The Limitations We Place on Others (and Ourselves)

Yesterday, while aimlessly scrolling through social media, I came across a quote that stopped me in my tracks: "People will try to put the same limitations on you that they put on themselves."

I read it, scrolled on, but then something made me pause. There’s truth in it, but it felt a little judgmental. The wording suggested blame, as if someone was deliberately projecting their limitations onto you. So I reversed it in my head: “I put the same limitations on others as I put on myself.” Suddenly, it made more sense. And, of course, later in the day, I experienced exactly that.

This winter I have the opportunity to do some traveling to talk with farming groups about mental wellbeing. One of those invitations takes me to Gander, Newfoundland. As I quickly realized, getting there isn’t the easiest journey. It requires careful planning and, if I’m honest, a level of stress I hadn’t anticipated.

Here’s another piece to the story. Over the past few years, I’ve become more uptight about traveling. In years past, planning a trip was simple and even exciting. Airports were gateways to adventure, and flights were just another part of the journey. These days, the thought of flying sends my anxiety into overdrive. And now, there’s an added layer: my wife retired earlier this year and wants to travel with me.

In the past, I would have simply found the quickest, cheapest, and most efficient way to get somewhere and back. Now, with my wife involved, the planning process becomes a collaboration. And booking airline tickets online can test the patience of even the calmest person. So, tensions were high before we even began. Full disclosure: it was me. My stress quickly escalated, and before long, the conversation deteriorated to the point where both of us felt like walking away.

As I scrolled through endless flight options, losing my way on the website and ending up with routes that would take me anywhere but Gander, I realized something. I needed an attitude adjustment. This happens sometimes, usually too late in the process, but better late than never.

I stopped and reflected. My wife was approaching this as a trip, something to be experienced, perhaps even enjoyed. I, on the other hand, was trapped in my old way of thinking: get there, do my job, get back home. Cheap, fast, efficient. But not necessarily pleasant.

Once I recognized the difference in perspectives, everything shifted. We talked openly about what we each wanted from this trip. Suddenly, we became more adept at working together, even the website seemed easier to navigate.

It hit me then: I had been putting my limitations on my wife. My stress, my anxiety, my rigid expectations, weren’t just my own. I had unconsciously projected them onto her. By acknowledging it, I could let go of those limitations and approach the planning, and the trip itself, with curiosity, openness, and maybe even a little enjoyment.

This little episode reminded me of a simple truth about life and mental wellbeing. Our frustrations and anxieties often spill over onto those around us. Sometimes it’s subtle, sometimes it’s glaring. But when we pause, reflect, and shift our perspective, we not only free ourselves, we create space for connection, understanding, and collaboration.

So, as I continue planning this winter’s trips, I’m carrying that lesson with me. I’m trying to remember: the limitations we feel are often our own And the ones we place on others? They can be unlearned, one thoughtful conversation at a time.