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Finding the space between caring for others and caring for yourself.

Man and woman in front of The Moth logo

At The Moth

I drove to the Kansas City area four days out of five last week.

And on the fifth day, I went twice.

Monday was The Moth. Wednesday was lunch with Mom and a job interview for my son. Thursday was a doctor’s appointment. Friday involved picking my son up in Kansas City, taking him to a last-minute dentist appointment in Lawrence, and then getting him back home.

There were plenty of opportunities for me to think, Why did I agree to this?

The week didn’t exactly go according to plan.

My son’s interview was unexpectedly moved from Friday to Wednesday. That meant rearranging my morning, getting his cat home, skipping the blood work I had planned to have done, and arriving at his interview with about five minutes to spare.

After my doctor’s appointment, I thought I could make a quick stop in Lawrence, pick up a new prescription, and still make it to Toastmasters.

Then the pharmacy called—or rather, the automated system led me through enough hoops that I eventually got a real person. The medication needed to be ordered. So much for that quick stop.

I decided to skip Toastmasters and go home.

That afternoon, my son called. He had an issue with his teeth and didn’t want to wait two months until his next scheduled appointment. The dentist could see him Friday.

So, I rearranged my Friday, too.

By Friday evening, I was exhausted. And once I got home, I didn’t leave the ranch again until Monday evening—not even to get the mail.

It would be easy to look at that week and say I need better boundaries.

And maybe I do.

Yet I’ve also been thinking about the difference between having a boundary and being rigid.

Flexibility isn’t the absence of boundaries

Young horses playingSometimes flexibility is healthy.

Plans change. People need help. Unexpected things happen. Life rarely follows the schedule we carefully construct for it.

If I had insisted that my original plans couldn’t change, I would have missed the opportunity to help my son when he needed me.

At the same time, flexibility can become a problem when we automatically rearrange our lives around everyone else’s needs without considering our own.

That’s where boundaries come in. A boundary might have looked like saying, “I can’t take you to the dentist Friday,” and sometimes that would have been the right answer. In this case, I decided it wasn’t.

My son has seizures and can’t drive. He also wants to be independent. In fact, before his interview was moved to Wednesday, he was already trying to figure out how to get there without requiring me to drive him.

So, I made a choice.

I chose flexibility because, in that particular situation, it felt more important than protecting my original schedule.

That doesn’t mean I should always choose flexibility.

So, where’s the sweet spot?

Valentine's treatsMaybe the question isn’t “Should I be more flexible?” or “Do I need better boundaries?” Maybe it’s, “Is this a choice I’m making freely, or am I feeling like I have no choice?”

That distinction matters. Flexibility says, I can adjust my plans because this matters to me. A boundary says, this matters to me, too.

The sweet spot is being able to bend without constantly breaking your own needs. It’s being willing to change plans without automatically abandoning yourself, and recognizing that a boundary doesn’t always mean saying no. Sometimes it means saying yes intentionally rather than resentfully.

I’ve had a few people recently tell me that my son should be able to handle more of these things himself. At his age, I agree. And I also know the circumstances that make this situation different. It’s a good reminder that we rarely have the whole story when we’re looking at someone else’s choices.

Before we judge someone’s boundaries—or lack of them—it might be worth getting curious. What do they know that we don’t? What circumstances are they navigating? And perhaps most importantly, are they choosing flexibility, or have they lost the ability to choose?

Because sometimes the healthiest boundary is saying no. And sometimes the healthiest choice is saying yes—and knowing why.

What does your kaleidoscope have to say?

Lego bricks

Finding that sweet spot between flexibility and boundaries requires knowing yourself. It means noticing the different parts of you that show up when someone needs something from you—the part that wants to help, the part that feels responsible, the part that needs rest, and the part that may be afraid of disappointing someone.

That’s part of what we explore in Discover the Kaleidoscope Within—Having the Courage to Connect with Every Part of You. When you understand the many parts of yourself, you have more freedom to choose how you want to show up instead of simply reacting to whatever is happening around you.

If you’re curious about what your own kaleidoscope might reveal, click the button below to schedule a Zoom with me. We can talk about where you are, what’s feeling stuck, and whether The Kaleidoscope Within might be a good fit for you.

Every Story Needs A Soundtrack. 3 women on horseback in a creek with musical notes in the sky.Every story needs a soundtrack.

This is the one I’ve chosen for this post—sometimes because of the title, sometimes the lyrics, sometimes simply the feeling it stirs in me.

Learning to Fly – Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers

Learn more about Susan by clicking the link below.

Click here to go to My Story.

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