Tag: boundaries

Yelly Writes

The blurred lines of grief

Yelly

Healing is not linear — and neither are boundaries. — Unknown

A few weeks after my return from my mother’s memorial service, I met up with a few friends. I thought it would be a good experience to be around people. But one person kept asking me what happened on my trip, how I was feeling, if I was okay now, and if I could move on now. Up until that point, I thought I would be okay being around people. I wasn’t. I wanted to scream at this person, and I wanted to run away and cry.

I didn’t, of course. I am thankful I bit my tongue and prayed for my tongue to stick to the roof of my mouth so I wouldn’t say anything I couldn’t take back. I knew this person did not have the capacity to understand the depth and heft of my grief, because they hadn’t experienced the death of a parent, and really, because we all deal with situations differently. They were approaching me and my experience in the way they would if they were in the same situation. I behaved differently around this person after that. I didn’t feel like we were occupying the same spaces anymore. I know I may have judged too harshly after that experience, but I had to step away. I was too hurt. I don’t think they realised that they had wounded me so deeply. At the time, I didn’t have the capacity to explain what I was going through (that’s on me completely), but I knew that if I had opened my mouth, I would be caustic and say things I couldn’t take back.

Grieving and healing are both processes that involve ebbs and flows, with twists and turns. I think boundaries are the same. They shift and stretch depending on a person’s growth and capacity

Everything is a work in progress.

Yelly Writes

No is a complete sentence

Yelly
@yellywelly

Over-explaining yourself is often a sign that you don’t yet believe you have the right to your own limits. — Unknown

I’ve been in so many situations where I’ve felt that I had to explain myself, whether I felt compelled to or whether I was made to, I’ve found myself defending my decisions. It has been an automatic response and I always thought it was because, growing up, I was being taught accountability. Because when asked, I (was made to believe) had to be able to explain myself, I had to be able to articulate my answers to why questions. I’ve always joked that I had an overdeveloped sense of responsibility and I know inside me there’s this little girl still deathly afraid of disappointing people.

As I’ve been going through this healing journey, I’m starting to learn that apart from the fight or flight response that humans have, trauma survivors have a freeze or fawn response. The trauma is something else to unpack entirely and I’m not laying blame on anyone. I know I need to deal with it eventually. But I don’t think that day is today. I do understand and recognise that I fawn more than I freeze. I think I understood early on in my life that I needed to be hyper-compliant and that I had to learn to how to quickly soothe and please other people to diffuse potentially volatile situations, avoid conflicts and be safe. Part of this was me explaining my decisions, justifying my actions and answering the why questions to appeal to reason. I somehow believed that it was my responsibility to do that.

Sometimes you don’t necessarily owe anyone else an explanation because it doesn’t matter if you have a perfectly good reason for your decisions. And, sometimes you don’t have to say anything more than no. No is sometimes the only thing you have to say because it’s a complete sentence. You don’t have to explain why your boundary is where it is. They won’t necessarily explain themselves to you. So let them set that boundary, and you can also act accordingly.

Yelly Writes

The art of not chasing

Yelly

Sometimes you have to decide to just stop. Stop being available. Stop being considerate. Stop initiating. Stop chasing. Remember not everyone is for you and you are not for everyone. If they want to leave, let them.

Yelly Writes

Protecting my sense of contentment

Yelly

I know our relationships are meant to be safe spaces where we should be allowed to say anything we want, how we want to say things, when we want to say things. And for the most part, it’s true. Our relationships should offer us a place where we are able to express ourselves, where we can whinge and be brutally honest about how we feel.

I love a good whinge! It’s nice to be able to complain about something to someone and hear the agreement or the quiet chuckle because they get how we feel about something, someone, the state of the world and the lack of common sense in most things in general. There is a sense of validation in knowing that you’re not alone in feeling the way you do.

I am finding, lately, the constant whinge in some friendship circles to be fairly tiresome. I find myself rolling my eyes at yet again another statement about the stupidity of things or people, or gritting my teeth at a negative slant in expressing an opinion about something. I’m not surprised though, because life in general has been difficult and with the general state of things everywhere, it can be difficult to make like the Monty Python boys and look at the bright side of life. I get that completely. It’s just that sometimes, I wonder, is it really THAT bad ALL the time?

I also get that most people aren’t aware of the negativity in how they structure their statements (both written and verbal) and in their communication style. I understand that is a “them” issue and not a me issue. It is a them outlook problem and not a me outlook problem. I have, hopefully, in the past expressed the desire to look at the positive angle in things, hopefully repeatedly, and whether or not that is noticed or acknowledged is again a “them” issue.

I have always tried to be balanced in terms of my view in life – there is a positive and there is a negative. Life can be difficult and unfair sometimes, but I have always had the desire to look on the flipside. Because, while life is difficult, there are small pockets of joy. These moments of light allow us to appreciate what we have and not what is missing. When we focus on what we have, and not what’s missing, then we feel contentment.

Lately, despite adversity, I’ve found contentment to be the best way forward. It’s not denying how bad things are, it’s just appreciating that despite the bad things that have happened, there is still a lot of good.

I have promised myself to protect this sense of contentment – to the extent of allowing myself to cull certain elements of conversation, limit reactions and interactions in certain relationships. I get that these are just speaking out, and letting off steam. I get that. In the same vein, I do not want to be exposed to negativity. In the same way that these people are letting off steam so that they protect their equilibrium, I am also limiting my exposure to the noxious fumes of negativity that endanger my own equilibrium. We all have to do what we can to survive this jungle!