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 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.

Of Infinite Worth

I was recently asked by a friend why women, specifically women of my faith, seem to have such a horrible self esteem. Especially when, throughout our teen years, active female members of my church recite a weekly “theme,” which includes stating our divine heritage and the values we embrace: “We are daughters of our Heavenly Father, who loves us …” We sing songs with phrases that reiterate this inherent worth: “I am a child of God,” “For I am of worth, of infinite worth,” “My nature is divine,” etc. However, as my friend pointed out, many faithful women seem to be depressed or decidedly dysfunctional when it comes to actually believing they are of worth.

This got me thinking. Living in Utah, there are a couple of facts, which people erroneously link as causal chains. Fact: Utah has the highest per capita use of anti-depressants in the U.S. and primarily those prescriptions are written to women. Fact: Utah has the highest population of Latter-Day Saints in the nation.

Now, I have heard, and even passed on, the logical fallacy that Mormons, specifically Mormon women, are more depressed than their non-LDS counterparts. This hasty generalization was one I actually bought into. Being an LDS woman in Utah, I have witnessed a number of my friends and relatives use anti-depressants at different times in their lives. I personally have never taken them. I don’t really believe in them for me, at least not at this point.

Don’t worry, I’m not going to go all “Tom Cruise” and say that “it’s all in your head.” Especially after reading The Female Brain (2006) and The Male Brain (2010) (and you all understand what I mean when I say “reading” … if not, check out my post “Taking the First Step”), I know there are chemical issues brewing in the brain that are completely out of a person’s control. I also believe there are times and circumstances in a person’s life that warrant the extra “life vest” to keep her from drowning.

I may have suffered (or am currently suffering) from both issues, however I have chosen to not take medication for the same reason I choose to not fester in anger. Taking medication is a very personal choice. I am no doctor (though my husband tells me I think I’m one), so I do not recommend you forgoing or ceasing medical treatment. And for those who use anti-depressants to help with anxiety, OCD-related tendencies, or chronic illness, more power to you and thank God for modern medicine!

For me, anger and anti-depressants are the same as alcohol. They are emotion numbing; they divert a person from actually dealing with life. When you stop being angry, stop using anti-depressants, or stop drinking alcohol (or any other numbing behavior), the real, raw, authentic emotion is still there, just waiting to be dealt with. The life situation may be over, but the working through it still must be done. I’d rather deal with it now; take my lumps as they come, rather than wait for months, prolonging the pain I will eventually and undoubtedly feel.

So, if this correlation isn’t causal, what can explain it? I’m no scientist, but I have a few theories (some of which I have borrowed from friends and colleagues). First, it’s important to look at another set of facts which could explain the high incidence of anti-depressant use in Utah. Fact: Utah has one of the lowest unemployment rates in the nation. Fact: Utah has one of the highest education rates in the nation. So what? Well, with education come increased employment opportunities. Better employment often includes enhanced insurance benefits. People who are insured are more likely to seek medical attention, even mental health providers. Along with this increased education also comes an awareness of the symptoms of depression and a willingness to seek help. Fact: Additionally, among practicing Latter-Day Saints, there is a lack of alcohol or illegal substance use or abuse; both of which may be used by people in neighboring states for self-medicating purposes.  It’s also interesting to point out that the states ranked just below Utah for anti-depressant use were Oregon and Maine, neither of which have the high concentration of LDS members, such as can be found in Arizona or Idaho.

Okay, so are we talking urban legend stuff here? If there is no direct connection between depression and being a woman in the LDS faith, what is the answer to my friend’s question?

I have a couple of ideas (more like germinating seeds of ideas, with barely a sprout showing, so take them for what they’re worth).

In the LDS culture, we have our own urban legends, which are passed down from Sunday School teacher, to Young Women adviser, to Primary teacher, to Relief Society teacher, like folk tales around the camp fire. One in particular, which I think perpetuates LDS women feeling extreme pressure to be perfect is this: “Men are given the priesthood so they can actually be as good as women. Women don’t need the priesthood, because they are already so amazing.” Frankly, I think this was made up by some stupid man, trying to make women feel better about not being priesthood holders (a responsibility I am actually grateful to forego). However, what he successfully accomplished was making LDS women neurotically obsessed with having to be amazing, as if we didn’t put enough pressure on ourselves already. Suddenly, this obsession becomes a little too real when you look around the room and think you might actually be surrounded by a bunch of Stepford wives!

That fear quickly dissolves once you take the time to get to know any of these women personally. Each has their own pain, their own insecurities, their own troubled relationships, their own flaws, their own dark moments, their own trials of faith … they are not so different from me or from you.

In this same vein, I remember receiving (and giving) many a lesson about chastity, where it was my responsibility as a young LDS woman to keep chaste any young man I dated. The subliminal message (or sometimes spoken message) was that young men could not be expected or required to control their sexual urges. Instead, young women, who were erroneously purported to have ultimate control over their own urges and over young men, were put under intense pressure to ensure both parties stayed virtuous. Can you say, “Pre-ssure?”

This attitude was again reflected in personal interviews with church leadership, in order to obtain entrance into the church’s most sacred place of worship: the temple. I recall teasing the boys my age about them being asked by the church leader if they masturbated (an activity that is discouraged if one is to maintain personal virtue). However, not once was I ever asked if I masturbated. I think the assumption was (and you know what they say about assuming) girls do not have morality issues such as this. Again, the supposition that women are inherently moral placed increased pressure on us to be perfect or worse even, to feel absolutely abominable if we had succumbed to any of these temptations.  

Another church practice and cultural attitude, is the keeping personal instances of sin private. “Do not share past transgressions.” Wasn’t every full-time missionary taught that? I’m not saying I don’t agree with that policy. There is wisdom in this advice that protects both the party who is repenting and those who are watching for weaknesses. Neither person can benefit in a public flogging or scarlet branding, where there isn’t proper humility and repentance and unconditional forgiveness and support. However, what happens, then, is new converts or innocent youths believe that everyone in the church is perfect and those who are not perfect are not in the church. (Maybe I’m the only one who thought this.) The shame and devastation that comes when this new convert or youth slips up is near tragic … how can they ever feel good about themselves again, when they are surrounded by everyone else who is perfect and never made mistakes?

Again, that shame and loneliness quickly dissolves once you learn just how many of your friends and family members have suffered in similar ways and found their way back into full fellowship. But those conversations are guarded, often shared only to help someone find hope when they are about to dive over the edge of despair.

Perhaps there is also some wisdom to the Mennonite practice of announcing one’s flaws or sins over the pulpit and publicly asking for forgiveness, but I am not so sure the members of the LDS faith are as forgiving as a whole as their Mennonite friends. We are taught not to judge others, but we do, and then we judge ourselves even more harshly.

I think that realizing that no one is perfect (and for a perfectionist, that is a hard concept to internalize) is the first step to accepting and loving yourself; and a baby step toward fostering a positive self esteem.

The next, and most important step, is to create self worth, by living worthy of the self (that is, not betraying oneself). A friend discussed with me this realization, “I complimented and praised my children, trying to build their self esteem. But I realized, I cannot give my child her self esteem. She has to earn it.” To earn self worth, a person has to realize she is capable of making her own decisions, has power over her own life, and able to solve problems for herself.

Powerlessness and victimhood (perceived or real) are the most devastating destroyers of self esteem. Perhaps, in the masculine LDS culture, we are raising women to play the victim role or perform exact obedience to inappropriate priesthood authority, specifically to their husbands. The church doctrine does not teach these practices, as I have heard many talks by church leaders on the concept of “unrighteous dominion” and the punishment that awaits the man who does so. Sadly, there are still many LDS women, who cleave to their husband despite cruelty and abuse (powerlessness and victimhood). And, ironically, there are many more LDS women, who follow their husband in a self-sacrificing and begrudging attitude, all in the name of his authority (perceived powerlessness and perceived victimhood).

Before I scare all of my LDS friends and have them running away screaming, “Blasphemer!” I want to be clear, I am not a Mormon feminist (not that there’s anything wrong with being one, I’m just much too apathetic to join a cause). Nor am I angry or disillusioned by the Mormon culture to which I belong; I actually find it to be fascinating and at times humorous. Rather, I am an introspective, deep-thinking woman who, while I am imperfect in my practice, believes strongly in the gospel of Christ and the doctrine taught in my religion (which most Mormon feminists do, by the way).  And, because a friend asked, I am trying to make sense of my own self esteem issues from my religious perspective and upbringing.

Please feel free to share your ideas on the topic, as well as point out any flaws in my theories or fallacies in my logic.

For further information on anti-depressant use in Utah: http://www.deseretnews.com/article/640196840/Why-high-antidepressant-use-in-Utah.html?pg=2

For further information on building self esteem in children: http://blog.positivediscipline.com/2008/05/you-cant-give-your-children-self-esteem.html

For further information on Mormon feminism:

http://www.ldswave.org/

For further information on the LDS perspective on chastity:
http://lds.org/manual/for-the-strength-of-youth-fulfilling-our-duty-to-god/sexual-purity?lang=eng

Facebook and the Façade

Every week day, on my way to take my youngest son to his babysitter, I drive past the First Baptist Church of Roy. In front of the church is a large marquee, where presumably the pastor posts a special message for the congregation and passers-by. A couple of months ago, the marquee read, “Get off Facebook and get into My book.” I smiled, amused by the creative pun, but my amusement soon turned to chagrin.

While I rarely log into Facebook from my home computer, I do spend an unnecessary amount of time, usually during random moments of boredom, snooping around status updates and posted photos via my cell phone. I am past playing games or taking quizzes, though I did my fair share of both when novelty negated reason. In the past, I have joked that I needed help cutting back and should probably spearhead a FA group. Despite the fact that Facebook is both a time- and brain-drain, it has been a positive way to reconnect with former childhood friends, lost contacts from college, special students who have graduated, and even keep up with kin, as we all move about our lives across the country. It’s been a teaching tool for my high school students, as well as a way to deliver important family messages about events, both tragic and tender.

According to the Facebook Pressroom, the average user has 130 friends. However, the average user may not be a high school teacher, having taught approximately 200 students annually for nearly thirteen years. The average user may not have a prolific and well-connected extended family. The average user may not be active in a religious organization or several statewide service organizations. The average user may not have grown up in a small town and know, by name, his/her entire graduating class. Therefore, I am not the average user, and I currently have 689 friends, all of whom I know personally (to varying degrees). This is not to say I am popular, but that I have had many opportunities in my life to meet many new people, most of whom I connect with and like. However, this number is down by two since Wednesday – I am not even sure yet who unfriended me, and it’s possible whoever it was simply deactivated his/her account altogether. And, it’s even more possible, they simply unfriended me.

Over the years I have had multiple Facebook friends, some former students, but mostly people from my hometown, unfriend me. They never say why they leave, at least not to me (though I do hear rumblings and rumors). No doubt, there have been “friends” I have unwittingly offended over Facebook, with my random, annoying, and off-color updates. Perhaps there are others who realized we weren’t that close to begin with, so why pretend to be friends in Cyberspace. I wish they would send me a message or post on my wall, “Hey, your excessive status updates were irritating. Peace out,” or “I’m cutting back on my so-called friends and since you never comment on what I post I guess it won’t be a big loss to you,” or “I just friend requested you to spy into your life and see if you were miserable, and now that I have looked through all your photos and info, I’m done.” Since there is no notification, and because I have nearly seven hundred friends, it usually takes me awhile to notice the person is gone from my list. I do notice, eventually.  Once, I went so far as to ask a “friend” why she had unfriended me, but never got a response. I suppose the answer didn’t matter.

Unfriending could be the simplest and quickest form of setting personal cyber boundaries. “Two aspects of limits stand out when it comes to creating better boundaries. The first is setting limits on others. … In reality, setting limits on others is a misnomer. We can’t do that. What we can do is set limits on our own exposure to people who are behaving poorly; we can’t change them or make them behave right. … God sets standards, but he lets people be who they are and then separates himself from them when they misbehave, saying in effect, ‘You can be that way if you choose, but you cannot come into my house’” (Cloud and Townsend, 1995, p.44).

There have been a few times I have unfriended people. I’m usually too afraid of hurting someone else’s feelings to actually remove them from my friend list, so I simply “hide” them instead. However, “making decisions based on others’ approval or on guilt breeds resentment, a product of our sinful nature. We have been so trained by others on what we ‘should’ do that we think we are being loving when we do things out of compulsion” (p.42).

When I did decide to delete a friend or two, my personal reasoning was to put some space between the person and myself because I felt betrayed in some way, and believed I needed to protect myself from their criticism and negativity.  Because I was uncomfortable confronting them, and “hiding” them only kept them invisible to me, I believed the best way to protect myself from them was removal from my cyber life. Once I felt I was able to trust their intentions (or once I let go of my own negative emotions), I was ready to again accept them as “virtual friends.” But really, it wasn’t about them, it was about me. “Feelings should neither be ignored nor placed in charge. … Feelings come from your heart and can tell you the state of your relationships. They can tell you if things are going well, or if there is a problem. If you feel close and loving, things are probably going well. If you feel angry, you have a problem that needs to be addressed. But the point is, your feelings are your responsibility and you must own them and see them as your problem so you can begin to find an answer to whatever issue they are pointing to” (p.40).

There have been times in my life when I fretted over the belief that someone didn’t like me, even that they had unfriended me. In my first years of teaching, I felt terrible if a student thought I was a bad teacher or said they didn’t like me or my class. The same applied to co-workers. I recall, my first year teaching I was nominated by a colleague for a teacher of the year award at my school. The winner was selected by popular vote from among our fellow teachers. While it was an enormous compliment to even be nominated, not to mention during my first year teaching, the likelihood of receiving the majority of votes was improbable. However, I internalized my “failure” to win as a measure of how much or how little people liked me. I saw myself as a failure, instead of focusing on the success and recognition of being nominated. Suddenly, I had something to prove. If they did not believe I was good enough to vote for me, I must make myself good enough. This was not something I consciously stated, but in analyzing my subsequent behavior it’s likely my subconscious had pushed my work ethic into hyperdrive. In my mind, hard work + being liked = success. This pattern was first rooted while I was in high school, when I had been nominated by my peers (being liked) for Prom Queen, but regardless of my contributions and countless hours planning and decorating (hard work), I failed to impress the final selection committee (not being liked). The next year, my campaign for student body president (hard work) was not realized (not being liked). In college, despite my efforts (hard work), I was looked over for an excellence in student teaching award (not being liked). And, nearly every year since I began my career, I have been nominated for various teaching distinction awards and failed to ever be selected as the winner. Last year, a colleague asked if he could nominate me for yet another teaching award. Politely, I declined, asking him to nominate someone else, perhaps a teacher who would be retiring that year. I couldn’t take another instance of being subjected to the selection process, only to receive notification that once again I didn’t meet the mark. It was beginning to feel like a cruel joke … and even as I sit here typing this, I’d just like to slap myself upside the head and say, “Are you kidding me!? You are the most ungrateful person! Look at all of the people who are never nominated, never even in the running! Will you stop throwing yourself a pity party and be pleased with the love and recognition you did get?!” It’s a continual, internal tug-of-war of insecurities versus infinite individual worth.

There is no denying that I absolutely love what I do; I love my students, I love the subjects I teach, I love that I am making a difference for even one person, but that love has become twisted by believing that I am not worthy of reciprocated love unless I am the best at what I do, and I’m not the best unless others say I am. “What we value is what we love and assign importance to. Often we do not take responsibility for what we value. We are caught up in valuing the approval of men rather than the approval of God (John 12:43); because of this misplaced value, we miss out on life. We think that power, riches, and pleasure [or recognition] will satisfy our deepest longing, which is really for love. When we take responsibility for out-of-control behavior caused by loving the wrong things, or valuing things that have no lasting value, when we confess that we have a heart that values things that will not satisfy, we can receive help from God and his people to ‘create a new heart’ within us” (p.43). It’s as if I’m on an unattainable mission to please everyone, and essentially I’m pleasing no one, especially myself. This is because, as C. Terry Warner explains in his book Bonds that Make Us Free: Healing Our Relationships, Coming to Ourselves (2001), I have betrayed myself: “as self-betrayers we project an image of a deserving, worthwhile person, and then we struggle constantly to produce evidence that we’re measuring up to that image.  … We must conceal what we suspect we really are so as to keep from being ‘found out.’ But what we cover up when we hide behind this ‘false front’ – when we publicly project an idealized and fictitious version of ourselves – is not real. We are no more the worthless person we are trying to hide than the impressively worthwhile person we are trying to hide behind. … We have little conception of how worthwhile we are because we are working so hard to prove how worthwhile we are!” (p.74-75). I have spent hours meditating and re-reading much of what Warner writes, as it is difficult to wrap my brain around it all. So, let me see if I get this: I am hiding what I think I really am (a loser and a failure) behind a façade of dedication, hard work, and over competence, but really I am neither the failure, nor am I the amazing teacher, friend, homemaker, church member, etc. So, what am I if I am neither? I suppose that is what I must figure out. That is my quest, to seek the Holy Grail of what or who I am or want to be, and then to be that! I want to feel successful, not because I have a plaque that says so, but because at the end of the day I feel it; I want to know I did my best and no one can tell me otherwise; there is no trophy, title, or tribute that can be taken away.

Sadly, this is not the only form of self-betrayal. There are multiple ways in which a person can betray him/herself. Let me go back to the idea of me unfriending people on Facebook. I believed I had been wronged or at the very least I was offended by the behavior of these other people. However, “one person can give offense only if the other will take offense. One person can insult, humiliate, intimidate, anger, bore, or provoke only if the other actively construes what he or she does as insulting, humiliating, intimidating, angering, boring, or provoking” (p.98). I chose to be offended by their behavior, and by judging them I made them my enemy, and I betrayed myself. Warner explains that this form of self-betrayal occurs:

When we … shift responsibility onto others by means of our accusing thoughts and feelings, we … believe it is their mistreatment of us that leads us to accuse them. This is the self-betrayer’s lie. The truth – the profound, almost world-shaking truth – is that we accuse them because of our mistreatment of them. … Life becomes hard to bear only when we, as self-betrayers, cast ourselves in a victim’s role by regarding others as our victimizers and nurse our misfortunes as if they were badges of honor. I think of self-betrayal as a form of subtle self-destruction because it obliterates the open and generous individuals we can and ought to be – and all for this paltry mess of pottage, the unsteady and impermanent feeling of justification in wrongdoing. … We can’t feel justified in withholding kindness from others unless we find, or invent, some reasons why they deserve it – some deficiency or despicable characteristic that requires us to ignore or correct or chasten or punish them … By our self-victimizations, we exaggerate others’ destructiveness and our own helplessness. … We display ourselves as suffering at their hands. And we evade acknowledging our mistreatment of them by accusing them of mistreating us. … Once we betray ourselves, accuse others, and box ourselves into the victim’s role, we no longer see things the way they really are. In our minds, there can be only two options: one is that we are right in accusing them, which means that they are guilty of all the trouble between us and that we are their victims; the other is that we’re wrong and they aren’t guilty after all, and this means we’re guilty of the trouble and they are our victims. … if we were to acknowledge not being a victim, in that very instant we would in our own eyes become a victimizing, hypocritical monster. (p.30, 54, 64, 67, 71-72)

First, I allowed myself to be offended by their actions. By so doing, I placed myself in the role of victim, thereby giving them power over me, my feelings, and my choices. Warner explains throughout the text that when we fail to act either as we know we should or act as we know we should not, we are betraying ourselves and living a lie.

Unfortunately, I live this lie every morning I drop my son at the sitter. As I race down the street, putting on my make-up in the car, I commence the drill sergeant commands: “Seat belt off, get ready, hurry, hurry, jump out, I’m late, don’t make Mommy more late, come on, Buddy … (tone change) have a great day, love you, be good … (no movement) okay, come on, get out, I have got to go!” His sleepy eyes droop, his shivering body still not adjusted to the cold of the car, his little legs moving slowly from his car seat to open his door. It is 100% my fault we are running late, because I stayed up the night before reading or thinking or writing, and so I snoozed my alarm to the last possible second. The rush to get ready and out the door lasts about thirty minutes, and most mornings I am worried I will arrive at school after the tardy bell has rung. My quietly dreaming son, warm in his bed, is woken abruptly by me putting on his socks and coat, packing his backpack with clothes for the day, and whispering directives to, “Get in the car.” It’s this terrible roller coaster I place him on every morning, and then I get frustrated and upset when he is moving too slowly, crying because he doesn’t “want to wear the shirt with buttons!” or stands at the babysitter’s door and won’t walk in. Because of my choices I am frustrated, not because of him, yet I treat him like he is the cause, like he is the enemy, making me late for work. Here I fail to do what I know I should (to get up early, to create a calm, safe, warm, and patient atmosphere for my child, to arrive to work on time, etc.) and then I vilify my own son in the process. And, how often do we do this with not only our children, but our co-workers, our friends, our siblings, our parents, and most often our spouse?

So, what must I do now?

§  I must realize I am of infinite worth because I am a daughter of God, and stop trying to prove my worth.

§  I must determine what makes me a success in my own eyes and live that truthfully.

§  I must own my emotions and not blame others for making me feel anything.

§  I must be true to myself by doing what I know I should and by not doing what I know I should not.

And when I fall short of doing all of that, I must remember the words of Gerald N. Lund: “Remember that one of Satan’s strategies, especially with good people, is to whisper in their ears: ‘If you are not perfect, you are failing.’ This is one of his most effective deceptions. … We should recognize that God is pleased with every effort we make – no matter how faltering – to better ourselves” (qtd. in Wilcox, 2009, p.108). At the very least, I should be pleased with my effort to move in the right direction and grateful for the distance I have traveled so far.

§  Workbook Questions: What do you tend to do with your feelings – ignore them or let them be in charge? Why? If you are nursing any negative feelings right now, what problem that needs to be addressed are they pointing you toward? You are the only one who feels the effects of your attitudes and beliefs, and you are the only one who can change those attitudes and beliefs. Which attitudes and beliefs that you hold are causing you to make poor choices or experience pain? What will you do to get those attitudes and beliefs in line with God’s truth? (Post your response as a comment.)