How to Set Boundaries… and Manage the Guilt
Sometimes it starts in the smallest moment—your phone buzzes with a request, and before you’ve even taken a breath, your brain is already spiraling with conflicting parts pushing and pulling:
Ugh, I really don’t want to open this text. I’m so tired and was looking forward to a quiet evening.
But what if they really need me and I’m the only person who can help?
I’m so drained. I don’t even know if I’ll be helpful.
But what if they get mad? Or disappointed? Or stop loving me?
And before you know it, you’re pulled into another conversation, typing, “Sure, no problem!” even though your entire body is screaming, “Noooooooo!”
And tucked inside that tiny internal tug-of-war is the whole story of why boundaries feel so hard in the first place.
I’ve often wondered—frequently in the middle of overwhelm, after overbooking myself, feeling resentful of people I love—why is saying no so frigging hard? Why does it feel like a crime against humanity?
Why is it so hard to set boundaries without feeling guilty?
Why Does Setting Boundaries Feel So Hard for People-Pleasers?
The answer is… it’s complicated. (Annoying, stereotypical therapist answer. Sorry… 😂)
The Cultural + Familial Roots of Boundary Guilt
For many people who are part of the BIPOC, immigrant, and LGBTQ+ communities in the U.S., boundaries come tangled up with culture, family, safety, and survival. It’s not just about saying “no.” It’s facing a legacy of being:
the strong one
the dependable one
the one who sacrifices without question
It’s also about not making waves—minimizing how visible we are to stay safe. It’s about proving we deserve belonging in a world that has always questioned it.
Look how hard I’m working. Look how helpful I am. Please see me as worthy.
Some clients share:
“It’s terrifying to think I might be a nuisance or burden.”
“When I choose myself, it feels like trouble.”
“My parents sacrificed so much—I can’t be ungrateful.”
Over time, we absorb these expectations so deeply that we become the fixer, the strong one, the person who holds everything up—the Luisa Madrigal of our family systems.
So boundaries feel dangerous. Selfish. Disloyal.
Given all of that, it makes sense that when we try to say no—a skill no one modeled for us safely—our nervous system hits the panic button and yeets that idea right out of our brain.
The Fear Beneath the Guilt
Guilt is just the surface. Underneath is fear—specifically, fear of disconnection.
Humans are wired for connection, which means that disconnection feels dangerous.
We learned:
If others are happy, I’m safe.
If others are disappointed, I’m in trouble.
But here’s the truth:
Real human connection is not earned through self-erasure.
Our fear of disconnection also shows up as a fear of being seen as selfish or ungrateful. We grew up in environments—both within white-dominant U.S. culture and our own families—where being helpful and endlessly accommodating was treated as proof of being a “good” person.
For those raised as girls or femmes, that message hit even harder.
So of course saying yes felt like the safest option. Of course being available became tied to worthiness.
What better way to honor our families’ sacrifices than to be good, grateful, and useful in a place that never fully saw them?
This isn’t about blame—it’s about understanding the water we’ve been swimming in.
There is also a very real fear that choosing yourself will hurt someone you care about. Even if, logically, you know that isn’t inherently true, your body might still react like it is.
For many of us raised by caregivers with traumatic histories or unmet emotional needs, we learned early on that their pain = our responsibility.
When that’s the template you’re handed as a child, your nervous system reads disappointment as danger.
If I disappoint someone, I’m unsafe.
You weren’t wrong for making that connection. You were adapting.
The Hidden Cost of Always Saying Yes
Always saying yes takes a toll on your body.
Chronic stress—from constant motion, people-pleasing, anxiety, and overfunctioning—wears us down. Burnout isn’t just emotional. It’s physical, spiritual, relational.
We need rest—all kinds of rest:
physical rest
social rest
creative rest
mental rest
emotional rest
sensory rest
spiritual rest
We lose connection to ourselves when we:
never choose where to eat because we don’t want to inconvenience anyone.
have no idea what we need because we never have space to ask.
anticipate everyone else’s needs while ignoring our own.
Over time, we start to feel invisible, overlooked, taken for granted. And resentment builds.
It’s almost as if saying yes to everything slowly erases you.
What Boundaries Actually Are
Here’s the reframe:
Boundaries aren’t walls. They’re doorways.
Boundaries create clarity about who we are and what we have capacity for. They help us build relationships rooted in honesty, not obligation.
Ask yourself:
If your best friend said yes only out of obligation, is that the relationship you want?
Obligation is not the same thing as kindness.
How to Start Setting Boundaries
(and Manage the Guilt)
Let’s break it down.
1. Notice the signals your body is sending.
Before responding to that text, pause. Check in.
Is your throat tight?
Is your stomach heavy?
Do you feel dread?
Your body is always the first one to know.
2. Slow. It. Down.
“Yes” has become automatic.
Try:
“Hey, I saw your question. I need some time and will get back to you tonight.”
“Can I have some time to think about this?”
3. Start small.
Do not begin with your parents. That’s the Olympics of boundary setting.
Let’s start with some tiny nos:
“I can’t make it, but thank you for thinking of me.”
“Just to be clear—are you asking me to do ___ or something else?”
“I can help for 10 minutes, but then I need to stop.”
“Actually, I’d prefer Thai instead of burgers.”
“I’m going to close my door for a bit.”
“I can send you the resource I use, but I can’t take this on.”
4. Expect + normalize the guilt.
Guilt doesn’t mean you’re doing something wrong—it means you’re breaking an old pattern.
Use the RAIN method:
Recognize the guilt.
Acknowledge/Accept it.
Investigate what’s happening in your body.
Nurture yourself through it.
5. Remind yourself what you’re protecting.
Your joy
Your health
Your peace
Your voice
Your life
Boundaries aren’t about perfection—they’re about honesty.
What Happens When You Break the Old Pattern
On the other side of guilt is relief. Spaciousness. Breath. A version of you that’s not just surviving, but actually resting, laughing, and living.
Clients often tell me they move from:
“I’m exhausted, but when I rest, I feel guilty…”
to:
“I turned my phone off, took a nap, and it was amazing.”
As guilt softens, something opens:
self-trust
the ability to dream
space to hear your own needs
presence instead of constant self-monitoring.
Learning to tolerate the discomfort of saying “no” reconnects you with your body, your intuition, your voice. Boundaries make room for the fullness of who you are.
And honestly?
Your wholeness—your inner wisdom—is your ancestors’ wildest dream.
A Gentle Invitation to Go Deeper
Listen, I know this work isn’t easy. It stirs up tender feelings, old fears, and long-held beliefs about love, loyalty, and what it means to be a “good” person. These patterns run deep.
You don’t have to untangle them alone.
For some people, weekly therapy offers the spaciousness they need. For others—especially those who feel stuck in the same cycles of burnout, guilt, and people-pleasing—focused, extended time makes transformation feel possible.
That’s the heart behind The Unburdening Intensive—a deeper therapeutic container for BIPOC & LGBTQ+ adults who have been carrying so much for so long.
If boundaries feel like betrayal…
If rest feels unsafe…
If choosing yourself makes your stomach drop…
We can work with all of that gently, at a pace that honors every part of you.
But whether or not we work together, I want you to hear this:
You are not selfish for having needs.
You are not a burden for wanting rest.
You are human. And humans need care, connection, and space to breathe.
Your people deserve the version of you who feels whole, rested, and real.
And you deserve that too.