What Nobody Tells You About Cutting People Off

I used to be really good at cutting people off. Like… really good. Oftentimes, no explanation. No second chances. I just stopped engaging.

If something felt off, if I felt hurt, misunderstood, or uncomfortable, I was out. I was stayed polite, but disengaged emotionally. And if I’m honest, I wore it like a badge of honor. It felt like strength. Like self-respect. Like I had “boundaries.”

But healing has a way of shifting how you see things. And, boy, have I shifted on this. Because what nobody told me is this: Sometimes cutting people off is not always boundaries. Sometimes it is avoidance. And avoidance has teeth.

As I’ve done my own work, both personally and professionally, I’ve had to sit with something uncomfortable.

The times I cut people off were not always about protecting my peace. I was protecting myself from discomfort, vulnerability, and the possibility of having to repair something. Cutting people off meant I never had to say “Hey, that hurt me.”

It meant I did not have to sit in awkward conversations or work through misunderstandings. It meant I did not have to risk being disappointed again.

But it also meant I never gave relationships a real chance to grow. And that part is harder to admit. Somewhere along the way, everything became “toxic.”

And to be clear, some relationships are unhealthy, unsafe, and harmful. Those absolutely require distance or ending the relationship. But if we are honest, sometimes we use the word “toxic” a little too quickly.

Sometimes what we are experiencing is miscommunication, emotional immaturity, unmet expectations, different personalities, our own past traumas or triggers, or simple discomfort. And discomfort is not always danger.

When cutting people off becomes the default, we can miss out on things we actually need in order to build healthy relationships — especially the beauty of being fully known, not just in our easy moments. Not always, but sometimes.

Over time, this can quietly lead to something we do not always expect. Isolation. Not the peaceful kind of solitude we talk about on social media, but the kind where relationships feel short-lived, fragile, or hard to maintain.

One of the biggest shifts in my life has been learning about repair. And honestly, teaching it. In the work I do with individuals and couples, I see this all the time. People are not struggling because conflict exists. They are struggling because they do not know what to do after something goes wrong. Repair is what happens after the rupture. And rupture is normal.

Repair sounds like:

“I didn’t realize that hurt you. Can we talk about it?”

“I see how I showed up, and I want to do better.”

“That was not my intention, but I understand the impact.”

“Can we try again?”

It is not always clean. It is not always comfortable. But it is where trust is actually built. Not in perfection, but in how we come back to each other. Without repair, even good relationships fall apart.

Even as a therapist, I am not writing this as someone who gets it right each time. I am human.

I am writing this as someone who is continuously rejecting the instinct to immediately leave the moment when something feels off without being curious, speaking up, and working through things when it is safe to do so. And I challenge my clients to do the same.

I have had to grieve some relationships I cut off too quickly. Relationships that, looking back, might have been really meaningful if I had the skills I have now.

That is a hard realization. But it is an honest one.

This is not a message to stay in situations that are harmful, unsafe, or abusive.

There are absolutely times when the healthiest thing you can do is walk away.

Discernment matters.

There are ways you can learn to tell to tell the difference between when to repair and when to let something go, because that line can feel really blurry. I’ll post some resources about that soon…stay tuned.

If this is something you are navigating

If you are in a situation where you feel unsafe, overwhelmed, or unsure, please do not navigate that alone.

Some resources:

• National Domestic Violence Hotline (U.S.): 1-800-799-7233

• 988 Suicide and Crisis Lifeline: call or text 988

• Or reaching out to a trusted friend, therapist, or local support. Feel free to reach out to us if you’re looking for therapy or coaching support.

Boundaries matter. But so does connection.

And if every relationship ends the moment it gets uncomfortable, it might not be peace you’re protecting…it might be our capacity to stay, be known, and build something real.