Part 1 of an ongoing series where I question Western psychology…

A couple of years ago, when I was in therapy, I was very big on boundaries. Everything was boundaries. Boundaries with family. Boundaries with friends. Boundaries with everyone. At the time, that made sense. It gave me structure. It gave me language. It helped me separate myself from dynamics that weren’t healthy.

But after coming out of therapy, and especially over the last six months, I’ve really started questioning Western psychology. Not because it has no value. It does. Some of it is genuinely helpful. But the longer I sit with it, the more I realize how many things are poorly framed, not well explained, or quietly contradictory.

One of the biggest things I’ve started questioning is this idea that you need to have explicit, verbal boundaries with everyone in your life.

I don’t actually believe that anymore.

I don’t believe you need to have explicit boundaries with every single person in your life.

If trust isn’t there, there is no relationship. What exists instead is management. And I don’t want managed connections.

Western psychology says boundaries are meant to protect your emotional and psychological well-being, not to control anyone else’s behavior. But this is where the contradiction starts, because in practice that’s not how boundaries function.

If I tell someone, I don’t like X, Y, or Z, and if you keep doing these things you won’t have access to me anymore, that absolutely affects their behavior. That person now has to screen everything they do through that boundary. That is behavioral pressure. It’s conditional. It’s a test. Whether psychology wants to admit it or not, that’s what it is.

So when psychology says boundaries aren’t meant to control others, but then subtly implies that setting boundaries might improve the relationship, that’s not intellectually honest. Either boundaries influence behavior or they don’t. You can’t have it both ways.

Western psychology also tells us that humans are creatures of pattern. That behavior is patterned. That character expresses itself through repeated behavior. That’s not just Western psychology. That’s universal.

So if that’s true, why would someone with an established pattern of lying, manipulation, or emotional dependency suddenly change because I set a boundary?

They won’t.

Unless they already want to change.

And if they already want to change, boundaries aren’t what’s doing the work anyway.

Boundaries don’t create character or motivation. They reveal what’s already there.

If explicit boundary conversations are required at the very beginning of every connection, that’s already information. Healthy dynamics don’t need to be negotiated into safety. You should already know what kind of people you want around you and what behavior you’re willing to accept or not. That’s an internal boundary, and it should come before trying to manage anyone else’s behavior.

This is why boundaries don’t make sense to me inside already toxic relationships. In unhealthy dynamics, boundaries are usually introduced after harm has already been done. After trust has already been broken. After patterns are already clear. At that point, boundaries aren’t preventative. They’re reactive.

You’re not setting boundaries from a healthy baseline. You’re trying to contain damage.

And more than that, setting boundaries inside a toxic relationship often just keeps you in it longer than you need to be. It creates the illusion of progress while the underlying pattern stays exactly the same. Instead of leaving when the truth is already clear, boundaries become a way of negotiating with something that was never going to become healthy.

If a relationship requires constant boundaries to function, then it was never healthy or equal to begin with. At that point, you’re not protecting yourself. You’re stabilizing something that shouldn’t be stabilized.

For example, why would I set boundaries with a liar? That genuinely does not make sense to me. A liar isn’t confused. A liar isn’t lacking clarity. Lying is a pattern. And patterns are character. If humans are creatures of pattern, then someone who lies habitually isn’t going to stop because I told them I don’t like it.

I had a former friend who was a chronic, habitual liar. They lied about who they were, and regularly misrepresented reality in ways that weren’t necessary. They also over-relied on friendships for emotional validation and support. They wanted reassurance instead of accountability. They needed to be told they weren’t wrong, even when they were wrong.

I did exactly what Western psychology recommends. I set boundaries after harm had already occurred. I stated what I did not like and what I wasnt going to accept, and then I gave them another chance.

Things were okay for a short period of time, and then they went right back to the same behavior.

That’s when it became clear this was never about me needing better boundaries. The relationship never started from a healthy, mutual place. It was about character. Boundaries didn’t change the trajectory. They just delayed the inevitable.

And I don’t even see those relationships as losses. They were gains. Dropping dead weight is always a gain.

This is why, for me, boundaries for YOU make more sense after you leave. As internal standards. As discernment. Moving forward, I’m just not going to tolerate people like that in my life. That doesn’t need to be announced. I walk in it. If someone’s character conflicts with that boundary, they’re removed.

Now, that’s very different from a relationship that started healthy.

Because in a healthy relationship, one that was mutual, grounded, and safe from the beginning, you’re not introducing boundaries after harm. You’re navigating normal human ups and downs.

Healthy relationships still have disappointment. They still have misalignment. People still miss the mark. That doesn’t mean the relationship is unsafe. It means it’s human.

In those situations, you’re not having a boundary conversation. You’re having a realignment conversation.

A boundary conversation assumes something is unhealthy or unsafe. A realignment conversation assumes the relationship was healthy and something shifted.

Realignment sounds like communication. It sounds like naming impact. It sounds like saying something didn’t land right. It sounds like recalibrating expectations. It does not sound like ultimatums or withdrawal.

This is where I think Western psychology really misses the mark.

An over-emphasis on boundaries conditions avoidance.

When people are overly focused on boundaries, it becomes very easy to label discomfort as a boundary violation instead of something that needs to be talked about. Boundary language gives people a socially acceptable way to avoid hard conversations. Avoidance gets reframed as self-respect.

But healthy relationships require communication. Especially communication around wrongs.

People who love you will disappoint you. Often they’re the ones who disappoint you the most. That does not automatically mean the relationship is unhealthy or toxic.

Boundary culture subtly teaches people that discomfort equals danger. That if something feels bad, it must be unsafe. That if you’re hurt, the healthiest response is distance.

That’s not how real intimacy works.

A healthy relationship doesn’t mean you never get hurt. It means you can talk about the hurt.

When boundaries replace communication, people stop tolerating normal relational discomfort. They stop practicing repair. They stop having necessary conversations. Relationships become fragile instead of resilient.

Being able to communicate wrongs is a core part of healthy human behavior. If someone can’t hear that they hurt you, can’t sit in discomfort, can’t reflect or attempt repair, that tells you something about their character.

But if you never allow space for that conversation because you’re too busy enforcing boundaries, you’re not protecting yourself.

You’re avoiding intimacy.

I’m not anti-boundary. I’m anti using boundaries to manage people, fix character flaws, or avoid necessary conversations.

Boundaries don’t create healthy relationships. Shared reality, trust, accountability, and the ability to repair do.

And if those things aren’t there, no amount of boundaries is going to make them appear.

xo Jessica