Yoo hoo? Is there anybody there?

I know there are many of you who check back with my blog regularly and I think I am not only letting you down, but I have let myself down the last couple of weeks by not just pushing through. I’m not saying I feel pressure to write because I know you read, but your public and private comments have helped me not feel so alone. The process of reading and writing is therapeutic for me, but the dialogue (and even debate) that ensues stretches my understanding.

Sometimes (only sometimes) I wish I felt safe to explain my current life situations on this blog and sometimes I am grateful I have kept things fairly vague. I am also grateful to those of you who know me personally and haven’t pushed or pried.

That said, within days of my last post, my personal fears found footing in reality. Because of this, as with any type of tragedy, I have gone through many of the stages of grief … some of which I have repeated multiple times in the past weeks and over the last six months; some I have barely skimmed through and others I seem to be stuck in:  

1.      Shock & Denial

2.      Pain & Guilt

3.      Anger & Bargaining

4.      Depression, Reflection, Loneliness

5.      The Upward Turn

6.      Reconstruction & Working Through

7.      Acceptance & Hope

I am sure the last three stages will eventually come, but as for now they seem a long, impossible way off.

Knowing I’m not the only person in my world who is struggling, I scheduled to take my boys to the Center for Grieving Children. They have been showing signs of the stress: crying more, blowing up with anger, saying their tummy is doing flip-flops, begging to sleep with me, praying that, “We can have a good day tomorrow, that no one will be sad, that everyone will be happy, and that no one will be sad. Amen.”

Last week was their intake interview and tour of the facility. On our way, they moaned and groaned and said they didn’t want to go. I tried to reassure them it would be okay—that we could just check it out and see what we thought. They were skeptical, at best. After they quickly bonded with the counselor and played in the game room, they didn’t want to leave. Since that introduction, they have each asked multiple times (usually when they were having a hard day or they saw one of their brothers struggling emotionally), “When are we going back to the place that helps kids be happy? Can we go today?” While I nearly burst into tears at hearing them say this, I feel immense gratitude that such a place exists.

Emotions ran high tonight as we drove to the center. None of knew what to expect of an actual group session. On one hand, it is devastating to see the other children there who are suffering, some from circumstances much more tragic than we could imagine. On the other hand, for my boys to realize there are other kids out there, who are also feeling sad or who may be going through similar situations, is a huge blessing of comfort. I felt nervous and hoped it would be an answer to many prayers. Undoubtedly, the wonder and worry from the boys stirred their emotions to the point they were bouncing nervously, fighting, yelling, and crying nearly the entire drive there.

By the time we were in the parking lot, my middle son wouldn’t move from his seat in the car—upset about being punched by his brother. My oldest, looking forward to making new friends, was eager to start chit-chatting with other kids and the volunteers. My youngest had finally calmed down and was even willing to apologize for hitting his brother. I wondered if the roller coaster of emotions would level out and the boys would be receptive to the activities and discussions conducted by the center volunteers.

Within minutes, in walked another family, kids upset and crying. I realized how normal my boys were reacting. I also realized we were in the right place.

In addition to all of this, the same week as my last blog post, my therapist gave me the proverbial shove from the nest, telling me it was essentially time to fly … solo. He had tried to do this a couple of months prior, and I hadn’t handled the news very well. By his third attempt, I accepted my fate. The funny thing with therapy is I think many of us have the opinion that you go until you fix what’s wrong, you go until you “get better.” My therapist pointed out that all of us could benefit from therapy and that any of us have enough issues that we could spend our entire lives in counseling. He’s right. And, some people like me have a surplus of issues that weekly counseling appointments weren’t enough … I also had to blog. Honestly, I began the blog knowing full well that he was going to eventually cut me loose—I had to find an outlet and process that could be long-term. I suppose it’s a little like self-medicating. Self-counseling, anyone? (My new saying, “Just blog it out, blog … it … out.”)

So, my life is in the crapper, I’m on the verge of losing my home, my therapist broke up with me, and with the compounded stress I have been suffering from some medical-related issues. But those weren’t the reasons I hadn’t been able to blog. The real reason is because I have been working three jobs, one of which has been a step toward fulfilling a life-long dream: being paid to write.

The thing is, amid all of my personal struggles, I have been blessed with some of the most amazing experiences, people, and opportunities of my life. Currently, I am working (nights and weekends) doing freelance copywriting for a local big name book publishing/distributing company. This has been a humbling, inebriating, and rewarding experience. Unfortunately, it has taken much of the “spare” time I used to have to read and write things I wanted to, and now I am reading for research and writing for pay. Don’t get me wrong, I am not complaining. Like I said, this is a dream come true!

Additionally, the sitcom treatment and pilot my brother, sister, and I had written is getting serious attention and we are finalizing paperwork to procure a large monetary investment to film a teaser. Even as I type that, I think I should probably delete it and leave it left unsaid for fear of jinxing the project. Instead, I’m going to put it out to the blog universe and ask friends and family to send lots of positive thoughts and prayers to help us realize this dream (which is really just a version of my previously mentioned dream—getting paid for my writing).

Looking for the silver lining is something I have always struggled with and have been trying to practice daily. It is a skill I would like my own sons to develop, as well. Sunday morning, I lay in bed snuggling with my middle child. Hoping to check his barometer, I asked him, “How is life?”

“A little good,” he said, seeming a bit melancholy.

“Just a little good? Why only a little good?” I probed.

He proceeded to announce the reason life for our family has been more difficult than usual. I knew it was coming. I wondered what my new friend would say in this situation to her son. She has been an inspiration to me and I feel stronger each time I talk to her. (I need to make a WWTD ring.)

“What?” I feigned surprise, “You mean you can only tell me one thing that’s wrong in your life and that’s what’s making your life only a little good and keeping your life from being great?!” (Yes, I felt like a hypocrite telling him this—I was giving myself the talk, more than I was giving it to him.) “Let’s name all of the things that are great in your life right now!” For the next few minutes we came up with nearly thirty different reasons life is more than just a little good, it is great! As we did, the smile on his lips grew wider, his eyes brighter, and he hugged me and said, “Let’s go make French toast.” I’m not sure what French toast has to do with it, but we hadn’t made a good, hot, homemade breakfast for awhile. It was time.

So, here I sit, staring at my laptop, the upcoming blog post about Boundaries still in its skeletal form. I guess it can wait a little longer. Besides, I’ve got research to do for some television and radio ads I have been commissioned to write. Oh darn.

Boundaries Part IV: Why Teach Children Boundaries?

In studying my own blurred boundaries, there has been one major issue nagging at me, begging to be written. This is the issue of teaching boundaries to my children. I want to first address the reason we, as parents, should feel compelled to help our kids become competent at constructing and maintaining boundaries. (My next boundary-related blog post will focus on how to do so.) Cloud & Townsend (1992) said it best: “Of all the areas in which boundaries are crucially important, none is more relevant than that of raising children. How we approach boundaries and child rearing will have enormous impact on the characters of our kids. On how they develop values. On how well they do in school. On friends they pick. On whom they marry. And on how well they do in a career” (p.168).

As a compliant person, who fears telling others “no,” I also fear I am creating kids who will imitate my behavior and thereby struggle with their school or career performance and relationships. Admittedly, I have been a pretty controlling parent, expecting exact and prompt obedience from my children. There are some benefits to this training—such as during times of emergency and during, well, other times of, say, an emergency. Yeah, pretty much, I realize that in teaching my children to obey regardless of their desires or preferences, I am teaching them to be just like me. “When parents teach children that setting boundaries or saying no is bad, they are teaching them that others can do with them as they wish. They are sending their children defenseless into a world that contains much evil. … To feel safe in an evil world, children need to have the power to say things like: ‘No,’ ‘I disagree,’ ‘I will not,’ ‘I choose not to,’ ‘Stop that,’ ‘It hurts,’ ‘It’s wrong,’ ‘That’s bad,’ ‘I don’t like it when you touch me there.’ Blocking a child’s ability to say no handicaps that child for life. Adults with handicaps … [don’t] say no to bad things” (Cloud & Townsend, 1992, p.50).

I remember a time in my parenting when I understood this better. My oldest was young, maybe one or two years old. A relative tried to coerce my son into giving them a hug and a kiss as we left their home, and he didn’t want to. The whole situation made me uncomfortable for several reasons: 1) I wanted this relative to feel close to and have a loving relationship with my son, 2) I wanted my son to love and feel close to this relative, and 3) I believed instinctively if a child were compelled to show affection to any adult they could become an easy target for a sexual predator in the future.

The scenario of the family member demanding the affection, my son throwing a fit and trying to get away, gave me such anxiety. Some moms are overprotective about germs, demanding that friends and family members sanitize their entire bodies before coming into contact with their child. Some moms are overprotective about physical danger, not allowing their child to even leave the house without a helmet and every square inch of their limbs Velcroed with padded gear. And then, some moms are overprotective about emotional danger caused by pedophiles and perverts, not allowing their child to have sleep-overs and giving the “good touch/bad touch” lesson on a weekly basis. That mom would be me. Sadly, I have virtually stolen the strongest protection I could have given my sons in this regard: the ability to say “no.”

In Proverbs 22:6 it reads: “Train up a child in the way he should go: and when he is old, he will not depart from it.”  However, according to Cloud & Townsend (1992), “Many parents misunderstand this passage. They think ‘the way he should go’ means ‘the way we, the parents think he (or she) should go.’ … The verse actually means ‘the way God has planned for him (or her) to go.’ In other words, good parenting isn’t emotionally bludgeoning the child into some clone or ideal of the perfect child. It’s being a partner in helping young ones discover what God intended for them to be and helping them reach that goal” (p.62-63).

The task of helping my boys discover God’s plan for them seems nearly impossible when I realize that I have no clue what God wants me to be. It reminds me of the time I helped coach a little league basketball team. A friend, and highly-skilled basketball player, had signed up to coach a little league boys’ basketball team. He realized, because of his work responsibilities, he wouldn’t be able to attend every practice or game, and asked if I would help coach. For anyone who knows me, this scenario is fairly comical, since I am one of the most uncoordinated, un-athletic people in the world (I trip over invisible lines). In fact, the likelihood that any of the ten-year-old boys I was coaching could beat me was virtually guaranteed. However, I was eager to help out my friend and hoped the saying, “Those who can’t do, teach,” would apply in a positive way.

In the end, my friend only made it to a few of the practices and games. My sister, who is only slightly less uncoordinated than I, helped me make sure we were following the rules and giving the kids equal playing time. Sadly, our team lost every game. It was rough. Some might say we were stacked with a group of unskilled and uncoordinated players. However, I prefer to blame the coach: me. While I had a basic knowledge of the rules of basketball (I had even played little league ball as a kid), knowledge of rules isn’t equivalent to having an understanding of skill development, comprehending offensive/defensive strategy, or realizing what natural talents each player possessed and helping to hone them. And, that’s exactly how I feel about helping my children through this journey of life.

Often, it seems I am coaching them alone, helping them to do the drills of praying, reading scriptures, going to church – the same drills I ran as a child – and they still might lose the game, either because I am too uncoordinated and inconsistent or because I lack crucial knowledge to help them be successful … Eventually, I realize I am not coaching them alone, because I have a myriad of family, friends, and church members helping me out. Moreover, I remember how blessed I am to have someone more knowledgeable than I who is really the one running the drills, sharing the rule book, and calling the plays.

One of my biggest boundary issues with my children is that I lack consistency, especially with my youngest. Cloud & Townsend (1992) would point out that when “parents combine strict and lax limits, [they are] sending conflicting messages to children. The children don’t know what the rules of family and life are” (p.80). I know I was much more consistent with my oldest children, but when number three came along and I didn’t grow a third arm, it seems I lost my ability to follow through. Consequences became either vague threats or inappropriately harsh. The poor boy doesn’t know when it’s safe to do anything, because, for example, sitting on the counter top is okay on one day and the next day it’s not. The “counter top” could be a metaphor for just about everything with this kid! “Good child rearing involves both preventive training and practice, and correctional consequences” (p.171). In other words, discipline. “The positive facets of discipline are proactivity, prevention, and instruction” (p.170).

“Discipline is an external boundary, designed to develop internal boundaries in our children. It provides a structure of safety until the child has enough structure in his character to not need it. Good discipline always moves the child toward more internal structure and more responsibility” (p.171).

Unfortunately for my boys, I have done little to teach them discipline; instead I have taught them to fear punishment. “Punishment is paying for wrongdoing. Legally, it’s paying a penalty for breaking the law. Punishment doesn’t leave a lot of room for practice, however. It’s not a great teacher. … Punishment does not leave much room for mistakes. … Discipline is not payment for a wrong. It’s the natural law of God: our actions reap consequences” (p.171, 172). It is time for me to determine the natural consequences involved with my sons' behavior and allow them to learn from their experiences where appropriate. It’s not like my kids are out killing people or burning down buildings and need punishment. However, we have our share of lying and hitting—both, which could easily be seen as punishable, but that will not teach them anything. I need to allow the consequences to teach.

Today in church, the women's lesson was about the joy of working hard. One mother talked about how they used the concept of service not only to reframe work or chores, but also in the process of forgiveness. For example, if one of her kids had hurt (emotionally, physically, or otherwise) a sibling, the sibling who had been hurt was encouraged to do a secret act of service for the offending child (such as make his/her bed, fold clothes, etc.). This softened the hearts of both children—but more so the child who had been offended. This approach reminded me of a former student talking about conflict in his home. His parents’ solution was to sit the two fighting children together on one step of the stairway, where they were made to either hug or hold hands. They were not allowed to leave the step until they had resolved the issue, and once it was resolved, they were to leave it at the stairs. He said at first they sat there for long periods of time, each refusing to work through the anger or frustration. Eventually, however, they learned to work through conflict quickly, communicating openly, and he said they always felt increased love for the other.

Now, I’m not so sure I would have performed well in either household—being the stubborn soul I am, I imagine if I were compelled to do service for my sister with whom I’d just gotten in a fight, I might plant a few forks under her bed covers. And, if I had to sit and "hug it out" with my brother, it’s likely we would have either sat there until we fell asleep or one of us ended up needing medical attention. Maybe I underestimate the power of these methods. I also imagine, if I were hugging it out with someone, it could quickly turn comedic, and laughter is good medicine no matter what the conflict.

But, back to boundaries (maybe I never left). Cloud & Townsend (1992) also point out that, “Boundaries are our way of protecting and safeguarding our souls. … And skills such as saying no, telling the truth, and maintaining physical distance need to be developed in the family structure to allow the child to take on the responsibility of self-protection” (p.173). When it comes to a child and his physical space (even his body), he needs to have to power to say “no” or “enough is enough.” How many times were we tickle-tortured as children, and truly it was torture, to the point of crying or, worse even, wetting our pants? I was tickled so much by “loving” uncles, aunts, cousins, and others that I am hardly ticklish anymore. When I was first married, my husband tried to tickle me and instead of eliciting a fun and playful response, he was met with anger, bordering on violence. When we had our own children, I was diligent about respecting my sons’ “no” when it came to tickling, often playing the referee and calling “time-out” on the tickler, making sure they realized my boys were no longer enjoying the game. However, just because I allowed my sons to say no in this instance, doesn’t mean I had taught them to really be responsible for themselves.

In Boundaries, the story of two boys, Jimmy and Paul, gave me as close to a crystal ball look into my sons’ future as I think I can get:

Jimmy’s family allowed disagreements between parent and child and gave him practice in the skill of boundary setting, even with them. … he could say no. This little word gave him a sense of power in his life. It took him out of a helpless or compliant position. … [he had] permission to disagree. … they never withdrew or punished him for disagreeing. Instead, they would listen to his reasoning, and, if it seemed appropriate, they would change their minds. If not, they would maintain their boundaries. Jimmy was also given a vote in some family matters. … He didn’t fear abandonment in standing up against his friends. He’d done it many times successfully with his family with no loss of love. (p.174-175)

 [Paul’s] mom would be hurt and withdraw and pout. She would send guilt messages. … to have his way, he had to be externally compliant. He developed a strong yes on the outside … Whatever he thought about a subject … he stuffed inside. … Day by day, Paul was being trained to not set limits. As a result of his learned boundarylessness, Paul seemed to be a content, respectful son. … Resentment and the years of not having boundaries were beginning to erode the compliant, easy-to-live-with false self he’d developed to survive. (p.175)

The word that stands out in Paul’s story is “seemed.” I don’t want my sons to “seem” to be content or respectful, I want them to truly be happy, to respect other’s opinions, but also to respect themselves enough to stand up for what they believe.

I have to get a handle on my own boundaries, so I can help my sons to be successful in setting their own, because “the second fruit of boundary development in our children [is]: the ability to take ownership of, or responsibility for, our own needs. God intends for us to know when we’re hungry, lonely, in trouble, overwhelmed, or in need of a break – and then to take initiative to get what we need” (p.176). I think I have trained my boys, especially my oldest, to be better at recognizing and accommodating the needs of others than recognizing their own needs. For example, my two youngest had expressed a desire to go hang out one afternoon with their dad. My oldest hadn’t said much, so I decided to figure out what he was thinking.

“Did you want to go with your dad, too?”

He nodded sheepishly, and cautiously said, “Yes.”

Concerned, I continued, “Then why didn’t you say you wanted to?”

“Because,” he explained, “I didn’t want you to be left all alone … really, it’s okay, Mom. I don’t need to go. I will just stay and hang out with you.”

I was filled with mixed emotions. First, I felt a great love because of the tenderness of my son, who was more concerned with his mom’s feelings than with himself. He wasn’t playing the martyr, he was sincere in his love and worry. Second, I felt intense guilt that I had betrayed him in some way, leading him to think he couldn’t do what he wanted because he had an obligation to me. Of course, I reassured him I would be fine and that he could go or stay; whatever he wanted. Ultimately, the outing with Dad didn’t happen, so the choice never had to be made.

“Our limits create spiritual and emotional space, a separateness, between ourselves and others. This allows our needs to be heard and understood. Without a solid sense of boundaries, it becomes difficult to filter out our needs from those of others. There is too much static in the relationship. When children can be taught to experience their own needs, as opposed to those of others, they have been given a genuine advantage in life. They are able to better avoid the burnout that comes from not taking care of one’s self. … The best thing a parent can do is to encourage verbal expression of those needs, even when they don’t ‘go with the family flow.’ When children have permission to ask for something that goes against the grain – even though they might not receive it – they develop a sense of what they need” (p.177).

I believe this “going against the grain” also includes emotions. Often, we tell our children they are not allowed to feel a certain way about something—maybe not directly, but we tell them to “stop crying, quit being a baby, not to get so upset, change the attitude, stop whining, calm down, mellow out, watch the tone, smile, laugh” … the list could probably fill an entire page. Just because we tell them to feel a certain way (positive or negative) doesn’t mean they do, and them pretending they do is only aiding their acting (and lying) skills. This is something I need to be better about; I need to allow my sons to feel however they feel about life, and then seek to understand why they feel that way.

So, why teach children boundaries? I think this question can be summed up with one quote: “Developing boundaries in young children is that proverbial ounce of prevention. If we teach responsibility, limit setting, and delay of gratification early on, the smoother our children’s later years of life will be. The later we start, the harder we and they have to work” (p.170).

And, ain’t that the truth? This is hard work.

Boundaries Part III: Setting Boundaries

I recently read that a successful woman does not "continually [dwell] on her past difficulties. You cannot allow your negative experiences to color the way you live your life today." I agree and disagree. All our past experiences are for our "profit and learning." I believe we are given or allowed to go through certain life experiences to teach us, and if we don't learn it the first time, I believe the lesson gets repeated and often more intensely until we do learn. Some of those lessons can be from positive experiences, but I think if we are sufficiently humbled and teachable profound learning can come from negative life events.

While it does little service to dwell on past experiences, it seems impossible to figure out where I need to go, without looking at where I've been. I hope those of you who are reading my blog do not believe I am mired in the muck of my former follies. Rather, this blog is an attempt to make conscious changes to my previous (and often destructive) way of thinking. I do not want to the problems in my past to perpetuate, therefore I must change my behaviors; but in order to change my behaviors, I must change my attitude; and in order to change my attitude, I must change my beliefs; and in order to change my beliefs, I must change the way I think; and to change the way I think, I need new information and a new internal dialogue. (Enter Mind Over Mood by Greenberger and Padesky [1995] … but more to come on that in future posts.)

One of the problem areas in my life I am on a quest to change is my blurry boundaries. According to Cloud and Townsend (1992), "The first step in establishing boundaries is becoming aware of old family patterns that you are still continuing in the present. Look at the struggles you are having with boundaries in your family of origin, identify which laws are being broken, and then pinpoint the resulting negative fruit in your life. ... Look at your own life situation and see where boundary problems exist with your parents and siblings. The basic question is this: Where have you lost control of your property? Identify those areas and see their connection with the family you grew up in, and you are on your way” (p.130, 133).

It is important I stop believing I am a victim of other's boundary issues and realize I am the problem. Cloud and Townsend (1992) remind us, “[we] do not act in inappropriate ways for no reason. [We] are often trying to meet some underlying need that [our] family of origin did not meet. Maybe we are still entangled because of a need to be loved, or approved of, or accepted. ... It is not enough to understand your need. You must get it met” (p.133). Sadly, in the past when the people I wanted to show this love, approval, and acceptance did not, I slipped into despair and I searched out self destructive sources to meet my needs.

This brings me back to the situation with my friend (See Boundaries Part I.): Should I have told her “yes” even when I believed I was not in a position to help her? Guaranteed, had I said “yes” I would have taken a sacrificial (not compassionate) position, and resented having to postpone my own plans in order to take care of her needs. In Bonds that Make Us Free, Warner (2001) proposes that “[taking] up a hard, resentful attitude toward others is to have to live in a resented world, a world full of people who oppose and threaten us. How they are in our eyes is reflective of how we are. The punishment for self-betrayal is having to live, in this resented world, a life that’s far more difficult than it needs to be” (p.53). Therefore, my resentment in giving an obligatory “yes,” causes me to suffer a more difficult life.

Warner (2001) also suggests “Self-betrayal occurs when we … do to another what we sense we should not do, or don’t do what we sense we should. … The personal obligations we feel to one another, soul to soul, call us to give of ourselves without reserve. Anything less … is self betrayal” (p.20, 22). Furthermore, “People who own their lives do not feel guilty when they make choices about where they are going. They take other people into consideration, but when they make choices for the wishes of others, they are choosing out of love, not guilt; to advance a good, not to avoid being bad” (Cloud and Townsend, 1992, p.124). Obviously, I had not taken the steps to own my life as I acted more out of guilt and out of not wanting to seem bad. So, how do I say “yes” out of willing compassion? How do I learn to say “no” in appropriate situations? How do I set boundaries that will keep me from betraying myself?

Cloud and Townsend (1992) propose that “establishing boundaries in thinking involves three things.

1. We must own our own thoughts. Many people have not taken ownership of their own thinking processes. They are mechanically thinking the thoughts of others without ever examining them. They swallow others’ opinions and reasonings, never questioning and ‘thinking about their thinking.’ …

2. We must grow in knowledge and expand our minds. …

3. We must clarify distorted thinking. We all have a tendency to not see things clearly, to think and perceive in distorted ways. Probably the easiest distortions to notice are in personal relationships. We rarely see people as they really are; our perceptions are distorted by past relationships and our own preconceptions of who we think they are, even the people we know best. (Matt. 7:3-5).

... Taking ownership of our thinking in relationships requires being active in checking out where we may be wrong. As we assimilate new information, our thinking adapts and grows closer to reality. Also we need to make sure that we are communicating our thoughts to others. … We have our own thoughts, and if we want others to know them, we must tell them” (p.45-46).

Throughout my life, I have passively avoided communicating my boundaries, choosing instead to ignore or retreat into obscurity. When I have tried to verbalize my boundaries, the other party usually pretended to understand, but continued to violate them. Perhaps I was not believable, or maybe as the strength of my fences were tested, they were found to be flimsy and full of holes. Regardless, I have not yet found a way to firmly convey the seriousness of these boundaries.

For example, I had a friend who grew to need my attention, affirmations, support, and communication more than was appropriate or possible to give. When I wasn't available, I was made to feel guilty, as if I were a terrible friend for abandoning them. Finally, when the situation had grown too destructive, I verbalized my boundaries, asking this friend to not contact me for awhile, with no guarantee of ever being able to communicate again as we had. Still, I received texts, phone calls, and emails of apology, filled with baited stories and attempts to draw me out of my retreat. My boundaries had been clearly verbalized, but they had not been respected. Cloud and Townsend (1992) admonish: “We need to respect the boundaries of others. We need to love the boundaries of others in order to command respect for our own. We need to treat their boundaries the way we want them to treat ours” (p.90). Perhaps, I was suffering from a little Boundary Karma.

At first, I found it difficult to reject the calls, ignore the texts, and refuse to respond to my friend’s emails. I realized I missed the interaction, the dependency, the feeling of being needed, loved, and important. Giving up a person who helped meet many of my emotional needs, regardless of how destructive the situation had been, was intensely painful. Often, the perceived loneliness was suffocating. However, with each email I ignored and each call I rejected, I became stronger and more determined to follow through with the boundaries I had set.

Cloud and Townsend (1992) remind me that “[I] own [my] boundaries. They don’t own [me]. If [I] set limits with someone, and she responds maturely and lovingly, [I] can renegotiate the boundary. In addition, [I] can change the boundary if [I am] in a safer place” (p.120). In this instance, my friend did not respond “maturely and lovingly,” and I do not believe I am in a safer place emotionally … yet; therefore, at this point, the boundary cannot be renegotiated. More importantly, in the process I realized the biggest boundary I needed to set was on myself, more than on my friend.

Learning to delay gratification, control appetites, or simply put aside our own desires (even those that may be good) which would not be wise to follow, will help us to strengthen our boundaries with others. “We need to have spaces inside ourselves where we can have a feeling, an impulse, or a desire, without acting it out. We need self-control, without repression. … We need to be able to say no to ourselves” (p.44). I believe if we can tell ourselves no, it will be much easier to tell others no.

However, Cloud and Townsend (1992) point out it is impossible to “start setting limits until you have entered into deep, abiding attachments with people who will love you no matter what. Our deepest need is to belong, to be in a relationship, to have a spiritual and emotional ‘home’” (p.64).

“When we are not secure that we are loved, we are forced to choose between two bad options: 1. We set limits and risk losing a relationship. … 2. We don’t set limits and remain a prisoner to the wishes of another” (p.64). And in my experience, both bad options bring emptiness, loneliness, and bitterness that drive away the Spirit and foster further insecurity.

In evaluating my own relationships, there are very few which I believe are “deep,” “abiding,” where I will be loved “no matter what.” Love is conditional. The only unconditional love comes from or through God and Christ. Love from any other source is conditional; for a person to say it is not conditional usually means they have not yet suffered from inappropriate, abusive, or extreme conditions; they lack experience and maturity. Love within those circumstances isn’t really love; instead it is fear of loss, built upon obsession, desperation, and insecurity.

Even a mother and her child share conditional love, though the threshold of aversive conditions may be much steeper in this close familial bond. But everyone has a breaking point; everyone has a line that when it is crossed, the supposed unconditional love takes off its blindfold and sees what is really going on. There are many more people whose intolerant threshold includes basic human idiosyncrasies—not only that, but their love is so conditional, that by not meeting all expectations you are denied all their love.

Again, the only unconditional love comes through God and Christ—in their perfection they love perfectly, without judgment, without jealousy, without expectation. This concept is eloquently described in The Continuous Atonement:

God is bound to love me. It is his nature to love perfectly and infinitely. He is bound to love me – not because I am good, but because He is good. Love is so central to his character that the scriptures actually say, ‘God is love” (1 John 4:8, 16; emphasis added). … Not only did He require me to have faith and confidence in Him, but He is required to have faith and confidence in me. … God and Jesus are bound to believe in me – in my potential and possibilities – even when I don’t. God is bound to be as close to me as He is to any of His children because He is a perfect parent. (Wilcox, 2009, p.132-133)

Therefore, when my needs of being loved, approved of, and accepted by certain people are not being met, “[I] must face this deficit and accept that it can only be met in [my] new family of God, those who are now [my] true ‘mother, father, brothers, and sisters,’ those who do God’s will and can love [me] the way he designed. God is willing to meet [my] needs through his people, but [I] must humble [myself], reach out to a good support system, and take in the good” (Cloud & Townsend, 1992, p.133).

Gratefully, I have eliminated or minimized most of the destructive and negative influences in my life (still working on my own negativity), and procured a few positive people to help meet my emotional needs. But, this process is far from over …

Boundaries Part 2.5: Letting Go ...

I think I should start collecting an advertising fee from Michael McLean, since I keep sharing his lyrics on my blog. His songs speak so directly to what I have been reading and writing about recently. In high school, after buying the books of his sheet music, I would gather with friends or family around a piano and sing them over and over. I miss that.


"Let It Go"
Words and music by John Batdorf and Michael McLean

(to purchase this song, click here)

I can still recall the hour
my father told me it was time
to let it go.
Though it's mended wing had made it sing
He said the bird I cared for was not really mine,
Let it go.

"Letting go," he said, "seems to break your heart.
Though it will heal it feels slow to start."
Though the pain burned within me so,
He held me tight so I could let it go.

Years have passed since then,
And so has he, but I still hear his words,
"Let it go."
There's so much of life that can't be lived
When you're still holding on to hate and anger deep inside.
Let it go.

Letting go opens up the heart.
There is a new day hungry to start.
You can't change what has hurt you so,
But you will heal if you can let it go.

All that's wrong in your life
Let it go.
All that is worth saving is love.
Love will hold you tight,
Love lifts the burden,
And love shines the light.
Only love nourishes us so;
If it's not love, simply let it go.

Boundaries Part II: Boundary Origination

Realizing I have dysfunctional boundaries in my relationships is only the first of many steps to building better boundaries. I must also reflect on why my boundaries have become so blurry. Cloud and Townsend (1992) propose “[your] family of origin has the power to affect [your] new family in a trickle-down effect” (p.124). Trickle-down doesn’t create pleasant imagery for me … I envision tears trickling down a devastated cheek, snot trickling down my son’s upper lip, or human waste trickling down the sewer line. I know, I’ve got a disturbed imagination. However, I think that for families with negative and problematic boundaries, those images are perfect – since this kind of crap runs in the genes (or jeans).

There are many different dysfunctional family boundaries or types of boundary problems that may permeate our relationships. In fact, the troubled attitudes we learn while growing up often continue into our adult associations, such as:

§  lack of consequences for irresponsible behavior

§  lack of confrontation

§  lack of limits

§  taking responsibility for others instead of yourself

§  giving out of compulsion and resentment, envy, passivity, and secrecy (Cloud & Townsend, 1992, p.131)

There are multiple boundary problems I can see continuing from my family of origin. I have nearly been married and living away from my family of origin as long as I lived within it. Regardless of time and distance, “These patterns are not new; they have just never been confronted and repented of. These patterns run deep. Your family members are the ones you learned to organize your life around, so they are able to send you back to old patterns by their very presence. You begin to act automatically out of memory instead of growth” (p.131).

It’s hard to say what a dysfunctional family is. Outsiders (and some insiders) might say my family was dysfunctional. Not knowing any better, I thought we functioned just fine. In retrospect, it seems there were some deep seated boundary issues that my parents both brought to the family function table and when those issues co-mingled they created new boundary issues.

There are many different types of dysfunctional family boundaries, but one boundary problem my family of origin and family of marriage both suffer from is triangulation. “It goes something like this: Person A is angry at Person B. Person A does not tell Person B. Person A calls Person C and gripes about Person B. Person C enjoys Person A’s confidence and listens whenever A wants to play the triangle game. By this time, Person B, feeling lonely, calls C, and, in passing, mentions the conflict with A. Person C becomes the confidant of B as well as A. Persons A and B have not resolved their conflict, and C has two ‘friends.’ Triangulation is the failure to resolve a conflict between two persons and pulling in of a third to take sides. This is a boundary problem because the third person has no business in the conflict, but is used for comfort and validation by the ones who are afraid to confront each other. This is how conflicts persist, people don’t change, and enemies are made unnecessarily” (p.127-128). So many hurt feelings and unresolved issues have continued year after year due to this boundary issue.

I have contributed to triangulation with various family members as both person A and C, something I now realize with much regret. I have also been an unwitting person B over the years, something I also realize with much disappointment. A couple of months ago, I discovered that two very close family members have spent countless hours venting to other family members, instead of speaking directly to me about their anger or hurt feelings. In one instance, over the last fifteen years, this became a situation of secrecy and, therefore, feigned affection. “What happens in the triangle is that people speak falsely, covering up their hatred with nice words and flattery” (p.128). To know that person C, whom I loved and trusted, was listening to gossip about me without ever asking my side of the story, has been intensely disheartening. To know that person A, whom I loved and trusted, was gossiping about me to other family members (and friends), passively refusing to discuss things directly with me, has compounded some of the most incredible personal pain I have had to bear.

In the second instance, family member C felt compelled to tell me the negative gossip family member A was saying about me, perhaps hoping that I would be driven to repair the damaged relationship I was not supposed to know about or simply to lift the burden being born by knowing unwanted information. “Gossip gets between people. It affects our opinions of the people being gossiped about … Many times what we hear from a third person is inaccurate” (p.128).

Finding out about both of these situations has made me take a hard look at these relationships. How I wish that person C in both cases would have told person A to stop talking about me to them. How I wish that person C in both cases would have told person A to talk to me instead. “A simple way to avoid triangulation is to always talk to the person with whom you have a conflict first. Work it out with her, and only if she denies the problem, talk to someone else to get insight about how to resolve it, not to gossip and to bleed off anger [or to receive validation]. Then you both go to talk to her together to try to solve the problem. Never say to a third party something about someone that you do not plan to say to the person himself” (p.129). I wish I had been given a chance to join the original conversation; perhaps a resolution could have been reached. Now, I will never know, and it seems these relationships are probably beyond repair.

However, identifying what my boundary issues are is still not enough; I must examine why I have failed to recognize and set appropriate personal boundaries for so long. For most, false motives keep us from setting boundaries. These false motives can come in the following attitudes:

1. Fear of loss of love, or abandonment. People who say yes and then resent saying yes fear losing someone’s love. This is the dominant motive of martyrs. …

2. Fear of others’ anger. Because of old hurts and poor boundaries, some people can’t stand for anyone to be mad at them.

3. Fear of loneliness. Some people give in to others because they feel that that will “win” love and end their loneliness.

4. Fear of losing the “good me” inside. … Many people cannot say, “I love you and I do not want to do that.” Such a statement does not make sense to them. They think that to love means to always say yes.

5. Guilt. Many people’s giving is motivated by guilt. They are trying to do enough good things to overcome the guilt inside and feel good about themselves. When they say no, they feel bad. So they keep trying to earn a sense of goodness.

6. Payback. Many people have received things with guilt messages attached. …

7. Approval. Many feel as if they are still children seeking parental approval. Therefore, when someone wants something from them, they need to give so that this symbolic parent will be “well pleased.”

8. Overidentification with the other’s loss. Many times people have not dealt with all their own disappointments and losses, so whenever they deprive someone else with a no, they “feel” the other person’s sadness to the nth degree. They can’t stand to hurt someone that badly, so they comply. (p.91-92)

At one time or another I have employed these false motives in justifying my blurred boundaries. Even now, I seek the approval of others. I have described myself as a puppy, who you can kick around, but as soon as you offer me a “good girl” or give me a metaphorical pat on the head I am right back at your heel, licking the foot that kicked me. That goes along with first three false motives, as well: Fear of loss of love, or abandonment, Fear of others’ anger, and Fear of loneliness. These are not reasons to compromise my self-worth or modify my integrity, yet I manage to make choices that look more like desperation than deliberation.

For some people, boundary issues can stem from tragic life experiences. These “specific traumas can injure boundary development. A trauma is an intensely painful emotional experience, rather than a character pattern. Emotional, physical, and sexual abuse are traumatic. Accidents and debilitating illnesses are traumatic. Severe losses such as the death of a parent, divorce, or extreme financial hardship are also traumatic. … A trauma can affect boundary development because it shakes up two necessary foundations to children’s growth: 1. The world is reasonably safe. 2. They have control over their lives. Children who undergo trauma feel these foundations shaken up. They become unsure that they are safe and protected in the world, and they become frightened that they have no say-so in any danger that approaches them” (p.80-81). While I have suffered minimally in regards to these traumas, I have seen the boundary devastation for friends and family members who have had such extremely tragic experiences. For them, my heart breaks, because to begin to mend these broken boundaries they have a steep road to travel.

Insomuch that their suffering has affected the relationship we share, I have found it difficult for me to find peace. I have become bitter toward those who were their abusers, seeking to blame and hoping for severe punishment. In fact, I recently posted a personal rant in this regard on my Facebook status. Sadly, in my attempt to vilify another, I became the villain. In seeing someone else as a monster, I became both ugly and monstrous. Didn't Christ teach us to love and forgive everyone? If those who suffered the abuse can forgive, why shouldn't I? For most people the concept of forgiveness is to pardon another their trespasses, to wave a debt which they are owed, or to even forget how they have been wronged. However, Warner (2001) would suggest "forgiveness consists not of forgetting what happened, but of repenting of unforgiving feelings about what happened, and if possible seek forgiveness" (p.296).

In the book Bonds that Make Us Free, Warner (2001) discusses his work with two women whose boundaries had been destroyed because of the sexual abuse they suffered as children, Ellie by her father and Margaret by her mother. Each woman struggled with the desire to forgive her parent, but had found little success in the attempt to pardon the abuser. Ultimately, Warner suggested that instead of trying to forgive the abuser, she should ask her parent for forgiveness. When I first read this, my brain did a double-take. What?! Why would the victim need to ask the perpetrator for forgiveness? He continued, explaining that each woman needed to be forgiven for the destructive and negative feelings each had felt toward her respective parent. So often we justify our negative emotions, we nurture them in ourselves and others, we tell people they have every right to be angry and disgusted. However, it was only through asking to be forgiven that both Ellie and Margaret found the peace for which they had been searching, it was only at this point that they were able to release the awful pain they had been clinging to for all those years (p.296-300).

"Some people think that forgiving abusers means minimizing the offense committed and letting them get away with it ... This isn't true. Abusers suffer quite independently of being resented. They harbor wretched, hateful feelings, and if they one day admit to what they've done, they will also suffer exquisite guilt and sorrow. Our resentment cannot increase their torment; it harms only ourselves" (Warner, 2001, p.301). I can see how the saying that not forgiving is like drinking a poison and hoping for someone else to die. The negative emotions we wrap around our injuries (perceived or real) only insulate us from the healing peace of letting go.

And, letting go -- of hurts, disappointments, mistakes, and negative boundaries of origin -- will help free us to form healthier, more functional boundaries in the future.

Brene Brown: The power of vulnerability

"Brene Brown studies human connection -- our ability to empathize, belong, love. In a poignant, funny talk at TEDxHouston, she shares a deep insight from her research, one that sent her on a personal quest to know herself as well as to understand humanity."

Can I help?

Last night, on my way to teach a night class at a local university, I stopped by a drinking fountain to refill my water bottle. I had my reminiscent-of-a-diaper-bag purse hanging from one shoulder, my binder of teaching materials bundled in my other arm, my cell phone clenched between my ear and shoulder, and my hip pushing against the dispenser button, as I leaned and stooped to avoid dropping both my purse and my phone. Strategically, I held the water bottle at the precise angle, hoping to catch at least half of the water spraying in its direction. The call had ended; still I was stuck in the position.

From my left, I heard, “Can I help?”

I couldn’t even turn to see who had said it, for fear of dropping my phone, though the voice was decidedly female. For a nanosecond I looked at everything I was simultaneously holding and doing. I thought of handing her my binder or setting down my purse. Then, I glanced at my water bottle, which was nearly as full as I could get it, at least at the awkward angle. “What was the point?” I figured.

“Oh, gosh, no, I’ve got it.” I straightened my body, but my head was still pressed against the cell phone on my shoulder.

“Are you sure?” she queried, walking slowly toward me.

I tightened the lid on the bottle, let the phone drop from my shoulder to my hand, and slipped it into my coat pocket.

“No, I’m good. Thanks for offering though.” I smiled, realizing I must have looked like I was in a circus balancing act, about to lose my grip on everything.

And, then it struck me. Over the past few days, I had received texts and phone calls from at least eight different people, co-workers, friends, neighbors, church members, and family who had asked almost the same thing: “What can I do to help?” Undoubtedly, to them I must look like I am in a circus balancing act, about to lose my grip on everything. And, I probably am.

It’s not that I don’t need help, it’s not that I don’t want help, it’s just that when I’m in the middle of my juggling act, I’m not sure what to hand over to someone else or I think I can just deal with it. I am definitely not good at accepting help and I’m even less good at asking for it. Intellectually, I know that having help does not mean I am incapable or weak, but I don’t want to be a burden to anyone or to have people feel sorry for me.

In Boundaries, Cloud and Townsend (1992) state: “Many times others have ‘burdens’ that are too big to bear. They do not have enough strength, resources, or knowledge to carry the load, and they need help. Denying ourselves to do for others what they cannot do for themselves is showing the sacrificial love of Christ. … On the other hand … everyone has responsibilities that only he or she can carry. These things are our own particular ‘load’ that we need to take daily responsibility for and work out. No one can do certain things for us” (p.30).

Cloud and Townsend (1992) clarify this concept further, by differentiating between the terms burden and load:

The Greek word for burden means “excess burdens,” or burdens that are so heavy that they weigh us down. These burdens are like boulders. … We need help with the boulders—those times of crisis and tragedy in our lives. In contrast, the Greek word for load means “cargo,” or “the burden of daily toil.” This word describes the everyday things we all need to do. These loads are like knapsacks. Knapsacks are possible to carry. We are expected to carry our own. We are expected to deal with our own feelings, attitudes, and behaviors, as well as the responsibilities God has given to each one of us, even thought it takes effort. Problems arise when people act as if their “boulders” are daily loads, and refuse help, or as if their “daily loads” are boulders they shouldn’t have to carry. The results of these two instances are either perpetual pain or irresponsibility. (p.30-31)

I know I am the only one who can make my decisions, feel my pain, learn from my life experiences, and ultimately find joy. Does that mean I cannot allow a friend to lift my spirits, provide me food for thought and food for my family, or offer me comfort? No. However, when I am in the process of trying to carry a crushing boulder, it is difficult for me to know what I need to do, let alone tell others how they can help.

My patent answer lately is, “Just pray.” Who couldn’t use a few extra pleas to God on their behalf? And I certainly have felt the sustaining power of those who have prayed, asked others to pray, and meditated for my family and for me.

A couple of days ago, the boulder I carry was nearly unbearable, and as I sat at my desk during my preparation period the disillusionment and depression became more than I could stand. I began to sob. Another teacher happened to walk in to check on me and, seeing my distress, took action to gather a team of “boulder bearers.” Within minutes, she had arranged for several colleagues to teach my remaining classes and ordered me, as sweetly as she could, to “go home.” That evening, with the contributions from another friend, she provided dinner for my family and sat with me for an hour, laughing and chatting about politics and Facebook foibles.

This was one of several recent supportive arms, reaching to help me carry my burdens. How blessed I am to be surrounded by loving and supportive people. Perhaps, the miracle I have been praying for has instead come in the form of an angelic army of loyal loved ones.

Galatians 6:2 Bear ye one another’s burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ.

Boundaries Part 1.5: Which Part Is Mine?

Another song has been haunting me as I read and study the concept of boundaries. It speaks so much to how I feel and the struggles I have faced. I thought I would share: sharing is caring.  

"Which Part Is Mine?"
words and music by Michael McLean

from Tender Mercies
(to purchase or listen to a sample of this song, click here)

She was only a dairy man's daughter,
she was only a child of thirteen;
but the stars on the radio brightened her nights with a dream.
So she called up her best girlfriend Jenny
'cause she thought they would make quite a pair,
She said, "Let's you and me, try to sing harmony
at the amateur night at the fair."

But she only had the range of an alto,
so the part she knew best went to her friend.
And when Jenny's soprano drowned out the piano
they'd have to start over again.
And the dairyman's daughter would then say,

"Which part is mine?
and Jen, which part is yours?
Could you tell me one more time;
I'm never quite sure.

And I won't cross the line
like I have before.
So please help me learn which part is mine,
and which part is yours."

She grew up and got married to Bobby
kept him working on his MBA
they had two little redheaded children,
and one on the way.

Everybody said she could work wonders,
and she wondered what everyone meant.
She played so many roles, it was taking its toll
and she feared that her time was misspent.

So she opened her heart to her husband.
They discussed everything on her list.
from the kids, to the job,
to her feelings for her Bob.
But what it really boiled down to was this: She said:

"Which part is mine?
and Bob, which part is yours?
Let's review it one more time;
I guess I'm not sure.

And I won't cross the line
like I have before
if we just define which part is mine,
and which part is yours."

Every sleepless night knows many mothers
who are wond'ring if they have done alright.
And the dairyman's daughter knew
more than a few of those nights.

Had she given her son too much freedom?
Had she smothered her two teenage girls?
Did she spoil them too much or not trust them enough
to prepare them for life in this world?

So she opened her heart to the heavens
and she spoke of her children by name.
And the prayer that she prayed
that her kids would be saved had a very familiar refrain.

Which part is mine?
And God, which part is yours?
Could you tell me one more time,
I'm never quite sure.

And I won't cross the line
like I have before.
But it gets so confusing some times.
Should I do more, or trust the divine?
Please, just help me define which part's mine,
and which part is yours.

Did you hear me?
I can feel you near me.
It is the answer
that I've been longing for;

just to know you hear me,
and to feel you near me.
It's all the answer
that I've been longing for.

Did you hear me?
I can feel you near me.
It is the answer
that I've been longing for;

just to know you hear me,
       after I've done my best,
and to feel you near me.
       I know you'll do the rest.
It is the answer that I've been longing for!

* * * * * * * * * *

Truly, that is what I have been longing for also: to know He hears my pleadings, to feel His comforting spirit and love, to know that after I've done all I can and should do He will take care of the deficit. I'm getting there ... "baby steps."

Boundaries Part I: My Broken Boundaries

Admittedly, telling people, “no” is a skill I have not yet mastered. I have no problem telling my children “no,” but even my youngest has learned that no usually means maybe and maybe generally means yes. Even when I do tell people “no” I struggle with unbearable feelings of guilt.

I recently told a friend I could not help her out with a situation. She said she understood, but proceeded to post on Facebook that she was frustrated that no one ever returned favors, and then she conveniently couldn’t attend an event in my home that evening. I felt horrible and knew I needed to reciprocate the favors she had done for my family in the past, but, despite the guilt and obligatory attitude, I couldn’t compel myself to give up my one day off, cancel the plans I had made, especially when I was going through a particularly devastating personal crisis (which she knew about). Her reaction and public passive-aggressive retaliation hurt, and I had to fight the feelings of frustration, anger, and how-dare-she-ness.

Had I betrayed myself in reacting defensively to her hurt feelings? Probably. Had I betrayed myself when I hadn’t agreed to help her out, justifying myself with a myriad of excuses? Perhaps. Am I acting no better than she did by posting about this on my blog? Possibly.

Considering this situation (and several other recent relationship issues), the following questions come to my mind: Why should I have to make excuses for saying “no,” why should I do things only out of obligation, why should I feel guilty when I have valid reasons to say “no,” and from where did this fear of saying “no” originate?

In the book, Boundaries: When to Say YES, When to Say NO, To Take Control of Your Life, Cloud and Townsend (1992) posit, “The most basic boundary-setting word is no. It lets others know that you exist apart from them and that you are in control of you. … No is a confrontational word. … we are to confront people we love, saying, ‘No, that behavior is not okay. I will not participate in that.’ The word no is also important in setting limits on abuse” (p.34). So, it stands to reason that if I have difficultly saying “the most basic boundary-setting word,” then I do not have boundaries or, at best, I have very weak boundaries.

“Words [such as ‘no’] let people know where you stand and thus give them a sense of the ‘edges’ that help identify you. … [It sends] a clear message about how you conduct relationships and lets them know the ‘rules’ of your yard” (Cloud & Townsend, 1992, p.35). However, if I do not know how I want to conduct relationships, if I simply imitate the models of my childhood, or if I have not set the rules of my yard, I cannot send a clear message, and the “edges” of my identity are blurred.

Cloud and Townsend (1992) call this type of boundary conflict compliance. “Compliant people have fuzzy and indistinct boundaries; they ‘melt’ into the demands and needs of other people. They can’t stand alone, distinct from people who want something from them. … Compliants are chameleons. ... The inability to say no to the bad is pervasive. Not only does it keep us from refusing evil in our lives, it often keeps us from recognizing evil. Many compliant people realize too late that they’re in a dangerous or abusive relationship” (p.50-51).

But why do I (and so many others) struggle with telling people “no”?

Fear.

Fear of hurting the other person’s feelings,

Fear of abandonment and separateness,

A wish to be totally dependent on another,

Fear of someone else’s anger,

Fear of punishment,

Fear of being shamed,

Fear of being seen as bad or selfish,

Fear of being seen as unspiritual,

Fear of one’s overstrict, critical conscience.

“… This last fear is actually experienced as guilt. … When we give in to guilty feelings, we are complying with a harsh conscience. This fear of disobeying the harsh conscience translates into the inability to confront others … God wants us to be compliant from the inside out (compassionate), not compliant on the outside and resentful on the inside (sacrificial). Compliants take on too many responsibilities and set too few boundaries, not by choice, but because they are afraid” (Cloud & Townsend, 1992, p.51).

“Because of these fears, we try to have secret boundaries. We withdraw passively and quietly, instead of communicating an honest no to someone we love. We secretly resent instead of telling someone that we are angry ... Often, we will privately endure the pain of someone’s irresponsibility instead of telling them how their behavior affects us and other loved ones, information that would be helpful to their soul. … If our boundaries are not communicated and exposed directly, they will be communicated indirectly or through manipulation” (p.101).

So, motivated by fear and guilt, I spend much of my life saying “yes” externally, but feeling “no” internally, and the act, then, becomes either a sacrifice (rather than willing compassion) or, worse, an allowance of negative and evil to invade my life. Unfortunately, “an internal no nullifies an external yes. God is more concerned with our hearts than he is with our outward compliance … In other words, if we say yes to God or anyone else when we really mean no, we move into a position of compliance. And that is the same as lying. Our lips say yes, but our hearts (and often our half-hearted actions) say no” (p.106).

Herein lies the paradox: I chronically fail to say “no” to those who bring negativity and destruction into my life, I regularly say "no" to those who desire to bring positivity and support into my life, I often say “yes” to people out of fear and then resent, and when I try to take control of my life and tell people “no” in appropriate circumstances I suffer from guilt and have to rationalize and justify my choice to actually set boundaries.

However, as Cloud and Townsend (1992) point out, “if we can’t say no, we can’t say yes. Why is this? It has to do with our motivation to obey, to love, or to be responsible. We must always say yes out of a heart of love. When our motive is fear, we love not” (p.106). Again, this goes back to the idea of self-betrayal and living a lie. If I am unable to give an honest “no,” then my “yes” can never be believed or trusted.

Part of me needs to fully realize the truthfulness in the statement, “The only person you have control over is yourself.” Part of my fear in telling people “no” is the fear of how they may react. My friend’s reaction to my “no” only solidified this fear for me. However, “God never gave us the power or the right to control how others respond to our no. Some will welcome it; some will hate it” (Cloud & Townsend, 1992, p.107). It seems those who hate my “no” the most are those who either lack boundaries themselves or who have little respect for others’ boundaries.

Therefore, “boundaries are a ‘litmus test’ for the quality of our relationships. Those people in our lives who can respect our boundaries will love our wills, our opinions, our separateness. Those who can’t respect our boundaries are telling us that they don’t love our no. They only love our yes, our compliance” (p.108). Cloud and Townsend (1992) suggest we try their “litmus test experiment” with our significant relationships, by actually building a boundary and telling them “no” in some appropriate area, saying we will “either come out with increased intimacy – or learn that there was very little to begin with” (p.108).

I found this “litmus test” to be true recently in a newly forming friendship. In the past, especially during the developing phase of a relationship, I would systematically say “yes” out of fear of rejection or not being liked. One morning, my new friend texted me and asked if I could do her a favor. She put no pressure on me, saying that if I couldn’t help, it was perfectly fine. The problem is she didn’t need to put any pressure on me, because I already put enough on myself for the both of us. I thought for a few minutes about what to do. Everything in me wanted to say “yes,” but I was in no position emotionally or spiritually to help her. Listening to my heart and not my fear, I told her I would love to help her, but I could not. I gave no excuse; she did not demand one. She only showed forth more compassion and empathy. Suddenly, I realized what it meant to have an honest friend, void of fear and feigned affection.

In so doing, I discovered what Cloud and Townsend describe as “the path to real love: [to] communicate your boundaries openly” (p.102).

My Boundary Goals:

• Stop saying "yes" out of obligation and fear.
• Stop saying "yes" to those who bring negativity and destructive behaviors into my life.
• Be direct and firm about my boundaries (as opposed to avoidant and mute).
• Start saying "no" without excuse or explanation or guilt.
• Start saying "yes" to those who offer me unconditional love, honesty, loyalty, and support.

Transformation

It’s not a stretch to say that Maxwell Maltz is the forefather of the self-help phenomenon. In 1960, he wrote Psycho-Cybernetics, where he discussed the mind-body connection and the attainment of goals. As a plastic surgeon, Maltz noticed that it took 21 days for amputees to stop feeling phantom pains and sensations from their missing limb. Eventually, he discovered this 21-day time frame was crucial for the brain to begin accepting new information and create new neuroconnections, the same process and time frame important for us to accept change (or at least to stop resisting change) in our lives ("Change of Habit").

If it takes 21 consecutive days for our brains to stop resisting change, how long does it take to actually effect change in our lives? According to several self-help websites, it takes 40 days to change a bad behavior, habit, or attitude into a good one (or to start a new behavior altogether), 90 days for that positive or new behavior to become a pattern in your life, 120 days for the behavior to become synonymous with who you are, and 1,000 days to master and refine this behavior (“Change of Habit”).

I think getting past the first 21 days is often the hardest. If someone truly wants to make a change in her life, she has several choices: resist the change, force the change, or “… get out the way” (tips her hat to Ludacris) because change is acomin’, like it or not.

I find it funny (sad and strange funny, not knee-slapping funny) that so many of us have desired change in our lives and almost pretended to try, for a few days, even a couple of weeks, but the inconsistency and lack of determination became symptoms of resistance. According to a popular yoga website, some of the signs of resistance are: “Complaining, gossiping, over-sleeping, an increase in bad habits like watching TV for too long or drinking alcohol, blaming, repeating the same conversations or story, recurring mistakes, use of generalized words like 'always' or 'never', and drama” (“Resist-change”).

I have made major changes in my life recently, some of which I have done well to make it past the 21 days, and others for which I have had to reset the 21-day clock multiple times. Despite the slippage, the phrase, “two steps forward, one step back” points out I am making progress … one step at a time.

One thing I have noticed, during the 21 days phase, is the initial enthusiasm (for most of the changes) provided the momentum to start. For other changes, I was dreading the process and. instead of enthusiasm. I had anger and frustration; however, this emotional energy also provided momentum.

When I was young, our half acre garden consisted entirely of rows and rows of corn (have you seen Children of  the Corn? Yeah, another story for another day). Every few days, my dad would wake us girls fairly early, as to avoid the summer heat, and tell us to “Get out there and hoe a row.” Begrudgingly, I would drag my sleepy body to the yellow shed out back, and grab a garden hoe. By the time I had finished yawning, the frustration had set in. Why can’t I sleep a few more hours? It’s summertime! Why do I have to work in the garden? I don’t even like corn! Ugh! I didn’t even want this stupid garden anyway! If he wants it, he should weed it! The diatribe flooded my mind like the muddy water rushing down the irrigation ditch alongside the field. By the time I found my way to my “row” I as fuming. Shaped out of selfishness and fostered by immaturity, my anger fueled my body, making me much faster at completing the chore. Even 20 years later, that same negative emotion has the powerful potential to propel me toward the end of whatever “row” I may have to “hoe.”

While getting past the resistance phase is important, the most rewarding phase is making it to the end of 40 days. The 40 days speaks success to me for several reasons, not simply because it is nearly double the initial 21 days, but because 40 is such a spiritually significant number.

There is instance after instance in the Bible where God provides opportunity for important changes in His people during a 40-day period (or 40 years, if they don’t quite get it, cough, the Israelites, cough).

When I think about Noah and the cleansing process during the 40 days and nights of rain (Gen 7:12), I think about my own life and the cleansing process I am going through as I implement changes during these 40 days.

When I think about Noah waiting 40 days to open the window of the Ark (Gen 8:6), I think of the figurative windows in my life that will be opened through this 40 day process.

When I think of the Egyptian embalming ritual, which takes 40 days to prepare the body for the afterlife (Gen 50:3), I think of these 40 days as preparation for my new life.

When I think of Moses on the mountain with God for 40 days (Exo 24:18, Exo 34:28-29, Deu 10:10), I think of myself praying, reading my scriptures, and communing with God during these 40 days, hopefully to come down from my mountain with more knowledge and peace.

When I think of Jonah warning the people of Nineveh they had 40 days to repent and be spared (Jonah 3:4 and 10), I think of myself repenting of my many flaws and making changes so that God will spare me and my family further sadness or pain.

And, when I think of Christ fasting for 40 days in the wilderness, while enduring Satan’s repeated temptations (Mat 3:17, Mat 4:1-2), I think of the temptations I have and will have to face during this process of giving up my bad habits, and the peace I will find because of 40 days of unwavering obedience.

As many of us are starting 2011 with New Year’s Resolutions, trying to break bad habits, begin new habits, or change our lives in some way, I want to challenge you (and myself) to do whatever it takes to make it through 21 consecutive days. Once we make it through the resisting phase, we can reset the goal to make it another 19 days to hit the 40 day mark, and by so doing we will find we have begun to transform our lives.

Websites Referenced:
http://www.kalavati.org/change-of-habit.html
http://www.kalavati.org/resist-change.html