The imperfect art of setting boundaries with difficult loved ones
I worried more about their reaction than mine. Now I can flip the script.
A few years ago, I had to make one of the most challenging phone calls of my life: I had to tell my parents they could not come visit my family and me in New York, where we lived at the time.
They had been planning a big road trip from Texas, but my mother’s mental health was obviously unraveling. She was taking multiple drugs to cope, self medicating with things that weren’t exactly prescribed. This had happened before on several previous trips of theirs, but now we had a three-year-old to keep safe.
Fearing what would happen if they did make the trek, I called my dad and asked him to cancel. It was the first time I had to set a real boundary with them, saying no, you will not bring your chaos into my space.
That request sounds simple (and obvious), but holy shit, I didn’t want to do it. I felt terrible. I worried I’d hurt their feelings. I worried my father would feel abandoned. And I worried my mother would react badly.
And, of course, she did—so badly that it became the most traumatizing summer of my life, a time I still can’t think about without starting to shake, even though my own physical health was never at risk. It was all emotional damage.
There were two big lessons I learned that summer:
You can set boundaries but your loved one won’t necessarily follow them. They may instead blow them up as best they can. It’s not necessarily because they are difficult people who enjoy making you unhappy, it’s because they simply don’t understand the need for the concept of boundaries, a common problem of emotionally immature parents and/or parents with personality disorders. This is why you need boundaries from them. It’s a paradox you must learn to live with.
Boundaries may help you feel some control over the situation, but they will not prevent you from feeling bouts of guilt, self-criticism, grief, wishful thinking (“maybe they’ll change!”) and confusion. Those conflicting emotions make you normal, not bad.
Reframing your doubt
A lesson I learned over the long run? With time, I realized how useful the limits were. I also stopped judging the word “boundaries” as something inherently negative. In fact, they are necessary in all relationships, including with my child.
But the conflicted emotions may never go away, especially if you have a parent who has perfected guilt trips. In her excellent essay, Setting Boundaries With Parents With Personality Disorders, author Imi Lo provides a great way to reframe your thinking. Rather than asking “what if I regret it?” she suggest a different approach, such as “what if I regret sacrificing my own happiness?” or “what if I pass this pattern on to my kids?”
By learning the imperfect art of boundary setting, you’re demonstrating one of the most important shifts in your life: Acceptance, self-compassion, and prioritizing your relationship to yourself. Remember: Your loved one may not be capable of the change you need, but you are.
Difficult yet excellent choice.
It's so very difficult setting boundaries with unwell parents, but it must be done for our sanity. I love that reframe you gave: what if I regret sacrificing my own happiness? that's what it took for me. I was spending so much time recovering from interactions with my mother that I had to make some very difficult choices. interestingly enough, as soon as I did, I started my blog. It's like finally I had enough creative energy to build my own life rather than protect myself from the one I came from. Thanks for talking about these delicate situations.