Good Boundaries and Goodbyes: Loving Others Without Losing the Best of Who You Are

by Lysa TerKeurst

You are whole and healthy when who you are as a child of God is in alignment with what you know (orthodoxy), what you feel (orthopathy), and what you do (orthopraxy).

2. Boundaries protect us from fractured people fracturing us.

Basically, I can’t let other people’s fractured thinking affect me to the point where I get my thinking out of alignment with God’s truth. I can’t let other people’s fractured feelings affect me to the point where my feelings get out of alignment with God’s truth. And I can’t let other people’s actions affect me to the point where my actions get out of alignment with God’s truth.

Because when any part of me gets out of alignment with God’s truth, I betray the best of who I am.

It’s not just that we are kind because we have a natural bent toward wanting to be kind. Or that we are patient because we have a natural bent toward being patient. We show these outward qualities because of an inward understanding of who we are.

The best of who we are is made possible by the best of what God has done for us. He has chosen us. He has set us apart for His holy purpose. And He loves us with an intentional and dedicated love that won’t quit on us. The boundaries we put in place are safeguards that keep our allegiance to Him intact.

All people have limits—physically, financially, relationally, emotionally. No one is limitless.

I want to be is driven by a desire. I must be is driven by a demand. And when our desires shift into becoming demands, we run the risk of getting caught in the most serious form of people pleasing.

We can so easily lose our sense of self-worth when we only feel: acceptable if we are seen as the one everyone else can always count on. in control when people see us as significant and respect our opinions. valuable when we have something impressive to give or do for them. loved when we meet their needs, stay available for what they want to do, and keep saying yes to their requests.

Why would I sacrifice my well-being trying to get people to give me what I need at all costs? What am I truly wrestling with? What am I so unsure of? What is the great dread in my soul? Besides just fearing other people will walk away from me, what is the deeper fear driving all of this?

Trying to please people won’t ultimately satisfy us or the other person, and it certainly doesn’t please God. I’m discovering that if I have a need and I ask something of someone else, that’s okay. But if I have a need and I demand it from someone, that’s a sign that I’ve crossed over into wanting from them what I should be seeking from God. But here’s what I’ve come to understand: God may be allowing that need in me so I will have the motivation to turn to Him.

The main point is, we shouldn’t and ultimately can’t be the one to supply all of what another person needs.

God calls us to obey Him. God does not call us to obey every wish and whim of other people. God calls us to love other people. God does not call us to demand that they love us back and meet every need we have.

Healthy relationships don’t feel threatening. Loving relationships don’t feel cruel. Secure relationships don’t feel as if everything could implode if you dared to draw a boundary.

We know God created us with needs and He placed us in relationships. But, just like the sun, our relationships should be close enough to comfort us but not so close they completely consume us.

sometimes, for good to happen, goodbyes have to happen first.

some goodbyes are for a season. But even in those seasons of separation, this doesn’t mean you don’t care about and watch out for the best interest of the other.

some goodbyes are not for a season, they are forever. But when two good people part ways and don’t cause harm to each other, it may actually allow for more good to be done in their respective callings.

Remember how Jesus defines the blind guide. Matthew 15:19–20, “For out of the heart come evil thoughts—murder, adultery, sexual immorality, theft, false testimony, slander. These are what defile a person.” It is not only okay to end a relationship where these things are present, Jesus warns us if we don’t, we may run the risk of falling into a pit with them.

What I didn’t realize is that trauma isn’t just something that happens to you. It happens in you. And the mistake I made is believing that I just needed to heal, forgive, and somehow move on from the facts of what happened. But emotional devastation isn’t just a set of facts. The greater blow to your well-being is the impact all this has on you—how you feel, how you function, and how you think.

Forgiveness is a command by God, but reconciliation should be very conditional on many factors—most of all whether all parties involved can stay safe and healthy if they stay together.

A big part of setting boundaries in even the best of circumstances is accepting the reality that when you know a change needs to happen, you need to move toward making it happen.

When a relationship shifts from being difficult to being destructive, it’s the right time to consider a goodbye. Here’s how Christian counselor Leslie Vernick defines the difference between difficult and destructive relationships: My definition of an emotionally destructive relationship is this: Pervasive and repetitive patterns of actions and attitudes that result in tearing someone down or inhibiting a person’s growth, often accompanied by a lack of awareness, lack of remorse and lack of change.

When we give people relational access to us, it should never lead to “less safety, less sanity, or less strengthening for the individuals in that relationship.”

Again, we all need grace when we mess up. But we also need the awareness that there is a difference between an occasional slip in behavior and an ongoing pattern of behavior.

I guess I missed those first couple of words Paul intentionally used with this verse, “if possible,” which imply sometimes it is not possible.

People who cause harm emotionally, physically, socially, sexually, financially, spiritually, intellectually, or relationally, whether they intend to or not, have a toxic impact on those who do life with them. Notice, I didn’t say those who make mistakes and then repent and get help to not make those mistakes again. But when those who inflict harm aren’t horrified by it enough to get help so they don’t do it again, they most likely will do it again.

If peace isn’t possible in the current circumstances in a relationship, then we must strive to find peace with that person by changing the circumstances or changing the relationship. We must remember that the longer a destructive relationship stays in turmoil and unhealth, the greater the risk will be for bitterness to creep in. And bitterness doesn’t just cause trouble for the person feeling it, it has a negative impact on and defiles all those around it.

sometimes there’s a gap that exposes those relational differences and makes them so much more obvious.

I get it. When I so very much keep wanting and hoping for someone to say something they’ve never said or do something they’ve never done, I’ve now decided to accept that maybe they never will. And I’ve survived. I’ve more than survived. I let grief into that raw space. And the very grief I’ve spent years avoiding actually helped me move forward.

Grief made me face my disappointment. Grief made me realize that my sadness wasn’t because I was wanting dead things to come back to life. I kept crying because my basic desires had never been given life in the first place.

were. I loved the idea of them loving me well but not how they actually treated me. I had hopes for these people and these relationships that they didn’t have at all.

I would never be able to draw appropriate boundaries with this person while holding onto my made-up version of them. The problem wasn’t that they didn’t see my vision for them. The real problem was I had refused to see them as they really are.

I had to put the unrealistic picture of this person and this relationship into the flame of grief. And plan a funeral.

So, here’s how one of these funerals goes for me: I acknowledge what isn’t. I state out loud what makes me so disappointed and how unfair the whole situation feels. I see it as a good thing to cry out to God. I will get it all out because He can handle my honesty, fear, anger, and utter devastation expressed in its most raw form. I give myself permission to cry as many tears as I need to. I then uninvite the image of the person I’ve held onto. That picture of who I wanted them to be isn’t reality. That picture isn’t reality. That picture isn’t reality. I acknowledge the person is unwilling or incapable of what I so very much desire for them and our relationship. But my desire doesn’t line up with their desire. So, it’s not realistic at this time. I release the person to be responsible for her life, just as I’m responsible for my life. I allow myself some time to feel sad and experience the emotions of grief. I say out loud what I’m releasing. “I am choosing to let go of [your notes]” (for example, resentment, anger, bitterness). I say out loud what this will now allow me space to receive. “I am choosing to receive [your notes]” (for example, joy, hope, a better future). I commit to setting and maintaining good boundaries for myself. And I will have another funeral about this tomorrow if need be.

the absolute commonality for all grief is the disappointment and pain that accompanies it. We mourn what will not be. But even more so we mourn what imperfection and sin has done to all of us. We all contribute to the reasons there is so much pain in this world. We all hurt others. We all fall short in the roles and responsibilities we carry. We all cause grief. We all carry grief. But the good news is, we don’t have to be consumed by our grief.

So, the last part of my funeral is bringing it all to Jesus. The grief. The pain. The longings unfulfilled. My sin against them. Their sin against me. My need for forgiveness. And the forgiveness I need to offer. I ask Him to stand in the gap between where I am and where I long to be. I give to Him what I now know won’t be and ask Him to bring His fullness into my emptiness.

But the one thing I don’t do is go back to pretending and living in denial. I’ve accepted this grief. I’ve had the marked moment of accepting what is and what is not. And it’s from this place of acceptance that I will move forward into healing.

The greatest source of my suffering was my refusal to accept what I could not change.