Araucaria #2: On boundaries and being yourself in relationships
Published on: June 24, 2025
Summary
In the previous episode, we talked about belonging – about how important it is to have your place in the world and in relationships. Today I'm looking at what makes that place truly ours.
This episode is about boundaries – physical, emotional, relational. About how the body tells us "yes" and "no" before we manage to name it. About how closeness can be safe when we are rooted in ourselves. This is a story about how boundaries are not about shutting ourselves off, but a path to meeting. With another person. And with ourselves.
Listen
Transcript
You are listening to Araucaria. What story do you need to hear to heal?
The human being is part of the whole, yet experiences oneself, one's thoughts, and feelings as separate from the rest. It is a kind of optical illusion of consciousness. These are the words of Albert Einstein, quoted by Mark Wolynn, the author of the book "It Didn't Start with You." Referring precisely to this illusion of separation from others and our belief that we are alone, cut off from those around us, or from past generations. It is on this feeling that we often build our identity, on such a foundation. At the same time, Wolynn points out that until we become aware of certain connections between us and others and our past histories, we may become prisoners of feelings and patterns that do not actually belong to us but are often carried over from the past. By revealing this story in a sense, we open ourselves to the possibility of freedom from repetitive patterns and unconscious inheritance.
In the previous episode, we talked about belonging, about how each of us needs to feel like we truly fit somewhere, that we truly belong. And today, I would like to talk, to weave a story about boundaries and how we become ourselves, but in relationships. Because boundaries seem to be the other side, so to speak, of this experience. If belonging says I am a part, boundaries say I am myself. Both are necessary to build good relationships.
I will start with a short story. A traveler arrived at the gates of a city and asked an old man sitting at the entrance what kind of city it was. The old man looked at him and replied, "What were the places you came from like?" The traveler sighed. Full of selfishness and unfriendliness, people were cold and closed off. The old man nodded. Here you will find the same. Shortly after, another traveler arrived and asked the exact same question. "What was your previous place like?" the old man asked. "Wonderful. People were kind, open, full of warmth. Here you will find the same," the old man replied.
I mention this story because it illustrates a reflection that is very close to me. Sometimes it's not the world that changes, but our attitude. How we see relationships and boundaries depends not only on what is happening around us but primarily on what is happening inside us. In a sense, it would be difficult to talk about boundaries without also considering a somatic perspective. I am a psychologist and somatic therapist, so for over a dozen years, I have been trying to combine psychological knowledge with approaches that take into account bodily reactions. I have a sense that when it comes to boundaries, crucial information about where we are, where we end, and the world outside begins flows from the body. Deb Dana, a psychotherapist, lecturer, also working with individuals who have experienced trauma, including developmental trauma, uses the concept of "autonomic boundaries," referring here to polyvagal theory, neuroception, and emphasizing the immense importance when it comes to changing the body and the nervous system. Steven Porges, the creator of the polyvagal theory, both in his books, during lectures, and training, emphasizes that our nervous system reacts faster than our conscious mind, and whether we are open, withdrawn, or tense largely depends on our sense of safety felt in the body. Deb Dana even describes boundaries as what allows us to be present without losing ourselves. And you could say we recognize this in three states. When we are safe, we feel openness, curiosity, readiness for contact. When something arouses us, we experience tension, we are more defensive, sometimes even aggressive. When we feel threatened, we withdraw, close ourselves off, sometimes disconnect.
It is also hard not to mention Daniel Siegel here and his concepts that relationships shape the structure of the brain and our nervous system, and that our relationships depend on how safe we feel in our bodies. Therefore, I would like to propose a simple somatic exercise. Pause for a moment and simply notice your body, its weight, shape, contact with the ground.
You can check how your feet experience the floor, your back, the support. Imagine the space around you. As if a delicate layer of air surrounds you from all sides. With each breath, feel where your body ends and the world begins. How much space do you need to feel safe? This is your place. This is your space. Your "yes" and your "no." Give yourself a moment. Remember how much space you need and where that boundary is. As I mentioned Daniel Siegel, I can move quite smoothly into the neurobiology of relationships and boundaries in psychology, in attachment theory. It is not a discovery, of course, that healthy boundaries do not arise on their own, they develop in relationships. A child whose caregiver understands their signals, does not impose, does not disappear, learns that they can be themselves in the presence of another person. Daniel Siegel, the creator of interpersonal neurobiology, emphasizes that the brain is such a relational organ that it develops through contact. He calls it the phenomenon of internal insight, the ability to perceive oneself and others in the context of relationships. Here, it is crucial to pay attention to presence, mindfulness, emotional resonance. In this way, networks responsible for our sense of self are formed. These are the micro-moments of contact. These are the gentle looks, pauses, tone of voice. You could say that all of this makes us feel safe. The repeatability of these micro-regulations shapes our boundaries.
Because we are constantly checking if I can show myself and not be hurt. If my "no" can be accepted with respect. If my "yes" won't be exploited. When our boundaries were crossed too early, too often, what we often learned was to freeze, erase ourselves, or on the contrary, build walls that no one would cross. These relational injuries arise in relationships, but they can also be healed in relationships. These can be therapeutic relationships, friendships, partnerships. When we are listened to with mindfulness, non-intrusiveness, our boundaries can be rebuilt towards creating a different story about ourselves. And a boundary, as Deb Dana, a psychotherapist, lecturer, puts it, is our relational ability to be ourselves in the presence of another person.
And now I would like to offer you another exercise. Think about a relationship in which you feel seen and safe. Give yourself as much time as you need. Imagine that this person is sitting across from you or if you prefer, next to you. And now, this important moment. Notice how your body feels when you imagine this. Can you breathe more fully? Is there something in you tensing up? You don't have to judge or interpret it, just notice. And now ask yourself, what do I need to remain myself in this closeness? If an answer doesn't come to you, you can return to this question later, spend more time with it. You can write it down for a later meditation. It is important to respect your relationships, whatever they may be. Because this is the condition for creating this new story.
Indeed, in narrative psychology, who we are is not understood as a fact, but as a story. And boundaries are also stories about that. Stories about what is allowed to others in relation to us, what we expect from ourselves. What personally gives me hope is that these stories can be reconstructed. And deconstructed as well. And new stories can be created. But it is true that there comes a difficult moment because at a certain stage, we begin to realize that the path that led us to where we are is somewhat blurry, blurred. And the strategies that somehow worked, allowed us to survive, no longer serve us. However, we do not yet see the path ahead of us. We lack that clarity. What now? This is such an important moment, as Deb Dana says, it is a moment of suspension. It is a moment where we need to activate new response patterns. It is a moment of uncertainty. A moment where we need to restore a sense of safety because we are in a situation where we simply do not know. We do not know what comes next. How to rearrange things now since the previous methods no longer work? And now, to start writing this new story, Deb Dana points out that we need to give an impulse to our nervous system to activate those social engagement responses, the ventral vagal nerve, that is, the entire system that allows us to feel safe. Sometimes these are such small moments, as she describes various psychotherapy processes, moments when we savor good times, when we taste something pleasant, good from the past and embody it. That is, we gain a slightly different internal state and from this place of a different, more regulated internal state, a different perspective, a different view, perhaps a different interpretation is possible. We do not change the story in a way, but we create a new one. From this place of no longer threat but safety.
Therefore, in this context, you can reflect on what boundaries you had or have had in the past, and what boundaries you have today. And what story about yourself do you want to develop from today? For me, the topic of boundaries is also about seeking such balance. It is not about a wall that separates us from the world, but it is also not about an ocean in which we lose ourselves and lose our contour. I perceive and feel a healthy boundary as something that in a sense separates but does not cut off, that protects but does not confine. That is, I feel resonance with myself, recognize what is within me, but I also have this openness to resonate with what is beyond me, with what is around me. I learn to be with both. Sometimes I need to distinguish between them because sometimes there may be too much resonance, sometimes too little. It is also a kind of journey, a search for where my safe place is. How much do I need to be more with myself so that I can be with others? How much do I need to take care of myself so that a relationship with the environment is possible? In everyday life, this can mean, for example, being able to say no without guilt, or accepting closeness without fear, or exiting relationships that do not serve me. And of course, our boundaries may be violated, but it is not an absolute, final end. We can restore them, repair them, return to ourselves, recreate our own contour. Because to be authentically with others, we also need to be with ourselves.
To conclude, I would like to invite you to such contact with yourself. Therefore, I have a few questions for you that I hope will leave you with space for reflection, contemplating this. How does your body tell you that something is too close or too far? What kind of relationship with yourself and with others do you need today? And what new boundaries can support your story? I understand boundaries as the place where I end, you begin, but this is precisely the place where we can truly meet.
Thank you for being here, for listening, and for accompanying yourself with attention. Until next time.
The human being is part of the whole, yet experiences oneself, one's thoughts, and feelings as separate from the rest. It is a kind of optical illusion of consciousness. These are the words of Albert Einstein, quoted by Mark Wolynn, the author of the book "It Didn't Start with You." Referring precisely to this illusion of separation from others and our belief that we are alone, cut off from those around us, or from past generations. It is on this feeling that we often build our identity, on such a foundation. At the same time, Wolynn points out that until we become aware of certain connections between us and others and our past histories, we may become prisoners of feelings and patterns that do not actually belong to us but are often carried over from the past. By revealing this story in a sense, we open ourselves to the possibility of freedom from repetitive patterns and unconscious inheritance.
In the previous episode, we talked about belonging, about how each of us needs to feel like we truly fit somewhere, that we truly belong. And today, I would like to talk, to weave a story about boundaries and how we become ourselves, but in relationships. Because boundaries seem to be the other side, so to speak, of this experience. If belonging says I am a part, boundaries say I am myself. Both are necessary to build good relationships.
I will start with a short story. A traveler arrived at the gates of a city and asked an old man sitting at the entrance what kind of city it was. The old man looked at him and replied, "What were the places you came from like?" The traveler sighed. Full of selfishness and unfriendliness, people were cold and closed off. The old man nodded. Here you will find the same. Shortly after, another traveler arrived and asked the exact same question. "What was your previous place like?" the old man asked. "Wonderful. People were kind, open, full of warmth. Here you will find the same," the old man replied.
I mention this story because it illustrates a reflection that is very close to me. Sometimes it's not the world that changes, but our attitude. How we see relationships and boundaries depends not only on what is happening around us but primarily on what is happening inside us. In a sense, it would be difficult to talk about boundaries without also considering a somatic perspective. I am a psychologist and somatic therapist, so for over a dozen years, I have been trying to combine psychological knowledge with approaches that take into account bodily reactions. I have a sense that when it comes to boundaries, crucial information about where we are, where we end, and the world outside begins flows from the body. Deb Dana, a psychotherapist, lecturer, also working with individuals who have experienced trauma, including developmental trauma, uses the concept of "autonomic boundaries," referring here to polyvagal theory, neuroception, and emphasizing the immense importance when it comes to changing the body and the nervous system. Steven Porges, the creator of the polyvagal theory, both in his books, during lectures, and training, emphasizes that our nervous system reacts faster than our conscious mind, and whether we are open, withdrawn, or tense largely depends on our sense of safety felt in the body. Deb Dana even describes boundaries as what allows us to be present without losing ourselves. And you could say we recognize this in three states. When we are safe, we feel openness, curiosity, readiness for contact. When something arouses us, we experience tension, we are more defensive, sometimes even aggressive. When we feel threatened, we withdraw, close ourselves off, sometimes disconnect.
It is also hard not to mention Daniel Siegel here and his concepts that relationships shape the structure of the brain and our nervous system, and that our relationships depend on how safe we feel in our bodies. Therefore, I would like to propose a simple somatic exercise. Pause for a moment and simply notice your body, its weight, shape, contact with the ground.
You can check how your feet experience the floor, your back, the support. Imagine the space around you. As if a delicate layer of air surrounds you from all sides. With each breath, feel where your body ends and the world begins. How much space do you need to feel safe? This is your place. This is your space. Your "yes" and your "no." Give yourself a moment. Remember how much space you need and where that boundary is. As I mentioned Daniel Siegel, I can move quite smoothly into the neurobiology of relationships and boundaries in psychology, in attachment theory. It is not a discovery, of course, that healthy boundaries do not arise on their own, they develop in relationships. A child whose caregiver understands their signals, does not impose, does not disappear, learns that they can be themselves in the presence of another person. Daniel Siegel, the creator of interpersonal neurobiology, emphasizes that the brain is such a relational organ that it develops through contact. He calls it the phenomenon of internal insight, the ability to perceive oneself and others in the context of relationships. Here, it is crucial to pay attention to presence, mindfulness, emotional resonance. In this way, networks responsible for our sense of self are formed. These are the micro-moments of contact. These are the gentle looks, pauses, tone of voice. You could say that all of this makes us feel safe. The repeatability of these micro-regulations shapes our boundaries.
Because we are constantly checking if I can show myself and not be hurt. If my "no" can be accepted with respect. If my "yes" won't be exploited. When our boundaries were crossed too early, too often, what we often learned was to freeze, erase ourselves, or on the contrary, build walls that no one would cross. These relational injuries arise in relationships, but they can also be healed in relationships. These can be therapeutic relationships, friendships, partnerships. When we are listened to with mindfulness, non-intrusiveness, our boundaries can be rebuilt towards creating a different story about ourselves. And a boundary, as Deb Dana, a psychotherapist, lecturer, puts it, is our relational ability to be ourselves in the presence of another person.
And now I would like to offer you another exercise. Think about a relationship in which you feel seen and safe. Give yourself as much time as you need. Imagine that this person is sitting across from you or if you prefer, next to you. And now, this important moment. Notice how your body feels when you imagine this. Can you breathe more fully? Is there something in you tensing up? You don't have to judge or interpret it, just notice. And now ask yourself, what do I need to remain myself in this closeness? If an answer doesn't come to you, you can return to this question later, spend more time with it. You can write it down for a later meditation. It is important to respect your relationships, whatever they may be. Because this is the condition for creating this new story.
Indeed, in narrative psychology, who we are is not understood as a fact, but as a story. And boundaries are also stories about that. Stories about what is allowed to others in relation to us, what we expect from ourselves. What personally gives me hope is that these stories can be reconstructed. And deconstructed as well. And new stories can be created. But it is true that there comes a difficult moment because at a certain stage, we begin to realize that the path that led us to where we are is somewhat blurry, blurred. And the strategies that somehow worked, allowed us to survive, no longer serve us. However, we do not yet see the path ahead of us. We lack that clarity. What now? This is such an important moment, as Deb Dana says, it is a moment of suspension. It is a moment where we need to activate new response patterns. It is a moment of uncertainty. A moment where we need to restore a sense of safety because we are in a situation where we simply do not know. We do not know what comes next. How to rearrange things now since the previous methods no longer work? And now, to start writing this new story, Deb Dana points out that we need to give an impulse to our nervous system to activate those social engagement responses, the ventral vagal nerve, that is, the entire system that allows us to feel safe. Sometimes these are such small moments, as she describes various psychotherapy processes, moments when we savor good times, when we taste something pleasant, good from the past and embody it. That is, we gain a slightly different internal state and from this place of a different, more regulated internal state, a different perspective, a different view, perhaps a different interpretation is possible. We do not change the story in a way, but we create a new one. From this place of no longer threat but safety.
Therefore, in this context, you can reflect on what boundaries you had or have had in the past, and what boundaries you have today. And what story about yourself do you want to develop from today? For me, the topic of boundaries is also about seeking such balance. It is not about a wall that separates us from the world, but it is also not about an ocean in which we lose ourselves and lose our contour. I perceive and feel a healthy boundary as something that in a sense separates but does not cut off, that protects but does not confine. That is, I feel resonance with myself, recognize what is within me, but I also have this openness to resonate with what is beyond me, with what is around me. I learn to be with both. Sometimes I need to distinguish between them because sometimes there may be too much resonance, sometimes too little. It is also a kind of journey, a search for where my safe place is. How much do I need to be more with myself so that I can be with others? How much do I need to take care of myself so that a relationship with the environment is possible? In everyday life, this can mean, for example, being able to say no without guilt, or accepting closeness without fear, or exiting relationships that do not serve me. And of course, our boundaries may be violated, but it is not an absolute, final end. We can restore them, repair them, return to ourselves, recreate our own contour. Because to be authentically with others, we also need to be with ourselves.
To conclude, I would like to invite you to such contact with yourself. Therefore, I have a few questions for you that I hope will leave you with space for reflection, contemplating this. How does your body tell you that something is too close or too far? What kind of relationship with yourself and with others do you need today? And what new boundaries can support your story? I understand boundaries as the place where I end, you begin, but this is precisely the place where we can truly meet.
Thank you for being here, for listening, and for accompanying yourself with attention. Until next time.