The Unexpected Slap in the Face
Unpacking Boundaries and Trauma
I finally cracked open the book that had been staring at me for months, patiently waiting its turn in my towering stack of reads—a revolving cue of novels, picture books, non-fiction, cookbooks, memoir, and a bit of fantasy. It was time. The spine gently creaked open, the new sound of glue and paper a promise of fresh insights. I settled into my chair, and my daughter appeared, curiosity sparkling in her eyes.
“What are you reading, Mom?” she asked.
“It’s called Set Boundaries, Find Peace by Nedra Glover Tawwab,” I told her.
“Is it for kids?” she chirped.
“It’s written for adults, I believe, but the principles in the book can apply to both children and adults,” I replied.
“Okay,” she said, seemingly satisfied, before running off to play.
Twelve pages in—a literal slap in the face. There’s absolutely no beating around the bush, no sugarcoating. Nedra Glover Tawwab jumps right into the nitty-gritty: What are boundaries? She defines them as “...expectations and needs that help you feel safe and comfortable in your relationships.” But she also describes them as “the root of self-care” and “a cue to others about how to treat you.”
My mind raced as I read her prompt list, familiar from her Instagram:
“Signs you Need Boundaries:
You feel overwhelmed
You feel resentful toward people for asking for your help
You avoid phone calls and interactions with people who might ask for something
You make comments about helping people and getting nothing in return
You feel burned out
You frequently daydream about dropping everything and disappearing
You have no time for yourself”
The movie of my life started playing in my head. I took a deep breath, reminding myself that shame isn’t helpful. I released the guilt, the burdens of feeling less than. I forgave myself for my actions in survival mode and felt a surge of gratitude for simply keeping us alive. My thoughts drifted to all the times I’d said yes to things I didn’t want to do, when I hadn’t spoken up as people crossed the line—especially family members—because of a paralyzing fear of rejection. My people-pleasing tendencies, sacrificing my needs to serve everyone but myself. The times I accidentally overshared or got sucked into enmeshment (lacking emotional separation between me and another person), or when I swung in the opposite direction after feeling vulnerable, abused, and taken advantage of, putting up thick walls. I stopped sharing joy when appropriate and safe, cut people out when they were healthy, avoided vulnerability, and established strict rules.
Like a pendulum, I’d swung between these extremes my whole life, never knowing what healthy boundaries even looked like. I blamed myself. I must be broken was the narrative in my head for so long, but now I know better. Now I can accept my wholeness, even in my mess. Before I dove into the next crucial paragraph, I took another deep breath, grounding myself. Yeah. This book might take me a long time to get through (much like "Whole Brain Child" did, more on that another day).
Unraveling the Pattern: Where Boundaries Go Missing
Then I got there. The explanation was on the page. I wasn’t taught. And likely, the patterns weren’t established because they weren’t taught either—another lovely string to unravel in my family trauma system. Glover Tawwab writes, “If your family operates on unspoken limits or regularly ignores limits, you will probably grow up lacking the communication skills necessary to be assertive about your needs.”
BINGO! It’s a pattern. The shifting, complicated dynamic. But wait, it gets better…
She continues, “Parents with addiction issues often send the message that a child’s boundaries are not more significant than the parent’s addiction. So these children grow up struggling to understand and define limits.” I didn’t need her to tell me that; I already knew it deeply. I knew, growing up, that my needs weren’t essential. My voice wasn’t important. My emotions weren’t important. I needed to appease, care for, and tiptoe around the whims of my caregivers so I could earn their love—when it was available.
From Pain to Peace: The Roadmap Ahead
I told you, heavy stuff for the start of a book, right? But I can get down with this. Let’s come out of the gate swinging. Swing, batter, batter, swing!
The home run is that Glover Tawwab doesn’t leave me sitting with all this realized pain and frustration, confused and wondering what the fuck to do. She’s laid out the rest of the book as a roadmap to finding boundaries, finding peace—starting with action and communication, and explaining the steps in between.
I won’t push myself through this like I’m back in high school running the 200-meter dash (which I honestly sucked at). Instead, I’ll pace myself like cross country, which I equally sucked at, but man, it felt great when I was done. As Glover Tawwab wisely states, “Short-term discomfort for a long-term healthy relationship is worth it every time!”