I ended my last blog entry (part 1) noting how the feeling of anger arouse in me as I was writing about the dynamic I share with my parent- well, this anger, whilst uncomfortable, has been incredibly useful.
It’s been useful as a signal, and a motivator for change.
So I shall begin this blog entry sharing why and how I learnt to set boundaries- and the necessity for them in order to survive a parent like this.
Boundaries: the why and how
Boundary setting is not something I had been taught-it is something however, that I have had to learn. But, before learning how to assert boundaries, I had to learn why I needed to.
Well, slightly tangential- but for many years I have questioned if I even want a relationship with my parent. I have been told countless times by relatives that I should, that they birthed me, that heaven lies beneath my parent’s feet…it’s a decision that I am still, truthfully, unsure of, and frequently oscillate between wanting one, and never wanting to see my parent again.
This is to say, why I had to implement boundaries is because, well, I think I want a relationship with this parent- I love this parent, but more importantly, I love myself.
I love little Amira,
and I will protect her to the best of my ability.
I can understand why my parent is the way they are, the hardships they’ve faced that have left them with wounds all over, and how, even in their most explosive, mean, nasty moments, they are hurting too.
But I have learned that it’s possible to understand this and still say no more.
I learnt how to hold both realities through many, many therapy sessions- when considering psychoanalytic work, this could be referred to as the ‘depressive position’ (Klein, 1940). I mention this because the phrasing ‘depressive’ really does resonate with what it felt like to hold both opposing realities- it was very hard and, quite depressing.
Yet, it was also incredibly freeing. It was in the therapy space that I got to share my perspective to an adult, and for the first time feel truly seen. They, gently, reaffirmed my experience of this dynamic which was… incredible, and something I’d not ever really had, especially not from my parent. On the contrary, my parent often contested my version of reality, told me I was to blame, and I would leave conflicts feelings confused, guilt ridden and distrusting of my own memory.
I believe this is may be a common experience for many people in these kinds of dynamics- the difficulty in deciphering what is yours to carry and what is theirs, especially when the parent lacks much self-awareness. So having an external, knowledgeable person to affirm that what I was feeling and experiencing was real- that was crucial.
Secondly, I had to strengthen my self compassion. This could easily be a whole other blog post, but learning to care for myself, to treat myself with love, to listen to myself- these are things I didn’t really do in my formative years. I struggled a lot with loving myself- I’d hurt myself a lot, I felt this innate sense of badness all the time- I joke with my partner that I’ve felt permanently guilty since like, 4. I’ve hypothesised that this feeling of badness was likely a result of projections from my parent, something I’ve seen in other young people who are in an enmeshed dynamic with a parent.
Anyway, I began building self-compassion. An example of how I began to nurture myself, was by changing my self-talk and habits- effectively I started to reparent myself.
For example, when I would look at myself in the mirror, instead of saying mean, horrible things I wouldn’t dare say to anyone else, I started to talk to myself the way I would talk to a loved one. Even more helpfully, I would try envision I was talking to said loved one. I’d tell myself, “I love you, Amira.” When I cried, I’d hug myself, stroke my arm, and say, I understand you. You’re safe. That kind of care, that kind of attention- though small, sometimes awkward and required much repetition, really did help change how I felt about myself.
As I said, this could be a whole blog post- maybe even a book… but in essence, building self compassion is what helped me set boundaries because… well, once I learned to love myself- I wanted to protect myself, and put myself first.
I believed for many years that I should be there for my parent, that it was selfish not to be. As I understood more and more about the environment I grew up in, and the anger I felt, I began to realise that I’m not (wholly) selfish, in fact, I hadn’t been taking care of myself at all- and now I will start.
The reality of boundaries
Inevitably when starting to request for change in a longstanding dynamic, there will be resistance- from both parties. When I first began setting boundaries intentionally, I was pretty shit at it. I’d let the push back happen, and crumble at first sign of resistance – because the very act of trying was extremely difficult and being rejected in the process was even harder. But, setting boundaries is like a muscle- the more I did it, the better I got, and the better it felt.
Here are a few examples of some boundaries I’ve communicated:
- I appreciate that you’re going through a tough time, but I cannot support you through this
- I will not tolerate being spoken to this way. If it continues, I will need to leave or stop replying
- I will come see you from this time till this time
- Let’s talk when we’re both calmer
Deciding when to implement these boundaries can be tricky, which is where the awareness of the pattern/cycle is imperative right? Alternatively, connecting with your emotions is a good barometer to assess where you need boundaries (i.e; my mentioning of anger as a signal). What I also found incredibly helpful and encouraging to set these boundaries, irrespective of the feedback from my parent, was to hone in on my compassionate, internal parenting voice, where I would repeat various kind mantras like: “it’s okay, you can leave if you need to”, “you’re not bad for wanting safety”, “be kind to yourself”.
Contact or no contact?: Life after boundaries
It is both liberating and painful to share that following the implementation of many boundaries over the course of some time, manifested into ‘no contact’.
See, having done much interpersonal work, becoming aware of my boundaries and having had much physical distance to my parent… how do I put it?
Well once I stepped away from the dynamic for long enough, and then would see it play out again, well, it looked a little… (pardon my un-therapeutic language) fucking insane.
And so, it is something I have had to consider, it is a decision I made- and then things got better, and recently, it is a decision I have had to make again (which actually prompted the writing of this two part blog entry)
What now?
Well, truthfully…I don’t know. Infact, I don’t know if I’ll always ‘survive’ this dynamic. I frequently oscillate between giving up on trying and desperately wanting it to work. This past year, there have been major healing moments for both me and my parent. Lots of revelations, reflections, and real improvements in how we interact with each other. I try to see them semi-frequently, I try keep my boundaries in place, and I spend time reflecting on how I respond so as not to contribute further to our cycle. I’ve been able to feel compassion for my parent like never before- not because they’ve told me I have to, but because I’ve chosen to.
With all this being said, I realised I’ve written over 2,000 words in totality, and I don’t know how much of it was useful in terms of how I deal with the dynamic… but this process has been incredibly cathartic, and I hope it’s been somewhat useful to you.
I don’t have it all figured out by any means. In fact, I’m writing this following a really hurtful emotional outburst from my parent, but I now have a hell of a lot more tools in my arsenal than I did as a child—and I know how to use them.
Further Reading + a video this time!
Klein, M. (1940). Mourning and its relation to manic-depressive states.
International Journal of Psychoanalysis, 21, 125-153
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ph_UqeiPtRY&list=PLQqC0o1nvdwEe7dOn5CJw0m4p1UnchJRh&index=5
My internal world 
Leave a comment