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Where I end and you begin

People talk about personal boundaries a lot these days.
Usually in the context of protection: how not to let others violate your space, not to give in to pressure, not to deal with “toxic” people.
That is an important part, but not the whole story.

Personal boundaries are not only a shield, but also a map.
They show where I end and another person begins.
This is not always obvious. We grow up in families where we were often taught to adapt, to endure, to guess, to “be good.” As adults we may either defend ourselves to the point of rigidity or, on the contrary, dissolve again into other people’s expectations.
Both are a sign that our boundaries have not been recognized.

If we understand them rightly, it is all fairly simple:
you do what you can and want to do;
and where your will meets the will of another, a dialogue begins, an agreement, a free choice.

This is the adult form of contact, when no one compels anyone, even if one is stronger, older or higher in status.

But in reality it is more complicated.
We live in a world where the illusion of power over others is almost the norm.
A manager believes they can “own” their subordinates.
A politician, the people.
A partner, a partner.
A parent, a child.

Yet submission is always a choice.
Even when it seems there is no choice, there remains at least an inner decision: to agree or not.
Any power rests on consent, even if it is extracted by manipulation or fear.

So to speak about boundaries is to say not only “do not violate mine,”
but also “do not take on other people’s.”
Do not rescue, do not control, do not decide for others, do not impose yourself where you are not asked.

Respecting boundaries is a form of respect for life.
Your own and another’s.