For a long time, I assumed boundaries were straightforward. You set them, people respect them and everyone knows what’s going on — end of story. But lately I’ve learned that boundaries are constantly evolving, sometimes in ways that feel confusing, inconsistent and honestly, kind of painful.
Someone I used to be fairly acquainted with recently stepped into a position where they were in charge of a part of my work life. Things changed, but not in a shocking way. They were still friendly, still willing to talk, still themselves, still treating me like a full person. It felt like we had just adjusted our dynamic to fit the environment and we were both trying to navigate the shift respectfully. That made sense. That felt like healthy boundaries.
But in another shared space, completely separate from the first environment, everything changed. It was like they flipped a switch I didn’t even know existed.
Suddenly, this same person barely acknowledged me. Not out of hostility, just … nothing. No eye contact. No small talk. No “hey, how’s it going?” the way they did with everyone else. A total freezing out that I’m pretty sure they didn’t even realize was happening.
And because most people know them and want to talk to them, their ignorance trickles down to other people. I would walk in and feel myself shrinking, like my presence somehow didn’t register or like I was wearing an invisibility cloak. The silence wasn’t hostile; it was almost accidental, but that didn’t make it any less isolating.
The first time it happened, I brushed it off. The second, I told myself they were busy. The 10th time, I realized it was intentional — it was a boundary.
When I finally asked about it, I was told it was just “keeping wor
k separate.” And I understand the logic. Not mixing work makes sense. Not talking about issues from one workplace in another workplace makes sense. What doesn’t make sense is avoiding a person entirely, creating a distance so big it feels like I don’t belong. That’s not “not mixing work.” That’s alienation.
And it stings more because I know they didn’t do it maliciously. They genuinely think that they are being professional. But somewhere along the way, that boundary stopped being about work and turned into distance and silence. It turned into me walking into a space and feeling like my presence was an inconvenience.
I don’t think they realize that their version of boundaries feels like hypocrisy. They’ll laugh and chat with me in one place, but act like I don’t exist in another. Their imaginary rule is supposed to create separation between roles, yet somehow it ends up creating separation between people.
This is where boundaries get complicated. When we treat them like strict, invisible rules we assume everyone automatically understands, people end up blindsided. Because boundaries don’t work like that. They shift with context, power, comfort and even when someone decides to interpret professionalism. They’re negotiated, not imposed. And when a boundary shifts without communication, it doesn’t feel protective. It can feel like rejection on the other side.
Boundaries may evolve, but they shouldn’t be used carelessly. They aren’t meant to silence people, or isolate them or decide who deserves acknowledgement in a room. They’re meant to create understanding, not walls.
Healthy boundaries protect relationships. Unclear ones chip away at them.
I’m not saying they owe me special treatment or endless conversation to everyone. But respect shouldn’t disappear when the setting changes and “professional boundaries” shouldn’t mean stripping someone of basic human warmth just because your job title is different in another building.
As boundaries evolve, the least we can do is evolve with care. Evolve with honesty. Evolve with enough awareness to realize when someone else might feel the impact of the line they didn’t know was drawn or tell them.
Because I don’t think people mean to cause harm. I don’t think most boundary-setting is malicious. I think sometimes, people are so focused on protecting themselves that they forget the ripple effect. They forget that silence also speaks and can hurt people.
The real lesson, I think, is that boundaries only work when they’re communicated and considerate towards others. They should be clear enough not to confuse people and compassionate enough not to hurt them. The moment a boundary becomes a wall instead of a guideline, it stops doing its job.
So yes, boundaries are constantly evolving. But I hope we remember that the people on the other side of those boundaries are evolving too. And nobody deserves to feel invisible in the process.
But evolving boundaries should never make someone feel smaller, quieter or less welcome. If anything, they should help us navigate spaces, not push us out of them.
