Why Setting Boundaries Feels Like Betrayal (And What to Do About It)

By Mandy Lam, LCSW | Anxiety Therapist in NYC & NJ

If you've ever known, intellectually, that you needed to set a boundary but found yourself completely unable to actually do it, you're not weak and you're not broken. You're human, and you're probably carrying a very old story about what boundaries mean and what they cost.

Because for a lot of us, a boundary doesn't feel like a limit. It feels like a door slamming shut.

What comes up when we think about setting boundaries

When I ask clients what setting a boundary feels like to them, the answers tend to follow a similar thread. Does it feel like shutting someone out of your life entirely? Does it feel finite, like once you say it there's no going back? Does it feel harsh, even cruel, even when the thing you're asking for is completely reasonable?

These feelings are worth taking seriously, because they tell us something important: the discomfort around boundaries isn't just about the boundary itself. It's about what we believe a boundary means for the relationship, and for us.

For many people, even the thought of setting a boundary can feel threatening. Not just uncomfortable, but genuinely threatening, like something precious and irreplaceable is suddenly at risk. And when that's the internal experience, it makes complete sense that you'd find a way to avoid it, push through, and keep giving even when you have nothing left.

The question I always find myself asking

At some point in these conversations, I'll often gently ask: if a relationship is built on the condition that you don't set boundaries, or that you shouldn't need them, is this a relationship you actually want?

I know that's not an easy question. And I want to be clear that I'm not suggesting you blow up your relationships or cut people off. That's not what boundaries are, even though they can feel that way.

But it's worth sitting with. Because what that question is really pointing to is this: a relationship where your needs are treated as a threat isn't a relationship where you're fully seen. And you deserve to be fully seen.

When family makes it so much harder

Of course, things get significantly more complicated when we're talking about family. Especially when you've always been the reliable one, the problem-solver, the person everyone calls when something goes wrong.

There's often an unspoken role that gets assigned to certain people in families, and once you're in it, stepping out of it can feel genuinely dangerous. Not just awkward or uncomfortable, but like you'd be abandoning people who depend on you.

The thought that tends to live underneath all of this is something like: if I don't do it, everything will crash and burn, and then it will be my fault.

That belief is so worth examining, because it carries an enormous amount of weight. It positions you as the load-bearing wall of everyone else's wellbeing, which is an impossible and unfair thing to carry. And it makes the idea of asking for something different feel less like self-care and more like an act of destruction.

This is something I've had to work through in my own life too, the particular guilt that comes with starting to take up space in relationships where shrinking was always the safer option. It doesn't happen overnight, and it rarely feels clean or simple. But it is possible.

What boundaries actually are

One of the things I find myself coming back to with clients is this: a boundary isn't a wall. It's not a punishment, and it's not a rejection. At its core, a boundary is just information. It's you telling someone what you need in order to stay present and connected in a relationship.

Framed that way, a boundary is actually an act of care, for the relationship and for yourself. It's saying: I want to keep showing up for you, and this is what I need in order to do that sustainably.

That reframe doesn't make it easy, especially when the people around you have come to expect a version of you that doesn't have needs. But it does change the meaning of it, and meaning matters enormously when we're trying to do something that feels scary.

You don't have to choose between your needs and your relationships

The story that keeps so many people stuck is that it's one or the other: either you set the boundary and damage the relationship, or you keep the peace and abandon yourself. But that's rarely actually true.

What's often more true is that the relationships in your life have more capacity than you're giving them credit for, and that you've been managing everyone else's emotions for so long that you've never given anyone the chance to meet you differently.

Therapy is a place where we can start to untangle this slowly and carefully. We look at where the belief that your needs are too much actually came from. We work with the part of your nervous system that goes into high alert the moment you even think about disappointing someone. And we practice, in small and manageable ways, what it feels like to take up a little more space.

It's not about becoming someone who doesn't care about other people. It's about becoming someone who cares about themselves too.