I’ve thought a lot about boundaries lately. My interest in this started in 2019 after I read the book Boundaries by Henry Cloud and John Townsend. Despite seeming to understand it at the time, I struggled to apply what I’d learned, and later realized that I had misunderstood some key aspects. Mainly, I didn’t understand that setting and maintaining boundaries is about deciding what I will do, not trying to control what others do. This appears to be a common misunderstanding around boundaries. For example, if someone often gossips to me about others and I don’t want to be around gossip, I could either try to make them stop or I could leave whenever they start gossiping. The latter option is a boundary. Now that I finally understand this, I’ve been able to apply it successfully in a variety of situations.
However, as I’ve written about before, I wonder if I’m setting too many boundaries and depriving myself of meaningful interactions. In general, it takes much less than it used to for me to stop interacting with someone, whether temporarily or permanently. On my most difficult days, even the slightest bit of negativity from somebody else can make me disengage. Despite the fact that the more I heal, the easier it gets to avoid taking things personally, I still find it extremely difficult at times. It’s almost impossible for me to do this when I’m feeling exhausted, sad, afraid, angry, or otherwise overwhelmed.
This has got me thinking a lot about Nonviolent Communication by Marshall Rosenberg. I first read it years ago and have listened to many hours of Marshall talking about it this year. That renewed interest has made it easier for me to listen empathically and connect with the concerns, feelings, needs, and pains of others. It still amazes me how well Marshall could do this, even in some of the most intense confrontations around extremely painful issues.
When I hear audio of people saying things I disagree with, it’s fairly easy to listen for the emotions and pain underneath the words, which increases my understanding of their needs and reduces my chances of feeling upset over what they are saying. I still find it enormously difficult to do this in my interactions with others, though. Fear of how they’ll respond, the time it can take me to figure out how they’re feeling, pressure to respond quickly, and the fact that this isn’t yet a habit for me all prevent me from doing this more often than not.
I especially hate the lack of reciprocity that continues to plague most of my interactions. While there are some folks who will show interest in what I’m feeling, wanting, and needing after I’ve done that for them, many others never do. That makes me feel frustrated and sad and results in me severely limiting my exposure to anyone who takes but never gives. It’s incredibly hard, frustrating, and draining being one of the few humans I know who strives for effective communication. Since almost everyone else I know reacts instantly instead of pausing before responding mindfully, makes negative assumptions rather than asking for clarification, uses snark and sarcasm instead of civility, and focuses more on the words than the emotions, it’s hard for me to avoid feeling disappointed and lonely.
Having seen since 2020 how cruel humans can be toward each other, and having seen since my dog Sawyer’s death how bad even caring humans tend to be at comforting those who are hurting, I’ve quadrupled my boundaries efforts. All the negativity that’s happened over the last four years and all the humans who have hurt me, misled me, or used me for their own purposes without showing any concern for me have got me feeling scared of humans in general. I won’t let any of that happen again, and boundaries are my primary defense against it. This applies to those close to me, complete strangers, and everyone in between. Most of the pain I’ve experienced has come from former friends and close acquaintances, so I don’t feel fully comfortable around those presently close to me since I never know who is going to turn on me and when. There has been enough pain from strangers to make me distrust those I don’t know, which makes it take longer for me to fully warm up to new folks. As such, I find the most peace when I’m alone or around friendly animals, especially dogs and cats.
Much of my life has alternated between being a doormat and a bulldozer. Even now, I still wonder at times if I feel bad after certain interactions because I went too far or if that’s just lingering guilt and shame that haven’t yet been released. Sometimes it helps to remember that even Marshall Rosenberg had limits. When he felt sufficiently overwhelmed, he would use a “nonviolent scream” to let those around him know he couldn’t interact anymore until he settled down and felt better. It’s comforting to know that those I admire and who have had a profoundly positive impact on my life are still human and sometimes need time to themselves.
All this has got me thinking that the ideas behind nonviolent communication comprise the highest level of communication and boundaries are the second-highest level. Much as I’d like to be able to use the nonviolent communication ideas more often, I take some comfort in the notion that consistently setting and maintaining proper boundaries in a loving way is still pretty high on the list and a far better approach than the most common approaches to difficult human interactions. If I’m in too much pain to hear the wants, feelings, and needs beneath someone’s cruel words, I’d rather remove myself from the situation than respond with cruelty. I hope that continuing to heal old emotional wounds and practicing both nonviolent communication and boundaries (ideally with my more patient friends) will dramatically reduce all these issues and make life better for everyone.