Every relationship runs on two invisible engines: boundaries and expectations. We set them with our children, our partners, our colleagues — even with ourselves. And most of the time, we believe ours are perfectly reasonable. Perfectly fair. Perfectly objective.
They're not. And that's where the trouble begins.
The Fence You Shouldn't Tear Down
There's an old saying: "Before you tear down a fence, ask yourself why it was built in the first place." Not every boundary is a cage. Some are guardrails. The question isn't whether to have boundaries — it's whether the ones you have are well-placed.
Poorly grounded, irrational, or rigid boundaries don't protect anyone. They create pain. And the way we adjust them over time matters just as much as where we set them initially.
The Tightening Trap
Consider a common pattern in parenting. Some parents — inspired by what's often called the "Japanese method" — give young children near-total freedom. No rules, no limits, maximum exploration. Then, as the child grows and the stakes get higher, they start pulling the reins. Tighter. Tighter. Tighter.
By the time that child hits 13, 14, 15 — right when they're developing a sense of self and craving independence — they've been squeezed into a box. The result? An explosion. Rebellion. The very outcome the boundaries were supposed to prevent.
Start Tight, Expand Gradually
Many child psychologists advocate the opposite approach: establish clear, firm boundaries early in life, then gradually widen them as the child matures. The goal is to reach a point — somewhere around the mid-teens — where you can honestly say: "I've given you everything I could. I've explained what I know. Now I trust you to make good choices."
This isn't just good parenting advice. It's a principle that applies to any relationship. In business, the more precisely a contract is written, the fewer disputes arise. In marriage, the more openly expectations are discussed upfront, the stronger the foundation.
The Root of Every Disappointment
Here's a truth that cuts across every type of relationship: all disappointment comes from unmet expectations.
And the cruel twist is that many of our expectations are completely unfounded. We enter relationships with an image in our heads — a picture of who the other person is, what they'll do, how they'll behave. We fall in love with the image, not the person. We load our expectations onto a fantasy.
Then reality shows up. The real person doesn't match the portrait. And we feel betrayed — not by them, but by the gap between our imagination and the truth.
The Myth of the Perfect Circle
Here's a metaphor I find useful. Imagine your boundaries and expectations form a circle. In your mind, this circle is perfect — smooth, symmetrical, flawless. You believe your expectations are objective and fair.
Now look at the actual circle. It's not smooth at all. There are bulges where your ego pushes outward. There are dips where your insecurities cave in. Your circle is shaped by your preferences, your habits, your blind spots — not by some universal standard of fairness.
And here's the thing: the person sitting across from you has their own imperfect circle. Their own bulges and dips. Their own biases dressed up as objectivity.
When two imperfect circles press against each other, you don't get a smooth ride. You get friction. Bumps. Collisions. That's not a sign of a broken relationship — it's the physics of two flawed humans trying to fit together.
The Answer Is Humility
So what do we do with all of this?
The answer isn't to abandon boundaries or throw out expectations. It's to hold them with humility.
Start by acknowledging a simple truth: your circle is not perfect. Your boundaries are not objective. Your expectations are shaped by forces you may not even be aware of. Some of what you believe is "right" is actually just convenient.
This doesn't mean you're wrong about everything. It means you might be wrong about some things — and you probably don't know which ones. That uncertainty isn't a weakness. It's the beginning of wisdom.
When I approach a relationship with my wife or my children, I try to carry this awareness: I am not perfect. My expectations are partly right, partly wrong. I must stay open to adjusting my boundaries, revisiting my assumptions, and admitting when my "perfect circle" has a dent in it.
Building on Honesty, Not Illusion
The strongest relationships aren't built on the fantasy that both people have perfectly aligned expectations. They're built on the honest admission that neither person's circle is round — and the mutual willingness to smooth out the edges together.
That's not weakness. That's maturity. And it's the only foundation strong enough to hold the weight of real, lasting love.