Navigating Boundaries

Creative and autobiographical reflection on navigating boundariess.

In a recent supervision, we discussed boundaries and our approach to them regarding our current training status. The short answer (or perhaps the question) is: do we ever know where our boundaries lie until they are challenged?

"My boundaries feel like a translucent layer floating outside my skin. There's room between me and this material, and it's not stiff; it has some give and fluidity like jelly but is thin. It's so close to me that I can't make it out. However, in time, with comfort and experience, I can see it forming a more visible colour and breaking apart into floating points that can collect and make a whole layer when needed. Until then, allowing openness and fluidity for transformation."

This brought the image of embryonic fluid. A trainee, still in the womb, is at the beginning of my process. Eventually, it sheds skin and shifts. Something moves, dynamic, strong, and protective. Boundaries are golden plates. There is wealth and warmth in gold. Wealth is in knowledge, culture, and understanding. Warmth is how much it's lived in, cherished, and polished. I'm exploring how boundaries differ between life's personal and professional aspects. What boundaries do I have with myself compared to those I establish with friends, family, strangers, clients, or colleagues? Do we only set boundaries after they have been crossed? Before that point, how can we be sure they are merely assumptions? Is the concept of boundaries enough to validate them? In this post, I will primarily examine boundaries in a professional setting. However, I recognise the benefits of exploring boundaries in other contexts—such as with friends, family, and romantic partners—as they can inform my understanding in a professional setting, as I am sure there are overlaps in various ways.

I often reflect on my work experience, especially in support roles. While we strive for professionalism, we must incorporate friendliness and build rapport. Trust was developed through softness, honesty, humour, and laughter—particularly in my interactions with young adults since I am also part of that age group. I turn 30 in June and work with individuals aged 12 to 25, so the age gap is becoming more noticeable. This shift allows me to feel more comfortable asserting boundaries while giving me more time to listen to my instincts when something feels off. When I was 24 and supporting a 21-year-old, the lines between our roles were more blurred. This was my first support role in a special educational needs and disabilities (SEND) setting. I had the fun, friendly, and supportive aspect down, but I suddenly faced the challenge of asserting myself firmly. While a playful nature came naturally to me, being assertive with someone only a few years younger felt strange. I was aware of the precise physical boundaries and appropriate language, but there were more factors to consider that had not yet been realised. Navigating social dynamics, establishing a sense of authority, and understanding the complexities of emotional attachments proved particularly challenging. It felt strange to be only three years older than the person I was supporting, as this created a false sense of authority and contributed to my feelings of imposter syndrome, especially during moments that went beyond play or typical day-to-day support.

Being in a professional institution helped me grasp the importance of maintaining boundaries, a lesson taught by colleagues and learned through experience. In my reflections, I realised that it could be easy to confuse boundaries with expected behaviours from learners; however, there is a significant overlap between the two. Behaviours are often shaped by societal norms regarding what is considered 'appropriate,' while boundaries are defined by how I wish to be treated.I encountered additional challenges as I developed a bond with one individual I supported regularly. My involvement in their care increased upon their request and due to staffing schedules. I became one of their primary staff members and their preferred person within that setting. I created an environment where they felt comfortable, trusted, and calm.While holding this position was rewarding, I subconsciously formed an attachment and sense of responsibility that later proved problematic. I felt a deep sense of responsibility to support this person when needed, as I had built a unique dynamic that allowed me to assist them during crises. This individual had a team, and I moved up in their ranks, which drew me in even further. I eagerly seized any opportunity to offer my help because my sense of duty and care for this person intensified as I received validation for my support from them and other team members. When this individual entered a challenging period, it profoundly affected me. I couldn't fix their problems, and my emotional investment made it difficult to step back and realise how deep in it I was. I realised that I was carrying these feelings home with me. I felt a heaviness of shame and guilt weighing on my shoulders and constricting my chest. This emotional burden also manifested as a buzz of anxiety about how to support them effectively.That experience established a crucial rule for my future work: be aware of your emotions. While it's essential to care—this is fundamental to the job—it requires a significant amount of empathy. That day, I acknowledged the need for emotional boundaries. Getting involved is fine, but taking a step back is essential when those feelings start to follow you home. That was five years ago, and I've learned much since then.

While my understanding of boundaries in different settings is growing, they are the extent to which you allow others access to yourself. In my previous text, I described boundaries as a shield and a form of protection. Establishing healthy boundaries is essential for maintaining well-being across various contexts, including professional, familial, friendship, and romantic relationships. However, these protective mechanisms can manifest in unhealthy ways if they remain unrecognised or unaddressed.

Wilhelm Reich's concept of Character Armor refers to the physical manifestations that often appear as chronic muscular tensions developed to protect individuals from emotional pain or trauma. Over time, such defences can inhibit emotional expression, overall vitality, and chronic muscle tension and discomfort. The key difference between character armor and boundaries lies in the intention behind them and whether one's actions are controlled consciously or subconsciously. For example, a person aware of their boundaries may be able to confidently say "no, thank you" in situations that make them uncomfortable. In contrast, someone who struggles to assert their boundaries may experience their character armour manifesting physically—such as "Neck Armor," which involves muscle tension in the neck, constriction of the tongue and throat, and tighter breathing. This tension can persist long after the triggering event, leaving them in a state of freeze.

However, the presence of character armour can also serve a beneficial purpose; with increased awareness, it can signal your body's response to specific events. If approached with grace and kindness, these physical signs can enhance your understanding and help you establish more explicit boundaries to which your body can readily respond. Moreover, armour developed over a long period can be dissolved through Reichian therapy, which typically includes breathwork, bodywork, and emotional release techniques. ‘Character Analysis’ by Wilhelm Reich (1972). Character armour teaches us that signs of our emotions and experiences reside within the body, and through embodied awareness, we can become open to receiving this knowledge. Establishing boundaries acts as a protection, reducing the likelihood of holding onto tensions that might otherwise arise. My personal experiences have deepened my understanding of boundaries and have helped me learn how to set them effectively. Without these experiences, I might not have this insight. As I embark on this new placement and my future work as a therapist, I look forward to becoming more in tune with myself and learning from the various experiences I will encounter. I welcome these opportunities to learn as my boundaries continue to take shape around me.

Reference: Reich, W. (1972) Character Analysis. 3rd enlarged edition. Translated by V.R. Carfagno. Edited by M. Riggins and C.M. Raphael. New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux.