A Boundary is NOT An Argument

I recently stated a boundary that made perfect sense to me. Apparently it did not make perfect sense to everyone else. Here is the scoop: two of us had offered to drive several neighbors to a social event. On the morning of said event, the other driver woke up feeling ill and asked if I could take over the driving. “No problem at all,” I told her. In the next breath I added: “As much as I love you, I will not drive you. I do not want to be in a small, enclosed space with someone who is ill, especially when we do not know the cause”.

She chose not to attend.

Fast forward to the evening.

I picked up the other women. While we were driving, our missing passenger came up in conversation. I explained that I had been happy to be the driver but had not been willing to transport someone who was actively ill.

Wowzer. Their surprise was obvious.

Suddenly I found myself defending my decision. I had absolutely no guilt. I had no regret. I did, however, have a knot in my stomach. Later I realized that the knot was not doubt about my boundary. It was the discomfort of being misunderstood. There is a difference.

I had not told another adult what she could or could not do. I had not forbidden her from attending the event. I had simply decided what I was willing to do with my car, my health and my body. Hmmmmmm? That is what a boundary is.

A boundary does not control another person’s choices. Rather it defines our own participation.

Later, the woman I had declined to drive sent me a text. She understood completely. In fact she told me that I had reinforced what she needed to hear.

The person directly affected understood my decision.

The others may have chosen differently.

What an interesting lesson.

So not everyone standing outside our boundary will understand why we built it. Perhaps they would make another choice. Perhaps they were taught that kind means always accommodating others. Perhaps a clearly spoken “no” still sounds harsh to people who are accustomed to hearing, “Oh, all right”.

But their surprise did not make my boundary unreasonable.

Their discomfort did not create an obligation for me to defend it.

That may be my next lesson.

I can explain my decision once. I can speak with kindness. I can acknowledge that someone else might choose differently.

BUT

I do not have to turn my boundary into a courtroom argument and persuade a jury that I am entitled to have it.

“I understand that others might have chosen differently. This was the decision that felt right for me.” Then stop.

Even writing this now, I feel tightness in my body, butterflies in my stomach, and tears in my eyes. Not because I believe I was wrong. Nope. I am taking the vulnerability of something I learned privately and revealing it publicly. There is excitement and terror there.

Maybe those feelings are not telling me to remain silent. Maybe they are telling me that this matters. A boundary will not always feel triumphant. Sometimes it will leave a knot in our stomach because feeling misunderstood is uncomfortable.

Discomfort is not guilt and it is not regret and it certainly is not proof that we were wrong.

Not everyone will understand the fence we build.

They do not have to.

A boundary is a decision, NOT an opening statement in a debate.

💚 The Accidental Blogger