Stop Trying to Control Everyone Else： The Freedom of Owning Your Own Boundaries

People often mix things up: you can establish boundaries, but you cannot compel others to honor them. Surprising, yes — many of us have tried to shape people into who we want them to be, to make them act in ways that meet our expectations. That impulse is understandable, but when someone isn’t inclined to cooperate, trying to force compliance becomes draining. Some people naturally line up with us and will cooperate; it’s those who don’t share our priorities that create friction. These people aren’t invested in your limits; they’re focused on their own wants. We get confused, thinking we’ve made a mutual pact, when in reality two people simply want different things. Because of that, it’s ultimately your responsibility to defend your needs, even if that means walking away. The belief that we can demand others become what we need them to be is the same mindset that makes boundaries so difficult in the first place. It’s tempting to see boundary-setting as someone else’s job rather than our own. The sooner you drop that fantasy — that shouting louder or repeating yourself enough will cause others to adopt your preferences — the sooner you free yourself from that mental prison. If you find yourself in a fight over a boundary, you’re likely not aligned with that person, and that truth can be painful. Avoiding painful truths usually breeds confusion. If you grew up with abuse or neglect and are only beginning to heal, setting boundaries will feel especially new and tricky, and it’s easy to blame other people for the fallout. Sometimes others are indeed the problem — when they hurt, violate, or steal — but a lot of the anger and frustration around boundaries stems from misunderstanding what a boundary actually is. People often ask how to get loved ones to honor their boundaries better, or how to make them more sensitive to CPTSD triggers. Wanting that support is reasonable. You can ask someone to understand your needs, to avoid known triggers, and to help you when possible, but you must accept that they aren’t obligated to do so. That doesn’t necessarily mean they don’t care; sometimes the most loving thing a person can do is give you space to notice your trauma reactions and work through them on your own. Even though you may have been told you have a right to make others respect your boundaries — even under extreme distress — it’s more accurate to say you have the right to ask for what you need and the right to remove yourself from situations that don’t work for you. Forcing someone to manage your trauma is unfair and ineffective. People also have the right not to honor your boundaries. You have the right to ask and to walk away; they have the right to remain themselves. When we push for a relationship without accepting who the other person actually is, it often erupts into continual arguments about being “disrespected.” A caring person might change some behaviors when asked, but they might not. PTSD-driven thinking will try to convince you that someone you love owes you change because their behavior upsets you. The reality is, unless someone is truly restraining you, they are simply being themselves — perhaps in ways you dislike, but not necessarily preventing your healing. You don’t have to like them or stay with them; dating and relationships are part of figuring out who you can accept and want to be around. When people act according to their own nature and give you space to manage your triggers, you gain the chance to practice what actually works long-term: self-regulation. Healing comes from learning to calm your own reactions instead of depending on others to do it for you. When you are regulated, you have choices — including the choice to avoid people or situations that don’t suit you. If someone’s drinking bothers you, you can choose not to spend time around drinking. Once regulated, you may also perceive more clearly whether their behavior is not harmful, or whether they are genuinely problematic — a jerk, a bully, or an alcoholic. You can ask for change once or twice, but repeatedly insisting — beyond a reasonable number of requests — crosses into control. Even if you succeed in forcing change, it won’t produce the heartfelt connection or support you’re craving. At that point you must either release the grievance or release the relationship. Nagging and coercion will only drain everyone involved. It’s tempting to believe that if someone else would change, everything would be fine. But when others do accommodate you, you often end up enclosing your trauma in a fragile, sealed box. Real healing typically comes through friction: people do their thing, you get triggered, and you learn to respond differently. That’s hard to control or avoid, and it’s why many people with childhood trauma withdraw and isolate themselves. Isolation may prevent triggers but it also blocks fulfillment. The task is to steer clear of those who would harm you, while learning to be at peace with the rest — accepting that healing happens inside you. Others’ behavior matters, but they cannot heal you, even if they wanted to. This pattern plays out everywhere: trying to change someone who won’t change, or being given help you don’t actually engage with. Self-help books, therapy, friends’ advice, videos — none of these can change you unless you decide to take them on. People can influence one another powerfully, for better or worse, so be deliberate about who you let influence you and realistic about how much you can influence others. Reasonable expectations include that people may create a calm, safe environment, encourage you when you’re overwhelmed, and remind you to use coping tools. Those supports can help, but the real work is learning to regulate your own trauma responses. When you can, the exaggerated demands, panics, and reactive behaviors that once pushed people away tend to soften, and relationships become easier. When you feel compelled to demand someone change, that’s often a signal to use a regulation technique I call stop and drop: stop escalating, sit down, and use the tools you’ve prepared. One effective tool is writing down the fears and resentments driving you — a daily practice taught in a free course referenced in the description section (open the “more” button to see the full details). The basic idea: pause, take out paper and pen, and list the fearful, resentful thoughts. As the thoughts lose their heat, clarity returns; the smoke clears and the truth becomes visible and manageable. It’s not your fault you were abused or neglected, but now the responsibility is yours to stop acting out from that wound. Notice your triggers, try different calming techniques, and practice them. Some people will be genuinely curious about what you’re doing and supportive — just not while you’re yelling at them, since that undermines the effort. It helps a lot to avoid discussing sensitive things while you’re dysregulated. If you recognize that your thinking is spiraling and anger is rising, pause. Arguments that happen in that state are unlikely to be reasonable or productive; they’re better postponed. Bring it up later when you’re regulated and can choose words that don’t slice like knives. There is a reliable way to get regulated, and it begins by taking responsibility for your reaction instead of blaming others in your mind or speech. Progress is possible when you can say, simply, “I’m having a reaction” or “I’m feeling really dysregulated and need to get sorted.” Resist the urge to launch into a long declaration about how you feel while you’re still triggered; demanding to be heard in that moment usually doesn’t help. The goal is to work inward, use your tools, and shift back into regulation rather than waving your distress like a flag in hopes others will fix it. That tactic rarely works. Give yourself time to write down those fears and resentments — it’s a precise technique taught in the book Re-Regulated, which goes into great detail with a full chapter and an appendix answering FAQs about wording and method. When done as instructed, it’s more likely to help you release feelings instead of magnifying them. After using this approach, conversations you need to have will tend to be lighter, clearer, and easier for the other person to hear. Even better, you’ll come to know that whatever present-day reaction the past lifts up, you have the capacity to handle it, preserve your boundaries, and slowly open to the love and joy life has to offer. If this material resonates, there’s a quiz that outlines signs trauma might be interfering with healthy connection; it’s free to click and download. Take it to see whether these patterns are showing up for you, and consider exploring the practices described here further. You can begin now and little by little reclaim more peace and connection.

Practical next steps and tools you can use right away:

• Simple boundary script: “When you [specific behavior], I feel [emotion]. I need [specific request]. If that can’t happen, I will [consequence].” Keep it short, factual, and unemotional.
• Three-step enforcement plan: 1) Decide the boundary and its realistic consequence (e.g., leave the room, decline invitations). 2) Communicate it once clearly and calmly. 3) Follow through consistently if it’s violated. Consistency builds internal confidence; inconsistency teaches others they can ignore you.
• Quick regulation techniques (use immediately when you feel heated):
  • Box breathing: inhale 4 seconds — hold 4 — exhale 4 — hold 4. Repeat 4 times.
  • Grounding 5‑4‑3‑2‑1: name 5 things you see, 4 you can touch, 3 you hear, 2 you smell, 1 you taste.
  • Stop-and-drop: stop the escalation, sit down, take 3 deep breaths, write down one resentful thought and one factual observation.
  • Cold splash or holding a cold drink: sensory shifts can interrupt panic loops.
• Daily practices that build long-term regulation: short journaling (including the fears-and-resentments list), 10 minutes of grounding or breathwork, predictable self-care routines (sleep, movement, nutrition), and practicing small boundary asks in low-stakes situations.
• How to ask for support without outsourcing regulation: Be specific: “When I get triggered, it helps if you say, ‘Take your time,’ or give me 20 minutes alone.’” Offer one or two concrete ways they can help, and acknowledge they may not always be able or willing to do so.
• When someone refuses your boundary: accept their choice, restate yours, and act on it. Example: “I asked that you not drink around me. You chose otherwise, so I’m leaving this evening.” Quietly leaving or withdrawing your presence enforces the boundary without escalation.
• Recognizing red flags where safety is at stake: ongoing physical violence, stalking, coercive control, sexual abuse, or persistent threats require a safety plan and professional support. Prioritize immediate safety — contact local emergency services or a trusted local resource — and consider talking to a therapist or a domestic violence organization for planning and support.
• Therapy and professional options: trauma-focused therapies (EMDR, cognitive-behavioral approaches, sensorimotor therapy) can accelerate learning to regulate and reprocess trauma. If you’re unsure where to start, a licensed trauma therapist or a primary care provider can offer referrals.
• Practice in low-stakes relationships: try boundary experiments with friends or acquaintances first to build skill and confidence before using them in more emotionally loaded relationships.

Final reminders: boundaries are a practice, not a one-time fix. They are most effective when paired with your own regulation skills, clear communication, and consistent follow-through. You don’t have to get everything perfect — aim for clarity, consistency, and compassion for yourself as you learn. Over time, these habits will reduce the urge to control others and strengthen your ability to choose relationships that truly support your healing and well‑being.