Tag Archives: Boundaries

Critical Boundaries

Are you absolutely sick of hearing about “boundaries”?  Yeah, me, too, sometimes. And yet, here I go.

Many of us are also tired of hearing, “I have a right to my opinion.” Yup, we all do – and we then have the right to experience the consequences of sharing said opinion.

In particular, I’m thinking about the encroaching that parents of adults routinely make in regard to their independent adult children. The adult who is still dependent, perhaps living under a parent’s roof or otherwise supported, forfeits a little in the boundary department when it comes to behavior in the home or financial issues. That is a separate conversation. I’m also not talking about an intervention for a severe problem; addiction and its consequences, for example, can require strong measures.

I’m talking about the comments, questions and subtle criticisms that so many people think are acceptable conversational elements when it comes to their independent adult children.

Adults who are independent and living well, do not need uninvited advice on what they should be doing. “Living well” may not mean “living just like me” or “living as I would in the same circumstances.” Parents who offer such advice think, I love them and I want to help them with my hard-won wisdom.

That is not what their children hear. They hear,

Nothing you do is good enough/right/acceptable, or,

You are incompetent to handle your life.

The adult child is, understandably, offended by such criticism, direct or implied. They may think, they have no idea what life is like now. It’s not like it was then. Why can’t they even ask before they just go firing off advice and telling me what I ought to do?

Fair enough.

If you wouldn’t walk up to a stranger or a neighbor or acquaintance with the same uninvited guidance on how to improve something in their lives, why do this to another adult who happens to be your offspring?

Imagine walking up to some stranger in the produce department and announcing that leggings with such a short top might not be the best look for them since the vacation/surgery/baby and adding a helpful, “I’m just saying,” before wandering off to inspect the fresh spinach.

Or perhaps interrupting a neighbor’s enthusiastic description of a recent vacation with, “Don’t you people ever get tired of cruises/hiking/camping/theme parks/bicycle tours/ etc.?”

Would you walk up to a coworker and pepper them with questions about their preference for leasing over buying motor vehicles, barely listening to their response before piling on another criticism barely veiled in a question?

I have met people, of course, who would freely do all the above – and they are not exactly models for healthy relationships. Yet many other people will speak to their adult children this way, and be indignant when their children push back or just get quiet.

None of this seems worth cutting off parents for; to me, it seems like a hard conversation waiting to be had. I have seen families ruptured by this; the parent who refuses to accept reasonable boundaries, the adult child seemingly eager to take offense. Flags on the field all around, from my perspective. But both have to be willing to accept their slice of responsibility if things are going to get better.

Thanks for reading.

Boundaries, Fences and the Berlin Wall

My cousin George died a few years ago, still with Soviet bullet fragments in one leg from his part in helping people escape from East Germany to the west. He had been a young man seemingly allergic to caution and willing to risk death to help others through what was intended to be an implacable barrier, the old Berlin Wall.

There are walls, and fences, and boundaries. The fences around our back yard allow bunnies to slip from one yard to the next. Yesterday, a squirrel chased a small bunny – not much bigger than said squirrel. The bunny escaped under the fence; the squirrel scurried up the fence to be sure the bunny was banished to the neighbor’s yard. The bunny, meanwhile, scampered right back into our yard. Up above, the squirrel looked left and right for the bunny. They had, apparently, an issue with boundaries.

Boundaries.  Twenty-plus years ago, boundaries were discussed most often in therapy, helping clients, often victims of emotional, physical and/or sexual abuse, learn how to put up practical, realistic limits for interactions with others. As the topic became more commonly known, wise writers and speakers (Brene Brown, for example) provided practical and inspiring information about developing and maintaining these healthy limits.

Like anything else, though, something good can be misused.

Medications that are essential to reduce some pain for someone in the final stages of cancer kill non-patients via drug abuse.

Entire genres of horror movies revolve around practical items used as devices of mayhem.

And the important psychological concept of boundaries – that we are each distinct beings and have a right to dignity and mutual respect ¬ is weaponized, like so much else in therapy, by far too many people.

As an example, consider the meme that “No is a complete sentence.”  That’s fine, as far it goes. But how often is that level of curtness warranted?

Husband: “Would you like to go out for ice cream?”

Lori: “No.”

Okay, for one thing, unless I am on a medically required pre-surg fast I wouldn’t ever say no to ice cream, so it’s ludicrous on that count. Secondly, it’s just rude. “No.” Better: no, thank you; tomorrow would be better, or, No, not this instant; could we go after I finish this paperwork?

No is a complete sentence, and optimally a loud one, when someone behaves inappropriately – then drawing attention to the need to stop an encroachment makes “NO! NO! NO!” a complete paragraph.

But the magical complete “No” is the least of my concerns. What happens more is the application of “I’m setting a boundary” when the person (usually a gaslighting partner or manipulative family member) really means, I’ve decided to be mean to you and I am using the magic hall pass word of boundary to get away with it. It’s totally legitimate to set a boundary. Yet, when used to justify inconsiderate behavior, it becomes a useful tool gone bad, a well-oiled emotional chainsaw in the wrong hands.

Of course, there are many people who refuse to accept reasonable boundaries.

For example, the fact, grandparents, that your (and my) fantasy of grandparent-life looked one way does not impose that script on our adult children. Whether we like it or not, they largely write that script and we can be enthusiastic about our roles, or be miserable grumbles and find ourselves little more than walk-ons.

Adult children who are not financially dependent on you do not need your unsolicited guidance on what they should be doing with their money. That conversation reasonably happens when they breach their “I’m a grownup boundary” by asking for money. They have, at that point, called you up from the Parent Reserves to Active Duty, and at that point you can ask questions, like, exactly what are they proposing to “pay off” with your IRA distribution for the entire year? Counter their complaints about boundaries that they are the ones opening that door.

When someone brings up the boundary word, it is time to breathe, ask some clarifying questions, and then take some time to reflect.

Does this feel like gameplaying – do the “boundaries” in this relationship keep shifting like quicksand?

Can you discern the difference between your disappointment and actual manipulation and meanness?

Does this sound as if the person is using psychological terminology to justify distancing from family? Is it possible that there are factors you don’t know about, or don’t sufficiently understand, that make this reasonable to them and for them at this time? This is entirely separate from you being disappointed.  Example: if big family holidays include family members who have been cruel, or abusive, or harshly critical, or have bullying senses of “humor” towards this person, the person placing a boundary up is acting in reasonable self-interest.

Usually, in the short term, the uncomfortable fact is that you can’t change the situation; you must figure out how to adapt. Pushing against the decision will, inadvertently, reinforce the decision; your arguments, tears and complaints will be interpreted as more evidence of disrespect for their asserted interpersonal boundaries – whether they are emotional boundaries, actual physical distance, or the dire separation equivalent to the old Berlin Wall.