I’m sure most of us have seen the “protected my peace too much, now I only hang out with my mom” videos on TikTok, or the “master detachment” videos on YouTube. And if you’re a people pleaser like me, and hate the way people treated you, you probably watched them and applied them to your life.
The problem with these videos is that they never tell you when, or how, to stop. You can have boundaries and still have friends. You can get your heart broken and still learn to trust again.
We’re human. Humans are social creatures. We’re wired for connection.
Some people tend to shut themselves off when they face failure, slowly building walls to protect themselves from others. But those walls don’t just block people from getting in, they also block you from getting out.
Protecting yourself too much is the real danger. Because at some point, it stops you from being yourself.
Self-protection can slowly turn into numbness. At first, it feels like strength. You stop reacting emotionally. You tell yourself you’re finally in control. But instead of processing your emotions, you begin avoiding them. Your boundaries become blurry, not because you don’t have them, but because you’re no longer sure when they’ve been crossed. You question whether what you’re saying is appropriate. You overanalyse every interaction. Instead of listening to what someone is saying, you focus on their tone, their facial expressions, their pauses.
You start trying to fix every minor inconvenience by becoming “low maintenance.” You tell yourself you don’t care when someone steps on your boundaries. You convince yourself it’s better not to cause problems. You’re the bigger person. It’s fine. As long as they leave you alone, you don’t need them anyway. You detach.
At first, it feels like growth. It feels mature. You’re an adult now. You’re no longer chasing people or tolerating disrespect. But somewhere along the way, you stop separating healthy people from toxic ones. You begin cutting everyone off equally. Everything starts to feel like a threat. A red flag. A potential disappointment.
You expect people to be perfect because you’re trying so hard to be perfect yourself. You build walls so high that no one can reach you. If they can’t reach you, they won’t see how vulnerable you are. How imperfect you are. How human you are.
But those walls are built on control and human connection cannot survive control.
You cannot control how people feel about you. You cannot control how they respond. And that uncertainty is exactly what makes connection meaningful. Without vulnerability, relationships stay on the surface. Conversations remain safe. Feelings go
unspoken. You communicate, but those conversations never turn into bonds which is what you craved in the first place.
Being alone is not the problem. In fact, learning to enjoy your own company is essential. Taking yourself out for coffee, going on solo walks, journaling your thoughts etc. these are healthy ways to build a relationship with yourself. But the goal of self-growth should not be emotional isolation. It should be emotional security.
Emotional security means knowing you can open up without losing yourself. It means trusting that if someone leaves, you will still be okay. It means understanding that boundaries exist to protect your values not to eliminate connection altogether.
The challenge, then, is balance.
We must learn how to protect ourselves without isolating ourselves. How to say no without shutting down. How to trust again without ignoring red flags. This balance is uncomfortable, because it requires courage. It requires showing up even after being hurt.
Growth does not come from hiding. It comes from participating in life fully, imperfectly, and honestly.
And I won’t pretend to have all the answers. I’m not an expert. I’m still figuring this out myself. But if any of this feels familiar, maybe the first step isn’t building stronger walls. Maybe it’s choosing one small moment of vulnerability. Talking to someone. Letting yourself be seen.
Because isolation might feel safe, but connection is what makes us human.