Not a wall, but a door

Exploring the space between protecting my boundaries and letting others help

A few weeks ago I went on a retreat at a Buddhist center. We had a really lovely group of people there. It was the second time I had done something like this, but that part is not really important for this story.

What is important is that there was someone there who really triggered me.

And that does not happen very often.

I am not someone who is known for judging other people quickly. I have enough strict voices toward myself, but toward others I generally feel more curiosity than judgment.

But here something different happened.

On the first evening we had an introductory session. There was a grounding exercise, a short meditation, an overview of the coming days, and then a round where everyone shared a bit about themselves, their experience with meditation, and what they hoped to get out of the retreat.

By then it was already after nine in the evening.

The facilitator asked:

"Are there any questions or remarks?"

One man raised his hand and said something like:

"I find this quite a lot. So late in the evening, so many impressions, so much emotional intensity. Some people shared very openly. I feel a bit overwhelmed. If it's going to be this much over the next three days, I worry that it may become too much for me."

And I immediately felt something happen in my body.

My internal reaction was roughly:

"Come on. If it is too much, then it is your responsibility to set your own boundaries, right? You do not have to participate in everything. Just because it is too much for you does not mean it is too much for everyone else."

I surprised myself with that reaction.

Not only because it was harsh, but because it came so quickly.

And what was even more interesting was that the reaction stayed with me over the next few days.

At the same time, something else happened. I noticed many beautiful things about this person. By Sunday I mostly felt warmth, kindness, and gratitude that he had been part of our group.

But that first reaction kept lingering in my mind.

Why had this triggered me so strongly?

I increasingly believe that people crossing our path often mirror something back to us. Sometimes they expose something we have not fully seen in ourselves yet.

So I started asking myself:

What was this person trying to tell me?

My allergy

Eventually something started to click.

I noticed that I often get triggered when people communicate their boundaries in a way that feels, to me, as if they are simultaneously expecting other people or a group to carry those boundaries for them.

I notice this at work too.

Sometimes I hear people become frustrated because someone asks them to take on a task when their agenda is already full.

And my immediate reaction is usually:

The person asking the question did nothing wrong.

Asking is free.

You are responsible for your own boundaries.

You decide which tasks you accept and which you decline.

If saying no feels difficult, why does that become the question asker's problem?

I feel irritation very quickly around that.

And I started realizing that this irritation probably says less about them and more about me.

Core quadrants and an unexpected insight

During a walk, I told this story to a friend.

She brought up Ofman's core quadrants:

• What is your core quality?

• What happens when that quality becomes too much?

• What triggers you?

• What is your challenge?

My first interpretation looked something like this:

• Core quality: autonomy

• Allergy: people expecting others to facilitate their boundaries

• Challenge: asking for help

But after reflecting on it more, I realized that this was probably not quite right.

Because autonomy itself is not the problem.

Autonomy is beautiful.

Taking responsibility is beautiful.

My trap may only appear when autonomy turns into something else:

"I have to carry everything alone."

"I am the only one responsible for protecting my boundaries."

"I should not rely on others."

At that point, autonomy becomes hyper-independence.

And suddenly the whole picture started to make more sense.

Maybe my core quadrant looks more like this:

• Core quality: Autonomy, ownership, taking responsibility

• Pitfall: Carrying everything yourself, not relying on others, hyper-independence

• Allergy: People who appear dependent or who place expectations on others

• Challenge: Trust, allowing interdependence, inviting support

That last part is still difficult for me to write.

Because somewhere inside me there is still a voice saying:

"People should simply manage their own boundaries."

And at the same time, I can feel that there may be a belief hidden underneath that does not always help me.

Because maybe there is a difference between:

"The group should carry my boundaries."

and:

"I can give people enough information so they can help."

Maybe there is a middle ground between:

"Everyone should adapt to me."

and:

"I have to carry everything alone."

Maybe that middle ground is called collaboration.

A recent example at work

This week I received another invitation to join a working group.

I get asked fairly often because of my expertise.

Working groups around digitalization, projects, reflection groups, and so on.

But by now I know something about myself.

I do not function well in those environments.

Not because those groups are poorly organized.

Not because the work is not important.

But because I know what happens in my body.

I become impatient.

I get bored.

I feel tension building up.

And out of frustration I sometimes make comments that are not constructive at all.

So for the first time I answered very explicitly:

"Thank you for the invitation and for valuing my expertise. My personality does not function well in these kinds of working groups. I lose too much energy in them, so I have decided not to participate anymore in order to preserve my energy for other activities."

And I felt proud after sending that email.

Because I did not use an excuse.

Not: I am too busy.

Not: I do not have time.

Just honesty.

But then my friend said something interesting:

"Here too, you are taking all responsibility onto yourself again."

And again I thought:

Damn.

Maybe she is right.

Because maybe there is another step I can take.

Maybe I can move from simply setting a boundary toward also creating an invitation.

Because if I am honest, I actually already know quite well what does not work for me.

But I also know surprisingly well what does work.

I struggle in long working groups where ideas emerge slowly and where I have to remain part of a lengthy process.

But my energy and expertise often come alive in different forms of collaboration.

For example:

• Short, semi-structured one-on-one conversations where I am asked specific questions and can provide focused input.

• Short brainstorming sessions where a group has already done the groundwork and I am invited to think strategically: What patterns are emerging? What are the next steps? Where are the opportunities or risks?

• Repeating those moments at specific points during a project if that perspective becomes useful again.

Suddenly that feels different.

Because then I am no longer saying:

"Do not invite me."

Instead I am saying:

"If you want to collaborate with me, this is where I can contribute most."

That feels less like a wall and more like a door.

Maybe that is also a form of boundary setting that I am still learning.

Not only showing where my boundary lies.

But also showing where my energy begins.

And maybe that was exactly what that man at the retreat came to teach me.

Not that I need fewer boundaries.

But that maybe I do not always have to protect them alone.