Cue it up to 2003—Snap’s song, The Power.  All the moves are bustin—all the people in their falsetto claiming: I got the power!!! Does anyone else forget this isn’t a Markey Mark song, or is that just me???  This morning when I was pondering over all the boundaries work I’ve already done, and all the boundaries work I have still to do, this song kept running through my head on repeat.  I got the power! 

It’s gettin, it’s gettin, it’s gettin kinda hectic

It’s gettin, it’s gettin, it’s gettin kinda hectic

For a moment, I had to say Hey Siri, Play The Power by Snap, and had a little dance intermission before sharing my thoughts.  Dance-floor meditation is good for the soul…. 

Boundaries have been a hard thing for me to grasp.  Yes, I know, it’s an elementary concept, but I was apparently absent the day they handed out boundaries.  I have zero boundary skills.  You might as well be speaking Chinese to me.  

I mean, I *thought* I had boundaries (just like I *think* I speak French well)….until I started counseling, and realized I hadn’t even scratched the surface of intentional boundaries.  For me, boundaries were about spending your time intentionally, and I had that down.  I’ve been good about saying no to extra responsibilities when I don’t have the bandwidth or when I don’t have the resources to do something.  That didn’t come easy to me, but I had some success I was proud of.  

The thought that having even more boundaries wasn’t attractive to me.  I mean , I was great at boundaries with my kids (I possibly was the strictest mom on planet Earth), and really tried to be intentional about having my yes be yes and my no be no.  

Why is it then that my therapist keeps telling me I need some boundary work?  Perhaps all therapists tell that to all of their therapees….. Is it a catch all?  Is it really that big of a deal?  I felt as if suggesting I needed boundaries was going to make me into a joyless, regimented, self-serving, shell of a person.  Yes—I was that resistant.  

All this talk about having even more boundaries seemed a bit uptight and uncaring.  Kind of like:  I’m just gonna do me and I really don’t want to get involved with anything you need—but hey let’s grab some coffee tomorrow and go on a walk.  That is totally not my vibe.  Boundaries were for hyper-regimented soccer moms and hippies who smelled like wheatgrass and took lots and lots of supplements.  I mean I had some boundaries but living a life full of them was just not my M-O.  

How can I be bright, sparkly Becky and be spontaneous–and love people–and care deeply–and have wide-eyed wonder at the world and have these clunky boundaries in the way?  How can I do life in a relational way amidst the speed bumps that boundaries would put in my path?  Those boundary obstacles are going to slow me down in my tendency to throttle all-in Speed Racer!  Counting the cost seems so unromantic—so un-BFF like.  I have grace—I give grace—I can handle hurt—I’m going to outgive everyone emotionally.  Isn’t that what I am here to do—to love everyone the same—the same as I love myself—no matter the cost?  

It’s gettin, it’s gettin, it’s gettin kinda hectic.  

Cue fifteen months of emotional repair from the rubble of divorce.  Some friends are not as engaged anymore now that I don’t live in the neighborhood.  Some have chosen sides and are definitely not Team Becky (shocked I know!).  My insecurities creep in and set up camp.  I vacillate between wanting my privacy and wanting to detail every little hurt to everyone everywhere so they would understand my side of things. I can’t even start to address the feeling of being divorced twice—it feels like a giant failure in so many ways. I see the looks on people’s faces when they find out I’ve been down that road for a second time. It’s a big Ohhhhh….. Where do I go from here?  Interactions at restaurants/festivals,/fun places get awkward as a party of one.  I certainly do NOT want round 3 of the same.  I’m Tapping Out—not risking it…but where does that put me?  Lonely?  How do I navigate new relationships when I have only three settings:  tapped out, lukewarm, or all-in-baby.  I’m like a 1980s crock pot:  no medium, no number dial—just high-low-off.  

You could break my heart—you could break my heart

You could break my heart—you could break my heart

I got the Power! 

Enter Boundaries.  

Here’s what I am learning, dear hearts.  Boundaries are about who you give internal access to.  They aren’t walls—they aren’t meant to punish.  They aren’t meant to lock me away like the princess in the tower to keep me from ever getting hurt again.  Relationships are risky even with boundaries.  They aren’t there to insulate me from a connected life.  Boundaries give me a mechanism to give the most emotional access to the people who are responsible with it.  The purpose IS to let people in—just the right people.  The others can circle around on whatever level they are comfortable and responsible with—or perhaps they lose all their tokens and game over.  The function of a boundary is to create a safe space to be authentic and vulnerable with people who will do life with you.  

I know I know—I feel like an encyclopedia salesman here giving a pitch—a sales person of the Wonder Cleaner—the only cleaning spray you’ll ever need.  It does everything for you….Boundaries….here for only 19.99 plus shipping and handling.    

How do boundaries work, you ask?  Well, let me show you how to operate boundaries 2.0 (which is the level I am on – entry level 2).

Boundaries aren’t a door—like you are in or you’re out.  It’s more like a level—a dimension—like on Zelda.  You meet someone and think: hey this is a really cool person, they get access to some of my time to hang out.  Then, are they responsible with my feelings?  Do they do what they say they are going to do?  Are they truthful?  Are they kind?  Do we have things in common we can relate to? As I get to know them better, they get more access to my time, my resources, my emotions, and eventually my most vulnerable places—or they continue in their orbit of book friends, fun friends, go out to dinner friends, dance party friends, work friends, all of which are awesome. It’s not less than–it’s just where we are as friends. Every friend relationship may not evolve into sleepovers sharing our deepest secrets while drinking rosé and playing Truth or Dare. I’m okay with that.

People might move in and out of access levels.  It’s not all or nothing—that’s where I got caught up in the past–especially with romantic relationships.  I’d get a gut feeling and then they’d get the power-up button to transport them all the way to Inner Circle land where they wreak havoc with my heart, I’d realize they weren’t who I thought they were,  and I don’t know how to transport them back.  And I feel stuck.  Again. 

For me, if the lady next to me at the red light gives me the finger, it wrecks my morning.  What the heck did I do to her?  I spend the next hour (1) saying she’s crazy (2) going over my entire drive to see what I could have done to tick her off and (3) hoping she’s not my neighbor.  She just had power over my whole morning that she should not have had—and she was absolutely oblivious to that fact. I gave her the power to occupy my mind past 30 seconds.

If someone hurts my feelings by not inviting me somewhere, saying something which hurt my feelings, or ghosts me, I have so freakin many conversations in my head about it.  I write entire movie scripts in my head about it.  I plan my next move and counter move for them to remember how amazing I am—or to ignore them more than they ignore me (while still playing my movie conversations on repeat).  By not having a conversation about my feelings with that friend, I have perpetuated a narrative in my mind–a narrative on repeat for days, weeks, and maybe months. Instead of allowing them to have power over the way I interact with them (and possibly my friends who were with them), perhaps I need to put them in a different level of friendship—the Hey I’m Glad When They Invite Me and I’m Glad to See Them from Time to Time But We Aren’t Besties Level. I’m divesting in worrying about when and if they invite me to anything. I’ve taken back my own power. I’m not mad at them, and they are still my friend, but they don’t have the ability to hurt my feelings so much that I change how I act, what I meditate on, how I feel.

If I share something in confidence with a friend, and suddenly 10 more people know about it, I feel awkward.  What else have they shared?  What was said about me?  Did I hurt someone’s feelings?  Do they think I am a drama queen—a victim?  I just saw them on the socials all together—what does that mean?  Why didn’t they ask me? Am I in the Burn Book now?  So – if this happens on the regular with that person, then they aren’t responsible with my confidential sharing. So I don’t share anything with them I don’t want shared with other people and the friendship is still in tact (if I want it to be). Even better would be to first have a conversation with them and let them know what I shared was confidential and how that made me feel when it got out. That’s definitely next level stuff…..but if we want authentic relationships, that’s the path.

All this time, emotional energy, and effort spent dissecting every nuance—trying to manage what people think of me—worrying about what they think—is that effort productive?  Is it helping me grow to the woman I’m supposed to be?    Time and effort are investments.  Am I investing wisely?  Is there a way to step off that ride and try something different? 

So how does a girl who never had meaningful boundaries in her life deal with being a people pleaser, a fixer, and being devastated that someone….anyone is disappointed in her?  

Here are some questions I ask myself: 

Who gets the power to hurt my feelings? 

Who gets the power to wreck my day? 

Who gets the power to make me respond with a text even though I’m out with my friends? 

Who gets the power to make me angry?  Or get me riled up? 

Who gets the power to have me respond in a way I am not proud of? 

Who gets to summon my star-aligning, people pleasing super powers. 

If their name is not on that list—or if the answer to that question is no one, then don’t hand the power over to them.  They do not have it unless we give it to them.  Period.  

Who gets the power to hurt my feelings?  My besties have that power—I am close enough to them that they could very well do that—even unintentionally.  Who gets the power to wreck my day?  My kiddos, my closest family, my good friends.  If there’s something important going on, my day is on the table.  I will cry with them—I will be there.  Absolutely no one has the power to make me respond in a manner I will not be proud of.  Yes, I still hand over the ring of power at times in a weak moment, but on the regular, I will not betray my integrity in order to win an argument—to feel better about myself.  

The Newsflash! for me was I don’t have to give just anyone power to speak in my life.  Not everyone gets a vote.  If they are not responsible with my feelings, then they don’t continue to have access to the power to hurt my feelings.  It’s a mind shift.  I can still care about them, and hang out with them, and enjoy the heck out of their company, but they don’t get all-in Becky.  I don’t have to bare my soul and be vulnerable with them if they are going to trample on me—OR (big one for me) if they haven’t been around long enough to determine whether or not they can be responsible with the important things.  I don’t have to tell them secrets or share my frustrations with them if they aren’t able to care for and about them in a reliable way.  They are still my friends, but maybe on level 5, 6 or 7.  And you know what, they may very well be fine with that anyway—that might be the perfect role for them.  It’s not like you have to announce the levels like a video game>>Wah Wah you are now level 4 (loser)—Stars and Fireworks>>You are now a level 8 friend.  

They are all friends/acquaintances/people you do life with, but they don’t all get to have the same access. That Is a boundary.  Paying attention to how much emotional power you give to someone.  Or financial power, or time power.  With the most access comes the most risk, so choose those inner relationships wisely.   

If your X texts you nasty comments over the weekend—you know what—you already know what level of responsibility they have with your feelings in your current life.  Don’t give them the power to disrupt your evening—to make your heart pound in frustration—to cause you to justify yourself and get defensive—and they certainly do NOT get the power to make you respond in a snarky way.  Just stop yourself and say no Marky Mark—you don’t have the power because that isn’t even your freakin song…. 

When they get all big and blustery and spewing negativity, do I have to engage with that?  Do I have to emotionally invest in that?  Now, if I was a jerk, and this is God convicting me that one should not be a jerk to other people, that’s a different story. But if he’s just ticked because little Johnny told him you bought a fancy new Kate Spade bag, and is now chiding you because he’s paying child support that he thinks you aren’t “grateful” for…..well, that really has zero to do with you—so sister, don’t give him that power to suck you in.  Because he’ll feel better and then you’ll end up feeling exhausted for the umpteenth time because there’s just no winning with him.  He doesn’t get the power to draw you in that conversation. 

If your challenging client sends you yet another email making you feel like a failure—that you did something wrong—even though this situation has zero to do with you—real it back, sister.  Let them share, but don’t engage with it emotionally—they don’t get the power to make you doubt yourself—they don’t get the power to make you feel less-than.  

The beautiful thing is (at least for me) is that all this effort putting people in their proper power places on my boundary scale is giving me to space and the opportunity to look at who gets to be my all-in gang.  Who do I tell my secrets to?  Who gets the major efforts?  Now that I’m not putting out all the fires and getting my heart bruised over and over—now that there’s some space for healing, I get the pleasure of inviting people in on a deeper level than I thought possible.  I can be vulnerable where I was once protective.  I can be me—fully me—because they are trustworthy.  

Here’s the other beautiful thing.  That big Boundary word which seemed so constricting and complicated and uncaring, is freeing you.  You keep your power and invest it in those who will give big returns.  And then your heart heals and you can dive even deeper into authentic, vulnerable relationships.  

It’s a work in progress, dear hearts.  

Next: The Turtle and The Fixer