Zanele's Faith Journeys

The Hardest Part of Boundaries

Last week, I shared my thoughts on how to actually set boundaries: what to say, how to say it, and what to do with the guilt that shows up.

Sometimes, setting boundaries reveals things you weren’t ready to see. They show you who’s really in your corner and who was only there because you made it easy for them. And even in this, I encourage you to extend grace.

Why?

Because oftentimes, it’s not about you, it’s about them and some insecurity that they have (fear of rejection or overthinking, etc.). Just think about that for a minute (when you have some time), but I’ll be exploring that more in an upcoming blog post.

Sometimes, creating boundaries means letting go of relationships that require you to shrink or erase yourself.

And that’s the most challenging part.

And here’s something I’ve noticed: This clarity often hits hardest for women over 50.

It could be the post-menopause effect or the accumulation of decades spent putting everyone else first. But something shifts.

You stop caring about keeping the peace at the expense of your peace.

You stop pretending one-sided relationships are normal.

You stop making yourself smaller so others can feel comfortable.

And suddenly, relationships that you’ve maintained for years – decades even – start to crack under the weight of boundaries they were never built to hold.

This is why so many long-term marriages, friendships, and family dynamics shift or end during this season of life. Not because women over 50 suddenly become difficult or selfish. But because we finally see what we couldn’t (or wouldn’t) see before.

These relationships never served us well. We just didn’t have the clarity or courage to admit it. (I often beat myself up over my lack of clarity from the past. This means I have to extend grace to myself, too.)

Because learning the scripts, praying about the guilt you’re feeling, and practicing saying no doesn’t really prepare you for their reaction or (lack thereof) to that.

But watching someone you really care for walk away, or even worse, watching them stay silent when you stop doing all the work? You will feel some type of way about that for sure.

This is when the boundaries you created stop being theoretical and become deeply personal. This is where the faith journey gets real.

So today, in this final post of the series, let’s get into the uncomfortable truth of what happens when people push back against your boundaries. And when relationships shift or fade. When you realize that some people prefer the version of you who said yes to everything or let things go (to keep the peace).

And why, even though it hurts, it’s still okay.”

What to Do When People Push Back

Let me be crystal clear: Not everyone is going to celebrate your boundaries.

Some people will push back. They’ll guilt you. They’ll say you’ve changed (and honestly, they’re right—you have). They’ll accuse you of being selfish, difficult, or “not the person I thought you were.” (I’ve heard that one before from a close family member.)

Here’s what pushback can look like:

The Guilt Trip: “I can’t believe you’re doing this to me. After everything I’ve done for you?”

The Silent Treatment: They just… disappear. No explanation. Just silence.

The Victim Card: “I guess I’ll just figure it out myself” (said with a heavy sigh, hoping it will make you feel bad).

The Comparison: “You never used to be like this. What happened to you?” You know, comparing the “old you” to the “new you”.

When this happens, you might panic. You may begin thinking you were wrong. Or you may even think you should go back to the way things were. Besides, creating boundaries isn’t worth losing people over.

But here’s what I’m getting: Pushback often reveals that the relationship was built on you giving more than you should have. In my case, people-pleasing again.

Ephesians 5:21 tells us to “subject to one another out of reverence for Christ.” Mutual submission. Mutual consideration. Both people are thinking about the other.

When someone pushes back against your boundaries, ask yourself: Have they been considering me? Or have they just been comfortable with me doing all the work?

If a relationship can only exist with you erasing yourself, carrying everything, and never saying no, that’s not a relationship. That’s a one-sided arrangement.

What to do when people push back:

1. Don’t defend yourself excessively. You don’t owe anyone a dissertation on why you need boundaries. A simple “This is what works for me now” is enough.
   
2. Stay calm and firm. Don’t engage with guilt trips. Don’t let their emotions manipulate you into backing down. (This is a hard one.)
   
3. Pray for discernment. Ask God: “Is this conviction I’m experiencing or just their discomfort with change?” (Proverbs 3:5-6)
   
4. Remember: Their reaction is not your responsibility. You can’t control how people respond. You can only control what you accept. (Please keep in mind that this is not an opportunity for you to be cruel or mean. You are in control of how you create the boundary.)
   

Some people will adjust. They’ll respect your boundaries, and the relationship will actually get healthier.

Others won’t. And that tells you everything you need to know. This may be when a relationship shifts or fades, and unfortunately, that happens. But it’s not about cutting people off; it’s about having healthy relationships. Relationships should be two-sided and mutual, one towards the other. If you can’t agree on that mutuality, then you don’t really have a relationship.

When Boundaries Reveal Who’s Really in Your Corner

Here’s a truth I wasn’t prepared for: Boundaries are like a filter. They reveal who’s really invested in you (and the relationship) versus who just liked what you did for them.

When you stop being the one who always reaches out, always plans, always gives, always manages, you will find out who actually cares about the relationship.

And sometimes? The silence is deafening.

I have a dear friend who is incredibly generous. She always pays for lunch, and I’m genuinely grateful. Even if I offer to contribute or pay, she refuses. But over the years, I realized something: I’m always the one reaching out. Always the one planning our time together.

She never initiates. She never texts just to check in. She never asks, “Hey, are we still on for lunch?” or “How are you doing?”

I’ve mentioned this to her more than once over the years. Gently. Clearly. “It would mean a lot if you reached out sometimes.”

But nothing has changed.

About two years ago, I was going through a deep depression and anxiety. I just didn’t have the capacity to reach out to people for a few months. After some time, I got a really long text message from this same dear friend, saying she hadn’t heard from me in months and was worried that something might have happened to me. But not once during that time had she reached out to say hello, how are you doing, are you okay, I missed you—nothing. 

So I was supposed to be the only one checking in, huh? I felt some way about that, but I didn’t say anything. I had already told her many times before. I was so disappointed, to say the least.

So recently, I decided to stop. I didn’t reach out for our usual meetup. I wanted to see if the relationship could exist without me carrying it alone.

A whole week went by. Not a word.

And here’s what I realized: When I’m not maintaining it, the relationship doesn’t exist.

Now, let me be clear: I know she’s not trying to hurt me. I’m not taking it personally. I don’t think she wakes up thinking, “How can I be a bad friend today?” That’s not it at all.

But I can’t ignore the pattern either. And here’s the thing: I’m already navigating this dynamic in one very significant relationship. I can’t do it everywhere else.

Luke 6:31 says, “Treat others the same way you want them to treat you.” Would she want to be the only one reaching out? Or, the only one thinking about and working for the relationship? Probably not. So why is it okay for me?

I don’t want to be remiss in saying that extending grace is always essential. Sometimes people are going through things we know nothing about. Sickness. Grief. Overwhelming seasons. And in those times, we extend grace. We reach out even when they can’t. We hold space for them in difficult times.

But there’s a difference between extending grace during a hard season and accepting a long-term pattern where someone consistently doesn’t reciprocate.

If the pattern is that you’re always the one showing up, always the one considering them, always the one doing the work, and nothing changes even after you’ve communicated your needs, that’s information you need to pay attention to.

Boundaries reveal who’s willing to meet you halfway and who only wants you to come all the way to them.

Letting Go of Relationships That Required You to Shrink or Erase Yourself

Sometimes, the healthiest thing you can do for yourself is let go.

But don’t let go of the relationship in anger,  bitterness, or with a dramatic goodbye. It’s not about any of that.

It’s just about letting go and giving it to Jesus. You’re not cutting anyone off.

You’re just stepping back and not chasing anymore. You are releasing the role you’ve been playing.

Maybe it’s the friend who only calls when she needs something or the family member who expects you to always come to them but never thinks to visit you.

It could be the person in your life who takes more than they give and doesn’t seem to notice, or care.

I’m learning more and more that you can love people and still stop doing all the work, all the chasing.

You can care deeply and still refuse to be the only one maintaining the relationship. Both things can be true at the same time.

You can extend grace and still protect your peace.

Galatians 6:2 and 5 tell us to “carry each other’s burdens,” but also that “each one should carry their own load.” There’s a difference between helping with burdens (temporary, heavy things) and carrying someone’s load (their daily responsibilities, their share of the relationship).

If a relationship requires you to erase yourself, carry everything, and never ask for reciprocity—it’s not healthy. And it’s not what God designed.

I have a new standard now: I no longer consistently reach out to anyone who consistently doesn’t reciprocate. I might reach out occasionally, but not consistently-not anymore.

And no, I’m not bitter, angry, or unforgiving. But because (with some) I’ve spent too many years being the only one who thinks about the other person.

If someone wants to be in my life, they’ll show up. They’ll reach out. They’ll think of me the way I feel about them.

And if they don’t? I’ll be at peace with that relationship fading, and I’ll still be happy when I see them or when they reach out.

Letting go isn’t rejection. It’s reciprocity.

It’s saying, “I’m still here. I still love you. But I’m not chasing anymore.”

Matthew 11:28-30 reminds us that Jesus offers rest, not exhaustion. If a relationship is grinding you down because you’re carrying it alone, that’s not God’s design. Now, if it’s a relationship that means a lot to you—especially a marital one—you want to do your due diligence in communicating what mutuality looks like to you.

And like I mentioned in Part 3 of this series, pray continually to God about it.

Real-Life Examples (Your Boundaries in Action)

Let me share what this actually looks like in real life—because boundaries aren’t theoretical. They’re daily decisions.

The Friend Who Doesn’t Initiate: I stopped reaching out. I’m not angry with her at all, and I’m not punishing her. I just decided I’m no longer going to be the only one tending to our friendship. If it matters to her, she’ll reach out. If she doesn’t, then I have my answer.

The Family Member Who Never Comes to Me: I have a family member who will text or call regularly, but if it’s been a while since we’ve seen each other, I make the effort to come over and hang out. Never once has this person offered to come to my place. If I always do it, why would they? Is it their fault if I always offer to do it? I realize now that some of this is my issue with people-pleasing.

So I’m taking a step back. I’m not interested in cutting them off or anything like that. It’s just that at this point in my life, I can’t always be the one making the extra effort. If we’re going to have a relationship, it has to be mutual. And if that means we see each other less? That’s just how it has to be.

The Meal Boundary in My Marriage: I’ve set a boundary around meal preparation. For years, I’ve been the one managing and cooking dinner. Managing means deciding what we’ll have, how I’ll get it done, and when it will be ready. It means my spouse doesn’t have to worry about dinner whenever he gets hungry. I’ve never had that luxury consistently, and even if my spouse prepared a meal, it was only part of it, there is still always something I’ve had to prepare. 

So I recently told him, “You’re on your own for dinner.” I plan to prepare one or two meals a week with him in mind, but other than that, he will need to prepare his own meals.

Now, if you and your spouse have mutually agreed on meal preparation in the home, that’s fantastic! But here’s the key: you’ve mutually agreed. 

Honestly? It feels petty to me. It doesn’t feel good to prepare a meal without considering someone else. But marriage burnout is a real thing (and it’s not just about cooking meals, either.) 

Burnout is one of the things that can cause resentment in marriages. It’s the culmination of years of carrying the mental load in the maintenance of a home (and married life) that’s hardly reciprocated or appreciated. I say it’s hardly appreciated because appreciation is often demonstrated through reciprocation. A person may frequently say they appreciate what has been done for them, but if there is no tangible evidence of it, it doesn’t mean much.

Philippians 2:3-4 says we should look “not to your own interests but each of you to the interests of the others.” Each of you. Not just one spouse.

The truth is, in most traditional marriages, the wife is expected to cook the meals. Often, it’s just assumed —never discussed before marriage. But this was something I never wanted. I didn’t always know I wanted marriage, but I knew if I ever did marry, I wanted a true partnership in everything. Unfortunately, I didn’t have the clarity to know exactly what that looked like or how to explain it before marriage, and that’s really too bad.

Again, these boundaries aren’t about being mean. They’re about requiring reciprocity and about refusing to erase myself. It’s also about honoring the life God gave me to steward.

You’re Not Alone + God Makes Room for the Right People

If you’re reading this and feeling the weight of one-sided relationships, I want you to know: You’re not alone.

So many of us have spent years being the ones who reach out, show up, manage, consider, and carry. We’ve been the givers in relationships that mostly took. (And no, I don’t believe most takers are doing this on purpose – but that doesn’t make it okay.)

And now we’re tired.

Setting boundaries and then watching some meaningful relationships shift or fade will be one of the hardest parts of this journey.

But when you stop settling for crumbs, God makes room for the people who will actually bring a full meal to the table.

When you stop chasing people who don’t value what you bring to the table, you create space for relationships that are mutual, life-giving, and real.

Proverbs 18:24 says, “One who has unreliable friends soon comes to ruin, but there is a friend who sticks closer than a brother.” God knows the kind of friendships you need. And sometimes He has to remove the wrong ones to make room for the right ones.

This doesn’t mean every relationship that fades was bad. Definitely not. Sometimes people are in your life for a season. Sometimes you grow in different directions. Sometimes letting go is just part of the journey.

But it does mean this: You don’t have to keep carrying relationships that require you to erase yourself.

You’re not being selfish. You’re being obedient. God didn’t give you a life to mismanage or a heart to be trampled. He gave you stewardship over yourself, and that requires creating boundaries, even when they’re hard.

So if you’re sitting in the discomfort of a boundary right now or if you’ve stopped reaching out and the silence is loud, I want you to know:

You did the right thing.

You’re not being petty.

You’re not being unforgiving.

You’re just refusing to do all the work in relationships that should be mutual.

And that’s not just okay. That’s healthy.

I’ll be honest—it’s hard for me not to beat myself up when I look back at how I’ve shown up in some of my relationships. Why did I accept so little for so long? Why didn’t I speak up for myself sooner? Why did I make myself so small?

But that was a different version of me. A past version who deserves grace, not criticism. Everyone evolves. And when you finally learn how to treat yourself better, you should do it—without apology and without shame.

Ask yourself:

• What relationships in my life require me to shrink or erase myself?
• Where am I extending grace vs. accepting a pattern that needs to change?
• What would it look like to let go or take a step back, not with anger, but with peace?
• Am I willing to let some relationships fade if people don’t choose mutuality?
• What is God showing me about the kind of relationships He wants for me?

Take these questions to God. Write honestly. And trust that He’s making room for what’s meant for you. Or if He’s showing you how you could show up better in your relationships.

Let’s encourage each other. Because life is a faith journey—and we’re walking it together.

Be brave enough to pursue your dreams, even when it means letting go of what no longer serves you.

Be faithful enough to trust the process, even when relationships shift.

Be kind enough to help another woman along the way by sharing your own journey.

Your peace matters. Your mental health matters. Your relationships should reflect mutual love and respect.

Walk boldly.