Ep. 357: Why You Keep Ignoring Your Own Preferences and What to Do Instead

Have you ever thought about social boundaries as giving yourself permission to be who you are socially?

When most people think about social boundaries, they think about things like how to deal with rude people, how to say no to invitations, how to stop toxic friendships, or how to handle difficult family members.

And those are certainly social boundaries.

But lately I’ve been thinking about something more foundational.

I’ve been thinking about social boundaries as giving yourself permission to be who you are socially.

One of the things I teach all the time is that boundaries aren’t just about what you say to other people. They’re also about how willing you are to honor what’s true for you.

And I think that’s especially important when it comes to our social lives.

For example, I don’t like scary movies.

Now, that might sound trivial, but there was a time in my life when I watched scary movies and tv shows because everybody else wanted to. I can still see the images to this day! I convinced myself it wasn’t a big deal. I overrode my own preferences in order to fit in.

Today, I don’t watch scary movies.

Not because they’re wrong.

Not because other people shouldn’t enjoy them.

I just know they’re not for me.

One of the things I’ve noticed is that we often dismiss our preferences because they seem unimportant.

We tell ourselves, “It’s just a movie.”

“It’s just a party.”

“It’s just a joke.”

“It’s just one conversation.”

But social boundaries are built from thousands of these seemingly small moments.

Every time we override a preference, we’re sending ourselves a message that what we want doesn’t really matter.

Now, I’m not saying we should never compromise. Healthy relationships require flexibility. Sometimes we do things we wouldn’t choose because they matter to someone we love.

The question is whether you’re consciously choosing to compromise or unconsciously abandoning yourself.

Those are very different things.

A conscious choice feels generous.

Self-abandonment feels resentful.

And then there’s sarcasm, I don’t like it. I was teased and made fun of a lot as a child. Sarcasm was used like a weapon in my family. Much of it was supposedly playful, but it didn’t feel playful to me. It felt painful. And If I ever said “that hurt” or anything to indicate I didn’t like it, I was told, “It’s just a joke!” It’s actually not a joke when you put me down or call me out publicly for some flaw. 

Sarcasm is  also a form of indirect communication, and I don’t do that anymore either.

So while other people may enjoy relationships where sarcasm is the primary form of communication, I don’t.

That’s my preference.

And social boundaries include honoring our preferences.

Another example is the way I socialize.

I don’t enjoy giant parties. I prefer smaller groups or one-on-one conversations.

One thing I’ve noticed is that I dislike coffee hour at church. It’s a room full of people making small talk, and I often don’t know many of them. It feels unstructured and disconnected to me. So I rarely attend coffee hour after church. But if there’s a discussion, I’m in!

Contracst tht with networking events, I love them!

At first glance, coffee hour and networking might seem similar. They’re both rooms full of people, many of whom I don’t know.

But they feel completely different to me.

At a networking event, there’s a shared purpose. Everyone knows why they’re there. My goal is to meet people, learn about their businesses, and hopefully connect them with other entrepreneurs I know. If business comes my way as a result, great. But what I enjoy most is the purpose, structure and making connections because I’m a connector by nature.

That tells me something important about myself.

I don’t dislike people. In fact, I Love people!

I dislike interactions that feel disconnected or purposeless.

That’s useful information.

The older I get, the more I realize that social boundaries are often less about protecting ourselves from other people and more about understanding ourselves.

For example, I don’t like surprise visitors. Don’t show up at my house unannounced!

I don’t pay attention to politics or current events, and I don’t discuss them.

I don’t get involved in gossip. Those days are over. I spent years gossiping about others but didn’t even realize that was what I was doing. That’s yet another form if indirect communictation.

If you want to talk on the phone, text me first. My days are scheduled because I run my own business, and I don’t spend my workday answering unexpected phone calls. In fact, I keep the ringer off on my phone so I don’t get interrupted by calls, text messages or notificaitons. I look at my phone when I’m available and respond when the time is right for m.e

I don’t attend drinking-centered social activities.

And I don’t want friendships that revolve entirely around processing problems.

Now, let me be clear. I absolutely want friends who can talk about difficult things. I’m a deep person. I think deeply. I feel deeply. I’m a processor, I love that shit! I need relationships where we can process life’s challenges.

But I don’t want that to be the only thing we do.

I want friendships that include laughter,  joy, ordinary conversation, creativity and fun.

I don’t want to be someone’s crisis hotline while never getting to know who they are when things are going well.

many of us learned that belonging required adaptation.

I know I learned that.

I learned to read the room, figure out what other people wanted and adjust myself so I could fit in.

And the problem is that when you spend enough years doing that, you lose touch with who you actually are.

You become so focused on being accepted that you stop asking yourself a very important question:

Do I even like this?

Do I enjoy this conversation?

Do I enjoy this activity?

Do I enjoy being around these people?

Do I enjoy the way I feel when I’m here?

For many of us, especially those of us who grew up in dysfunctional families, those questions never occurred to us.

We were focused on being accepted, not being authentic.

We learned to fit in, go along, laugh when everyone else laughed even if it made us uncomfortable or we thought it wasn’t funny at all.

We learned to attend events we didn’t enjoy, tolerate conversations we weren’t interested in or that felt a little too personal. 

We learned to become who we thought other people wanted us to be.

In other words, many of us learned that belonging required self-abandonment.

So we override ourselves socially all the time.

We go to the party we don’t want to attend.

We watch the movie we don’t want to watch.

We laugh at jokes we don’t find funny.

We spend time with people who drain us.

We stay in conversations long after we’re done.

We pretend to enjoy activities we actually dislike.

We force ourselves to be more social than we naturally are.

And then we wonder why we feel exhausted, resentful, disconnected, or lonely.

Social boundaries invite us to stop doing that.

They invite us to become more honest about who we are.

The challenge, of course, is that when you stop overriding yourself, you may discover that you’re different from the people around you.

And that’s where the real work begins.

Because social boundaries aren’t just about deciding what works for you.

They’re about tolerating the discomfort of being different from the people around you.

It’s one thing to realize you don’t enjoy giant parties.

It’s another thing to be the person who always leaves early while everyone else stays.

It’s one thing to realize you don’t enjoy gossip.

It’s another thing to change the subject when everyone else is participating.

It’s one thing to know you don’t want to answer every phone call.

It’s another thing to let the call go to voicemail and trust that you don’t have to explain yourself.

This is where internal safety comes in.

Can you remain connected to yourself when other people don’t understand?

Can you honor your preferences without apologizing for them?

Can you trust that you’re allowed to be different and still be connected to others?

Because that’s really the fear underneath all of this.

The fear isn’t that people will disagree with us.

The fear is that if we’re honest about who we are, we’ll lose our connection to others.

If I don’t laugh at the joke, will people still like me?

If I leave the party early, will people think I’m rude?

If I don’t answer the phone immediately, will people be upset?

If I say I don’t want to discuss politics, will people judge me?

Internal safety is what allows us to tolerate those possibilities.

It’s what allows us to say, “Someone might not understand my choice, and I’m still going to honor it.”

That’s where social boundaries become real.

Not when everyone agrees with them.

When you’re willing to maintain them even when they don’t.

social boundaries aren’t just about protecting yourself from other people.

They’re about honoring your preferences, your personality, and your social needs without apologizing for them.

And the more willing you are to do that, the more likely you are to create a social life that actually fits who you are.