Boundaries Are Bridges, Not Walls
Navigating times of division demands that we find ways to stay connected

By Stacy Phillips
A few years ago, I found myself in the middle of two very different storms. One was political—a country growing more divided, conversations turning combative, friendships being tested. The other was deeply personal—my ex-husband’s struggle with addiction, and my role as a mother trying to raise strong, emotionally intelligent boys in the middle of the wreckage. Both situations taught me the same essential truth: Healthy boundaries are not about shutting people out—they’re about staying grounded so you can keep showing up with compassion.
This truth didn’t come easily to me. In fact, I come from a long, proud line of people who have no idea what boundaries are. Growing up the youngest of 10 siblings, boundaries weren’t something we talked about—they were something you accidentally ran into, usually by stepping on someone else’s last nerve. Personal space? Emotional limits? Saying no? Unheard of. Our family motto might as well have been: “We love hard, we talk loud, and we’re all up in each other’s business.”
But as I got older, I started to recognize what I had missed: the sense of safety that boundaries provide—not just physical space, but emotional protection. Learning that later in life wasn’t easy. There were years I confused boundaries with rejection. I thought saying “no” meant I was being cold or selfish. But as a mom, I realized I didn’t want my kids growing up believing they had to sacrifice their peace to maintain relationships. I wanted them to know that love can have limits—and still be love.
My best friend and I have known each other for 27 years. We don’t vote the same. We don’t watch the same news. But we laugh until we cry, show up when it matters and choose to focus on what we’ve always valued about each other—kindness, loyalty, humor. Her beliefs haven’t really changed over time, but mine have evolved. There were moments when I worried that shift would create distance. What saved our friendship wasn’t compromise—it was clarity. We learned to say: “I love you, even if I don’t agree with you.” That simple sentence is a boundary in action—respect without surrender.
Boundaries in Action
So what are healthy boundaries, really?
According to research published in the British Journal of Nursing, healthy boundaries are the psychological space between individuals that “allows a sense of individuality and separateness,” which is essential for maintaining personal identity and emotional well-being. They protect our emotional space, clarify our responsibilities and reduce conflict by creating expectations. Boundaries help us distinguish what’s ours to carry—and what isn’t.
When my ex-husband was deep in his addiction, I had to draw painful but necessary boundaries for the sake of my children and myself. I remember telling my boys, “Love doesn’t mean you say yes to everything. Sometimes the most loving thing you can do is step back.” That was a turning point—not just for them, but for me. We had to learn how to separate the disease from the person, to love without enabling, to show compassion without becoming casualties.
And that’s what healthy boundaries do: They keep you safe enough to stay loving.
Too often, we think boundaries are confrontational. But they’re really just communication. They sound like:
“I’m not comfortable discussing this topic today.”
“I need time to cool off before continuing this conversation.”
“I respect your view, but I see it differently.”
“This behavior isn’t okay with me, and I need some space.”
These aren’t ultimatums—they’re expressions of self-respect.
One of the best professors I ever had once said, “There’s no way to truly understand your own viewpoint unless you can understand the opposing one.” That stayed with me. Listening—really listening—is not about changing someone’s mind. It’s about showing that their humanity matters, even if their opinion challenges your own. That’s empathy. And empathy is a boundary’s best friend.
Empathy allows you to say, “I want to understand where you’re coming from,” without losing your own footing. It allows you to stay curious, not combative. And it keeps relationships intact when everything else feels like it’s falling apart.
But boundaries also mean protecting your energy. When conflict is constant—whether in the news, your social feed or your family group chat—you have every right to disengage. You don’t need to attend every argument you’re invited to. You don’t need to explain your values to people determined not to hear them. You don’t owe access to your peace.
What you do owe yourself, though, is joy. Part of setting boundaries is actively choosing joy. You have to make space for what fills you up. For me, that’s making fried rice on the Blackstone with my boys. It’s time with my girlfriends at wineries. It’s reading. It’s exploring new places. It’s choosing laughter over outrage. We can’t fight for the world we want if we’re running on empty.
And yes, it’s okay to walk away—from conversations, from dynamics, even from people—if your mental health depends on it. But sometimes, what saves a relationship isn’t distance. It’s redirection. Can we talk about something we both care about? Can we come back to the foundation we built this relationship on—trust, respect, shared history?
Making Positive Steps
You don’t need to persuade people to agree with you. There doesn’t always have to be an action step. Sometimes, the most radical thing you can do is just keep showing up in love—with your boundary intact.
If you’re struggling to navigate difficult relationships right now—political or personal—try this:
Name your boundary. Be clear with yourself and others about what you need to feel safe and heard. Before you can express what you need, you have to know what it is. Clarity starts from within. What makes you feel uncomfortable, resentful, unsafe or unheard? Those feelings are clues.
You may realize, for example, that political arguments with a family member leave you feeling anxious and disrespected. Your boundary might be: “I don’t want to engage in political discussions at family gatherings.” Naming it helps you stay centered—and helps others understand your limits.
Communicate with kindness. You can say hard things with soft edges. You don’t have to be sharp or cold. The tone doesn’t have to match the tension. Kindness is not weakness—it’s strategic and mature.
So when you’re in a heated discussion, instead of saying, “You’re being rude and I am done talking to you,” try: “I care about our relationship, which is why I need to step away from this conversation for now. Let’s talk when we are both calmer.” A kind tone creates more space for understanding—even when the message is firm.
Listen to understand, not to win. The goal isn’t persuasion—it’s connection. If your goal is to be right, you’ll probably miss the chance to be real. Listening to understand means being curious, even when it’s hard. This doesn’t mean you have to agree; it means you are creating space for someone’s experience—even if you’ll never share it.
When a friend shares a viewpoint you disagree with, instead of debating, say: “Help me understand how you came to feel that way.” This doesn’t mean you agree—it means you respect their experience, which builds trust even in disagreement.
Focus on common ground. Our values often overlap more than our opinions. Start from there. What unites you is almost always deeper than what divides you.
Say a co-worker is frustrated by your approach to a project. You could respond: “We both care about doing excellent work—I think we just have different styles. Let’s focus on the shared goal.” Or when your aunt insists on bringing up her strong political views at dinner, you could say: “I think we both want a safer, kinder world for future generations. That’s something we can agree on.” Finding common ground doesn’t ignore hard truths—it means staying rooted in what matters most.
Prioritize self-care. Refill your cup with what brings you joy. Boundaries are easier to maintain when your tank isn’t empty. If your emotional reserves are running on fumes, you’ll feel guilty, reactive or too exhaustive to follow through.
So it’s okay if you decline an invitation to an event where you know you’ll feel overstimulated or drained. Instead, you choose rest and communicate that: “Thank you for thinking of me, but I’m going to sit this one out and recharge. Let’s catch up another time.” Refilling your emotional cup is not indulgence—it’s essential. You can’t offer peace to others if you’re at war with yourself.
Know when to disengage. Silence can be sacred when noise is toxic. Not every conversation is worth having. Not every person is ready to receive your truth. And not every boundary can be negotiated. Silence isn’t defeat; it’s discernment.
For instance, when a social media comment spirals into personal attacks, you could quietly block, mute or log off rather than continuing the debate. Peace is more important than proving a point.
We live in a world that profits from outrage. Boundaries are your resistance. They are how you stay soft in a hard world, how you keep showing up with empathy when it’s easier to shut down and how you preserve what matters most—your relationships, your peace and your ability to love without losing yourself.
So, the next time you feel the tension rise—online, at the dinner table or in your own heart—remember this: You can hold your line and still hold someone’s hand. That’s what healthy boundaries do. They don’t push people away. They give you the strength to stay connected, without losing who you are.