Are You Mad at Me?: How to Stop Focusing on What Others Think and Start Living for You

by Meg Josephson

You’re deciding what you will do, not what the other person will do.

Setting a boundary is really just letting the other person know “This is who I am, this is what I’m about, and this is what I’m able to do.”

The way you can set boundaries at work is probably going to be different from the way you can set boundaries with your friends.

IDENTIFY WHAT YOU’RE FEELING AND NEEDING (internal) Pause and look inward. Ask yourself: What emotion is coming up for me right now? If it were up to me, what would I want to do? And now, what’s possible given the context of this relationship?

COMMUNICATE AND EXPRESS THAT NEED (external) Express yourself in a way that feels authentic to you. Practice being clear and concise, and resist the urge to use fluffy or fawny language (e.g., “Is that okay with you? No worries if not!” “Sorry for existing!” “I am such a burden!”).

MAINTAIN THE BOUNDARY (both internal and external) When the same situation pops up again, assuming you still feel the same way, mainta...

Beginning to identify and honor your needs is going to feel uncomfortable.

Being able to tolerate the discomfort of disappointing someone is part of what makes it a successful boundary.

They can certainly communicate to you how they’re feeling, and that sharing can open up a discussion, but their discomfort is not something for you to fix.

Your ability to communicate clearly, honestly, and directly remains consistent even as your feelings fluctuate and your decisions change depending on your internal state. When

You grapple with the guilt of maybe saying no, you brainstorm potential excuses (read: white lies) that could give you an easy out, or maybe you just go anyway, begrudgingly.

(Speaking of white lies, being dishonest as an attempt to set a boundary in a healthy relationship is exhausting, because you need to keep track of your white lies.)

It’s okay to have healthy boundaries. When we feel depleted and allow ourselves to say no to something, we open up the opportunity for something else. In

But I remembered what you said: Would my future husband do this? And no, he wouldn’t. My future husband wouldn’t guilt-trip me into intimacy.

They’re about regaining sovereignty over your own life: your time, your money, your energy, your body. In order to do that, you have to know what your needs, values, and priorities are and stay true to them.

She’d find herself texting people she didn’t really care about hanging out with because she was scared they’d lose interest in her if she didn’t and then she’d feel abandoned.

In areas where you normally overextend yourself, volunteer yourself, try to prove yourself when you don’t need to—lean back.

Slow down and ask yourself: Why am I about to do this thing? Leaning back doesn’t mean you’re neglecting responsibilities; it just means you’re not exerting energy when you don’t need to. You’re leaning back, not leaving the room.

Boundary guilt is a little different. As a fawner, you have a tendency to see other people’s distress or discomfort and instantaneously take it on yourself.

In other words, you can take the opportunity to practice identifying your needs and advocating for them in situations in which giving feedback is not only normal but expected.

If you have been stuck in the fawn response from an early age, it’s normal to feel behind in life or to feel like you’re meeting yourself only now, as an adult, because others your age were able to develop and explore while you were surviving and pleasing others.

The practice of reconnecting with ourselves after years of fawning involves slowly building up our ability to trust ourselves. It’s exploring questions like these: Who am I when I’m not being perceived? What is my personality when I’m not trying to impress or please anyone else? What would I want for my life if I couldn’t tell anyone about it, if it wasn’t being judged by others?

The mind does this: it convinces us that once X event happens, then life can begin, then we’ll be happy with ourselves, then we can be present and find pockets of joy.

In the absence of a deep, consistent emotional connection with their caregivers, children will often create a romantic, hopeful story in which their unhappiness, loneliness, and pain are cured.

It usually involves changing themselves to become enough for their parents. If I were more attractive, smarter, more athletic, then my parents would care more about me and I would feel close to them.

another reality. As we grow into adults, we often unconsciously hold on to these fantasies and expect them to come true.

We may unconsciously believe that if we were to become rich or famous or powerful or more attractive or otherwise different, then people would give us the care that we’ve always longed for.

Remember that behind perfectionism is a part of you that is terrified of being seen, perceived, criticized, and rejected, as well as terrified of letting someone down or being seen as anything but perfect.

Nothing reveals unprocessed trauma like a new relationship.

journaling felt like my introduction to cultivating awareness of this part of myself.

But accessing our intuition doesn’t require us to try harder; it invites us to slow down, lean back, and listen.

Anxiety feels jittery, tense; there’s a sense of urgency to it. Intuition feels calm, clear, concise.

When you get clarity on what you want, don’t be surprised when habits, people, and situations that aren’t meant for you depart from your life.

There’s freedom in giving yourself pockets of time not to consume excess information, not to go on social media, not to listen to a podcast or check your email, but to allow your energetic channel to be clear of noise so that you can hear the whisper of your own inner voice.

Hyperindependence is being emotionally lonely but pushing connection away.

But having deep, meaningful relationships in which I’m allowed to show up with the messy parts of myself feels better.

So much of healing for me has meant returning to that younger version of myself who’s been here all along but just needed to know it was safe to come out again.

Returning to ourselves isn’t an effortful act; it’s a practice of surrendering and listening to the curious, wonder-filled voice that exists within all of us, with no pressure or expectations.

Practice not asking everyone for their opinion when making decisions. Practice asking, What do I think of this? before asking someone else what they think. Practice taking a moment to access the stillness within you before immediately seeking reassurance from someone else.

Pause and ask yourself: Do you like it? How do you feel in it? Would you reach for the shirt and feel excited to wear it? You might still end up asking your friends for their thoughts—that’s okay.

What matters is that you break the pattern of immediately seeking external validation and ask yourself what you think first.

All day long, your intuition is communicating with you.

Each time you remember to pause and ask yourself, What do I think of this? you’re showing the scared part of you that it’s safe to trust yourself.

When we’re living in survival mode, we’re hyperfocused on ourselves. Pain is all-consuming.

When we’re in pain, physical or emotional, that pain naturally centers itself in our lives. As we heal and cultivate more awareness, that pain settles, and even if it’s still there in the background, pulsating like a dull ache, our awareness is strong enough to notice something else, too, at the same time we’re noticing the pain.

The more you step into the energy of the person you want to be, the more people feel it and pick up on it, and it shows them, This is an option. You can do this, too.