The Weight of Nonexistent Debt: Reflections on Boundaries and the Development Sector

This piece was originally published in Atim Esther Mercy's Blog. Please find the link to the blog here:

In my ongoing journey to understand and set boundaries, I came across a passage in the book “Boundaries” by Dr. Henry Cloud and Dr. John Townsend that deeply resonated with me: 

“One of the major obstacles to setting boundaries with others in our lives is our feelings of obligation… Many people avoid this dilemma by avoiding boundary setting with those to whom they feel an obligation. In this case, they can avoid the guilty feelings that occur when they say no to someone who has been kind to them… the idea is that because we have received something, we owe something. The problem is the nonexistent debt. The love we receive, or money, or time – or anything which causes us to feel obligated should be accepted as a gift.” 

This passage prompted me to reflect on how often we become ensnared in the idea of “nonexistent debt,” particularly in professional spaces where the exchange of support, resources, and favors can create a false sense of obligation. I, too, have wrestled with this burden, especially in the realm of personal and professional relationships, where the lines between giving and receiving can blur, leading to a disempowering sense of indebtedness. 

While I am on the path of recovery—learning to acknowledge the value I bring to every room, opportunity, and relationship—there is a much broader context where this phenomenon is rampant, particularly in the development sector, where I have spent a significant part of my career. I believe there is an unspoken hierarchy of obligation in the development sector. In my country, the dynamics of giving and receiving support that characterize this sector often create and reinforce this unspoken hierarchy. Recipients of aid—whether from for-profit entities, non-profit organizations, or individual donors—frequently feel an overwhelming need to over-please their benefactors. This compulsion is not merely about gratitude; it stems from a deeper psychological and cultural belief that receiving help or support places one in a position of perpetual indebtedness. 

This sense of obligation is not just a fleeting feeling; it’s a persistent undercurrent that shapes the way individuals and organizations operate. The fear of losing support can lead to a cycle of over-accommodation, where the recipient goes to great lengths to meet the perceived expectations of the donor. This dynamic can stifle creativity, diminish the sense of agency, and ultimately undermine the very goals that the support is meant to achieve. 

Let me share a story to illustrate this point. 

Our community foundation runs a program aimed at economically empowering young women through skill-building in tailoring. We partner with local skilled tailors who train these women, thereby not only equipping them with valuable skills but also supporting the businesses of grassroots women. The arrangement is mutually beneficial since we provide the financial resources, and they offer their expertise and time. Recently, I reached out to one of our partner tailors on WhatsApp to arrange a payment via mobile money. She didn’t recognize my number at first because she had saved it on a different device. She casually asked, “Who is this?” When I identified myself, her tone immediately shifted. She apologized profusely, as if a simple question had somehow offended me. There was an unmistakable change in her demeanor, as though she felt the need to make amends for a perceived slight. This interaction troubled me deeply. It wasn’t just the apology that bothered me—it was the underlying fear and the unspoken belief that she had to tread carefully to maintain our support. 

Now this is where I have a problem with “support”. I dislike the power dynamics that are often inherent in what we call “support.” In my mind, our relationship with the tailor I speak of isn’t one of donor and beneficiary but of partners working together toward a common goal. We each bring something valuable to the table: we offer financial resources, and she offers her skills and time. Yet, the psychology of “receiving support” can be so deeply ingrained that it distorts even the most straightforward transactions. When we start to see every interaction through the lens of obligation, it warps our perception of relationships. Even when what we’re receiving is payment for a service we’ve rendered, if we approach it with the mindset that we’re receiving help, we start to act as though we owe something more—something intangible and ongoing. This nonexistent debt can erode self-confidence and lead to behaviors that are more about placating others than about true partnership. 

This dynamic is not limited to individual interactions but extends to the organizational level. Non-profits and community organizations often feel compelled to conform to the expectations of their donors, even when these expectations do not align with their mission or the needs of the communities they serve. This can result in a loss of autonomy and a shift away from community-driven solutions, as organizations prioritize donor satisfaction over genuine impact. Perceived obligation is a trap. Over the many visits I’ve made to this tailor’s shop, I’ve noticed a recurring pattern. Despite my efforts to downplay any sense of formality—arriving casually dressed, often on foot (on my way to or back from my regular walks) rather than in a car—there’s always an air of unease. These women, who are skilled artisans in their own right, seem to feel the need to be “too careful” around me, as if any misstep could jeopardize our partnership. 

I’ve noticed similar dynamics in other areas of life, including in my church community. During one of our discipleship services, which focused on giving, several questions emerged that caught my attention. Some members asked what a giver should do if they aren’t thanked or aren’t “thanked enough.” Others wondered how often a receiver should express their gratitude.  At first, I found these questions peculiar, but they quickly confirmed the idea of nonexistent indebtedness that I’ve been reflecting on. Even within a spiritual setting, the pressure to express gratitude—often out of obligation rather than genuine thankfulness—can reveal the underlying sense of indebtedness that both givers and receivers may feel. 

People often feel compelled to contort themselves into personalities they don’t even recognize just to keep the support coming. They become overly cautious, excessively polite, and in some cases, entirely different from who they truly are—all in the name of maintaining a relationship that should be based on mutual respect and shared goals. 

What’s even more concerning is how this sense of obligation can perpetuate a cycle of dependency. Instead of fostering empowerment and self-reliance, the relationship becomes one of dependency, where the recipient feels they must constantly prove their worth to the donor. This is not just harmful to the individuals involved but also counterproductive to the broader goals of development work, which should be about building capacity and resilience, not dependency. 

This experience has reinforced my belief that we need to reclaim the narrative of partnership in the development sector. True partnership is not about one party being beholden to the other; it’s about mutual respect, shared objectives, and an understanding that both parties are bringing something of value to the table. As I continue my journey of setting boundaries and shedding the weight of nonexistent debt in my personal life, I also strive to bring this mindset into my professional relationships. It’s time to challenge the unspoken hierarchies of obligation that permeate our sector and to foster a culture where support is seen as a gift, not a burden. In doing so, we can empower not just the individuals and communities we work with, but also ourselves, by acknowledging that we all have something valuable to contribute—and that true partnership is a two-way street. 

Moving forward, it’s crucial that we, as leaders in the development sector, actively work to dismantle the power imbalances that exist within our work. This means being mindful of how we communicate, ensuring that our actions do not inadvertently reinforce a sense of indebtedness, and fostering environments where mutual respect and equality are the foundations of every partnership. Only then can we truly achieve the transformative impact that our work aims to deliver. 

Thank you for reading, 

Atim 

About the Author:

Atim Esther Mercy is a founder of a passionate and evolving non-profit organization, a consulting firm, and a freelance consultant. But beyond the titles and roles, She is a storyteller at heart. She blogs regularly and the blog is her canvas, where she pens down all the highs and the lows, the insighs and lessons learned in her personal and professional life.