Invisible walls

Imagine this: You’re on a trip with your friends, and somehow, you’ve become the default planner. From booking hotels to organizing activities and managing the budget, you’ve handled it all. But when things don’t go as planned, like a delayed train or a less-than-perfect restaurant, you’re suddenly the one everyone blames. All the effort you put in goes unnoticed, and instead of enjoying the trip, you feel stressed and undervalued.

Relatable? That’s me, always going above and beyond, only to wonder why I even took it all on.

Fast forward to now: We were working on a major project called #Karo, and I was deeply invested in it. To me, it wasn’t just a project; it felt like my own business. I gave it my 150%, but as the days went by, I noticed not everyone around me shared the same energy. That’s when I was reminded of how I used to be just a year ago.

A year ago, I didn’t even know what boundaries were, let alone where to place them. I would give my all, take on everyone else’s work, and excruciate myself to get things done. Sleepless nights, exhausting days, headaches, and brain fog were my constant companions because of the workload I took upon myself.

But recently, I learned about boundaries, a small, short wall that needs to be built to protect myself and the work around me. I realized the importance of doing what’s required and not always going above and beyond.

There’s a thin line between someone who does extraordinary work because they are ambitious and someone who overworks to clean up other people’s messes. Once I discovered my boundaries, I felt a shift in myself. I was happier, lighter, and, most importantly, I stopped feeling responsible for the work others left undone.

This change brought something unexpected: I began experiencing some of the best moments with the people around me.

A few days into the project, a friend, my mentors, and I spontaneously decided to hang out at a café on a Saturday. We ended up talking for hours, not about work, not about the project, not about student stuff, but about their childhoods and how they grew up. Hearing their stories and laughter brought a sense of warmth that I hadn’t felt in a long time.

The following week, I went to another café with a colleague and two team members. One of them was leaving Let’s Enterprise, which came as a shock to me. I was upset, but as we talked about her decision, the conversation naturally shifted to her college days, her journey, and her dreams. We didn’t realize how much time had passed until we found ourselves window-shopping at a store and stationary shopping on the way home.

One night, during the height of the project, I received a video call at 2 a.m. from some friends who were out exploring the city. They asked if they could drop by my place. Before I knew it, they were sneaking into my home, laughing uncontrollably as we ate ice cream in the middle of the night. It was a chaotic but unforgettable moment that broke the monotony of deadlines and stress.

Another time, I found myself with all my friends the week following #Karo. We were all exhausted from the work so we decided to take a day off in Lonavala. The car ride was filled with music, jokes, and shared snacks, making it one of the most relaxing moments I’ve had in a long time. We ended up laughing, swimming, and watching the sunrise together. That trip felt like a collective exhale, a moment where we could all just be.

And then there was the morning trek to Katraj. The Goa batch was with us, and despite the early start, the climb felt effortless because of the company. We watched the sunrise from the top, climbed trees, and had deep, unfiltered conversations. It felt like time had stopped, and for once, I wasn’t thinking about what had to be done next.

Setting boundaries didn’t just improve my mental space, it opened up a whole new world of relationships and joy outside of work. I started noticing the people around me, understanding their journeys, and creating bonds that went beyond tasks and projects.

On the day of the #Karo event, as I stood on stage, hosting both the morning and evening sessions, I felt an overwhelming sense of pride and contentment. The event wasn’t perfect, but it was ours. We had poured our hearts into it, and seeing people enjoy what we’d built together was a reminder of why I do what I do. This time, though, I knew my limits. I had learned how to balance ownership with self-care, and it made all the difference.

Looking back, I realize that discovering boundaries didn’t just help me avoid burnout, It allowed me to embrace the moments that make life meaningful. And that’s something I’ll always cherish.

– Zainab