life, however, is a relentless teacher. My lessons came through disappointments, betrayals, underpaid jobs, being undervalued at work, hiding my true self, battling imposter syndrome despite achievements, people-pleasing, and seeking validation.

Each painful experience pushed me again and again toward one truth: Boundaries are not optional—they are survival, dignity, and love.

Conversations That Changed Everything

Recently, a dear friend helped me see that even with my own child, I needed to hold clearer boundaries. The realization was uncomfortable but transformative.

In our conversation, I recognized how deeply my old “nice girl” syndrome still shaped me—constantly putting others first, softening my truth, and trying to ensure I was always “accepted,” “heard,” or “seen.”

But pleasing others had never truly brought me belonging. Instead, it left me exhausted and unseen, my boundaries crossed over and over again.

I learned that the nice girl is not a natural self, but a product of social conditioning, fear of rejection, and the survival instinct to belong.

The “nice girl” is: Too loyal, even when betrayed/Too dedicated, even when it costs her health/Too giving, even when nothing is given back/Too naive, too patient, too much of everything—except herself.

This mask followed me from my teenage years, when I would do anything to be accepted. It seeped into adult relationships, work, and friendships.

And so, I ask myself again and again: Where am I still hiding? Which parts of me do I refuse to see and honor? What fears keep me from stepping out of the “nice girl” role?

But here is the truth: the nice girl does not serve us. She does not serve the collective.

Boundaries as Sacred Acts

Setting boundaries is an act of love—for ourselves and for others. It is also an act of courage—to stand tall, reclaim our worth, and demand respect.

I learned that: Selling ourselves short is never the answer. We are the only ones who can set our boundaries. Kindness does not mean weakness—we can be loving while staying firm. I cannot preach about boundaries unless I set them for myself.

Boundaries are not walls that keep others out. They are bridges that protect our values, and our dignity.

Every time we say no to what diminishes us, we are saying a louder, stronger yes to who we truly are.