What Therapy Taught Me About No Longer Tolerating Certain Behaviors
Therapy didn’t hand me answers. It handed me a mirror—and then stood with me while I learned how to look in it without flinching. One of the most important things I’ve walked away with is this: you don’t have to keep tolerating the things that drain you. That includes the people who consistently overstep, manipulate, or show you who they are—and expect you to ignore it. And no, you don’t need to feel guilty about protecting your peace.
I used to excuse certain behaviors. Especially when I cared about someone or had a long history with them. I’d think, “They’re just going through something,” or, “That’s just how they are.” But therapy helped me see that when someone keeps expecting you to show up with empathy, grace, and understanding—while they offer very little in return—that’s not just an imbalance. It’s a pattern.
It’s the double standard that gets you. The people who expect patience, but give none. The ones who want support, but get defensive the second you ask for it. Those who want space to be messy, but leave no room for their own humanness. Therapy helped me stop calling that love or friendship. It’s emotional entitlement. And it’s exhausting.
Something else therapy helped me name was the lack of accountability that often hides behind “calling people out.” A lot of people talk about being honest or real, but it’s performative. They’ll publicly call out someone else’s flaws—but won’t sit with their own. They’ll criticize, shame, or blame, but then twist the narrative when you try to reflect something to them.
True accountability isn’t loud—it’s consistent. It looks like ownership, emotional maturity, and a willingness to do the work even when no one’s watching. As Brené Brown (2018) puts it, real accountability takes vulnerability and discomfort. Most people skip that part.
And for a long time, I tolerated it. I thought forgiving someone meant I had to keep them close. I thought letting go meant I was giving up. But therapy helped me see that boundaries are not punishments—they’re protection. Like Dr. Nedra Glover Tawwab (2021) says, you can forgive someone and still decide they don’t get access to you anymore. That’s not being cold. That’s being clear.
One of the most powerful questions a therapist asked me was this: Are you staying because of their patterns, or their potential? That one hit. I’d stayed in more than one relationship—friendships, family dynamics, dating situations—because I believed in someone’s possibility. But the truth is, potential doesn’t pay emotional rent. Patterns do. You can love someone deeply and still recognize that their behavior is not aligned with your peace.
I also had to unlearn the idea that I was “too sensitive” for noticing when something felt off. That phrase had been used against me for years to minimize and dismiss my gut feelings. But sensitivity isn’t weakness—it’s data. As van der Kolk (2014) explains, our nervous system tells us what our logical brain hasn’t caught up to yet. When you ignore that signal just to stay likable or keep the peace, you’re the one who ends up carrying the emotional debt.
So here’s what I no longer tolerate:
People who treat others in ways they’d never accept for themselves.
People who dish out critique but fall apart when you hold up a mirror.
People who never take accountability—just make excuses.
People who try to invalidate your emotions so they don’t have to face their behavior.
And anyone who consistently shows me they’re not emotionally safe to be around—regardless of what title they hold in my life. anyone who does who doesn’t
Anyone who disrespects my mental health boundaries and weaponizes my challenges, symptoms or diagnosis —especially when they don’t even need to—usually isn’t trying to help. They’re just deflecting from their own unaddressed issues they don’t. They refuse to deal with the wrong stuff that’s on them now not me.
Healing doesn’t just feel better. It helps you see better. And sometimes the most loving thing therapy teaches you isn’t how to fix a relationship—it’s how to release it. Walking away isn’t failure. It’s freedom.
References
Brown, B. (2018). Dare to lead: Brave work. Tough conversations. Whole hearts. Random House.
Tawwab, N. G. (2021). Set boundaries, find peace: A guide to reclaiming yourself. TarcherPerigee.
Van der Kolk, B. A. (2014). The body keeps the score: Brain, mind, and body in the healing of trauma. Viking.