I only vaguely remember the conversation that day despite the hours spent attempting to recall the specifics, still attempting to catch my breath as panic sets off in my brain. I believe it was the summer after my mentors had been instrumental in breaking off the relationship with the man who is now my husband, shattering it to pieces six days before he was going to ask my dad’s permission to court me. I returned home from Bible college an emotional wreck, having fallen in love only to have it ripped away. What I could not see was that my mentors were terrified of losing control, particularly the husband who likely could not let go of his sexual fantasies. We set up a list of rules for summer break ranging from rising early for devotions, to her husband having my Facebook and email passwords once again. I was not to contact the man I had fallen in love with, nor any friends from college because they were not part of that “ten percent” who “truly loved the Lord”. Mrs. Julie described it as a baby who is just starting to crawl. She starts off in the pack n’ play until she can prove that she is ready for a larger area to play in. She is later moved to a play pen where she has greater freedom within the boundaries. Eventually, as she learns to walk and proves that she can obey the rules, the boundaries are extended yet further.
When I first started with a new therapist in 2018, I also started equine therapy for a few months. The kind yet independent and assertive woman who worked with the horses hit on multiple triggers in my first session, beginning with an introduction to the horses where she spoke about having authority and being submissive. As we reached the smallest horse, who I called Short-Stuff in my head, she spoke of boundaries. She spoke of how after they learn to follow the rules in the smaller gate, then they can have freedom to ride and explore in the field. I wanted to run. I wanted to shut down. She attempted to ask me what I had learned that day, but my chest tightened preventing my breath. I remembered the pack n’ play. I remembered the play pen. I remembered the boundaries of not accessing the internet on my own, not singing harmony in church or playing any sort of instruments. I remembered not being able to go around and say hello to my church family, but how I had to sit there, still, and give an “honest” answer of how I was doing when people asked. I felt the humiliation and the fear.
Mrs. Julie and the horse therapist were both right: Boundaries are essential in life. What Mrs. Julie missed, however, is that we need HEALTHY boundaries. We need boundaries that limit how people can treat us, whether that be in their words or in physical force. We need boundaries in the standards that pastors and church members are allowed to impose on our lives (hint: they shouldn’t be allowed AT ALL!). We need boundaries even in families in terms of whether we want to be touched, including embracement and outward displays of affection at family gatherings. We need to learn to be assertive about those boundaries because the people who do not care will overstep every time. Fences aide in keeping the wolves and predators out. Boundaries are important, but they need to be healthy.
