Boundaries, our inner power. The lines we draw for ourselves and implement in our worlds. Owning who we are and what our needs are, boundaries keep us safe, aligned and on our path.
Now what happens if you don’t really have lines that can be crossed or know where boundaries can be created in your life. What happens if you’re all loosey goosey and don’t see boundaries as a necessary application? When you will do anything for anyone regardless of your own needs for fear of conflict or guilt? Or when you ruminate over anticipating people’s desires so extensively that they don’t even need to ask for you to self-sacrifice?
Well I can tell you from experience where it eventually led me. It was a dark and lonely place, filled with thoughts that the world was out to get me. Doused with hope and wishful thinking that someone else would meet my discarded needs. A place ladened with expectations on others, in line with the parts of myself I gave resentfully away. Not realising that, as I did things for other that I didn’t want to do, I was subconsciously telling myself that my needs didn’t matter. And whilst I was crying out to be put first by someone, I was teaching myself and others that it wasn’t necessary. There was no way to get what I wanted without boundaries and the only person who could own and enforce them is me.
Life was a lot heavier before I learnt the word no. Before I learnt that I didn’t have to do anything that I didn’t want to do for anyone else and that I didn’t even need to explain myself if I didn’t wish to. And, what’s more, I didn’t need to feel guilty at all for it! I learnt to see myself as my own best friend and zooming out would think, “What do I want for my best friend whom I love?” and the answer was always for her needs to be met.
I was raised with more of a martyrdom rather than a ‘do unto others as you would do unto yourself’ attitude. The catholic faith that I grew up in taught a lot of turning the other cheek and loving thy neighbour. When the ideal of treating others how you would like to be treated was frequently thrown about, it didn’t suggest that treating yourself the way you would like to be treated was the best starting point. That the best way to truly love your neighbour was to learn to love yourself.
Now, I am all about how I can serve others and what I can share with the world. I derive a lot of my purpose from opening others eyes to the joys of what’s possible in this lifetime. But I know that you cannot pour from an empty cup and to serve from a place of integrity, practicing what you preach is everything. Within strong boundaries you can step into your inner power and serve from a place of complete authenticity.
I want others to have boundaries and do what serves them. Despite my human side wanting a reason why sometimes, I know its not important. If everyone tuned in, listened to themselves and ensured their own needs were met, the world would be a more peaceful place. When the catholic guilt creeps back in on occasion, I remind myself that the only people who don’t like you setting boundaries, are the ones who benefitted from you not having them.
I’ve started writing this post three times now and considered not addressing Boundaries at all. I still feel like a work in progress, a fallible human being who doesn’t always put what she knows into practice. The subject feels like stepping on delicate territory and I question the level of vulnerability I want to share in this little blog. Wondering who reads it, how to approach things authentically whilst keeping myself and others safe. Essentially questioning, what are the boundaries of my blog!?
Boundaries are something that I only started to understand in my thirties. I think that they are something that you learn from your parents, and I think it’s fair for me to say lovingly that mine are pretty awful at them! Or phrased more consciously.. An area of great potential growth for them 😊
I think when you don’t have firm boundaries in place, its hard for you to feel safe and then, in a non grounded, survival state one can tend to lose accountability for oneself and one’s emotions. I grew up in an environment where we thought people ‘made us feel’ certain ways and looked for what others could do to change rather than always owning our parts in it.
When you are living boundarylessly, self-sacrificing and trying to shape shift into what you think others want, its then not unreasonable that you think they hold some blame for trigger of emotions in you. Because you were only trying to please them or make them feel a certain way. When you weren’t acting with your own intentions in mind, then the reactions or response that comes up doesn’t feel like your fault. You were just the poor little human being doing their best for others and now you feel like a victim because you didn’t get it right and now you are suffering and you don’t want to take accountability for your actions. All you people pleasers out there, I see you!
This brings me to asking for what you need. Another grey zone for the boundaryless in us. Well if we just want to make other people happy and don’t know what we want ourselves how do we ask for what we need? If we got brought up without having space for our own needs, how do we know what they are? If we just want to keep the peace and fear any form of confrontation, how do we possibly express a request for our needs to be met and heaven forbid if we make it specific and actionably for someone?!
Asking for what we need is so important. If for nothing else but to know what we need and to give it to ourselves. Or that, whatever you believe in, can hear your call and bring it your way. We are only able to manifest things in our reality when we are clear and specific about what we want and believe we can have it.
Now this is where I am going to start getting specific about what has brought up this topic of boundaries for me this week. And for the vulnerable reason being that it surrounds my recently discovered greatest fear, falling in love.
I couldn’t help but wonder… Do I want to write about my forage into the world of dating and become the next Carrie Bradshaw? Not really. Do I think that I can authentically continue to write this blog whilst I date, experiencing everything that it brings up in me and keep them separate? No… So here we go.
I’ll give a little context, try to keep it brief and on scope as I could write a book on my trials and tribulations of romantic endeavours.
My most recent relationship ended last June. Blindsided by another tumultuous unravelling, I really needed some breathing space. If I looked through the three relationships I have had over the past five years, there were some blatant themes surrounding addictions, and I was the only common denominator. After each of those relationships I thought I had healed the parts of me that kept the pattern of suffering alive, but this third time round was definitely not lucky. When I finally managed to end the relationship, I was left shell-shocked by my blind spots and seething over the disregard of my boundaries. I thought a lot about my part in it all and where I was accountable. I came to the law of attraction and how I was attracting what I am. To be honest, experiencing his relationship with alcohol was a big catalyst for why I am sitting here four months sober today. I realised that all the chemistry I’d been caught up in was just wound attachment, playing out my father wound again with another emotionally unavailable man. The little girl in me hoping to finally be enough this time round, for the man to choose me over his addictions. That I am the one he finally feels safe to come out of hiding for. That my love will heal him and allow him to break through his fears of love, so that he can be present with me and love me with all of him.
Yea, so this didn’t happen… again! And I blamed myself for not listening to the very early warning signs. For not observing what he did rather than what he said. For not treating myself with the respect and love I deserved by letting him cross boundary after boundary until I had none left and no choice but to leave. And from doing this it brought up a distrust in myself that I should have known better this time. That I had been here before, how did I not spot it this time? When oh when will I learn the lesson?
Post break up, caught up in my anger and post-traumatic stress from how quickly things had spiralled out of control, I had no interest in dating. There was healing to be done and lots of lessons to integrate. So I honoured this. For months I focused on giving myself the love, respect and time I wanted so that I can then attract that into my life. Finally feeling ready enough to push through the fear of the dating, I bravely joined Tinder in Koh Tao in March. As much as I would love to manifest meeting my dream man on top of a mountain meditating, Tinder seems to be the way here. Plus, initially I was still pretty deep in my fear that I was only really wanted to spend time connecting with new men and practice the art of my friendzone boundary. Which worked out pretty well for me!
I have thought a lot recently about how I am a paradox, simultaneously wanting and standing in my own way of the things I want. Turning every date into a friend is a way of playing small and isn’t what I want and so I needed to change my attitude to it. I match with this guy on Tinder that I actually think I’ll fancy and looks like a lot of potential. Common interests and he’s FIT. Everyone is a winner. I had a little inkling from the get-go that the volume of muscles and tattoos were somewhat of a red flag. They are my Achilles heel and stir up that kind of wound attachment in me rather than the peace I want to feel. They scream “my insecurities ignite narcissistic qualities that are going to not end well for you”… but hey ho, sometimes we need a little reminder of what we know already the hard way. When you’re still just a 6ft tall pre-teen at heart who wants to feel like a tiny girl in the safe arms of the giant warrior.. Sigh!
I’ve wanted to write about sober dating for a while as its actually the best thing ever. Choosing a romantic partner is, I would say, the biggest decision in your life. It’s your biggest sphere of influence, who you create a safe, nurturing home with and co-create life with. Yet I have spent my life doing it partially blind, in various degrees of numbness, going for drinks. Would you go for the most important career meeting of your life drunk? No, you’d probably be getting an early night the night before. I think the vulnerability that dating can require means it feels easier to relax with a helping drink in hand. But you don’t really get to know someone drinking. You get to spend time in their company, lowering your boundaries until something happens. Letting loose is one thing but you set the tone that the relationship will be built on. From knowing how that story ends, connecting through drinking is something I need to steer well and truly clear from. In this awesome space of sober dating, you create genuine openness and vulnerability through being fully present. Your ability to connect, notice little things and think clearly is alive. But does it mean we always listen to it?… In this story, no!
Part of what I had spent time thinking about, in my single pringle tube, was how I wanted events to romantically unfold when I finally met someone. How I really wanted to connect slowly over shared values and vision for the world and the life we would like to live. How I wanted to experience romance and commitment before engaging in anything physical. I have had a block around physical touch early on for fear of it impairing my clarity. So that it would only be after a good few dates of connecting souls that we would share a magical kiss on the beach under the moonlight. That the kiss would be worth the months of waiting and pain of the past. That through healing all my personal and ancestral trauma I will finally find my prince charming and live happily ever after. But of course this is not how it panned out for me. I did not get the Disney movie I ordered.
So let’s get back to this Tinder story, with this potential prince charming. After a successful first dinner date, we met again at a day party. Our time together before this had been pretty comfortable and respectful and so I had thought it would be fun to explore the other sides of us, dancing in the sunshine to house music overlooking the sea. I didn’t feel too plussed at him tipping away on the beers whilst I was sober. I was super proud of myself for ordering, holding and not drinking his beer for a very long five minutes in the sweaty blazing hot sunshine, whilst I patiently waiting for my soda water. However, his drop of boundaries and loosey gooseyness started to play into our dynamic and the requests to kiss him started. A lot of things were going through my mind at the time whilst he persisted; “not like this”, “not here”, “not now”. It wasn’t that it was something I hadn’t considered or wanted but the circumstances felt far from romantic and he didn’t really seem to care that I said no countless times. I shared my reasons why and what I am looking for despite not needing to justify the why to my no. I heard myself say at the time “He’s not listening to your boundaries. You can walk away from the situation.” Despite being at a beach party that was only accessible by boat or two hour hike, leaving was still a possibility.
I felt so much resistance in me to the kiss, which then turned into self doubt. Are you making this into too much of a big deal? You are thirty five years old, kissing a guy isn’t a great ask. This is an opportunity to connect with someone you like, even if it doesn’t look like how you had imagined.
My counsellor used to tell me that I found it difficult to receive love when it didn’t look like I expected it to, didn’t fit in within my set specific parameters. Its definitely something that resonates even if it was initally hard to accept. The control of receiving love that kept me safe I guess, the control that I am doing my damndest to release. So I gave in, allowed it to happen, treated myself to letting down the walls a little and sharing a kiss.
I owned that it wasn’t what I wanted it to look like but that I maybe needed to get out of my own way a little. After almost a year of not fancying anyone, being confused as to whether or not I was dead inside, it felt good to know that this was not the case and to start exploring a connection on a different level. We discussed how it was a big deal for me, but I gave into it and enjoyed it thinking maybe it would work out differently to what I thought. Deep down knowing that I knew better and that there would be a price to pay.
So as we say goodbye, he asks me to go paddle boarding with him a few days later, to this little island off the coast of Phangan. I’d expressed that I wasn’t that comfortable paddle boarding and preferred to kayak, but he was very into it so I figured I would give it a go. To be honest, it sounded like a lovely romantic idea, paddling across the ocean together, having a little chit chat then exploring an uninhabited island by foot. Despite holding hope for this vision, I headed there feeling resistance. The resistance was the tension of knowing that I had previously crossed my boundaries, my body alert in self-protection. And in terms of our vision, we see the world differently which was hard to get past; where he saw human fault I considered the journey, where he saw grey I looked for the sparkle. However, I figured that what I was experiencing was a mirror of my own dissatisfaction which he could help shed some light on. Plus, I guess there was a little bit of attachment building, so I decided not to listen and to go against the whispers.
I rock up and am triggered instantaneously. From how we’d left things previously, it feeling like the start of something, I am greeted with a brief hug and five minutes of him being on his phone. I’ve had more connection from strangers at ecstatic dance. My abandonment wounds were activated, my nervous system alarm bells starting to ring. This does not feel romantic.
Eventually we set off. I had to ask for help getting on the board and remind him that I don’t really know what I was doing. From the second we get paddling it doesn’t feel like a date, just two separate people off paddle boarding in the ocean. I’m getting pulled out to sea by the current and himself with all the muscles is calmly heading in the correct direction to the island. The distance between us grows and it becomes increasingly difficult to communicate across the void. I do my best to keep my spirits intact by singing Proud Mary, Rolling on the River. I figure we’ll just chat when we get there. I didn’t figure that he would head speed over to the island leaving me floundering in the middle of the ocean against the current for a good half an hour. Paddle boarding is not my sport!
As I watch him, full steam ahead, not looking back, navigating the ocean of boats and currents solo, my songs dry out and so much anger stirs up in me. I have been doing a lot of work to connect to my anger and bring it to the surface rather that internalise it. I was triggered as f*ck and also hormonal. Not only had I kissed this guy on his terms, I was also now doing an activity that I find pretty stressful on the first day of my period, by myself in the middle of the ocean, fighting the current to navigate to shore. SO many metaphors playing out in reality.
Eventually, after some time waiting for me around the shore, he decides to paddle back towards me. At last, I think as he draws closer. Trying to respond to my anger rather than react, I make a passive aggressive “joke” about being left in the middle of the ocean. To which he tells me that I wasn’t doing it right or trying hard enough. And so began my first ever fight out on the open ocean with a man I had known for but two weeks. It escalated quickly to swearing and he was heading back to shore with or without me. I wanted to paddle off into the sunset but I couldn’t because I am shit at paddle boarding. So, I slowly rekindled my fight with the current and headed back to shore behind him.
Although I had written him off as a life partner the second he’d paddled off without me, I didn’t run away when I arrived back at shore. This is the thing about boundaries. Once you’ve crossed them you are operating in a grey area. Once you’ve gone past your line, it’s hard to see what it was. I wanted to understand what had happened and express what feelings had come up in me, under less stressful conditions than trying to keep my balance on a paddle board. My take away from it all is how important it is to communicate your needs to someone. You can’t assume that someone knows that you want them to keep close by if you don’t ask for it. I am aware that I can come across as very independent, self sufficient and at ease with adventurous tasks. And this is true. But these qualities, whilst gifts are also cultivated from protection mechanisms. Protection mechanisms I don’t want to have to keep in place within a romantic relationship. Protection mechanisms that I need to let go of to allow space for the intimacy of vulnerability. And in my fear of being vulnerable, not expressing my needs before heading out to sea, my fairytale fantasy came crashing down before my eyes.
In some ways I am quite proud of myself. Past Jayne, might have fawned and not spoken up for herself. There would have been no fight and we’d maybe have another date planned. Future Jayne will try to envoke a little more non violent communication practices, whilst expressing her feelings next time. But I’ll give myself a break, as trying to not fall off the board into the sea whilst emotional and fighting was a big enough feat.
That night, as I drove off from the date to meet some friends for dinner, rather than the romantic post paddleboard dinner I had anticipated, I thank the Universe out loud. Thank you for showing me so clearly so soon. Thank you for keeping me safe and on my path. Thank you for this knowing that means I can’t turn back.
Despite this knowing I was still rife with abandonment and emotions, the scale of which was far beyond this awful date. What came up in my anger and sadness was boundaries. How abandoning myself and doing things for others that I don’t want to do doesn’t work for me. That it is no one else’s responsibility to establish and maintain my boundaries other than mine. And that my no means a no the first time and that I need to be sure to honour that completely and not abandon that ever. No matter how big or small the boundary may seem.
My nervous system was all over the place from this experience and I really needed a good cry. I knew the way I was feeling wasn’t about this guy, just old wounds resurfacing and their accompanying emotions needed to be released. I figured this was the perfect opportunity to get myself to The Jade Temple. It’s a women’s community space on Koh Phangan with a focus on restoring the sacred feminine and transforming through sisterhood and embodied feminine leadership. It had been on my radar since I arrived on the island and they had a full day feminine embodiment workshop the following day. I spent the next day in such beautiful sisterhood. The gift of the safe and loving container to deepen my connection to and expression of my authentic self. To be seen and held as I am. We explored boundaries, asking for what we need and holding space for that with each other. Through the day I felt and released all that had built up in me and left smiling and glowing. The day showed me that I can safely explore and embody my boundaries with others. That its okay to allow things to progress slowly if that is what feels right for me. And that doing this allows me to feel seen and accepted as I am, which lets my light shine so much brighter.
I used to get annoyed when people asked things of me that I didn’t want to give because of how hard I found it to say no. Now I am clearer on it than ever and yet still under persistence I caved. I think we get given opportunities to practice what we’ve learnt. Put our new knowledge into practice. And we are human, we aren’t always going to get it right, but we keep going. Now I have more confidence that next time I will stay true to myself. I will remove myself from the situation sooner if it doesn’t feel right, trusting the warning signs of pressure. Or maybe I’ll finally steer clear of big warrior men who know how to work a woman to get what they want.
I have faith that maybe there was a deeper part of me that needed to be brought to the surface for some further love and healing. It’s all just part of the process of becoming ready to welcome the love of my life in. I have learnt throughout the experience that I am steadfast in who I am and what I want even when faced with adversity. That my intuition is right from the get-go and that I can trust it instantly without needing to play it out for proof. I’m sure that this won’t be the last time someone requests to cross my boundaries, but I sure do intend to make it the last time I let them.
2 responses to “Boundaries”
A day at a time.
A step at a time.
A breath at a time.
The rest is not ours to chose, simply to live!
Something that, all in all, so little of us are actually bold enough to do.
Impressed by your step out to the world grand ma.
Keep in touch & keep on shinning
X
PS: Not sure which dark parts of yours did I reverberated to 😉
[…] So I want to take this back to last week’s blog post on Boundaries. […]