Your Ultimate Guide to Boundaries: What they are and why you need them. Especially after his affair

Setting boundaries means getting clear on what behaviours are okay and what's not okay. Integrity is key to this commitment because it's how we set those boundaries and ultimately hold ourselves and others accountable for respecting them.... Integrity is choosing courage over comfort; choosing what is right over what is fun, fast, or easy; and choosing to practice our values rather than simply professing them."
~Brené Brown, from Rising Strong: The Reckoning. The Rumble. The Revolution.

Ooooh boy. Boundaries. What a confusing concept for so many of us trying to figure out what the hell happened in our marriage and just how we can begin to feel safe again. If there's anything that will bring our boundaries (or lack of) into sharp focus, it's being betrayed.
Pre-betrayal, my boundaries, if I'd known enough to pay attention to them, were telling me in a hundred different ways that my marriage felt unfair. My anger and resentment were clear cues that my feelings and my actions did not match up. What did I do? I tried to talk myself out of my feelings: I was probably expecting too much. Why couldn't I ever just be happy? After all, he was better than a lot of husbands I knew.
Big mistake. By ignoring my own boundaries, I was disrespecting myself, which gave everyone else permission to do the same. Good old Elle! She won't mind! 
But when my husband cheated on me and didn't walk out but rather begged me to try and rebuild our marriage, I realized that the old marriage was not an option. If I was going to stay and work through this shitstorm that he'd created, I was going to darn well get something good out of it. Not just him but a new improved him and a new improved me and a new improved marriage in which I was not doing everything for everyone and hiding behind a bitter smile.
So...boundaries.
I hadn't a clue what they were and why I needed them. I had considered myself something of a badass independent woman. I ran marathons. I ran my own business. I had friends, men and women, of my own. I travelled solo all over the world. Plus...I was nice. Nice is good, right?
Turns out, not so much. Nice is good when you have clear boundaries and the ability to state your needs unequivocally. Nice is good when it doesn't stop you from being not-nice when your boundaries are getting trampled on.
For me, nice was a way of paying for others' positive attention with my self-worth. 
The baby's crying at 3 a.m. and I'm exhausted? Oh well, honey, you sleep. I'm awake anyway. 
You need to work late again and I'm on deadline? That's okay. I'll just work when the kids are asleep. 
This wasn't about compromise. This was about me playing the martyr. This was about acquiescence and total disrespect for myself. I was so invested in being a good sport, in being that great supportive wife who never really asks for anything because, well, whatever you want to give me is probably swell.
Being nice (which is a "nice" way of saying "pleasing people) often gets in the way of having and enforcing boundaries.
Post betrayal? Screw nice. I want to be heard. And respected. And so...boundaries.
(What's especially interesting for me is that I'm able to be far nicer now that I respect my own boundaries. It's impossible to be kind when resentment is seeping out of your pores. Your words might sound "nice" but your actions will be passive-aggressive.)

So, let's outline what boundaries are...and are not. Boundaries are basically your rules for your life. Brené Brown calls them an act of compassion for yourself. They're about respecting what you need to be able to be your best self. To feel safe. To feel valued. To feel heard.
Boundaries are not about controlling others. It's not a boundary to say, "I think eating meat is cruel so everybody around me must eat vegetarian." It IS a boundary to say "I think eating meat is cruel so when I prepare a meal, I will only prepare vegetarian." In the first, you're trying to control what others do. In the second, you're simply controlling what you do.
But boundaries in the wake of betrayal get a bit blurry because we're asking for our partners to really respect what we need...and it might look a lot different than what we need in a healthy relationship that hasn't been marked by infidelity. A healthy post-betrayal boundary is: Your dishonesty has made me feel unsafe in this relationship. I need to know that you are where you say you are and you are with whom you say you are in order to begin rebuilding trust. This is why many of us implement a system of checks in order to confirm our partner's whereabouts or contacts.
In a faithful relationship, I think monitoring each others' whereabouts is controlling and creepy. Post-betrayal, however, it's a way to rebuild trust. As time goes on, the vigilance should decrease. Again, it's about respecting your need for safety and assurance, not controlling your partner.
But this aspect of control can become problematic. And I hear often on this site about partners who've cheated becoming angry at being "controlled" by these post-betrayal boundaries. I get it. It must suck to be monitored. It must feel humiliating to have to come home right after work instead of stopping for a beer with friends. But the way I see it, a partner who's cheated has a lot to make up for. This isn't about paying penance, it's about supporting a loyal partner who's been deeply hurt and whose boundaries take priority right now. Not always...but right now. Compromise and negotiation can come later. Right now, it's about healing.
Here's the thing: I believe that those of us who've been betrayed should get to set the rules for reconciliation. My heartbreak, my rules. That's boundaries. But while we're still getting our feet wet regarding boundaries, many of us aren't so likely to enforce those rules. So it's important to establish boundaries early on that set us up for success, not failure.
What I mean by this is, establish boundaries that empower you. And give a lot of careful thought to what the consequences are if those boundaries are violated.
There's been some talk on another thread of this site around wanting partners to read certain books. And the partners haven't done it. Rather than feeling empowered by stating boundaries, the betrayed wives are feeling resentful. They stated their boundary (I need you to build empathy for my experience by reading this book) and their partners are being wishy-washy or outright refusing to.
If boundaries are new to you, you're going to get pushback. So you might need to practice a few times in the mirror. When you won't _______, I feel _______. And then...nothing.
Boundaries aren't about controlling him, they're about taking care of yourself. If he won't support you in your healing, then find support anywhere else you can. Therapy. Web sites. Books. Trusted friends.
No matter how anyone else in the world responds to your suffering right now, you can respect your own feelings. You can tell yourself  that you matter. You can orchestrate your healing.
If he wants to join you and support you, that's wonderful. He can start by respecting your boundaries.
But – and this is important – if he's refusing or reluctant to support you in your healing, then perhaps he's telling you loud and clear that you don't matter. You can't make someone respect you. But you can show him what respect and compassion looks like by giving it to yourself.

What are boundaries and why do I need them?

Any regular visitor to this site knows that I (and some other BWCers) tend to bang on about "boundaries". As in, "you need to set clear boundaries", "this is a chance to make some boundaries", "he's not respecting your boundaries" and so on. And yet, before I found myself spilling my life story to a therapist and learning from her about boundaries, I wouldn't have had a clue what boundaries were. And Lord knows, they weren't part of my life tool kit.
Here's what Oxford has to say about boundaries: 

A limit of something abstract, especially a subject or sphere of activity:a community without class or political boundaries

Here's what Brené Brown says about setting boundaries:

Daring to set boundaries is about having the courage to love ourselves, even when we risk disappointing others. 

From our first definition, we're told that boundaries are abstract. They're the metaphorical line we draw around ourselves to keep ourselves safe. Or rather, they're the metaphorical line we need to draw around ourselves to keep ourselves safe. Most of us don't have that line, or we've been socialized to let people cross it all the time. And rather than enforce it, we swallow our resentment or chastise ourselves for being selfish. Sometimes, we don't even realize it's happening because it's been so long since we had boundaries. But hold on...I'm getting ahead of myself.

What do I mean by "safe"? Boundaries are those lines we create, often subconsciously or by modelling those around us when we're growing up, that allow us to feel safe in this world. They're the lines that, when crossed, make us feel uneasy or threatened. A friend asks to "borrow" our doll but we don't trust her to return it (or we simply don't feel like loaning our doll) so we tell her 'no'. That's a boundary. A parent breaks a promise to take us for ice cream and then tells us to stop being so selfish with our whining because he/she was busy making money to put food on the table. Instead of swallowing our disappointment, we express it in straightforward words. 'I feel disappointed when you don't keep your promises.' That's a boundary. A boyfriend tells us he'd like to take our best friend to a dance because we're out of town. We say 'no, that makes me uncomfortable.' That's a boundary.
Thing is, most of us violate our own boundaries. And, over time, we forget we ever had any.
And so we're still up at midnight baking cookies for a child's class party. We're rescheduling an important meeting because our husband won't stay home with a sick child. We're getting our car back from our teen and the gas tank is empty.
Or...We find out our husband has cheated on us and begging for a second chance. But...he doesn't want to share the details of the affair or the phone passwords because it's a violation of his privacy.
Boundaries.
Our boundaries need to be in place in order to keep us safe.
Our boundaries make it clear that we respect and love ourselves enough to draw clear lines about what we will and will not tolerate in our lives.
Our boundaries make the conditions for reconciliation unequivocal. There's no room for misunderstanding or misinterpretation.
Our boundaries generally include the following:
•There is to be absolutely no contact with affair partner going forward. A letter/text/whatever to that effect is to be sent with the wife copied on it. It needs to state, in no uncertain terms, that the relationship is over, there is regret for having had one in the first place, and that there will be no contact in the future. Full stop.
•If the affair partner tries to re-establish contact, the betraying spouse will immediately tell the betrayed spouse. He will not respond. He will not keep any secrets for the affair partner.
•The betraying partner will provide any/all passwords so that the betrayed partner can check and verify when desired that there is no contact. We know this is hardly perfect (we're not idiots; we know about disposable cell phones, secret e-mails, etc.) but it helps in re-establishing any sort of trust.
•We expect that our questions (asked as respectfully as possible given that we're fighting the urge to bash our husbands over the heads with a shovel) will be answered with full honesty. We have the right to know the full contents of our partner's hearts in order to determine what we're dealing with and how we might respond.
•The betraying partner will be tested to ensure he doesn't have any STDs.
That's the initial list. You can certainly add your own, which might include "no more out-of-town meetings until trust is re-established." Once you get in touch with what you need to feel safe (or safer, as safety will feel relative in the early days post D-Day), you'll be able to establish your own.
As time goes on and we begin to heal from this betrayal, boundaries continue to keep us safe. They allow us to keep that toxic "friend" at arm's length even though she urges more contact. They allow us to say 'no' to commitments that drain us, physically and emotionally. They allow us to reconnect with a basic self-respect that far too many of us have lost. Boundaries are about self-care, not selfishness, and don't let anyone convince you otherwise.
Brown's caveat is crucial to remember: We need to enforce our boundaries even when doing so might disappoint (or frustrate) others. Remember this because if you're not a longtime boundary setter, you are absolutely going to get pushback. You'll get pleading (oh c'mon, we really need you right now. It won't take long...), you'll get anger or aggression (I thought you were my friend but clearly you're not), you'll get sulking (whatever. Do what you want. I don't care). Recognize this as simply the actions of people invested in keeping your boundaries fuzzy, or non-existent. Stick to your boundaries anyway. It will feel sooooooo uncomfortable. You'll feel sweaty. And anxious. Do it anyway. Your head will pound with the sound of your unfamiliar words. Do it anyway. You'll feel terrified that you're going to be left. Do it anyway. People who only stay with you because you make it easy aren't worthy enough for you.
Boundaries aren't about manipulation. They're not about control or getting even or hurting others. They're about NOT hurting yourself. They're about ensuring that all your relationships are free of resentment because you're not doing anything or putting up with anything that makes you resentful.
And if they're not in your toolbox, you need to add them. They're critical to your future happiness.

B is for...Boundaries

"We cannot simultaneously set a boundary and take care of another person's feelings."
~Melody Beattie, author 

Boundaries continue to confuse the hell out of us, don't they? If there's one thing on this site that seems to trip so many of us up, it's boundaries. (Though I'm not commenting so much, I still read your comments and you warrior women never fail to make me proud to be among you.) Boundaries seem selfish. They seem dictatorial. They seem unfair.
They're not. And Melody Beattie, best known for her books about co-dependency (that's another term that a lot of us instinctively recoil from), makes it clear when she says that boundaries are about self-care. Nothing more, nothing less. They are about keeping ourselves safe.
My daughter's friend was recently kicked out of her home. She's 18. She did nothing wrong, unless you count forgetting to make her bed now and again. It's the second time she's been kicked out – the first time she was put in foster care at 12 with her twin brother because they fought too much.
This girl's mother deserves my award for shittiest mother of the year, however, I'm conscious of the fact that we love others the best way we know how. I'm trying hard to practice compassion. I don't doubt that this mother loves her daughter. It's just that her love is toxic.
And so this girl has the monumental challenge of reconciling her love for her mother with her pain at being rejected.
Boundaries.
That's where boundaries come in.
Somehow this girl needs to come to a place where she can acknowledge her love for her mom while still keeping herself emotionally safe. And she gets to decide what those boundaries look like. For instance, she might love her mother while at the same time deciding that she can't have her mother in her life right now. Or it might look like the occasional phone call. Who knows. But it's about this girl's self-care not her mother's feelings.
And that's your challenge too.
Your partner betrayed your trust. Setting boundaries isn't about penalizing him, it's about self-care. It's about deciding what you need to begin to feel safe in your marriage again. Maybe that looks like access to his phone and computer log. Maybe it looks like regular check-in calls. Maybe it includes his commitment to a 12-step program or weekly therapy. Maybe it's about physically separating.
Whatever it looks like, it's your decision. They're your boundaries. It's about your self-care, your safety, and your right to feel safe with the people you've allowed into your life.
It isn't about penalties, manipulation or selfishness.
He might not like it. He probably won't, especially if you've been someone who hasn't, historically, enforced (or even had) boundaries in the past. It can be hard for your partner to realize that things are going to be different.
But remember what Beattie says: you cannot set boundaries and worry about another's feelings at the same time.
It's not that his feelings don't matter. It's that they're not yours. His job is to take care of his feelings. Your job is to take care of yours.
A key part of boundary setting is letting go of the outcome. This isn't about controlling another, it's about ensuring your own safety. You might not like how the other person responds to your boundaries.
But that doesn't mean you should back down. It means that you're with someone who doesn't respect your boundaries, who prefers the old you who puts others feelings above your own.
Learning a new behaviour is tough, especially if you've been taught for years that self-care is selfish, that boundaries are manipulation.
But it gets easier with practice. And it's crucial to your emotional health, to your healing.
Safety. Self-respect. Self-care.
Boundaries.

Boundaries Are About You. Just You.

I recently had one of those "a-ha moments" reading an e-mail that quoted Brené Brown's wise words on boundaries. That they are simply "what is okay and what is not okay."
And what I suddenly realized is that the missing words are "for you." And that, my soul-warriors, is what trips us up. Too often we think that our boundaries are not only what is okay and what is not okay but that others need to agree with us about what is okay and what is not okay.
And so we get talked out of our boundaries.
It might go something like this: It is not okay for my chronically late friend to keep me waiting. Next time it happens, I'm going to give her five minutes and then I'm going to leave and go on with my day. 
We set our boundary. It is not okay to keep me waiting. If we're feeling super-mature, we tell our friend: If you are late again, I'm going to wait five minutes and then I'm going to leave.
And then this happens: Our friend gets defensive. Our friend tells us how busy she is. Our friend insists that she's rarely late. Our friend reminds us of the time we were late. Our friend suggests that a true friend accepts others just as they are. And so on.
Or, just as we're leaving, our friend arrives breathless and sees us with our coat on and our purse and our keys in hand. I got caught in traffic, she says. Or I got stuck at work. The babysitter was late. Why are you in such a hurry? What are you being so hard on me? I suppose you're never late? And so on.
And our boundaries, that felt so firm, suddenly feel squishy. They feel selfish. They feel awful. And the critic in our head starts up: You're not perfect so what gives you the right to be so hard on others? You've been late before. What makes your time more valuable than theirs. And so on.
What felt so simple and so clear – What is okay and what is not okay – is reframed in our own heads as selfish and rigid.
And, then, for many of us, we give in. Or we at least get into a discussion, as if our boundaries were negotiable.
They're not.
What is okay and what is not okay is not negotiable. They are our boundaries. Their purpose is to keep us emotionally and physically safe. What's more, they keep a relationship healthy. They keep us free of resentment, that poison that seeps into the cracks of a relationship and makes it toxic.
You know the feeling. The one where you've been talked out of your boundaries and so you sit back down with your late friend but you're seething with resentment as she chatters on about her life. Or you agree with your husband that you're being hard on him by insisting that he sleep on the couch when, really, all he did was have a lunch meeting with a woman in his office, who's actually old and unattractive and he would never ever cheat on you again anyway so why are you making such a big deal about this. And while he's congratulating himself on convincing you that it wasn't such a big deal after all, you're fuming because you feel violated, yet again, and you feel that you've betrayed yourself, yet again.
Yep, that feeling.
And that's the thing with boundaries. They are about self-care. They are about self-respect. Those who can't see that – who instead make it their mission to convince us that our boundaries are negotiable – aren't interested in respecting us. What they want is to control us. To keep us pliable. To keep us doubting.
Remember: Boundaries are what is okay and what is not okay. You get to decide for yourself. And it doesn't matter if anyone else agrees with you. Your boundaries might shift over time but they should shift only because you've decided to shift them, not because someone else has demanded that you do. For one person, being kept waiting is not okay. For another, time is a relative construct. There is no right and wrong. There is only what is okay and not okay for you.

Guest Blog: B is for Boundaries

by Merri


Growing up, boundaries in my family were usually expressed as something applied through objects.  "That's my cookie! Give it back," or "Don't wear those pants," were typical of the kinds of boundaries we expressed.

When it came to family intimacy, boundaries were commands with some personal message thrown in, usually barked-out by a more powerful parent. "Be nice to you sister or I'll send you to your room. I've got a headache."

The choice was to either buy into the boundary or be tossed out of the game. Parental needs were considered first and a child's specific need was not seen as important unless it served the parent. There was little room for discussion.

Which is why marrying a man with even fewer personal boundaries than I had was not a stretch for me...in fact it felt pretty comfortable. We both hated the rigid do-as-I-say thing and the feeling we were both invisible and/or powerless in a relationship. I longed for equal status and a voice in my own life, he longed for peace and an evening without getting clobbered.  We believed that having no real boundaries would get us there.

A relationship without boundaries brings lots of emotional flexibility into the dynamic – not to mention ambiguity. This quiet collusion we built felt like trust...because heck, we never challenged the thinking going on...we just trusted it. This loose framework helped both of us believe everything was always fine, and allowed us to build a big fantasy world where life was always good. Quietly sucking up any pain (or maybe drowning it with Scotch) was a private, individual activity to be done in brief moments of personal freedom. Finding "self" moments became a frantic game of cat-and-mouse – with a touch of guilt thrown in if discovered. Personal doubts festered and grew alongside negative behaviour we usually disclosed to outsiders.

Living a fantasy is not sustainable. I often felt like I was driving down the highway backwards, pretending the joy ride was fun, swallowing my fear.  When the crisis came to a head, I first  tried to use boundaries as my concrete line drawn in the sand in an attempt to prevent disaster from happening and keep myself safe. 


As time went on, I learned boundaries were more empowering when used daily to help me define who I was, especially to myself. It was a way to show self-respect. With few boundaries ever stated in my marriage, I realized how much I  floundered and second guessed every decision, or passively accepted my fate. In the end, I felt invisible to myself and enmeshed with my mate. The end of the marriage meant having to kill off at least half, if not most of me...and then try to rebuild.

I learned slowly it's okay to express needs and state limits but to remain flexible in changing or evaluating. Real intimacy and personal growth are validated through the boundaries we set. I wish I had discovered this news-to-me fact years ago...but hey, it's never too late to learn. I’m still a work in progress.
-- 

Boundaries. Again. Because we (I) still struggle to set them...

I don't know about you but no matter how much I recognize the value in and need for boundaries, I still struggle. Years and years of being a pleaser has made "sure, I can do that" or "that's okay" my reflexive response to pretty much anything. You didn't have time to do that one thing I asked you to do? "That's okay." You need me to finish up a job for you? "Sure, I can do that."

Just this morning, I agreed to pay $40 at the dentist for a fluoride treatment that I kinda think is a gimmick because I wanted to be agreeable. Dammit, right? 

I'm getting better. I'm learning to build in a pause before I respond. Though it almost pains me, I now (mostly!) say, "let me think about that" when I'm being asked to do something that I'm not sure I want to. Too often, I don't know what I feel about something until I sit with it. My desire to please others remains, in the moment, stronger than my desire to please myself. But if I give myself that moment, if I allow myself time to check in with myself, then I remember: My job is to keep myself safe and my relationships free of resentment. And I can't do that when I'm agreeing to things that are disagreeable to me, or when I'm letting people off the hook for letting me down.

And so, here we are again: Boundaries.

Let's revisit what boundaries are not:

People think boundaries are a wall or moat around your heart, but they’re not

~Brené Brown

So what are they?

Good boundaries are a drawbridge to self-respect.

~also Brené Brown

Put another way, boundaries are about behaviours, not people. 

Put another, another way: Our problem isn't with the people in our lives, necessarily. It's with what they are/are not doing. And when we keep our focus on their behaviour and not on them personally, it's a lot easier to understand how to keep ourselves safe and to have the necessary conversation. These people can still be welcome in our lives but we can put limits on what we will and will not tolerate from them.

What's more, boundaries can change. What feels unacceptable to you right now (going to your husband's company BBQ because he cheated with his assistant) might feel acceptable in a year, or two, or three. In my case, I put limits on how often I saw my husband's family after D-Day. I found them critical and cruel and I decided I no longer would put myself through that. With time, I was able to see them more often while still respecting my limitations.

Boundaries confuse a lot of people because they feel dictatorial. Or selfish. But let's let Brené Brown's words be our guide. They are not a wall or a moat, they are a drawbridge to our self-respect. What do you need to be respectful of ourselves? 

•People may not _______________ (For me: People may not lie to me or be dishonest by omission)

•I have a right to ask for ________ (I have a right to ask for honesty)

• It’s okay for me to _______________ (It’s okay for me to say no to things I don't want to do or to take time to figure out what I want to do)

What might you add? I have the right to ask for...what I need to heal (counselling, a separation, a babysitter for time away). People may not...consistently be late. It's okay for me to...prioritize my needs.

It's hard if you don't have a lot of practice. And far too many of us have spent a lifetime squelching our own wants and needs to the point that we often can't identify what ours are. What makes me happy? Well, when everyone else is happy. Sad, huh? 

But, I'm learning. Slowly. But I'm learning. 

Stay tuned for a post on consequences. What they are and what they're not. Inspired by a Twitter conversation!

 

Healing from Betrayal: How to Counter Counter-Moves

My daughter is frustrated. She has a friend who routinely suggests grabbing something to eat after school but who inevitably turns out to be broke and unable to pay for her part of the snack. 
A third friend, whose parents keep her well supplied with money, will usually step in and pay for friend #2. This drives my daughter, who works hard for her money, crazy. 
"She taking advantage of [Friend #3]," my daughter wails. "And it makes me look cheap when I won't also chip in to cover [Friend #2's] meal."
I try to remind my daughter that she can only control her own actions, not those of her friends. And to pay for a friend and then resent having to pay isn't respecting her own boundaries now is it really respecting the friendship. 
Thing is, my daughter has choices in this situation. She just doesn't like them. 
And who can blame her? Drawing that clear line around our boundaries is really uncomfortable. We want people to like us. We want people to think good things about us. 
Besides, counter-moves are almost inevitable whenever we make our boundaries clear.
Counter-moves are the responses we get from people who far prefer our boundaries to be fuzzy and easily manipulated.
We see them most transparently with kids. Think of the last time you told a child he/she couldn't do something – watch TV, have a cookie before dinner, stay up late. Did the child respond with, "I understand. And I appreciate you even considering my request."
Uh...don't think so.
More likely you heard something like "You're the meanest person in the world. Jeremy's mother lets him [fill-in-the-blank-here] any time he wants. I hate you." Or maybe you heard: "You're not the boss of me. I can do whatever I want." Or perhaps it was something like: "Fine. I don't care. I didn't want that anyway." There's usually some eye-rolling, or arm crossing, or stomping involved.
Depending on our own personalities and understanding of boundaries and counter-moves, we're likely to get hooked into one type of counter-move more than others. For me, it's anger. The minute someone in my family gets angry at me, I'm hooked and I'll match them holler for holler. 
With my kids, it became easier to see when they were delivering counter-moves. Sometimes they were quite hilarious, like the time my then-five-year-old daughter packed her bags to leave home because we had said "no" to something and she had no choice but to leave a home in which she wasn't treated well (ie. given whatever she wanted). We said we would miss her very much and that if she ever changed her mind and felt that she could live with our rules, then she was always welcome back. After testing our resolve, she harrumphed and went upstairs to unpack. 
The adults in our lives aren't always so transparent. 
Do any of these sound familiar?
"You're just like your mother."
"You only think of yourself."
"You're so controlling."
"You're acting crazy."
"Stop being jealous."
"Nothing makes you happy." 
Every single one of those statements is about getting you to back down. And they often work. The last thing we want is to sound like our mother. Or feel selfish. Or controlling. Or crazy. And so we insist that we're not doing that at all...are we? And in that instant, our boundaries get fuzzy. We soften things a bit. "It's just that, I can't sleep until I know you're home..." or "I just need to know that you're not in touch with her...." Those "just"s or "I only..."s weaken your boundaries. 
Barbara Coloroso, who's a parenting expert but whose advice works with anyone in our lives, calls these typical counter-moves "cons": 
Con 1 is weeping, wailing, begging, bribing, gnashing of teeth ("Please don't check my texts. I promise there's nothing there. You have to trust me. I would never ever hurt you again...") 
Con 2 is anger and aggression. ("How dare you check my phone! You violated my privacy. If you won't trust me then there's no point in staying married.")
Con 3 is sulking/pouting. ("Fine. Do whatever you want. I don't care....")
Cons are powerful. They hook us and, if we're not good boundary-enforcers, next thing we know, we've backed down. 
But when we back down, we poison the relationship with our own negative feelings. Resentment. Frustration. Anger. Hurt. Fear. 
We might have kept the peace for the moment but we've paid for it by contributing to the dysfunction.

What does this look like after betrayal? Well, let's continue with the example above – to have total transparency around your partner's phone or computer. We want passwords and access to all records and accounts. 

It would be lovely if our partner responds that he understands that this is part of rebuilding trust. Many, however, give us countermoves. You're never going to trust me again, are you? No matter what I do, you find fault with it. I can't win with you. 

Or: I refuse to live like a prisoner in my own home. I told you I wouldn't cheat again. I've learned my lesson. If you can't believe me, that's your problem.

Or: You need to just trust me. Let's put this in the past and move forward. It's unhealthy to keep hashing it out.

What's more, some of it is probably true. You likely are hard to please right now (uh, duh. Wonder why?). You are also doubting you'll ever trust him again. But that doesn't make the counter-moves less toxic. And it doesn't change the fact that you are making a reasonable request under the circumstances. You're making clear boundaries in order to respect yourself within the relationship. 

You can commiserate if you'd like ("I'm sure it does seem humiliating to have to show me your phone messages but I need to see them in order to silence my fears that you're still cheating on me."). You can murmur sympathetically that, "yes, it does seem as though I'm hard to please right now." But that doesn't change the fact that you're respecting yourself and what you need within the relationship.
Recognizing and responding to counter-moves gets easier with practice. 

I asked my daughter what might happen if she began to ask her always-broke friend if she had any money before agreeing with her to go out for food. My daughter admitted she'd feel really uncomfortable asking and that her friend might only hang out with the other friend who paid. Or she might tell people my daughter was a cheapskate. And then, before I could even respond, my daughter said, "I know, I know. Counter-moves."
Exactly. 
At a certain point, when we consistently refuse to back down, the people in our lives realize that the counter-moves aren't going to work.
And they either stop...or find others with whom the unhealthy dance can continue.
Either way, we win. 

From the Vault: I'm About to Wage War Over My Boundaries

I just discovered this never-published post that I wrote in 2012. I didn't post it because it seemed to have little to do with infidelity. Now, of course, I can see that boundary setting has TONS to do with infidelity. The good news is that, while I recognize the "me" in this post, she's not around so much now. The new "me" is so much better at this stuff. Whattaya know, huh? Change is possible...the war is won.

I'm severely pissed off these days.
At my husband. At my 12-year-old daughter. At my thousand-year-old cat. At the government. The list goes on.
I'm sick – sick to death, I tell you! – of feeling disrespected and unappreciated. I cook, I clean, I pick up cat feces that always miss the litter box by just enough. Does anyone thank me? Appreciate me? Treat me with the kindness and compassion I deserve??
Nooooooo...
Including...me.
And that, of course, is the problem.
No-one can take advantage of you without your permission, my mother often reminded me as I lamented yet another situation from which I couldn't seem to extricate myself.
Of course, like generations of daughters before and yet-to-come, I shrugged it off. After all, what the hell did my mother know?
Turns out, quite a lot. And given her own experience with betrayal, I should definitely have listened a bit more closely to her advice.
If anyone knew boundaries, it was my mother.
Me? Not so much.
But boundaries aren't just for keeping ourselves from volunteering too often at the school bake sale. They're an integral part of healing from betrayal. They're an integral part of living a healthy life.
They are, in fact, like a rulebook for how to live our lives. They remind us that we matter...even when other aren't treating us like we do. Make that especially when others aren't treating us like we do.
Wendy Strgar, whom I've cited on this site before, notes in this blog post that "boundaries are the truest measure of how we love ourselves."
And I haven't been loving myself too well these days (or, come to think of it, ever).
Maybe you haven't been either.
Instead, my boundaries are like Silly String. They're hang in threads...and no-one takes them seriously.
The result, of course, is that I do a whole lot of stuff for everyone else and very little for myself. Which (see above) makes me really pissed off.
Well, I'm tired of feeling pissed off.
So I'm spending some time figuring out where my boundaries are. No easy task. In some cases, they don't exist so I'm creating them. Based on nothing more than a feeling in my gut that advises me whether or not what I'm about to do or say "yes" to makes me feel yucky (that's a technical term).
I can't always feel it. I've become something of an expert at sending that little gut feeling to her room where she's completely silent. And so I'm learning to invite her back out and to offer up her advice.
When I listen, it's usually something like this:
"Why are you picking up your son's backpack when you've told him REPEATEDLY to do it himself. Instead, let him know that if he doesn't put them away himself, it'll be tossed in a bin in the garage. And that's where he can find his homework next time he's looking for it."
Wow. My gut is a bitch you don't want to mess with.
And while I don't want to be a bitch, I do want to be respected. Which is, sometimes, the same thing.

Your all-you-need-to-know post-infidelity guide to quashing hyper-vigilance

by StillStanding1

We used to be able to trust our eyes and ears. Our brains were reliable tools that operated (so we thought) with objectivity and logic. We could trust our guts, our womanly intuition. And then, suddenly, horrifically we learn that our senses have not been telling us the truth, have been faulty or offline.  Our intuition has been fooling us (or maybe we fooled ourselves into not listening to it). Our brains have turned into out-of-control locomotives, racing down the tracks of some dark, unfamiliar land and we are helpless to stop it. We feel crazy. We can’t stop thinking about a thousand “what ifs” and “I should have seen this” and mind movies and “oh my God!!! Make it stop.” And we can’t stop crying. Randomly. In the grocery. Driving to pick up the kids at school. Hearing a song on the radio. We’re afraid to watch the TV in case something triggers us. We are standing in the tall grass and we know the lions are coming for us. Suddenly, the whole world is a danger zone.

Post-infidelity we become hyper-vigilant and hyper-sensitive. Bright lights, loud noises, crowded spaces, everything makes us jump out of our skin or fall to our knees. It is a natural response to such a massive threat to safety. We have been traumatized and old reptilian parts of the brain kick in, trying to keep us safe from future harm. We overthink everything. As more details come to light, in a process quaintly dubbed “trickle truth,” we attempt to create a narrative that makes sense. When I was with our daughter at the nephrologist, trying to determine why a 16-year-old would have kidney stones, you were on a “business trip.” When you were in the basement playing that song, it wasn’t for me.

We start looking for clues everywhere. We turn into sleuths, searching online, on their phones, asking questions, checking in, examining credit card and phone bills, installing questionable tracking apps. We start analyzing every word, every facial expression. Did he blink and look left? Was what he just said true? What did he leave out? What is he hiding? Why didn’t he check in when he said he would? What doesn’t add up? We scour books and articles for any clues that might tell us what the hell is happening and how to make it stop. And we think and think and worry and think and worry and brace for impact. We don’t want to be fooled again. We are constantly on watch.

It’s exhausting. There’s no one to spell us when our watch is over, so we are constantly alert to the possibility of more lies and deception. We don’t sleep. We don’t eat. It’s not sustainable. All these activities, all the sleuthing wears us out and they get in the way of taking care of ourselves. Our instinct is fight or flight. But if we are constantly scanning the horizon for new threats, we can’t slow down and listen to what our bodies, our gut, is telling us about right now.

Tuning in to ourselves is the first step toward stopping the crazy train of hyper-vigilance. How do you do this?  Be still and take slow, deep breaths. Pause, note what is happening (my heart is pounding, I’m sweating, I’m panicking), label it.  When I say label it, I mean acknowledge the feeling or emotion or fear. When you give the thing a name, you have power over it (and not the other way around). Search for objective evidence before reacting (and if you can’t, if you’ve been triggered, be kind and gentle with yourself about it). Be mindful. Pay attention to what your body is telling you. But to do this, you need to slow down and listen. The final step to working with and through hyper-vigilance is to set boundaries with the person (or people – I’m looking at you in-laws of the world) who trigger you.

Boundaries are about what you will and will not tolerate. It’s a way to hold ourselves and others accountable for acting with integrity and treating us with respect.  Boundaries work best when you are clear on the consequences if certain lines are crossed. Boundaries take the place of hyper-vigilance because they do the same job. They keep an eye on things but with boundaries, you can eat, or take a nap, or run, or visit friends, or meditate because boundaries will be on duty, so you don’t have to be.

Recently, I had another little rumble with over-thinking and hyper-vigilance. I got more information (ref. trickle truth above). It was really disappointing, more deception uncovered, and it made me wonder: Was I over thinking? Did he mean what I think he meant or did I misunderstand? Is he really that manipulative? Is it on purpose? Is my bias now leading me to see everything as evidence for the conclusions I have already drawn? And I see this over-thinking playing out in a cycle of depression and losing the threads of my self-care regimen. I’m tired so I make less time for running, so I eat poorly, so I feel tired, so I make less time for the gym, so I start to feel less worthy and stress about my weight, so I eat poorly so I feel too tired or sad to work out. It’s a self-perpetuating doom loop.

Once I notice, I can pause, note that I am over-thinking and try to bring myself back to the present. Right now, I am OK. Right now, I am breathing. Right now, I have a roof over my head and enough to eat. Right now, there are people who love me. Right now, I can choose to go for a walk. Right now, I can soak in the tub, take a multi-vitamin, eat an apple, call a friend. I can make a choice that puts my care and feeding first. And can you too.

Because ultimately, all the FBI level, hyper-vigilance in the world isn’t going to stop a person from cheating, if they choose to do so. It isn’t going to stop us from being hurt in the future (because good news! if you are alive and human, life is going to be both amazing and painful, sometimes at the same time). It isn’t going to change the past, no matter how much we wish it would. We can only, in the end, control ourselves. When we stop trying to control those who have hurt us, we release ourselves from so much suffering.

It’s hard. You’ll stumble. You might have a good day and then suddenly notice on a walk that you are 15 minutes into rehearsing a rant at the OW. It’s OK. Here’s your opportunity. Pause. Breathe. Notice. Breathe. Label. Breathe. Let it go. Breathe.