I believed I had to shrink in order to be safe. To soften every truth. To preface every need with an apology. But I’m learning a new way. One that still honors kindness—but doesn’t ask me to disappear in the process.
These are the boundaries I’m practicing right now. Not perfectly. Not performatively. Just honestly. Quietly. In real life. Maybe they’ll speak to you, too.
1. Saying “I need…” instead of “I’m sorry, but…”
Old script:
“Sorry, I just need a sec to think.”
“Sorry, this is probably silly, but can you turn that down?”
New script:
“I need a quiet minute.”
“This sound is too much for me right now.”
It’s subtle. But the difference is everything. One implies I’m wrong for having needs. The other affirms that they matter.
Try this:
Next time you feel an apology rising up, pause. Ask, What’s the actual need underneath this? And speak that instead.
2. Honoring My Sensory Limits (Even When It Disappoints People)
I used to force myself to stay at loud events. To hug when I didn’t want to. To tolerate bright lights and crowded rooms just to be “easy.”
Now, I leave when I need to. I step outside. I say no. I put on sunglasses indoors if I have to.
And guess what? The world doesn’t fall apart. The people who truly love me… adjust.
Try this:
Let your nervous system lead sometimes. You don’t owe anyone your comfort at the expense of your own.
3. Giving Leo Language to Name Their Needs
I see so much of myself in Leo—especially in how they try to be “good.” So we practice together.
I say things like:
“You don’t have to explain why you want quiet.”
“You can say no to touch and still be loving.”
“Your body gets to be the expert.”
And I model it, too. I don’t just say “you can rest”—I rest. I say “I’m going to lie down because I’m tired” and let them see that needs aren’t inconveniences.
Try this:
Model boundary language out loud—even when it feels clunky. Kids absorb your permission more than your instructions.
4. Letting Rest Be Sacred, Not Earned
There’s still a voice in my head that says: You didn’t do enough today to deserve this.
I’m practicing ignoring that voice.
I let myself rest because I’m tired. Not because I hit a milestone. Not because I made everyone happy. Not because I was “productive.”
Because I’m a human being. And I need rest.
Try this:
Make a ritual out of rest. Light a candle. Put on soft socks. Play instrumental music. Let your body know it’s safe to soften now—not later.
5. Replacing Politeness With Presence
I don’t want to be “nice” anymore if it means abandoning myself in the process.
I want to be real. Kind. Grounded. Present.
That means I don’t always nod and smile when something feels off. I don’t rush to smooth over discomfort. I don’t apologize for setting limits that feel true.
Presence over performance. Every time.
Try this:
When you feel the pull to “make it okay” for everyone else, ask: What would honesty sound like here? Then practice saying one sentence of it.
Closing Thought
Boundaries aren’t walls. They’re clarity. They’re compassion.
They say: This is what’s true for me. And I trust you to meet me there—or not.
I’m still learning how to live this way. But every time I honor a need without apology, something softens inside me. Something expands.
And that feels like home.
💌 Want more reflections on neurodivergence, boundaries, and healing in real time?