corners & edges
I’ve been thinking about lines lately.
A couple of weeks ago he told me a story about a woman, something truly abhorrent that I won’t repeat here. We both mourned her, this stranger, who suffered some of the worst things imaginable.
In return, I told him about a friend living overseas. She is struggling within the confines of her current relationship – one that is, at best, toxic.
I don’t understand why they stay. Why put up with someone hurting you? Belittling you? Cheating repeatedly?
Everything in me stilled.
There are a myriad of reasons, and even a month ago my answer might have been different. But I haven’t been able to quit thinking about the lines.
I think most women, even the ones in healthy relationships, have an idea of where their lines are. It’s the reality of being a woman in this world. The problem is that many of us set those boundaries too far out. We think about the big things, forgetting to account for all of the steps in between. It’s easy to justify small behaviors. To assume we are the problem, that we are overthinking things, making too big a deal out of something small. And it sneaks up, over time, until a line has been crossed. By that point, we’re so used to justifying bad behavior that we just keep doing it.
He nodded in agreement, oblivious to just how much this has been on my mind lately, and the conversation moved in a different direction.
I do wonder sometimes how to react in those waystations leading up to my lines. What behaviors are acceptable, and under what circumstances? When should I hold my ground, and when should I exercise grace?
I want to be clear: I am safe and loved, but we’ve had some big hiccups recently, causing me to think about these things for the first time in a long while.
I’m rethinking my lines. More than that, I think I’m finally willing to defend them.
*****
I’ve struggled to find the words for all of this. Or perhaps, I find the right words but their honesty is too much, bringing thoughts and feelings into the light when I would prefer them to stay tucked away.
To give this full context, I must back up to our engagement and explain how, in the face of irrefutable evidence, he lied to me. My trust was betrayed twice, the original trespass compounded by the lie. It was the lie that hurt the most. How can you build a life with someone in the face of something like that? And yet, I did.
I felt trapped by all of it. The upcoming wedding, the expectations of our parents, the possible infidelity, his dishonesty. To back out felt impossible, but to stay killed something inside of me. I was in love, yes, but also so very scared and alone. I convinced myself that I’d overreacted and we moved forward without coming to any kind of resolution or understanding. I’ve mulled the decision to stay over and over and over, and I cannot find it in myself to regret it. But I do regret my passivity because it set a precedent.
A few years later he made a similar mistake, and once again I pushed it down. We almost split up that time but we had young kids and, for better or worse, were products of our evangelical upbringings. So I stuck it out.
Things have without a doubt improved. We’ve had more good years than bad, and what we have rebuilt is based on trust and an ongoing, open dialogue. Well, as open as I’m willing to be, which has always been a struggle. My fawn response often overrides my resolve, and I sacrifice something of myself in the name of avoiding conflict.
We’ve had several heavy conversations over the past week or so. Last Friday I realized I was dreading the weekend because I was so tired of the constant conflict. And then I realized something else – I am not responsible for sheltering him from himself. I steeled myself, shut down the fawn response, and told him exactly where I am at. It wasn’t a fun conversation, but it went so much better than I could have anticipated. I’m not naive enough to think everything will be easy going forward, but we’ve cleared the air and he’s working on things. So long as they continue to improve, I think we’ll be okay.
I have just as much work to do. I know I’m not an easy person to be in a relationship with. I’m closed off, conflict-avoidant, and overly passive. I’ve got a significant amount of baggage from past relationships, both romantic and platonic, that has left me with trust and attachment issues. There’s so much work left to do, and there is no doubt that I need professional input. I think I’ve held all of this too close to my chest for too long, and now I’m not sure how to sort through it on my own.
BUT
Today, for the first time in ages, I feel clear. Open, with something dangerously close to hope thrumming through me. This is the beginning of whatever comes next and, regardless of outcome, I will be better for it.
10:02 p.m. - 2024-03-14