If you’ve ever cared for someone with Dementia or Alzheimer’s, you know the heartbreaking moments aren’t just about memory loss.
It’s about losing pieces of someone you love—while they’re still here.

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This year, I had to make one of the hardest decisions of my life: I moved my mom into memory care.
I live in Texas. She’s in Idaho. I’ve been her primary caregiver from a distance, and the decline in her memory has been faster than I ever imagined.
Dementia patients often experience deep confusion and anger. And unfortunately, the person they have the strongest bond with… is often the one who becomes their emotional punching bag.
For my mom? That’s been me.
According to the Alzheimer’s Association, more than 6 million Americans are living with Alzheimer’s, and that number is expected to more than double by 2050.
One of the most painful realities of dementia is the personality changes—sudden anger, paranoia, and confusion—that often get directed at the people who love them most.
It’s called “misplaced aggression” and is heartbreakingly common among caregivers.
Knowing this doesn’t make it hurt less—but understanding the disease can help you not take it as personally.
I’ve been on the receiving end of countless angry voicemails. There have been phone calls where I’ve had to hang up in tears, completely wrecked.
I’ve heard things no child should ever hear from their parent—deeply hurtful words, sometimes as extreme as telling me that I will go to hell, that God will judge me.
And yes, everyone tells me, “It’s not her. It’s the disease.”
But that doesn’t make the words hurt any less.
The Lesson I Had to Learn (the hard way)
What I’ve learned—through many painful, tear-filled nights—is that boundaries are not cruel.
Boundaries are not selfish.
Boundaries are actually an act of love.
Love for them… and love for you.
I realized I couldn’t keep answering the phone every time she called. I couldn’t keep sacrificing my emotional health and spiraling after each conversation.
So, I made changes:
- I bought her a special phone that limits how many times she can call me in an hour.
- I stopped answering every call.
- I gave myself permission to listen to my own boundaries, even when it felt uncomfortable.
Here’s what I’ve come to believe:
Boundaries are a requirement when you are loving someone through their illness.
You can’t pour from an empty cup.
And you can’t show up with love if you’ve let yourself become completely depleted.
This caregiving journey also changed how I show up in my work and life. In fact, I wrote about how I went from being an extrovert to pulling inward—read that story here.
A Gentle Invitation for You
Maybe you’re not a caregiver.
Maybe your situation looks totally different.
But if you’re feeling pulled, drained, or emotionally run over by someone else’s expectations (or even your own)…
It might be time to explore where a boundary needs to go.
And I want to invite you to start with just one.
Ask yourself:
Where in my life am I saying ‘yes’ when my heart is begging me to say ‘no’?
That’s the door. That’s where your first boundary belongs.
I’ve learned (and am still learning) that boundaries are what make relationships sustainable—not what break them.
If you’d like to dive deeper into creating healthy boundaries that protect your energy, your joy, and your peace—I’ll be sharing more stories and practical tools in my upcoming emails. You can join my list here to follow along.
When you join my list, you will get my free download guide: How to Set Gentle But Firm Boundaries Without the Guilt.
Or simply drop a comment below and share: Where is your heart asking for a boundary right now?
Head over to Part 2 where I share Practical Support and Resources for Caregivers.


