As of late, I have been learning a lot about boundaries, more from necessity than choice, through experience more than highlighting pages in a self-help book. A truth that has settled upon me is simple in thought but challenging in execution: I do not set boundaries with the expectation to change the behavior of another but to change my response to another’s behavior.
We can make the ground rules, but that does not mean others will follow them. People are responsible for their respective actions; most respond from a position of feelings depending on how a situation personally affects them. Many cannot see beyond their pain and discomfort to recognize and understand the pain and discomfort of another. This is human nature: our empathy reaches as far as our healing.
We must allow others to run through their course of behaviors while we plant our feet firmly inside the protection of healthy boundaries. This may mean allowing another to spin an inaccurate narrative, knowing that you will become entangled if you engage. Or, this could mean you move on without receiving the apology you deserve. Perhaps this looks like giving someone permission to think what they want about you, entrusting that in time they will come to know and accept the truth; if not, rest in the knowledge that it is beyond the scope of your responsibility to chase after people in an effort to defend yourself. We must choose to accept and own our faults while living forward in the redeemed life God has set before us. May we not be as concerned with defending our life as we are with living it.
One of the most difficult aspects I have learned regarding boundaries is that we should not subject ourselves to poor treatment just because we might lose someone. I confess that I have remained in unhealthy environments and conversations because I could: I kept the peace. I later realized that I had lost peace within myself while I was busy keeping the peace for others. In the undoing of me, I found a new beginning. I recognized what I was willing to give. Whether it be a spouse, adult child or grandchild, friend, or co-worker, we must realize there is a difference between what we can do and what we are willing to do.
God has elevated me through suffering. Like a seed struggling against the soil, I am beginning to feel the warmth of opening to a new view. This view does not cast blame; instead, this view casts attentive regard upon the Lord. I have learned the importance of forgiving others and myself. Forgiveness of self was the hardest thing for me. I had remained in conflict with myself for so long that my self-beratement had become an idol. In doing this, I basically told God that His forgiveness was not enough; that Jesus’ blood was not pure enough to cleanse me. Much was resolved when I allowed God to sift me from myself and replace my definition of peace with His peace and purpose.
Learning and healing are not linear, nor do they keep the same pace. Growth is often clumsy — very clumsy. For many years I carried baggage that was not mine to pick up. God showed me the luggage tag of what was weighing me down. My name was not on it. I have learned to love people where they are at without offering to perpetually carry their baggage.
My continued willingness to make allowances for others released them from accountability while transferring the blame to myself. As many can relate, a false sense of guilt can be tricky: thoughts can become prisons, and Satan loves to bang on the bars. I had become comfortable with my limp and stagger, carrying the criticisms and internal conflicts of others. When I let go, I was put off balance. I had to relearn how to walk steadily with my thoughts. “Relearn” is not entirely accurate: I had to learn how to find my voice within a culmination of every day I have lived, born of experience, bathed in grace, and lavished in God’s love. I unearthed my strength by allowing God to lead me through my weaknesses.
In this “unearthing,” I formed scars. Some are still tender; others have faded to the point that they are barely noticeable. When I examine what has cut me, I do not think myself strong because of what I have overcome. Trauma does not make someone strong. God’s provision, faithfulness, and protection have made me strong. There is a big difference.
A final note to those setting boundaries: There is a vast chasm between being caring and curious. Not everyone who takes an interest in you is caring. Some are simply nosey, curious to take note of your stumbles. Let them be curious in their own time. Stay your course. Your stumbles are not because you are walking through ruins. Your stumbles are because you left the ruins to walk upon an unfamiliar path. What they do not see is God holding your hand and Him paving the way with each step you take. God’s grasp is stronger than any criticism, gossip, or curiosity. Keep going. Then go some more… into healthier boundaries… into a healthier you. And as you go, you will notice less and less of what cuts you and more and more of Who heals you.
“And as they went, they were cleansed” (Luke 17:14).
Tiffany Kaye Chartier
SGLY, dear reader.
(Smile, God Loves You.)
Tiffany Kaye Chartier, Author 