Friday, January 7, 2011

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.

Wednesday, January 5, 2011

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

Sunday, January 2, 2011

Internalizing

The phrase “easier said than done” echoes regularly in my mind … most often after listening to or reading some sensible advice on how I should conduct my life or adjust my attitude. I get it, I really do. I understand intellectually what I should think and how I should act, but internalizing and embracing that concept is, well, easier said than done.

(I have been ridiculously good, however, at a different kind of internalization. Rather than deal with a conflict or express an emotion, I have kept it all in, guarding myself and my feelings from others. This speaks to what I’ve been reading on the concept of boundaries, and letting the bad out and the good in. But that topic is for a later blog post. For this post, I’m focusing on internalizing as in the adoption of beliefs or attitudes.)

A few weeks ago, we took the kids to dinner at our favorite local Chinese restaurant. To avoid fights and to give each of the boys the opportunity to have a voice in making family decisions, we allow them to take a turn choosing where we go out to eat. This particular night it was my eldest’s choice and luckily, regardless of the automatic groaning from his brothers, they all enjoy Chinese food.

Per custom, at the end of the meal, we each lifted our fortune cookies, broke them, and took a turn reading the random messages within. What happened next took me a bit by surprise and I didn’t know whether to laugh or to gag. My second son, after reading his fortune, promptly folded the slip of paper into a tiny square and popped it into his mouth.

“What are you doing?” I quizzed, a horrified look on my face.

“I’m making my fortune come true!” he pronounced, his smile beaming with confidence, “I’ll eat yours, too, if you want!”

Apparently, my sister’s sons (the oldest and therefore most influential cousins) had convinced my boys that if they wanted their fortunes to come true they must eat them.

This method of internalization, while unconventional, seemed to contain a kernel of wisdom: the faith, hope, and belief that if I take this information into my soul it will happen – it will come true. For me, what is it? It is the information, the words I am studying, the advice from people far wiser than myself. It is the change that will happen within my heart.

This experience reminded me of a similar concept I had read in The Continuous Atonement. Wilcox (2009) discusses the sacrament (or the Holy Communion, the Eucharist, the Lord’s Supper, the shewbread and wine, or whatever your church may call this rite) and the internalization, both literal and symbolic, that occurs with partaking of the sacred emblems (the bread and water, wine, or grape juice).  “For members of Christ’s church, the bread of the sacrament represents Christ’s body, the water His blood. But without us, those blessed emblems merely sit in trays. We must pick them up and put them inside. We must internalize Jesus’ offering. That’s how we thank Jesus for all He has done – by accepting His love, remembering His sacrifice, and applying His teachings and Atonement in our lives. Christ’s gifts are freely given, but they must also be freely received” (p.38).

So, just like the sacrament and just like my son’s Chinese fortune, I must put these things I am reading inside and make them a part of who I am. In the same way Wilcox (2009) admonishes me to accept, remember, and apply the Atonement, I must internalize the information I am studying by accepting, remembering, and applying that information.

I accept as I highlight passages that speak to me.
I remember as I analyze, write about, and share what I have gleaned.
I apply as I live each day, trying to do my best, challenging myself to do better, remembering I am not perfect, exercising faith, forgiving freely, finding hope in the future, crying less, smiling more, and “faking it ‘til I make it.”

And eventually, I hope, instead of thinking, “Easier said than done,” I can say, “I have done what I said and it has eased my mind.”