Why We Box People In — And How to Stop

It started with a thought that’s been on my mind lately — about expectations.

Friends often expect friends to be available. Family expects the same. We’re human — it’s natural.

But here’s what I’ve been sitting with: I can’t always be there in person. I can’t always show up the way someone hopes I will. And yet, I am there — in spirit, in thought, through a message or a call.

When I looked closer, I noticed something else: I, too, have had expectations that weren’t met. And when that happened, I felt hurt. Not because the other person did something “wrong,” but because reality didn’t match the picture I had in my mind.

Over time, I’ve come to see how much meaning we give to everything. How much we define.How much we box things in.

We’ve created mental checklists for every role:

A friend should do this.

A partner should do that.

Children should behave this way.

And so forth.

And when someone steps outside the box, we feel uneasy, disappointed, even hurt.

Psychologists call this expectation-confirmation theory — the idea that satisfaction or dissatisfaction depends on whether reality matches our expectations, not on the objective quality of what happened. Once we define how something should be, anything different feels wrong.

The more I think about it, the more I see that most of these boxes weren’t built by us alone. They were passed down through social norms, traditions, and “this is how it works” advice. From the first humans figuring out better ways to survive, to modern life’s relationship rules, we’ve been handed definitions of how roles should look — often without stopping to ask if they still serve us.

This isn’t about abandoning structure altogether. Roles can help society function. But in our closest relationships, boxes can limit authenticity.

Because when we expect the people in our lives, such as a friend, to always show up in a certain way, we stop seeing who they are and only see who we think they should be. And when we play the role of “good friend” according to the box, we risk showing up rehearsed rather than real.

The other day, I was watching a man mow his lawn. My first thought? “He should be wearing headphones to protect his ears.” That’s my box. Maybe he enjoys the raw sound of the mower. Maybe that’s his way of being present. My preference isn’t the “right” way — it’s just my perspective.

What if we could approach people like that?

Notice without needing to correct.

Accept without needing to shape.

In our families.

In our friendships.

With ourselves.

Maybe then, connection would feel less like an obligation and more like a gift.

Maybe we’d stop rehearsing and start relating.

Because the truth is: people can surprise us when we stop boxing them in.