Redefining Boundaries in Low Demand Families

In nearly every interview, I get asked some variety of the same question, “So if low demand is about trusting our kids and letting things go when they are too hard, how is this not permissive? What about setting boundaries for our kids?” The majority parenting culture has a shared belief that boundaries for kids are good. Boundaries are necessary. Boundaries keep kids safe. Without boundaries, kids would be lawless, selfish, uncontrollable and…bad. In this belief system, adult control keeps kids safe and good, and without it, there’s chaos.

• In my first blog, I explained how this definition of boundaries is based on toxic hierarchies, entirely wrong, and relationally damaging.

• In my second, I explored how punitive punishments are interwoven with boundaries, and how it is in fact a really good thing for all of us when our kids push back or just don’t do what we ask.

Now it’s time for the meatiest part of this whole journey: It’s time to redefine boundaries as a tool to build trusting connection in our parent-child relationships, without toxic compliance culture. In other words, if we’re not setting strict rules and enforcing consequences, what are we doing instead? What does a boundary actually look like in a low demand home?

This is the ultimate question. And for many parents — especially those of us who were raised in households where love came with rules, conditions, shame or punishment — it can feel like a cliff edge. If I’m not in control, then who is? If I don’t draw the line, won’t everything fall apart?

I get it. I’ve felt that fear too.

But what I’ve found, again and again, is that boundaries rooted in connection don’t lead to chaos. They lead to trust. They lead to relationships where we can all be human — messy, tired, overloaded, afraid — and still worthy of safety, respect, and care. It’s time to reimagine boundaries. 

Let’s start from scratch.

A New Definition

In a low demand home, a boundary is not a rule enforced with consequences. It’s not a weapon we use to shape our kids’ behavior. It’s not a performance of power or strength.

Boundaries are not walls to trap your child inside, so you can ensure their obedience. 

Instead, boundaries are sophisticated relational tools —nuanced ways to keep everyone in the family system safe, cared for, and in trusting connection with each other.

Let’s make this super clear:

In the traditional paradigm, a healthy parenting boundary is an aligned adult action to keep children feeling safe within a framework of clear and firm adult power and control. 

In the low demand paradigm, a healthy parenting boundary is an aligned adult action to keep children feeling safe within a relationship of trusting connection. 

What’s the same? A aligned adult actions to make kids feel safe.

What’s different? The larger purpose and relational framework.

This makes all the difference.

The purpose of a healthy boundary is not to prove adult authority, exert control, or provide leadership, but to protect the relationship. A boundary says:

• “I care about both my nervous system and yours.”
• “I want to stay connected, so let’s find a way forward that works for both of us.”
• “I’m showing up with care and clarity about what I need, so I can help you show up too.”

A low demand boundary is a clear, honest expression of what I can do, what I need, and what helps me stay connected.

In practice, low demand boundaries are flexible and adaptive — they respond to real-time needs and capacity instead of clinging to arbitrary rules. They shift as kids grow, change, and recover from stress. And they are at their heart collaborative — something we name out loud and discern in relationship– instead of enforcing from above.

What Does This Really Mean

Let’s work through an example of boundaries as relationship protectors:

When I was early in my low demand days, we had a LOT of meltdowns before I’d even gotten to take my first sip of coffee. These were meltdowns over people chewing too loudly, seeing siblings smile, seeing siblings eat the same cereal as this kid wanted, the milk sploshing onto the side of the bowl, and tons more things. Every day, a slightly different but equally awful meltdown. He was suffering. My other kids were suffering. And I wasn’t getting my liquid gold caffeine juice.

Traditional boundary solutions would focus on what is in my power to do that would clearly state the expectation, focusing on getting rid of the behaviors that were problematic. So I might: 

• Double down on repeating “We don’t hit in this family,” with an increasingly angry tone of voice
• Say that I would stop him from hitting by stepping in the path of the swinging spoon. 
• Hold his arms by his sides repeating that I can’t let him hit
• Take away his cereal bowl until he could calm down
• Send him to his room for timeout until everyone else was done eating

None of these would have protected the relationships-–they wouldn’t nurture a healing relationship to himself, a growing bond of trust with me, or a responsive relationship to his siblings. Importantly, none of these solutions would necessarily lift the burden on my shoulders, protect my body, or get me any closer to those sacred sips of coffee.

Low demand boundaries focus on what is in my power to do that enables the relationships to flourish, focusing on releasing expectations that are causing distress. 

So I said, 

“It seems like eating at the table is really stressful. I also know how hungry you are when you first wake up. What if I bring breakfast to you in your room first so you can eat in peace?” 

The boundary is my commitment to bring the cereal to his room. That is what I will do to support the relationships. It is supported by another boundary that I had already committed to – “I will not ask you to do something that is too hard for you. If it is too hard, we will let it go.” 

The combination of these two boundaries is what enabled my struggling son to eat breakfast without hurting anyone or having to suffer, my other two kids to have a peaceful and safe morning routine, and gave me capacity to breathe and sip my coffee for 60 seconds on the porch, a ritual that became lifeblood for my regulation throughout the day.

My boundary? “I will bring you cereal in your room when you wake up.” An adult action, based in my values, that supports the development of healthy relationships.

Why the Collaborative Nature of Boundaries Matters So Much

In the first two blogs, I shared an example from internet legend Dr. Becky Kennedy. Dr. Becky gives an example of a boundary when her kid isn’t turning off the TV to get ready for bed. She models saying, “I'm going to turn around. And when I turn back to you, if the TV is not off, I will take the remote and turn it off myself.” 

And I have a thousand questions. 

• Why does the TV need to be off at this exact moment? 

• What is the kid watching, and how will this abrupt ending impact their experience? 

• What need is this kid getting met in their TV watching today?

• What shared conversations have already happened around TV time in the family? 

• Is there a family rule about TV time that is being protected here, and if so, how was this decision around TV time made? 

• What matters most in this family dynamic right now, and how does this decision about turning off the tv move the family toward or away from that central focus?

These questions all matter deeply when we consider the function of a boundary. 

If your bigger goal is to foster a trusting, connected relationship, then it matters deeply if your kid was 3 minutes from the big reveal of the villain’s evil plot in their favorite show, or if they’d just started a new episode that they didn’t really care about. 

When a boundary is stated out of adult alignment, but not in a relationship of shared power and agency with the child, it is an act of control. It is the adult saying, “I hold the power here, and I will force my power onto you.” Or perhaps it sounds like, “I know better than you, and so you need to listen to me.” or simply, “because I told you so.”

Some children will not react negatively to this imposition of adult power; some may even appreciate it. 

My children? They lose their fucking minds.

Our Adult Energy and Intentions Really Matter.

But even assuming a collaborative framework, the power and energy behind our words matters. Dr. Becky’s modeling is a gentle shift from the traditional approach of “Turn it off right now or you lose your TV time tomorrow” (or worse threats). Dr. Becky’s approach also allows a moment for the child to process the information and to comply (“I’m going to turn around”), and it clearly states that the adult will turn the TV off if they do not. 

In my house, the innate imbalance of power in this dynamic would be deeply disabling – making it harder for my kids to do the right thing. Realistically, they already want to please me, be cooperative, and participate in the act of ending TV time without a fuss or a fight. This is already what they want to do. But if I used a statement like “if the tv is not off,” my kids would experience this as a clear threat, and if I shared the action I would take (“I will take the remote and turn it off myself”) this would be a clear (and wounding) punishment. Threats and punishments would scare them and activate them, making it much harder to turn off the TV and for us all to remain safe throughout. 

Note: This would be true if I worded it this way even if we had worked together to agree that this was a good time for the TV to go off. 

Thus a healthy boundary is this context is not as simple as what the adult means when they say the words. It is also based on how the child will hear these words. If the words feel loving and safety-focused to the adult, but they are experienced as threatening, scary, and wounding to the child, they are not as healthy because they do not truly support the ongoing flourishing relationship of trusting connection. The health of our boundaries isn’t how we want them to be perceived, or how we think they should be perceived. The health of our boundaries is in how it actually lands in this kid’s brain, body, and nervous system.

Boundaries Protect Relationships

In the old model, boundaries were about power and control. In the new model, boundaries are about preserving connection and supporting nervous system regulation.

When my kid is dysregulated, I don’t use a boundary to make them stop. I use a boundary to protect our safety and stability — sometimes by stepping away, sometimes by offering support, sometimes by gently naming what’s not working. But always in the spirit of compassion and attunement.

My job isn’t to win a power struggle. It’s to protect our connection.

Here’s an example:

My child is screaming at me in frustration. Old scripts start to rise in my head: “Don’t talk to me like that!” or “Go to your room until you can calm down.” But I pause. I breathe. And I choose a boundary that protects the relationship.

I might say, gently, "This feels too hard for both of us right now. I’m going to sit on the porch for a minute and take care of my body." Or: "I want to hear what you’re saying, but my ears are overwhelmed. I’m going to take a quick break and then come back."

In the last blog in this series, we’re going to get real specific with loads of real life examples of how to use boundaries in ways that release control and protect the relationship. If the ideas are fuzzy now, they’ll hopefully become crystal clear.

But here’s the key: I’m not punishing. I’m not controlling. I’m naming my need and making space for regulation — for both of us.

And yes, sometimes it doesn’t work right away. Sometimes my child follows me, screams louder, escalates further. But the difference is: I’m not adding fuel to the fire. I’m not layering shame or fear onto their already-overloaded system. I’m modeling how to get my needs met without disconnection.

Boundaries in a low demand home aren’t about immediate results. They’re about building trust over time.

When I say, "I won’t force you," and I mean it — my child learns that their autonomy matters. When I say, "I need a break," and I take one kindly — my child learns that self-care matters. When I say, "I’m not okay with that," and I stay present — my child learns that relationships can handle honesty.

That’s the long game. That’s how we build safety — not by controlling every moment, but by creating a home where everyone gets to be real.