Why Setting Boundaries is Important? Ft. Hareem Sumbul

This one is a really important conversation for me because it feels like we touched on something that runs through every single part of our lives. I sit down again with Hareem Sumbul, who you might remember from season one where we had that incredibly raw chat about breastfeeding. She has since become Pakistan’s only practicing International Board Certified Lactation Consultant, and honestly, the work she is doing is changing lives. But today, we are not here to talk about latch or milk supply. We are here to talk about boundaries. Why they are so hard for us, why our generation struggles with guilt around them, and how raising kids who actually know how to say no is a whole new challenge in itself.

We are hardwired to be people pleasers

Hareem said something that I think will hit home for so many of us. She described how as a society, we have been conditioned to equate sacrifice with goodness. Especially for women. “AO sacrificial,” she said. Anyone who is not willing to sacrifice their own self is immediately labeled as difficult. We were raised by people pleasers, and in turn, they raised us to be people pleasers. We extract our feeling of self-worth not from how we feel inside, but from how others perceive us. That is the root of it. That is why defining a boundary feels like committing a crime. We are convinced we are not a good person, not a good girl anymore, the moment we draw a line and say no more. But living like that, constantly absorbing everything and allowing everyone to push until we break, it leads to what she called a generation of “flag bearers of resentment.” Unprocessed emotions, shame, and guilt that just sit inside our bodies and make us sick.

The guilt makes us aggressive, not assertive

This was a huge lightbulb moment for me in the conversation. Hareem pointed out that when we finally try to set a boundary, we often do it badly. We explode. We become aggressive. And the reason is guilt. At the back of our minds, we are carrying this horrible feeling that we are doing something wrong by not pleasing everyone. That guilt doesn’t show up as calm confidence. It shows up as lashing out because we are terrified of being rejected. So the other person doesn’t see a woman protecting her peace. They see rudeness. And then the narrative becomes “look, she is just being disrespectful,” which proves our worst fear. It is a vicious loop. Hareem put it perfectly when she said she has found herself thanking people after a respectful disagreement because they didn’t “jump down her throat.” That is how rare it is to see a boundary communicated without aggression and received without attack.

What we teach our kids about their bodies

This is where the conversation got very real. We talked about how the first boundary we break for a child, without even realizing it, is force-feeding them. Hareem said, “The day you start solids with your child, you are building the relationship with food.” I felt that. I told her about my own son, who is just two and a half, learning the word “stop” and using it loudly. It looked so rude in public, and my first instinct was embarrassment. But we have to pause and ask ourselves, are we teaching them that their body is their own, or are we teaching them that politeness matters more than their comfort? Hareem shared that she allows her daughter to say no to a hug at any point, for any reason. That takes immense courage, especially in a culture where elders expect physical affection. I shared a story about someone trying to pick up my child and her bursting into tears. In that split second, I felt stuck between maintaining “tehzeeb” (manners) in public and protecting my daughter. Theoretically, the choice is easy. Protect the child. But when you are surrounded by a very different generation looking at you, it takes every ounce of strength to say, “I am sorry, she does not want anyone to touch her.”

It is okay to let friendships go respectfully

We often think boundaries are only for toxic, horrible people. But sometimes, they are for people we truly love. Hareem spoke about an amicable breakup she had with three friends of over twelve years. These were not bad people. They were people she had cried for and laughed with. But they had grown in different directions. She realized they were agitating each other more than they were comforting each other. So she chose to quit while they were ahead, to honor the friendship they had instead of dragging it into resentment. This is something we do not talk about enough. It is okay to outgrow people. It is okay to say, “I love you, but this is not serving either of us anymore.” It is not a failure. It is preservation.

But boundaries have to go both ways

I loved that we touched on the flip side. We talk endlessly about drawing boundaries, but we often ignore the responsibility of respecting other people’s boundaries. I shared my experience working with Gen Z. I am a huge fan of this generation. I think they are more self-aware than we ever were. But sometimes, in their fight to protect their space, they can push against yours. I have been in situations where a work boundary was defined for them, but when I tried to define mine, the fear was that I would instantly be labeled a “toxic boss.” Defining your boundary while trampling on someone else’s is not empowerment. It is just selfishness dressed up in therapy language. We need to teach a two-way street. Yes, leave on time. But also understand that if a crisis happens and your team needs you to bend a little, bending is not always abuse. It is just being human. Hareem recalled her corporate days when a boss acknowledged in front of senior management that she had missed her uncle’s funeral just to meet a deadline. That acknowledgment, that respect for her sacrifice, stayed with her for decades. It is not about being walked over. It is about knowing when to hold the line and when to bend with kindness.

You have to guard your heart to survive this world

Given the state of the world, the constant stream of online violence and distressing news, boundaries are survival. Hareem talked about how when she first started as a lactation consultant, she had zero professional boundaries. She would hear traumatic stories of child loss or postpartum depression and take them home with her. She would lie awake at night, crying for her patients. She realized she could not be effective if she internalized everyone’s pain. “Guard your hearts,” she said. Choose your battle. You cannot fight for every cause all at once without burning out. That is not selfish. That is the only way you get to stay in the fight long enough to actually help someone. For me, as a mother, seeing images of conflict online and immediately picturing my own child, I have to consciously disconnect to preserve my sanity. It is not that I do not care. It is that I understand if I drown in it, I am no use to my family or anyone else.

This conversation really drove home how complicated boundaries are in a Desi context. We cannot just take the Western model of “cut them off and never look back” and apply it perfectly here. Our lives are deeply intertwined. But we owe it to ourselves to find a middle path. One where we are assertive without being aggressive, where we protect our peace without losing our heart, and where we raise kids who know their limits and respect the limits of others too. It is messy work, but it is the work that stops the resentment from eating us alive.