Thursday, January 8, 2015

Drawing the Line: A Post-Betrayal Post About Boundaries

December holds my D-Day #1. So it's with some trepidation that I plan for the holidays each year. Even though I'm eight years out (!!!) and even though I have trouble remembering if it was December 10 or December 11, I'm still conscious around those dates of just where I was those years ago. And of how much has changed.
So often I tell the women who've found their way to this site that they will get through this. I'm not sure they believe me. I'm not sure I would have believed me. The wound is simply so gaping, the pain so deep that few of us believe we'll ever find our way back to a place of wholeness.
And yet, I was reminded this year of just how far I've come. Even beyond healing from my husband's infidelity. I'm happier than I think I've ever been. A deep-down, through-hell-and-back happiness that is richer for the knowledge that I fought hard for it.
Case in point: My brother-in-law is a jerk. This is pretty much universally acknowledged by all who know him. His family, however, which includes my husband, traffic in denial. Not about his jerkiness. But about how his jerkiness affects other people. Like me, for instance. I learned long ago that my husband's knee-jerk response around his family was to attack anyone who notices that they're somewhat less than the perfect family. When I first pointed out that the emperor wasn't only naked, he was an asshole, I was told that I was the problem.
Thing is, pre-D-day, I bought into that fiction to some extent. I was "too sensitive". I didn't "understand". His mother, who could be cruel, was raised during the Depression after all (of course, so were my grandparents and they didn't feel the need to shame and judge others). She had been an immigrant. His father and mother had been poor. The version of his family's story that we were all asked to buy was that they had it harder than anyone else and the world, therefore, needed to excuse their often nasty behaviour.
I tried. After all, I was sensitive. And I had long ago convinced myself that if something is MY problem, then I can fix it; if it's somebody else's, then all hell might break loose. (Thank-you alcoholic parents for that life lesson!)
And then D-Day hit. And suddenly I was given an entirely different version of his family's story. This one rang a whole lot more true. Stories of abuse. Stories of deception. A family environment that bred dishonesty and compulsion.
Turns out that my sensitivity was one helluva an early-warning system. I had felt on high-alert around these people because I wasn't safe with them.
Slowly, as I've healed from both my D-Days, and as my husband has healed from his childhood, I've let his family back into my life.
But when his brother this past holiday started with his misogyny, when he tried to excuse his racist ideas, when he tried to make me "be quiet and listen", I stood up. No, I said. I don't agree with you, I said.
The next day, I made the decision that I will not entertain someone whose views are so offensive to me, so contrary to what my children know, so dismissive of anyone who's different than he is.
And rather than feel angry and invisible and silenced, like I would have felt eight years ago, I felt giddy. This was MY choice. I get to decide who I spend my time with. I get to determine who I welcome into my home.
It's my husband's brother and, despite everything, my husband loves this idiot. So I will never forbid him from entering our home. But next year, if we decide to invite him and his family (which we might – his kids and mine are cousins, after all), I will order Chinese food, throw some plates on the table and then take my dogs for a walk. Happy holidays. Enjoy your kung pao chicken.
All this is a long way of saying that what I've learned through all of this is that it's not my job to make others comfortable. It's not my job to take care of everyone. It's absolutely not my job to silence my own instincts for the sake of peace. The price is simply too high.
It is my job to keep myself safe. It is my job to behave in a way within my marriage that doesn't lead to resentment. It is my job to treat myself with respect and allow only those who can treat me with respect into my life.
It's a lesson I've learned the hard way. But one I wouldn't trade for anything.

8 comments:

  1. "All this is a long way of saying that what I've learned through all of this is that it's not my job to make others comfortable. It's not my job to take care of everyone. It's absolutely not my job to silence my own instincts for the sake of peace. The price is simply too high.
    It is my job to keep myself safe. It is my job to behave in a way within my marriage that doesn't lead to resentment. It is my job to treat myself with respect and allow only those who can treat me with respect into my life."

    Oh my god Elle. Such amazing words. This is what I am learning and so greatful for the opportunity. It is even more valuable than being able to heal my marriage and reconcile with my husband.
    I see it as a path to life long happiness.

    MBS

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    Replies
    1. MBS,
      That's what I'm always trying to say, in various ways. If we heal from betrayal, it gives us a chance to heal all sorts of other injuries as well. Ultimately, whether our marriage survives or not, we triumph.

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    2. LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE

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    3. I ran across this the other day....I must have received the email and filed it away through the holidays as I was clearly in the middle of my own private pity party, separating myself from my family throughout the holidays and just wishing it was all over. I'm SO glad I read this! Everything you said hit home with me...It's not like I hand't heard it all before, but this was in the perfect context in which I needed to read it. It has renewed my spirit to forge on whether it be on my own or not. Right now, at this present moment, it IS on my own as I haven't been able to forgive someone who is still not sorry (he's still lost in the "our marriage was crap so this is why I am who I am" phase) but I must say I feel empowered to find that person I used to be before all of this co-dependancy stuff filled my life! I'm crying, but they're tears of joy and contentment I thought I'd never find again :)

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    4. Anonymous,
      Hallulujah to that! You will find yourself. Whether he finds himself is HIS problem.
      And sometimes we need to hear something over and over until it finally sticks.
      Re. forgiving someone who is still not sorry? You can forgive him for being who is he, while not giving him permission to continue to be that person in your life. Forgiveness is never about saying his behaviour is okay. It's about no longer giving his dysfunction power over you. It's setting yourself free.

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  2. That model of co- dependency we learn in our families either with alcoholics or mentally ill parent like mine is a hard thing to undo. That we were taught early on it's our job to take care of others, our happiness depends on them becomes so entrenched that I think it may take a life time even with good therapy. But you nailed it when you said that we must respect ourselves above all else.

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  3. Pilots wife, it is SO hard, I really thought I had dealt with all my childhood stuff. Wrong. But the moment I found the betrayal, I don't know HOW I knew, but I knew this was NOT about me (didn't help, I wanted to maim him anyway) but at that moment I KNEW neither he nor anyone else would ever get to step on me Again. It is not our job to fix, change, and mold others, think about how hard it is to do to ourselves? And we think we can do it to someone else? But PW, I know that is so much easier said than done.
    We can all get to at least taking care of our selves, and it sounds so simple, but if we were not brought up with it, it feels close to impossible. But we can do it. You can do it. You are an incredibly brave woman.
    Thanks Elle for another brilliant post.

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    Replies
    1. Thanks for your kind words, Steam. Don't know if I would say I'm brave but I hope after 65 yrs on this planet I have developed some resilience. And most of all that my children will remember me as a mother who loved them as best she could.

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