Most advice about “professional boundaries” is written by people who have never actually been terrified of losing their health insurance. It’s usually some HR-approved garbage about “having a courageous conversation” or “aligning on expectations.” In the real world, if you tell a boundary-stomping boss that you’re “prioritizing your wellness” on a Tuesday night, they’ll just find someone else who’s willing to answer the Slack ping at 11:00 PM.
I know this because I spent three years at a mid-sized logistics firm—let’s call them Logistics United—working for a man named Dave who thought a Saturday morning was the perfect time to discuss quarterly KPIs. One Tuesday in 2019, I was literally in the middle of a root canal when my phone buzzed with a message from him. He wanted to know why a specific cell in a Google Sheet wasn’t green. I replied while the dentist was changing drills. I felt like a hero then. Now, I realize I was just an idiot.
The part where you realize you are the problem (sorry)
I used to think being “responsive” was my greatest professional asset. I was completely wrong. By answering every 9:00 PM text, I wasn’t being a “team player”—I was training Dave to believe that my time had zero value. It’s like a leaky faucet. If you don’t fix the drip, the landlord assumes the sink is supposed to work that way.
You have to stop being so damn helpful. What I mean is—actually, let me put it differently. You need to become slightly less convenient. I tested this back in 2021 when I moved to a new role. I decided to increase my response time by exactly 15 minutes every single day for three weeks. If a message came in at 6:00 PM, I’d wait 15 minutes on Monday, 30 on Tuesday, and so on. By the end of the month, I was answering evening pings the next morning.
Guess what happened? Nothing. The company didn’t fold. The servers didn’t melt. My boss just stopped expecting an immediate hit of dopamine from my reply.
The more you give, the more they take until there is literally nothing left but a shell of a person staring at a glowing rectangle in a dark room.
Slack is a psychological weapon
I have a genuinely irrational hatred for Slack. Specifically, the “Huddle” invite sound. It gives me a physical jolt of cortisol that I’m pretty sure is shaving years off my life. I’ve used Microsoft Teams and Monday.com too, and while they’re all annoying, Slack is the one that feels the most like a leash.
I refuse to install Slack on my personal phone. I don’t care if “everyone else does it” or if it makes me “harder to reach.” That is the entire point. I know people will disagree with this, and they’ll say it makes them feel more connected to the team, but those people are usually the ones crying in the breakroom. If it’s a true emergency—like the building is literally on fire—they have my phone number. If it’s about a PowerPoint slide, it can wait until I’ve had my coffee.
Also, a quick tangent: I’ve noticed a direct correlation between how bad a boss is at boundaries and whether they use the “Sent from my iPhone” signature. If I see that at the bottom of a 10:00 PM email, I automatically lose 10% of my respect for that person. It’s a sign of a chaotic mind that can’t be bothered to even pretend they aren’t working from their couch while ignoring their family. Anyway, back to the point.
The ‘Small Delay’ method actually works
If you have a boss who has no boundaries, you can’t just flip a switch. You have to use the Small Delay. This isn’t about being lazy; it’s about managing expectations. I tracked my off-hours work for a month and found I was doing 12 hours and 40 minutes of unpaid labor every week just by “checking in.” That’s an entire extra workday for free.
- Phase 1: Turn off notifications at 6:01 PM. Not 7:00. Not 6:30. 6:01.
- Phase 2: If you MUST work late, use the “Schedule Send” feature. Never let them see you are online at midnight.
- Phase 3: Stop apologizing for not seeing things. “Sorry, just saw this!” is a submissive phrase. Try: “I’m picking this up now.”
I might be wrong about this, but I think the “Sorry!” culture is why we’re all so burnt out. We apologize for having lives. It’s pathetic.
A risky take on personal phones
I honestly believe that if a boss texts your personal cell phone for a non-emergency, you should be allowed to ignore them for 48 hours without penalty. In fact, I think it should be a fireable offense for the manager. It’s an invasion of privacy. I once had a manager who would text me memes at 11:00 PM and then get offended when I didn’t “LOL.” It was a total nightmare.
I eventually told him my phone was “having issues” and I was only checking it once a day. A total lie. But it worked. Sometimes you have to lie to people who don’t respect your truth.
If none of this works, you have to leave
You can’t fix a broken person. Some bosses don’t have boundaries because their own lives are empty and work is the only thing that makes them feel important. You are not their therapist. You are not their emotional support animal.
I’ve stayed in jobs too long trying to “manage” a toxic boss. It’s a waste of time. You’ll spend all your energy building a wall, and they’ll just find a ladder. If you’ve tried the delays, you’ve removed the apps, and you’ve had the “courageous conversation” and they still call you on your sister’s wedding day?
Quit. Just quit.
I know that’s privileged advice. Not everyone can just walk away. But start the exit plan today. Update the LinkedIn. Reach out to that recruiter you ignored. Life is too short to be an extension of someone else’s poor time management. I still get a little twitchy when I hear a notification sound that resembles the Teams ringtone, and I haven’t used that software in two years. That kind of damage stays with you.
Do you ever wonder if we’re all just collectively pretending that this level of connectivity is normal? I don’t think it is. I don’t think we were meant to be this available to people we don’t even like.
Go for a walk. Leave your phone at home. See what happens.