Have you ever dishonored yourself just to keep the peace?

People-pleasing often begins early, especially when you're raised in a culture where saying no is viewed as selfish, rude, or shameful. I grew up in a traditional Filipino household where values like loyalty, respect, and self-sacrifice were central. Family is everything. You're taught to show up no matter what, to give without question, and to prioritize the needs of others, especially elders, over your own. Love is often expressed through quiet sacrifice and endurance.

We were taught to stay up late for a relative’s birthday, even with a big test the next day. We were expected to hug every person in the room, even strangers, because that was seen as respectful. And while the intention behind these customs was rooted in love, connection, and community, they often came at the cost of our own well-being.

The word boundaries didn’t exist in our vocabulary. Saying no could be seen as disrespectful or ungrateful. So, like many others, I learned early to silence my needs to maintain harmony.

For years, I said yes even when I was exhausted, unwell, or emotionally drained because that’s what I thought love and respect looked like. It wasn’t until I reached a place of burnout, resentment, and emotional disconnection that I began questioning what I had internalized. Slowly, I started putting my needs first. At first, it felt uncomfortable and selfish. But over time, I learned that setting boundaries doesn’t mean I love my family or culture any less. It just means I’ve started including myself too.

Here’s what I’ve discovered along the way.

1) It’s hard at first. Guilt and shame show up quickly, even when you're doing something as simple as taking care of yourself. But those feelings don’t mean you’re doing something wrong. They mean you’re doing something unfamiliar.

2) Not everyone will like it. Some people might push back or try to make you feel guilty. But setting boundaries is not selfish. Expecting someone to give endlessly without considering their well-being is.

3) Ignoring your needs creates resentment. Each time I abandoned my own limits, I didn’t just feel frustrated with others. I felt disappointed in myself.

4) Your worth is not measured by how much you give. Being constantly available or agreeable doesn’t make you more lovable. In fact, it often makes you disappear.

5) The right people will adjust. Those who truly care about you may not understand at first, but they will come to respect your boundaries. Boundaries don’t destroy relationships. They show you which ones are based on mutual respect.

Learning to say no with compassion and firmness has been one of the hardest and most freeing things I’ve ever done. I’ve come to understand that honoring yourself doesn’t mean you’re dishonoring your culture or your family. It means allowing both to coexist more honestly. Balancing cultural roots with personal care takes courage, but it’s also an act of healing and deep respect for both you and those around you.

So what does setting boundaries in families that value collectivism actually looks like?

Caring for your own needs helps you show up with more love, clarity, and presence. Here are a few ways that helped me begin.

I learned that the way we speak matters. I didn’t have to be harsh to set a boundary. Saying something like I love being with everyone, but I really need to rest tonight, or I want to be present, so I need to take care of myself first helped me stay honest while still showing care.
I realized compromise doesn’t mean abandoning myself. If I couldn’t commit to a full event, I’d offer a middle ground. Saying I can’t stay the whole time, but I’ll come by for a little while allowed me to stay connected without burning out.
I learned that emotional space is important too. When someone brought up something personal, I wasn’t ready to talk about, I began saying I know you mean well but that’s something I’m not ready to talk about. At first it was awkward, but it became easier with practice.
I started normalizing my need for rest and privacy. I began to say I need time to recharge, or I’ll share when I’m ready without feeling like I owed an explanation. That in itself was a big shift
Most of all, I learned to let go of needing everyone’s approval. Some people felt confused or even hurt, but that didn’t make my boundaries wrong. Over time, the relationships that lasted were the ones that grew with me, where love didn’t require me to abandon myself.

Setting boundaries has taught me that you can love your family and still choose yourself. It doesn’t mean you care any less. It means you’re learning to love in a way that includes you too. And that kind of love, the kind that is honest, intentional, and sustainable, is the kind that lasts.

Connect Here