Boundaries

"Your email kind of took the wind out of my sails," you said. "I guess you're not coming next week."

I could hear the sadness in your voice.

"No," I said. "I am trying to become a stronger person and move on from what you did to me, so I can't come."

"Did you feel overpowered?" you asked.

"I don't know how to respond to that," I replied. "I don't want to talk about how I feel with you."

"Oh, I see," you said softly.

I sat in my car as we talked and felt almost sick. I hate disappointing you. I hate hurting you. I know I'm hurting you, I know I'm excluding myself from the family, and I hate the thought of not being with my precious niece and nephews next week.

But I can't repeat the cycle. You apologize, saying you're sorry, but then the next time we interact you cry or act completely miffed when I say I don't want to talk about something.

Then I feel horrible about myself because I'm disappointing you, and I get anxious that I'm doing the wrong thing by protecting myself emotionally. You take the opportunity to make a few more jabs about how you can't do anything right with me, etc., and I feel even worse.

I end up feeling like the "selfish, self-centered person" you said I was, when really I'm just drawing boundaries you don't like.

Feeling selfish makes me feel worthless because I'm caught between trying to please you and listening to my own inner voice. If I can't trust myself, and if acting in a way that is authentic to whom I am is utterly selfish and wrong, I reason, I might as well not be here on earth. I'm just taking up space. I'm a blight on humanity.

I know it's irrational, but I can't seem to get it through my head that you are the unreasonable one. It is perfectly natural for a daughter to have boundaries with an abusive parent.

So I can't come because it's too costly for me. It took a week for me to feel able to care for myself after our last in-person interaction, and I can't afford that. I need to be moving forward, getting on with my life, working through all this junk so that I can function again.

I need to be preparing myself for the work force, not stuck in my bed because I'm feeling so bad about myself.

I'd like to be able to interact with you and maintain some semblance of normalcy, of inner equilibrium. Before I can do that, though, I have to arrive at a certain level of self-compassion for the way I feel about you, about myself, and about life. I have to do whatever work is necessary in order to stop caring what you think of me.

I don't know how I can do that. I only know that reading books, going to therapy, and spending time with friends who build me up are ways of replenishing my inner resources of hope and creativity.

I hope you'll understand. I wish I could tell you how hard this is for me. I wish you could know how much I want to take care of you, how much I worry that you will commit suicide if I pull away from you. You once told me that I needed you, but I think reality is, you need me.

Somehow I have to stop the enmeshment, the co-dependence, the whatever it is we have going on. Somehow I have to stop worrying about you and accept that I'm not responsible for you or your actions.

As an adult I am responsible for my own self-care. You are responsible for yours. Even though I don't understand who God is, I have to let Him handle your problems.

I have to protect my own heart, despite your manipulation. I do acknowledge that I don't think you mean to harm me; in fact, it's quite the opposite: You so want a close relationship with me that you will use any means necessary to control me.

As hard as you are trying to keep me close, I cannot let you control me anymore. I have to take care of myself before I can see you again.

I have to win the battle of the boundaries.