When your heart knows, but your head keeps adjusting
You feel it in your belly, in your chest, or in the space behind your eyes. A quiet inner tension that keeps building when you're about to cross your own limits again. Maybe you don't want to go. Maybe you're too tired, too full, or too overstimulated. Maybe you've already tried to express it, but it came out too softly, or not at all. So you go anyway. You stay too long. You smile too much. You explain things you don't actually need to explain. And afterwards, you're drained. Confused. Frustrated at yourself.
Many people recognize this. It’s not just about a single evening or one situation, but about a pattern. A deeply rooted reflex to adjust to the other person. Often, it’s so ingrained that you only realize afterwards that you’ve crossed your own limits. That your yes wasn’t really a yes. That your body actually said no – but your thoughts still said: “It’ll be fine. Don't make a fuss. You don’t want to be difficult, right?”
Healthy boundaries are not selfish
When you’ve grown up in a context where love was conditional, it’s almost impossible to feel where you end and the other begins. You didn’t learn that your feelings were allowed to exist without explanation. That your space was valuable, even if someone else didn’t like it. That your “no” was just as valid as someone else's “yes.”
In adulthood, this often leads to chronic adjustment. You’re hyper-attuned to others, overthink what’s socially acceptable, and feel guilty when you pull back. Not because you don't want to
connect – but because you’re afraid to disappoint. And so you stay just a little too long. You give just a bit too much.
But boundaries are not the opposite of love. In fact, healthy boundaries create the only real conditions for love to grow. Love without space becomes dependency. Love without clarity becomes confusion. And love without respect becomes exhaustion.
When the nervous system leads
What makes it even more complicated is that this isn’t just a mental issue. Your nervous system is involved. If you’ve had to survive by reading the room early on, by being alert to moods, by avoiding conflict, then your system is programmed for one thing: stay safe. And safe means: don’t say no, don’t be different, don’t stand out.
That mechanism doesn’t just disappear because you intellectually understand it. You have to unlearn it in the body. You have to give your system new experiences – of saying no and being okay. Of
choosing yourself and still being loved.
Example from practice
A client recently said: “I felt it while we were having dinner. I didn’t want to continue, but I couldn't stop it. I only realized later how exhausted I was. He didn't notice anything – I kept smiling. But inside, I just wanted to cry.”
That moment captures everything. The inner conflict. The loneliness. The old reflex. And also the beginning of something new – because she did feel it. She recognized the signal, even if she
didn’t act on it yet. That’s where it starts: not with perfection, but with noticing.
Your body always knows
The body is honest. It doesn’t lie. It shows you where you’ve gone too far, where you’ve bent yourself, where you’ve betrayed your own boundary.
Learning to listen to it again takes time. Compassion. And practice. Not as a project to fix yourself, but as an act of restoration. As the deep realization that your needs are not a burden, but
a guide.
Every time you feel that quiet tension rising – in your throat, your stomach, or your heart – it’s a signal. Not something to ignore, but something to honor.
Want to work on this theme?
Do you recognize yourself in this and want to work on your boundaries, patterns of self-sacrifice, or relational confusion? Then a reading, therapeutic session, systemic constellation, or QHHT
session might be a helpful step. You’ll find more about these sessions at www.heelde.org.
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