A few years ago, I would have said, “I’m not a cat person.” And yet, here I am, living with two cats, Moon and Magic, who have taught me more about boundaries, love, and relationships than I ever expected. 

Initially, I thought I understood affection. I believed love meant showing up constantly, giving generously, and adjusting yourself to please others. Cats, however, had a completely different language. They didn’t rush to me when I called. They didn’t seek attention on demand. And they certainly didn’t sacrifice their comfort to make me happy. 

For a long time, I misread this as indifference or coldness. Living with them slowly shifted my perspective. It took me a while to slow down and truly observe them. Their way of communicating is subtle, a gentle nudge for attention, a quiet retreat when they need rest, a soft purr when content. It’s not loud, it’s not demanding, and it’s not performative. Their affection is intentional and measured, never obligatory. Observing this daily, I began to question my own assumptions about relationships. Had I been confusing constant availability with love? Had I been reading overextension as care?

Cats are Masters of Boundaries
And boundaries are not selfish. They rest when they need to, play when they feel like it, and offer affection on their own terms. They walk away when they’ve had enough. They give love freely, but never at the cost of their own comfort or sense of self. 

In their world, love and boundaries coexist seamlessly. Watching this unfold, I started reflecting on human relationships. How often have we been taught that care and affection require self-sacrifice? Many of us confuse people-pleasing with compassion, thinking that love is about constantly bending ourselves to meet the needs of others, even when it drains us.

In human relationships, we often struggle with this balance. Many of us have been taught that to be compassionate or loving, we must put others’ needs above our own. We’ve been praised for “sacrificing ourselves for the sake of others” or criticized for saying no, for taking time for ourselves, or for refusing to overcommit. Cats show a different possibility: setting boundaries isn’t rejection; it’s a form of self-respect. It’s natural, healthy, and it actually enables us to give more genuinely.

Compassion Without Overextension
Cats also show that true compassion doesn’t mean overextending yourself. It doesn’t mean erasing your needs or constantly anticipating the desires of others. Their care is intuitive, balanced, and self-aware. Observing Moon and Magic, I realized that respecting my own boundaries didn’t diminish my compassion, it actually enhanced it. Love didn’t vanish when I prioritized myself; it deepened.

There’s a gentle wisdom in this approach. When we care for others without losing ourselves, when we say yes because we genuinely want to and no when we genuinely need to, our actions carry authenticity. People feel it. Relationships thrive on it. I began to notice parallels between my cats’ behaviour and some of the most grounded humans I know, people who maintain their individuality, speak their truth, and yet remain deeply connected to those around them. Their compassion isn’t performative; it’s sustainable.

What Cats Teach Us About Relationships
The paradox is simple yet profound: 

Love that honours boundaries is stronger than love that ignores them. 

Presence that arises from choice is far more meaningful than attention offered out of obligation. Care that comes from understanding and respecting limits has a depth that overextended, people-pleasing affection rarely achieves. Cats embody this naturally, and their example reminds us that relationships flourish when both “me” and “you” can exist fully, without one erasing the other.

I started thinking of people I know who act like cats. They might not be distant or selfish; they’re just attuned to their own rhythms. They protect their space, they seek affection on their own terms, and they don’t overcommit themselves to please. And in doing so, they teach us an important lesson: respect for oneself enables respect for others.

Final Thoughts
And so, this isn’t really about cats at all. It’s about love that doesn’t have to overextend, care that doesn’t have to please, and relationships that respect the self as much as the other. Moon and Magic, with their quiet wisdom and independent spirits, have been my unlikely teachers in this journey, showing me that affection and boundaries are not opposing forces, but two sides of the same truth. Learning to respect your own space and limits isn’t selfish. It’s human. And the more we embrace it, the more authentic, compassionate, and enduring our connections with others become.