Boundaries

Setting Boundaries: Saying No with Grace (Because Your Life Depends on It)

Listen, I’m not proud of everything I did back in the day. I used to think saying "no" was weakness. Like, how do you tell a guy who’s got a gun to your head that you’re not selling his product? You don’t. You nod. You smile. You say "Yeah, man, I’ll handle it." And then you get caught in the crossfire. I was 17 when I took a bullet for a "no" I didn’t have the guts to say. That’s why boundaries aren’t just about polite requests—they’re about staying alive. Not just physically, but really living. You’re not too far gone to learn this. I’m proof.

Why Boundaries Are Your Lifeline (Not Just a "Self-Help" Thing)

Let’s cut the fluff. In the gang life, boundaries were a death sentence. You always said yes. To fights. To deals. To "just this once." Because if you said no, you were weak. You were a snitch. You were dead. I learned that the hard way. My cousin, Rico, got shot because he finally said "no" to a rival crew. They took it as disrespect. I thought that was the only way to survive. Turns out, it was the only way to die.

Now? I run a youth program in East LA. I see kids who think saying "no" to a gang invite means they’re betraying their whole neighborhood. They’re wrong. Boundaries aren’t about being cold. They’re about being real. They’re the difference between you showing up for your daughter’s school play and you being too exhausted to speak because you said "yes" to every last thing. Here’s what I’ve seen in 15 years clean:

Resentment is a slow poison. I used to say "yes" to every favor from my old crew—driving for them, watching their stash. I’d be exhausted, angry, and then I’d snap at my wife. She’d say, "You’re not here*, Francisco." That’s resentment building. Boundaries stop that before it eats you alive. Your energy is your currency. When I was in the game, I traded my energy for "respect." Now? I guard it like gold. If a friend asks me to cover a shift at the program again because they’re "swamped," I say, "I can’t. My kids have a dentist appointment." It’s not about them—it’s about me being able to show up for my* family. That’s not selfish. That’s survival. Safety isn’t just physical. When I finally set a boundary with my old crew—saying "I’m done, I’m moving on"—they got angry. They threatened me. But that was the safety. The real safety came when I realized: their anger wasn’t about me. It was about them* being stuck in a life they couldn’t escape. Boundaries let you walk away from that poison.

The Real Talk: How to Set Boundaries (Without Sounding Like a Robot)

You don’t need fancy words. You need truth. And sometimes, truth is messy. Here’s how I actually say it, from my own mistakes:

• When a friend asks for a loan (again):

   Old me: "Yeah, man, I’ll get it to you." Then I’d be broke, stressed, and avoid them.  
   New me: "I care about you, and I want to help. But I’ve got my own bills to cover right now. Can we talk about a plan for next month?"  
   Why it works: I’m not saying "no" to them—I’m saying "yes" to my reality. And I’m offering a path forward. No guilt. No shame.

• When your mom calls at 2 a.m. after a fight with your brother:

   Old me: I’d drop everything, even if I was tired. "Yeah, Mom, I’m coming." Then I’d be exhausted for work, and my wife would be mad.  
   New me: "Mom, I’m glad you called. I’m at home with the kids right now, and I need to be present for them. Can we talk at 8 a.m.?"  
   Why it works: I’m not abandoning her—I’m honoring both of us. And I’m teaching my kids that their needs matter too.

• When your boss asks you to work weekends (again):

   Old me: "Sure, no problem." Then I’d be working 60 hours a week, missing my daughter’s birthday.  
   New me: "I appreciate the trust. To keep my work high-quality, I need to stick to my schedule. I can get this done by Friday, or we can discuss a deadline that works for both of us."  
   Why it works: It’s not about them—it’s about the work. And I’m not burning out for a "favor."

The biggest mistake? Saying "I’ll think about it." That’s just a delay. It’s not a boundary. It’s a surrender. I learned that when I said "I’ll think about it" to a drug deal. I thought about it for 3 days. Then I got caught. Boundaries need to be now.

When It Feels Like You’re Breaking Someone’s Heart (It’s Not)

This is the hard part. When I told my brother I couldn’t help him "move a little product" anymore, he said, "You don’t trust me." I felt like a monster. But here’s the truth: Guilt is a signal, not a rule. It’s your old self screaming because you’re changing. It’s not about them—it’s about you feeling unsafe in your own life.

Pushback isn’t about you. When my wife said, "You’re being selfish," I froze. But she wasn’t mad at me—she was mad at the old me who never said no. Boundaries aren’t about taking away from others. They’re about giving* yourself back. Your worth isn’t negotiable. I used to think, "If I say no, they’ll leave me." But the people who really* love you? They’ll respect your boundaries. The ones who don’t? They weren’t worth your energy anyway. My wife? She said, "You’re not selfish. You’re a human." That’s the truth. It’s okay to pause. I used to say "yes" to avoid silence. Now? If someone asks me to do something I’m not ready for, I say, "I need to think about that." And I do think. I breathe. I remember: This is about me, not them.*

The Cultural Trap: "No" as Disrespect in Our Community

This is real for us. In our culture, saying "no" to family can feel like you’re rejecting them. My abuela used to say, "A child who says no is a child who doesn’t love." I believed that for years. I’d say "yes" to my cousin’s requests, even when I was drowning. Then I’d feel guilty for not being there for my own kids.

Here’s how I broke that cycle: I started small. I said "no" to a family dinner so I could take my daughter to her first soccer game. I was terrified. But when I did, my wife said, "You showed up for her*." That’s what matters. I explained it as love. Not "I’m busy," but "I want to be fully present for you, so I need to say no to this." It’s not about them—it’s about us*. I let them be mad. My cousin was mad I wouldn’t help him. But he’s still my cousin. And I’m still here. That’s the boundary: I can love you without enabling you.*

The One Thing You’re Missing: Boundaries Are a Practice, Not a Perfection

I set a boundary with my boss last week. I said, "I can’t take on that project." Then I felt guilty for hours. I called my wife and said, "I messed up." She said, "You’re learning. That’s the point." Boundaries aren’t about being perfect. They’re about trying.

• Start with small ones. Say "no" to a text after 9 p.m. Say "no" to a coffee when you’re already tired. It’s practice.

Notice the relief. When I finally said "no" to a friend who always wanted to "hang out" when I was exhausted, I felt lighter*. That’s the sign you’re doing it right.

• Forgive yourself when you slip. I said "yes" to a favor last month. I felt awful. But I didn’t beat myself up. I said, "Okay, next time, I’ll say no." That’s how you grow.

Final Thought: You’re Not Too Far Gone

I used to think my past was a wall I could never climb. But boundaries? They’re the bridge. They’re how I got to my wife’s side at her graduation. They’re how I’m here for my kids. They’re how I’m not in a jail cell right now.

You don’t have to be perfect. You don’t have to be "strong." You just have to say, "This is what I need." And then say it again. And again. And again.

Because your life—your real life—is worth it. And you’re not too far gone to start.

— Francisco Meyer, walking a different path