The Line in the Sand
Yesterday, we looked into the mirror of victimhood and saw the physical toll of poor stewardship. Today, we have to look into a different mirror: the mirror of people-pleasing. I didn't leave bedside psych nursing with the "goodbye" I had envisioned. In the end, my staff loved me (well I believe this now if their opinion is different OH WHALE). My desk was an explosion of my personality—bright colors, wooden butterflies, and flowers with every nurse's name on them. I kept snacks and card games for the night shift. I would have given the shirt off my back to see them warm, and for a long time, I thought that was my greatest strength.
But I had to learn a hard, ugly truth: A lack of boundaries isn't "kindness"; it’s a manipulation tactic used to make people like you so you don't have to deal with the discomfort of their disapproval.
The Parentified Child
Boundaries are the invisible lines where I end and the world begins. Mine weren't just blurry; they were non-existent. Growing up, I was the "parent" in many ways. I was conditioned to jump into action the second I saw someone around me crying. I became a master at finding solutions for everyone else or turning invisible while my own house was on fire.
By the time I was a nurse at the Psych Hospital, I was practically living there—working six days a week with a two-hour commute. I was home just to sleep, and even that wasn't restful. I didn't see my Chivita unless I was off. My hair was falling out, my weight was plummeting, and I was having asthma attacks 3-4 times a day.
Hard Truth: If you let everyone have access to you, don't be surprised when there’s nothing left for the people who actually matter.
The Overstimulation Trap
Because I gave all my "goodness" to a unit that was never satisfied, I had nothing left for my relationship. I would come home so overstimulated that I was mean to the person I loved most. I stopped touching my Bible. I stopped seeing friends. My mental health deteriorated so much that I felt like I was back in my childhood home—trapped in a cycle of performing to stay safe.
I thought I was being a martyr for my team, but I was actually just a doormat for a system.
Defining the Space
In 1 Thessalonians 4:11, when Paul says to "mind your own business,"
He is giving us permission to draw a circle around our lives. Stewardship requires boundaries. You cannot manage the resources God gave you—your health, your time, your peace—if you allow every toxic situation and every extra inconvenience to invade your space.
I had to realize that saying "No" was the only way I could say "Yes" to my fiancé, and to my own breath.
What The Line Should Have Looked Like
I was working 6 days a week with a 2-hour commute.
The Boundary: "I am only available for my scheduled three shifts this week. I need the remaining days to recover my health and spend time with my family."
The "Hard Truth" Lesson: A staffing crisis on the unit is not a personal crisis for my household. I cannot light myself on fire to keep the hospital warm.
When staff yelled at me, I would match their energy and go right back at them.
The Boundary: "I am willing to discuss this when we can both speak professionally. Until then, I am stepping away to focus on my patients."
The "Hard Truth" Lesson: I don't have to attend every argument I’m invited to. Staying in my own lane is a form of self-preservation.
The Line: Paul commands us to "make it your ambition to lead a quiet life: You should mind your own business" (1 Thess 4:11).
I didn't have to attend every argument I was invited to. My business was my patients and my peace; the rest belonged to the unit, not my heart.
I was "telling on myself" in the manager's office and constantly seeking advice out of fear.
The Boundary: Leaving work at the door. Not checking emails or obsessing over unit drama once I was home.
The "Hard Truth" Lesson: If I am still "at work" in my head while I’m sitting on the couch, I am working for free—and it's costing me my relationship.
The Line: 1 Thessalonians 2:4 says we speak "not to please people but God, who tests our hearts". My worth is not found in a peer review. If I had known I was already approved by God, I wouldn’t have been so desperate for the unit’s "thumbs up".
I let the toxic environment get so deep that I stopped touching my Bible and hanging out with friends.
The Boundary: Protecting my "Sacred Spaces." Making it a non-negotiable to spend time in the Word or with loved ones, regardless of how "overstimulated" the shift was.
The "Hard Truth" Lesson: My mental health and spiritual life are the Chivita of my soul—they need to be protected from the "wolves" of the world.
I let the "cussing," the lies, and the overstimulation pour into my soul until I didn't even want to touch my Bible. The Line: 1 Thessalonians 5:21-22 tells us to "test them all; hold on to what is good, reject every kind of evil". I had the right—and the responsibility—to reject the toxic energy of that unit to protect the "good" God was doing in my life with my fiancee and my future. I thought setting these lines would make me a "bad nurse," but the opposite was true. If you don't define where you end and the unit begins, the unit will eventually consume everything you are. I was trying to save a system by sacrificing the person God actually called me to be.
Reality Check:
Are you actually being "kind," or are you just afraid of what will happen if you stop fixing everyone else's problems? Who is getting the "leftovers" of your life because you gave the best parts away to people who don't even know your middle name?
Next Time: The Discipline of Love. We’ll talk about how boundaries actually make it possible to love people without losing yourself.