Emotional boundaries

On my morning walk recently, I got to thinking about how this year, all year, has been the twentieth anniversary of my emigration to the States. I realized that I have learned so much since arriving in Buffalo, and even more since our transition to Philadelphia four years ago. Indeed, I grew up in America - emotionally - and it does not matter that next year I will be sixty years old. I am learning new things all the time. As I walked along looking at the scenery and allowing my mind to wander, I found myself asking silently through my brain, what was the most important thing I learned since coming here. The answer rose up to greet me immediately, without hesitation: 

That emotional neglect in my childhood led to a confusion of emotional boundaries throughout my life. Since coming to America, I have learned about understanding and clarifying - tweaking at - some of them:

• What I need, how I need it
• What I give, how I give it 
• What I receive, how to receive it
• What I hear, how I hear it
• What I say, how I say it
• Who I love, how I love them 
• Emotional memory 
• Emotional space
• Emotional distance 
• Emotional availability 
• Intimacy
• Connections between emotional boundaries and sexuality

It was exciting for me, thinking about these things. Enormous energy seemed to rise up together with the realizations, and I felt as if I was flying high - my feet barely sensed the pavement under them. I arrived home rosy-cheeked and breathless. 

I must have crossed some kind of forbidden line, though, because as quickly as the energy rose, so it pulled back in fright, and I became light-headed and dizzy for the rest of the day. Feeling faint and nauseous, I lay down and withdrew inwards, nursing my fear. 

One more thing I have learned these past twenty years. Emotional boundaries are deep. They come from way, way back. Separating myself emotionally and crossing forbidden lines feels dangerous, and causes anxiety attacks. 

Twenty four hours later I felt stronger and less fear-full. As I walked along the tree-lined roads the following day, I thought of the expression: Pride comes before a fall. It reminded me of another one I had often heard growing up whenever people were raucously laughing, rough and tumble playing, or just having a really good time: Be careful! It will end in tears!

I wondered: When we are children, do the significant adults in our lives give us those warnings just to keep us in our place? Or do these warnings come from their own fears and past life experiences? 

Comments

[tamarika]

Ah, definitely! Parents' motives are certainly to prepare children for living successfully and safely in the world. And the desire is genuine at the deepest, most sincere level. The question I ask relates to whether their fears and life experiences are relevant and real for their children, who are born of different parents, in different family configurations, and at a different time/era.

[savtadotty]

I think parental warnings come from their/our own fears and past life experiences, which sometimes get amplified in a need to keep children in "their place," that is, under control of adults, but also can come from a genuine desire to prepare children for living the world.