Grudges vs. Boundaries: A Public Service Announcement

Okay, listen up, because some of y’all are confusing grudges with boundaries, and it’s making my eye twitch. You’re stomping around saying, “I’m just setting boundaries,” when in reality? You’re sitting in a kiddie pool of resentment, sipping it through a straw, and calling it self-care. No. That’s not how this works.

Let’s break it down.

Grudges: The Emotional Junk You Keep Hauling

A grudge is like dragging a suitcase full of bricks through the airport just to prove a point. You’re sweaty, tired, looking ridiculous, and the person you’re mad at? They’re already at their gate sipping a latte.

A grudge says: “I’m going to keep hating you forever, and somehow, that’ll make you pay.” Spoiler alert: it doesn’t. They don’t feel a thing. You’re the one with the sore back, the sleepless nights, and the ulcer.

Example? Your ex cheats on you, and you’re still scrolling through their Instagram two years later hoping their new relationship crashes and burns. That’s not a boundary, sweetheart—that’s a grudge with Wi-Fi.

Boundaries: The Smart Fence You Actually Need

Now boundaries? That’s a whole different story. Boundaries are not emotional baggage—they’re construction projects. A boundary says: “That nonsense is not happening again.” It’s simple. It’s clean. It’s future-focused.

Your sister borrows money and never pays you back? You stop lending her money. Done.
Your coworker trauma-dumps at 8 a.m.? You say, “Not before coffee.” Done.
Your mother-in-law critiques your cooking every Christmas? Guess what—Christmas is catered next year. Done.

That’s a boundary. No hate, no drama, no five-hour TED Talk. Just: “Here’s the line. Don’t cross it.”

The Litmus Test

Ask yourself:

• Am I replaying the fight over and over in my head? → Grudge.

• Am I preventing the same thing from happening again? → Boundary.

• Do I secretly hope they trip on a Lego? → Grudge.

• Did I block them so I can finally breathe? → Boundary.

See? It’s not rocket science.

The Awkward Truth

Here’s why this gets messy: grudges feel like boundaries. They both come after someone wrongs you. But one is about punishing the past, the other is about protecting the future.

And let me warn you—people will accuse you of holding grudges when you’re really just setting boundaries. That’s because your boundary inconveniences them. Tough luck. A boundary that makes everyone happy? That’s not a boundary. That’s a doormat.

But let’s be fair—sometimes you’re the one lying to yourself. You call it a boundary, but really, you’re just bitter. If it still tastes like vinegar every time you talk about it? That’s not a boundary. That’s your grudge in a Halloween costume.

Bottom Line

Grudges punish you. Boundaries protect you.
Grudges rot. Boundaries build.
Grudges are prisons. Boundaries are freedom.

So before you brag about “cutting someone off,” ask yourself: Am I fencing off my garden, or am I just babysitting spoiled milk because I like the smell of bitterness?

Pick wisely. One keeps you stuck. The other keeps you sane.