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.