OBSERVATIONS & OTHER ACCIDENTS

Boundaries: the fine line between care and coldness.

For some time now, I’ve been talking about toxic positivity. I’ve walked that path myself — immersed in a world of rainbows, unicorns, and The Secret, those times when negative thoughts felt almost criminal. How could one even think negatively, even with the world turned upside down?

Gratitude — yes, the much-acclaimed gratitude — that virtue we’re told to cultivate even as the world crumbles. Whether it’s small injustices at our door or wars devastating neighbours on other continents — no, please, no, it’s not your little Instagram flags or your neatly worded captions that are going to save anyone. Because a minute later, your brain is already on holiday, thinking about whoever’s beach photos are trending, or the outfit some influencer-who-shall-not-be-named decided to wear this week.
That toxic, false, cynically polished positivity has been making me feel sick for quite some time.

That said, I don’t want, in any way, to come across as “negative” or ungrateful for life. I consider myself a well-informed optimist — the kind of person who, in today’s world, is often labelled a “pessimist”. Let’s be clear: a “well-informed” person, a.k.a. pessimistic, doesn’t stop acting, doesn’t stop fighting for what matters, nor does she lose her capacity for pleasure or gratitude when it’s deserved. A well-informed person lives in the real world. Sees things as they are. Feels things as they are. Without embellishment, without overpriced New-Age vocabulary, without falling into bags of hollow, well-meaning slogans.

But today, I want to push it a little further. Today, I’m talking about the famous boundaries. The word of the moment in self-love; the gospel of the self-care universe; the very epitome of personal wellness.

I did a little research on Instagram and came across the following results: #boundaries — 2.9 million; #boundariesarehealthy — 292k; #boundariesmatter — 150k; #boundariesarebeautiful — 143k. And that’s just the beginning of the rabbit hole.

Boundaries: the word of the moment in self-love; the gospel of the self-care universe; the very epitome of personal wellness.

In an article published in Stylist — The September Fashion Issue — author and psychotherapist Charlotte Fox Weber writes that “the word ‘boundaries’ has taken on a kind of cultural halo.” She adds, “Ten years ago, clients might have said they didn’t want to be taken advantage of, or that they needed to get better at saying ‘no’. Now they declare, ‘I need to set a boundary’.”

And this is a crucial point: the line between care and coldness is razor-thin.

I, for one, had to suffer through a fair amount of pain before learning how to set boundaries against other people’s overreach. The fault was never theirs — everyone is responsible for themselves — but entirely mine, because, time and time again, even when someone clearly went too far with me, I didn’t know how to say “enough”.

The line between care and coldness is razor-thin.

Today, boundaries are essential — but only to a point. In this obsessive culture of “me”, in a world where we look at Instagram instead of each other, boundaries have become the word of the day. Online, they’re everywhere: “End that friendship!” blares one video; “Don’t call your sister if she’s draining your soul!” shouts another; “Refuse to engage in that repetitive conversation!” declares yet another.

In the past six months alone, at least forty-five books on setting boundaries have been released — What If You Stopped Saying Yes for 30 Days?: Let Go of People-Pleasing, Set Boundaries That Stick, and Take Control of Your Life in 30 Days, the Let Them theory by the famous Mel Robbins — and podcasts have multiplied like mushrooms, from Jay Shetty to Gwyneth Paltrow. They all call for one thing: cut, cut, cut. As if cutting off a human being were the same as throwing away a broken object. It isn’t.

I’ve lived it myself — friendships that, tired of hearing me talk about my toxic ex, vanished overnight, as if they’d moved to an island with no telecommunications. Who hasn’t had a friend in a terrible relationship who tested every inch of your patience? I have. One friend, three friends, ten. And yes, friendship is also about listening — endlessly, sometimes against your better judgement — being there even when it’s inconvenient.

That particular friend wasn’t cruel; she was simply conflict-averse — allergic to discomfort, really. Rather than saying, “I can’t listen to this anymore”, she vanished. A clean, silent cut — the kind we now call “protecting my energy”.

But that’s the thing: when you don’t know how to draw boundaries, you end up confusing who’s truly on your side. You let people step all over you, mistaking patience for loyalty, and noise for depth. Until, eventually, your own intuition — that quiet, persistent voice you’ve been ignoring — is the only one left worth listening to.

And that’s where the irony lies: we preach boundaries as the ultimate form of self-respect, yet half the time they’re nothing more than emotional avoidance dressed up as enlightenment. Somewhere between self-care and self-centredness, we’ve lost the plot. In a world obsessed with “protecting our peace”, we’ve forgotten how to stay present in discomfort, how to face one another without turning it into a performance of detachment.

We preach boundaries as the ultimate form of self-respect, yet half the time they’re nothing more than emotional avoidance dressed up as enlightenment.

And that’s where we step into another territory: real relationships, human relationships, intimacy. As I once read the quote: “The price of intimacy is conflict. When you avoid conflict, you also avoid intimacy.”

So often, boundaries — in their colder form — are nothing but walls built by people who don’t know, or don’t want, to deal with another person’s closeness. I’m not especially sociable; it’s not a flaw, it’s simply my nature. But when I give love or friendship, I give it fully, without fear. Honesty runs in my blood.

The price of intimacy is conflict. When you avoid conflict, you also avoid intimacy.

Unkown author

Some people turn limits into fortresses, self-care talk into excuses for indifference. And yes, it’s tempting — even comfortable — to believe that setting limits is a virtue, that exclusion equals protection. But beware: boundaries without awareness, self-care without empathy, make us numb.

And no, it’s not the performative kind of self-care — done between inspirational hashtags and brunch selfies — that changes anything. It’s genuine care, an attentive gaze, presence — even when uncomfortable, even when demanding.