Last week, we talked about sensory overload: how our nervous systems get overwhelmed and how retreating into our minds feels like the only option.
But there’s another layer to this…
When we don’t know how to communicate our needs in a way others can receive, we tend to do one of two things: silently endure until we snap, or disappear completely.
In both cases, we’re left depleted. And often, misunderstood.
This week, we’re looking at why that happens, and what it actually takes to start communicating your boundaries in a way that protects your energy and strengthens connection.
But, first:
On April 10th, I'm hosting a free online training exclusively for Enneagram Fives called Stop the Thought Spirals.
This free training is for you if you’re ready to stop spiraling and start engaging with your life.
What you’ll learn:
✅ Why thought spirals happen and how to interrupt them
✅ A simple, science-backed 3-step method to escape overthinking
✅ How to instantly shift from endless mental loops into grounded presence
✅ One small action you can take immediately to reconnect with yourself and others
You’ll leave with tools you can use right away, no overthinking required.
➡️ Click here to RSVP and save your seat (space is limited).
PS. If you can't attend live, the recording will be available for 48 hours after the event. Make sure you RSVP to get access to the replay.
How I learned to make emotional conversations less draining
For a long time, my wife (who’s a Four) would bring up deeply emotional topics out of the blue.
For her, those moments felt natural and important. But for me, they were overwhelming. Every time it happened, I’d get quiet and try to be present, but I could feel my energy draining fast.
I never said anything, though.
I was afraid that if I asked for space or time to prepare, it would feel like I was minimizing her emotions or rejecting her vulnerability.
So, I stayed silent. Eventually, though, I started to resent those conversations—not because I didn’t care, but because I felt ambushed and unprepared.
Finally, I told her the truth: “If you could give me a heads-up, even just a few hours before bringing up something heavy, it would help me so much. Just knowing it’s coming would let me recharge and come into it with the energy and attention it deserves.”
Thankfully, she immediately got it.
And now, when something big is on her heart, she might say, “I’d like to talk about X tonight. Do you want some time to yourself first?”
It changed everything.
It helped me stay more engaged. It helped her feel more supported. And it gave me confidence that I can handle emotionally charged conversations, as long as I don’t feel ambushed by them.
But, we never would have arrived here if I hadn’t taken the risk of expressing what I needed, even when it felt vulnerable and uncertain.
Why setting boundaries feels so risky
As Fives, we often assume people won’t understand us.
So, instead of communicating boundaries, we either tolerate more than we can handle or we isolate.
Both strategies come from the same root: fear of emotional exposure.
We’re afraid of being rejected, dismissed, or misunderstood when we reveal what we truly need. It’s not just about protecting time or space. It’s about revealing what matters to us.
And that feels risky, because:
- Naming what you need means acknowledging you have needs.
- Communicating them means trusting someone else to receive them well.
- Following through on them means accepting that your needs matter, even if others don’t respond how you’d hoped.
All of this requires a level of vulnerability that often feels threatening to us.
So, we default to silence or avoidance, hoping others will “just get it” or, even worse, convincing ourselves it’s not worth the effort.
The slow drain of staying quiet
But, unspoken needs don’t disappear.
They quietly build up, adding pressure beneath the surface.
Eventually, we hit a wall: snapping at someone, emotionally shutting down, or vanishing from the situation entirely. What looks like calm from the outside is often internal depletion. And the cost of not speaking up tends to grow the longer we stay silent.
Disappearing might feel easier, but it doesn’t protect us.
It severs connection, and reinforces the belief that our needs are too much.
We think we’re good at boundaries, but we’re wrong
The irony in all this? Fives are actually great at drawing boundaries internally.
We know what drains us. We can usually identify when a line has been crossed. And we may even rehearse what we would say, in theory.
But, we often stop there.
Almost as if analyzing the boundary is enough.
Like if we just understand it clearly in our own mind, the other person will somehow know it too. But they won’t. That’s not how it works.
A boundary is only a boundary if it’s communicated.
Otherwise, it’s just a private preference waiting to be violated.
And when that violation happens—when someone unknowingly crosses a line we never spoke aloud—we blame them, shut down, or disappear. Not because we’re passive-aggressive, but because emotional exposure feels like too much.
The hard truth: boundaries don’t count if they only exist in our heads.
They only take shape in our relationships, through real conversations, clear signals, and follow-through.
And that takes practice…
A simple way to communicate your needs
Here’s something to try:
Think of a recent moment where you felt drained or overwhelmed. What was happening? What need went unmet?
Now imagine what you wish you had said. Not perfectly. Just honestly.
Then try saying it out loud, even if it’s just to yourself.
If you want a simple template to follow, here’s one adapted from the book Nonviolent Communication:
“When [specific situation happened], I felt [emotion] because I needed [need]. Would you be willing to [concrete request]?”
For example: “When we started talking about something heavy right after dinner, I felt overwhelmed because I needed a little time to recharge. Would you be willing to give me a heads-up next time, so I can be more present with you?”
It might feel awkward at first, but practicing this kind of clarity can make a huge difference—not just in how others receive you, but in how you start to trust your own voice.
This isn’t about confrontation. It’s about learning the language of self-respect. Rewiring your nervous system to treat communication as care rather than a threat.
Your turn
Think of one small need you’ve been holding in. Practice naming it.
Then, when you’re ready, try sharing it with someone safe.
And if you’re up for it, let us know how it went in the community so we can cheer you on.