Boundaries taught me the joy of giving. (Yes—you read that right.) Here’s how.
Boundaries facilitate joyous giving. That’s not just something life coaches like me say to make you feel better about self-advocating—it’s the truth.
I’ve been breaking the people-pleasing pattern for over five years, and every year, my journey takes an unexpected turn.
This year, as I sat down for my annual end-of-year reflection, I asked myself: What are some of the greatest ways I’ve changed this year?
I was confused when something inside me said: Well, I’ve learned how it feels to really, joyously give. And it feels so, so good.
Now—hang on. 🧐
I know this sounds strange coming from a coach who spends every day teaching people how to set boundaries, self-advocate, and stop over-giving.
But… It’s the truth. Because those skills—boundaries, specifically—are exactly where the ability to give joyously comes from.
Boundaries & The Joy of Giving: A Two-For-One Deal
In order to experience joyous giving—genuine giving that makes us (and others!) feel light, free, and woven into the fabric of our communities— we need to stop over-giving.
When we over-give, we surpass our own limitations, grit our teeth against discomfort, and “give” even when it leaves us feeling bone-deep fatigue, resentment, and overwhelm. For the recovering people-pleaser, this place of over-giving is where many of us have spent the majority of our lives.
Once we break the compulsion to over-give, we can experience a rich, new terrain of giving—boundaried giving—that offers us genuine joy, love, and connection with other people. When we give within our own limits, we’re surprised when we find that giving energizes, nourishes, and connects us.
Personally, it took me five years to reach this point. I had to spend a few years really interrogating my relationship to the idea of giving, which, for this recovering people-pleaser, had taken on the doom-filled ambiance of self-betrayal.
But that fine line—boundaried giving vs. over-giving—makes all the difference in the world. Here’s an example:
Scenario 1: Over-Giving
It’s a blustery autumn day in Seattle, and I’m deep in my “people-pleasing era.” I’m strolling around the neighborhood when a girlfriend calls; she needs to process something. We talk—and by “we talk” I mean “she talks”—without interruption for two hours. She pivots from topic to topic, venting first about her partner, then about a family member, then her toxic workplace.
For the first 45 minutes of the call I feel capable, strong, and happy to assist my friend. But two hours in, I’m blind to the falling leaves around me because I have a pounding headache. I’ve long surpassed my own limitations, and instead of setting a boundary and telling my friend that I needed to go, I was “generous.”
When I get home, I feel burnt out and resentful. I’m frustrated that this friend could be “so unaware” of “how much she asked of me”—and need a long nap to recover.
Scenario 2: Boundaried Giving
I’ve been practicing setting boundaries for five years. I’m out running Sunday errands when a friend asks if I have time to help her process something. I say yes, pulling over into a parking lot so we can chat.
I listen attentively for 45 minutes, asking a few questions and helping her through a tough moment. When I notice my energy beginning to wane and remember how many errands I still have left to run, I say: “I love you and I’m here for you in this. I have to finish running some errands now, but I’ll text tonight to check in.”
When I hang up, I feel warmth in my heart at having helped a friend. I’m continue on with my errands, feeling energized instead of exhausted. Later that evening, I shoot her a text to see how she’s feeling.
What’s the difference?
In both of these scenarios, I gave of myself to another. But in the first scenario, I ignored signals that I was giving past my capacity. I didn’t speak up or set limits, and as a result, I left feeling resentful and—here’s the kicker—more disconnected to my friend than I had before.
Giving is supposed to bring us closer together—not propel us apart.
As I described in This Is The Difference Between Kindness and People-Pleasing, when we people-please or over-give, it’s because we feel like we can’t say no. We’re not making a noble choice informed by our values; we’re making a compulsive choice because we feel like we have to. When we give out of kindness, it’s because we could say yes or no, and choose, of our own free will, to say yes. We aren’t necessarily expecting anything in return. When we show others genuine kindness, we aren’t acting transactionally or following a preprogrammed script.
Recovering people-pleasers eventually learn that boundaried giving actually feels really, really good.
When I participate in boundaried giving, I feel connected to my friends, family, and loved ones. Instead of being isolated by my own over-giving—creating a hidden world of resentment and frustration inside my own mind—I feel like I’m part of something, the greater whole. This type of giving feels fundamental to being human.
Boundaried giving means I can really be there for my loved ones who are struggling. Instead of over-giving and then feeling tired and frustrated—(feeling resentful toward struggling loved ones is a truly awful way to feel, isn’t it? then you judge yourself for feeling resentful, and the cycle spirals!)—I feel connected to them in their hardship.
When I participate in boundaried giving, other people trust my giving. They trust that I will give as much as my limits allow, and no more—which enables them to receive my giving guilt-free.
Bottom line? Boundaries facilitate the joy of giving. That’s not just something life coaches like me say to make you feel better about self-advocating—it’s the truth.
When it comes to giving, “everything in moderation” couldn’t be more true. If it’s anything these past five years have taught me, it’s that over-giving does not yield the intimacy, care, or closeness we wish it will. But it does engender resentment, frustration, and disconnection from self and from others.
