They Keep Disrespecting Your Boundaries—Should You Stay? The Gita Has an Answer
Riya Kumari | May 10, 2025, 19:56 IST
Let’s say you’ve drawn a line. A clear, neat, glow-in-the-dark kind of line. Maybe even with little traffic cones around it. And still—he steps over it. Not once. Not twice. But repeatedly, like it’s a hopscotch game and your mental peace is the prize. Now, you could stay and play referee. Or—and hear me out—you could pull a Bhagavad Gita and actually choose peace. Yes, that Bhagavad Gita. The ancient Indian epic that’s less about incense and inner chakras and more about straight-up life decisions that still slap in the era of left-on-read.
You set a boundary. Maybe it took everything in you to say it out loud. Maybe you said it calmly, maybe through tears, maybe with a shaking voice after months of swallowing your truth. And they heard it. Smiled. Nodded. Promised. Then… they crossed it. Again. And now you’re stuck in the silence that follows disrespect. That familiar ache between “I don’t want to lose them” and “I think I’m losing myself.” This is where the Bhagavad Gita comes in. Not as a religious text, not as something holy you place on a shelf—but as a mirror. A conversation. A voice of clarity when your own voice has gone quiet. Let’s talk about what it really means to stay in a relationship that chips away at your dignity, and what the Gita might whisper to someone who’s had their lines crossed one too many times.
1. The Gita doesn’t say “tolerate everything”—it says “know who you are”
The Gita begins on a battlefield—not between lovers, but between duty and despair. Arjuna, the warrior, is frozen. Not by fear of losing, but by fear of being wrong. He says, “I don’t want to hurt anyone.” And Krishna replies, in essence:
“But what about yourself?”
So here’s the question: What if your loyalty to someone else is disloyalty to yourself? What if choosing peace for them means starting a war inside you? Knowing who you are isn’t about ego. It’s about remembering that your feelings are real. That your pain is valid. That your voice matters—not just when it’s soft and agreeable, but when it’s clear and firm.
2. Your boundary is not cruelty. Their disrespect is not love
Many of us were taught—directly or subtly—that love means sacrifice. That to love someone is to bend, adjust, accommodate. And yes, love does require flexibility. But not to the point of self-erasure. The Gita talks of balance—equanimity—being steady within yourself no matter what storms around you. But balance isn’t passive. It doesn’t mean staying silent while someone constantly disrespects your limits.
It means choosing actions aligned with your values, no matter how hard. If someone loves you but cannot honor your boundaries, they may love you. But they are not loving you well. And love that does not make you feel safe is not love you’re meant to stay in.
3. Detachment is not coldness—it’s clarity
One of the Gita’s most misunderstood teachings is detachment. People hear it and think it means being aloof, shutting off emotions. But that’s not it. Detachment means you do what’s right—not what’s easy, not what’s popular, not what earns approval. You act with integrity, and then you let go of trying to control the outcome.
You don’t stay in pain because you’re scared of being alone. You don’t hold onto someone just because you once saw something beautiful in them. You let go because you saw something beautiful in yourself—and you won’t keep abandoning that for temporary comfort.
4. There is a cost to staying small. And it’s always you
You think staying will keep the peace. But over time, the cost grows. Your voice dims. Your confidence shrinks. You question yourself more and more. And then one day, you don’t recognize who you’ve become. The Gita reminds us that inaction is also action. Choosing to stay silent is a decision.
Choosing to stay when you’re being slowly undone is a choice. And that choice has consequences. Sometimes, walking away is the most courageous act. Not out of anger. But because you finally remembered—you are not here to be invisible.
5. Choosing yourself isn’t selfish. It’s sacred
There is something deeply spiritual about saying: “This is not okay with me.” That’s not arrogance. That’s reverence—for your own soul. The Gita is a guide to right action. And sometimes, right action means staying. Working. Rebuilding.
But other times? Right action means leaving. Gently. Clearly. Without hatred. But with full conviction that your well-being is not up for compromise. You are not required to keep teaching someone how to treat you. Especially if they’ve had enough chances.
Final Thought
You don’t need to be a saint. Or a sage. Or perfect at boundaries. You just need to listen to the quiet voice that’s been trying to reach you beneath the noise of guilt and fear. That voice—the one saying “enough”—isn’t selfish. It’s sacred. And maybe today, your battle isn’t about right or wrong. It’s about remembering what you’re worth.
The Gita won’t tell you what to do. But it will ask you to stop pretending your suffering is love. It will ask you to act—not with bitterness, but with truth. Because love should never feel like betrayal when you’re with yourself.
1. The Gita doesn’t say “tolerate everything”—it says “know who you are”
“But what about yourself?”
So here’s the question: What if your loyalty to someone else is disloyalty to yourself? What if choosing peace for them means starting a war inside you? Knowing who you are isn’t about ego. It’s about remembering that your feelings are real. That your pain is valid. That your voice matters—not just when it’s soft and agreeable, but when it’s clear and firm.
2. Your boundary is not cruelty. Their disrespect is not love
It means choosing actions aligned with your values, no matter how hard. If someone loves you but cannot honor your boundaries, they may love you. But they are not loving you well. And love that does not make you feel safe is not love you’re meant to stay in.
3. Detachment is not coldness—it’s clarity
You don’t stay in pain because you’re scared of being alone. You don’t hold onto someone just because you once saw something beautiful in them. You let go because you saw something beautiful in yourself—and you won’t keep abandoning that for temporary comfort.
4. There is a cost to staying small. And it’s always you
Choosing to stay when you’re being slowly undone is a choice. And that choice has consequences. Sometimes, walking away is the most courageous act. Not out of anger. But because you finally remembered—you are not here to be invisible.
5. Choosing yourself isn’t selfish. It’s sacred
But other times? Right action means leaving. Gently. Clearly. Without hatred. But with full conviction that your well-being is not up for compromise. You are not required to keep teaching someone how to treat you. Especially if they’ve had enough chances.
Final Thought
The Gita won’t tell you what to do. But it will ask you to stop pretending your suffering is love. It will ask you to act—not with bitterness, but with truth. Because love should never feel like betrayal when you’re with yourself.