Boundary Bound
“Good fences make good neighbors.” —Robert Frost
“Daring to set boundaries is about having the courage to love ourselves, even when we risk disappointing others.” —Brenè Brown
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What do you think of when you hear the word “boundary”? Is it the border between one state or country and another? How about the leash used to walk your dog? A shoreline is a boundary between a body of water and the adjacent land. Budgets are boundaries, as are book and social media bans. “Unsubscribe” is one of my favorite boundaries.
Boundaries such as these are important. We may grumble when a red light or stop sign slows us down, yet both are essential boundaries that safely and efficiently move road vehicles from one place to another—and protect pedestrians crossing the street.
Some boundaries, however, play a more personal role in our relationships with others. Not all, but many of these are restrictive in some form. Few toddlers, for example, like to be told, “no.” Curfews rarely endear us to our teens. Other boundaries, such as “I don’t do hugs—handshakes or fist bumps only please.” Or “No meat for me, thanks. I’m a vegetarian,” may surprise or mystify others, especially when they arise unexpectedly.
When it comes to loving well, relationship boundaries tend to generate more questions than other boundaries do. For example, can we love well and still have strong boundaries? If my boundaries upset someone or make them mad, am I still loving well?
The answers often depend on how those boundaries are expressed or maintained. Are they shared in a respectful, caring tone or one that is harsh or demanding? Could the boundary be shared in advance to help avoid an awkward or confusing interaction? How firm or flexible is the boundary? These and other considerations help make setting boundaries as positive an experience as possible, regardless of the circumstances.
Some of us, says speaker and author Jen Hatmaker, can be slow to acknowledge the cost of our reluctance to draw relationship boundaries when needed:
Many of us learned that disappearing a little was the cost of “loving well”…So we adjusted with the social precision of an acrobat. We smoothed things over, carried more than our share, told ourselves this was maturity until our bodies, our resentment, or weariness finally told the truth.
Hatmaker’s point is important. Consider the book club member whose long-winded or ill-timed participation drives other members away. Or the lunch date who gets annoyed when bad weather compels the other to reschedule. In these instances, and many others, boundaries matter. It’s unhelpful at best and deceptive at worst to pretend otherwise.
Be that as it may, discernment and accommodation play a vital role. For example, what if the bothersome book club member has dementia? Could group members work together to help manage her involvement in ways that minimize the disruption? What if the person who rescheduled lunch has a long and storied history of doing so, often at the last minute? Might that lunch partner feel justified in drawing a boundary by candidly conveying irritation that it happened again?
Here’s an example of the need to draw a boundary of my own. It’s from a time in my life when I was privileged to be invited to a friend’s home birth. My role as labor companion could mean anything from offering words of encouragement to walking her around to stimulate labor. It could mean running a bath, rubbing her back, holding her hand, or timing contractions. I had attended a few home births before, so I felt relaxed and excited about the impending arrival of this precious new addition to my friend’s family.
A few weeks before the baby’s due date, my friend called to tell me that she and her husband decided she would give birth at home with neither a midwife nor a doctor present. I understood her reasons and wanted to be supportive. However, I knew immediately that I was not comfortable being part of the experience in this newly configured form. Even so, I took a day to think it over in case my feelings changed.
The next day I gently explained to my friend that I supported her right to give birth in whatever environment she felt was best for herself and her baby. The idea, however, of having no medical expertise immediately available as needed felt intensely stressful to me. So much so that I felt it would interfere with my ability to provide the non-medical care to which I initially had agreed.
My friend was deeply disappointed and angry, too. Yet, while I respected her strong feelings, I could not let them pull me into a situation I may later second guess or even regret. I’m delighted to report that my friend delivered a beautiful, healthy baby girl into the waiting hands of her loving father a short time later.
Recently, however, I learned about a heartbreaking boundary trend that is more complicated and controversial than anything I ever experienced. It involves ending a relationship with a parent or, less frequently, an adult child or other family member, sometimes permanently. This growing trend is often referred to as going “no contact.” The Cornell Family Estrangement & Reconciliation Project estimates that 27% or approximately 68 million Americans are currently estranged from a family member.
The relationship rupture that follows the separation can be devastating, especially when it happens without warning or explanation. Motives seem to play a significant role in the outcome and are key to loving well. For example, is going “no contact” a last resort attempt to protect one’s physical or emotional well-being? Is it a desperately needed break to regain or preserve a sense of integrity or peace? Perhaps the goal is to create time and space to navigate a profoundly distressing or unsatisfying relationship with less pressure, more objectivity, and more compassion.
If so, some form of reconciliation may prove achievable when the time is right. However, it’s never easy. In an excellent article entitled “What It Actually Takes to Repair a Broken Family Relationship,” marriage and family therapist Vienna Pharaon explains that:
Repair is not pretending that nothing happened, brushing it under the rug, or telling someone to “get over it.” It also isn’t self-sacrificing or endlessly apologizing for something to simply keep the peace when you don’t understand or agree with it. True reconciliation requires…emotional maturity, acknowledgment, responsibility, and change.
Some people draw relationship boundaries easily and without hesitation. I don’t know if tech consultant Jennifer Schroeder is one of those people, but when the promotion she wanted and deserved was offered to a young woman with no experience in the field, she was angry. When she then was asked to train the new hire, she was furious. “I said ‘no,’ Jennifer explained. “Not ‘sorry,’ not ‘maybe later,’ just ‘no.’’’
Others draw few boundaries at all. Their reasons often include fear of causing offense or confrontation. I suspect most of us fall somewhere in the middle. Yet with persistence and practice we can learn not only to draw boundaries better, but also to feel good about doing so.
It helps to be patient with ourselves as we learn. In The Four Essential Pillars of Boundary Setting, author Catherine G. Cleveland reminds us that “Failure at implementing boundaries is part of the process…Each setback offers an opportunity to learn, adapt, and refine your approach.”
When we embrace that perspective, we move ourselves and others toward the authenticity and freedom where the strongest, most fulfilling relationships reside. That’s a win-win for everyone involved. And it is good.
Questions:
1. How good are you at drawing boundaries?
2. Can someone draw too many boundaries?
3. Do you draw boundaries more effectively in one area of life than another?
