Boundaries, Fences and the Berlin Wall

My cousin George died a few years ago, still with Soviet bullet fragments in one leg from his part in helping people escape from East Germany to the west. He had been a young man seemingly allergic to caution and willing to risk death to help others through what was intended to be an implacable barrier, the old Berlin Wall.

There are walls, and fences, and boundaries. The fences around our back yard allow bunnies to slip from one yard to the next. Yesterday, a squirrel chased a small bunny – not much bigger than said squirrel. The bunny escaped under the fence; the squirrel scurried up the fence to be sure the bunny was banished to the neighbor’s yard. The bunny, meanwhile, scampered right back into our yard. Up above, the squirrel looked left and right for the bunny. They had, apparently, an issue with boundaries.

Boundaries.  Twenty-plus years ago, boundaries were discussed most often in therapy, helping clients, often victims of emotional, physical and/or sexual abuse, learn how to put up practical, realistic limits for interactions with others. As the topic became more commonly known, wise writers and speakers (Brene Brown, for example) provided practical and inspiring information about developing and maintaining these healthy limits.

Like anything else, though, something good can be misused.

Medications that are essential to reduce some pain for someone in the final stages of cancer kill non-patients via drug abuse.

Entire genres of horror movies revolve around practical items used as devices of mayhem.

And the important psychological concept of boundaries – that we are each distinct beings and have a right to dignity and mutual respect ¬ is weaponized, like so much else in therapy, by far too many people.

As an example, consider the meme that “No is a complete sentence.”  That’s fine, as far it goes. But how often is that level of curtness warranted?

Husband: “Would you like to go out for ice cream?”

Lori: “No.”

Okay, for one thing, unless I am on a medically required pre-surg fast I wouldn’t ever say no to ice cream, so it’s ludicrous on that count. Secondly, it’s just rude. “No.” Better: no, thank you; tomorrow would be better, or, No, not this instant; could we go after I finish this paperwork?

No is a complete sentence, and optimally a loud one, when someone behaves inappropriately – then drawing attention to the need to stop an encroachment makes “NO! NO! NO!” a complete paragraph.

But the magical complete “No” is the least of my concerns. What happens more is the application of “I’m setting a boundary” when the person (usually a gaslighting partner or manipulative family member) really means, I’ve decided to be mean to you and I am using the magic hall pass word of boundary to get away with it. It’s totally legitimate to set a boundary. Yet, when used to justify inconsiderate behavior, it becomes a useful tool gone bad, a well-oiled emotional chainsaw in the wrong hands.

Of course, there are many people who refuse to accept reasonable boundaries.

For example, the fact, grandparents, that your (and my) fantasy of grandparent-life looked one way does not impose that script on our adult children. Whether we like it or not, they largely write that script and we can be enthusiastic about our roles, or be miserable grumbles and find ourselves little more than walk-ons.

Adult children who are not financially dependent on you do not need your unsolicited guidance on what they should be doing with their money. That conversation reasonably happens when they breach their “I’m a grownup boundary” by asking for money. They have, at that point, called you up from the Parent Reserves to Active Duty, and at that point you can ask questions, like, exactly what are they proposing to “pay off” with your IRA distribution for the entire year? Counter their complaints about boundaries that they are the ones opening that door.

When someone brings up the boundary word, it is time to breathe, ask some clarifying questions, and then take some time to reflect.

Does this feel like gameplaying – do the “boundaries” in this relationship keep shifting like quicksand?

Can you discern the difference between your disappointment and actual manipulation and meanness?

Does this sound as if the person is using psychological terminology to justify distancing from family? Is it possible that there are factors you don’t know about, or don’t sufficiently understand, that make this reasonable to them and for them at this time? This is entirely separate from you being disappointed.  Example: if big family holidays include family members who have been cruel, or abusive, or harshly critical, or have bullying senses of “humor” towards this person, the person placing a boundary up is acting in reasonable self-interest.

Usually, in the short term, the uncomfortable fact is that you can’t change the situation; you must figure out how to adapt. Pushing against the decision will, inadvertently, reinforce the decision; your arguments, tears and complaints will be interpreted as more evidence of disrespect for their asserted interpersonal boundaries – whether they are emotional boundaries, actual physical distance, or the dire separation equivalent to the old Berlin Wall.

Why didn’t you call me?

The Mystery of the Missing Phone Call

If you leave voicemail and I do not call you back, odds are it is because the voicemail did not come through, or, as sometimes happens due to cell phones, it was impossible to understand.  During 2024, there was a week in the autumn in which my cell phone record clearly shows no phone calls and yet later, several people complained about having called and receiving no call back. Their number popped up showing they’d called during the week in question, but the cell phone call logs of that week showed no such call. These things happen; it is regrettable and out of your, and my, control. If there is no call in a day or so during the business week, please call again! 

If you email me and ask me to call you, I will email back and invite you to call me. Sometimes people find this annoying or avoidant. I have two reasons for this.

First, I cannot be sure that whomever is emailing (or texting) is the person in question. That is why we therapists have requests about not sending confidential information by text or email.  Believe it or not, several times in my over quarter-century in practice, people have left voicemail or email with a name and number that was not their own. They had decided that “Alex” was in need of a therapist. In their imagination, leaving unsuspecting me a message to call “Alex” was a way to have “Alex” unexpectedly encounter a real, live therapist and jump at the chance to make an appointment. This is not how it ends up, believe me. On occasion, people have called and directly requested that I call some family member or friend, and I decline. I appreciate the honesty in the latter case, but it is still inappropriate.

Secondly, I cannot be sure that I will be calling when it is safe and private.

Thanks for calling!

Loneliness can kill you…part 3

This is the third of three posts. This one focuses on the art of conversation:  being better at conversation will help you overcome loneliness.  As noted in part 2 of this series, a lot of people struggle with reflection and/or asking questions that elicit a deeper conversation.

So, here are two strategies to help with these.

Reflection:  reflection has to do with being able to identify how someone else feels, and mirror that back to them with your expression and your words.  Laughing when someone tells you something sad (it happens, trust me) is not good. Identifying all negative emotions as some form of “mad” or “angry” is not helpful, either.  Sometimes, when you are watching a show, put it on mute and try to verbalize the emotions that characters are experiencing. Then go back and watch with the sound on. See how you did. Experiment with mimicking their facial expressions and see what feelings you experience; the imitated expression can trigger a shadow of the other person’s emotion via our mirror neurons.  If your emotional vocabulary is lacking, do an online search for Dr. Gloria Wilcox’ “The Feeling Wheel” for a research-based set of some of the many emotion words.

Asking questions:  there are plenty of sources for “conversation starters.” I have used Gary Chapman’s conversation starter cards for couples and for families with clients, as well as a discount store’s set of conversation starters for couples, families, and general-use conversation. Basically, at this writing, for about $1.25, you can get about 100 sample conversation starters. Here’s how to practice by yourself: pull a random card, look at the question, make up an answer someone might give, and see how many questions you can come up with related to that answer.

Random example:

Who was your favorite teacher?

And, here are just a few of the many possible questions to take the conversation further:

  1. What was special about this teacher?
  2. What is one of your favorite memories about being in that teacher’s class?
  3. Did other students feel the same way? Why or why not?
  4. How did having this teacher help you out in future classes with other, not-so-great teachers?
  5. If you could meet this teacher now, what would you want to say?
  6. Have you had any opportunities to help others the way this teacher helped you? What was that like for you?
  7. If you were going to encapsulate what you learned from this teacher as a “life lesson,” what would it be? How has that lesson reverberated for you since those days?
  8. Did you ever have a teacher who was sort of the evil opposite of this teacher? Who helped you get through that school year?

Practice making up questions. You won’t be peppering people with multiple questions; the goal isn’t to overwhelm people with an endless interrogation. The idea is to develop confidence that you can invite someone to have a richer conversation by asking a thoughtful question or two, and have the kind of dialogue that helps heal the loneliness that you, and perhaps they, are experiencing.

Because loneliness can kill you.

Loneliness can kill you, Part 2

Connecting with others is vital to overcome loneliness.  Just being around people, including your spouse, children, parents, other family members and friends, is no guarantee you will feel connected.

In one of the marriage prep/marriage enrichment workshops I facilitate for the Diocese of St. Petersburg, I teach (in part) listening skills that help enrich conversations and allow deeper understanding and connection.

Here are some simple steps to better listening:

  1. Eye contact – or related means of showing dedicated attention. Put the phone down; mute the big screen. Obviously, don’t turn from driving to make eye contact, but give attention.
  2. Reflect: reflecting is giving feedback that lets the other person know you are listening and understanding. Think of reflection in 3 levels:
    1. Content: what information is being relayed? Here is where summarizing or paraphrasing feedback can indicate you are paying attention. Sometimes this is all you need, as when making sure you’ve got necessary information.
    1. Emotion: when it’s more than just basic information, how does the speaker feel about the situation? Happy? Anxious? Worried? Sad? Annoyed or angry?  Reflecting words that indicate a grasp for the emotion(s) being expressed helps the person speaking understand that you have an interest and concern in how they feel. This be as simple as, “That’s great news; you must be so relieved,” when, for example, medical tests come back clear.
    1. Meaning: depending on the topic, and your relationship with the person, you may have insight into what the topic means to them; its significance to their life, hopes and dreams.  Feedback that touches on the meaning this must have indicates you have been paying attention – not just now, but in the past, too. If someone has been working towards a promotion and their annual review is 4.5 out of 5, they may be disappointed instead of pleased. Just complimenting the 4.5 when, to them, it means the promotion just became unlikely will indicate you haven’t been paying attention to their work-related conversations.
  3. Ask questions: elicit more information and keep on reflecting all through the process. Avoid “why” as an early question, as it can trigger defensiveness, but when you’ve demonstrated concern and interest, the “why’s” can be asked.
  4. Show support; this doesn’t mean agreeing, but some emotional support if something is clearly a big deal to the person speaking makes a difference.
  5. Empathize and encourage.

A lot of people struggle with reflecting and asking questions.  More on that in Part 3 of Loneliness can kill you.

Mom Wisdom: See, I wouldn’t like that

My mom has much wisdom, and it is often compressed into a succinct statement. One such statement is the beautifully versatile, “See, I wouldn’t like that.”

It is a thoughtful, personally disclosing and completely nonjudgmental response to all sorts of statements and behaviors. 

A distant relative has gotten an uncomfortable looking piercing. See, I wouldn’t like that, having a hole in my lip. But it’s not my lip.

Another family member is an avid hunter, while she is a vegetarian. See, I wouldn’t like that. But I’m sure it’s good to save money on food and of course the poor animal had at least a better quality of life while it lasted than those poor animals trapped in commercial stalls.

An elderly family member is planning a hiking and camping trip in the mountains. Well, good for her, but I wouldn’t like that. I’m sure she’ll have fun.

She will not pretend to agree with an opinion to keep the peace; she will not be abrasive or confrontational about it, either. She will not pretend that she, too, would want to skydive or travel someplace with large insects or otherwise engage in activities that she finds unappealing. She will listen, ask lots of questions, show genuine interest in the topic, seek to understand the other person’s enthusiasm, be encouraging and may also remark, well, see, I wouldn’t like that.

We have, to some extent, adopted this expression. Even when making an observation about something, such whether to go to the local First-Friday concert when the music is not a genre we enjoy, no criticism is necessary, just the agreement that lots of people will really enjoy it but, see, we wouldn’t like that.

I wonder what changes would ripple out if more people, instead of criticizing others for thinking or doing differently, the first stance was that respectful curiosity followed by a personal reflection that has nothing to do with whether the other party is “right” or “wrong.”  The alternative is a world where people fight or even cut one another out of their lives for matters that are more personal opinions than principles and too often, too little effort is made to find some common ground. And, see, I wouldn’t like that.

Taking it to the mats

What ever happened to giving someone some grace?  Or being tolerant?

As regular readers, I occasionally page through popular magazines just to see what sort of toxins are floating around in the public sphere.  It’s less time-consuming and annoying than hours of screen time. Between what I read, and what I hear from those on the receiving end of what is often cruelty, there is a whole lot less tolerance in these self-referentially oh-so-tolerant times than in the past. Often supposedly tolerant people demand that any disagreement be taken to the mats, verbally if not physically.

To be clear, I am talking about disagreements between people where there is no violence or threat of violence. I am not talking about adopting a “live and let live” attitude about child abuse or elder exploitation or criminal acts. I wonder where tolerance and grace went when it comes to the people we encounter in nonviolent settings in our daily lives.

A simple little example was an advice columnist’s suggestion that dealing with an annoying “friend” who calls during work hours and drains your energy and time with daily drama should comprise a formal sit-down in which you express how their thoughtless behavior impacts your feelings and your work, and expect some sort of mature, measured apology.  I am practical. My guidance would be along these lines: this is your “friend.” Surely you noticed before this that she seemingly has the thoughtlessness and flimsy self-control of a spoiled tween.  You accepted the friendship under those terms; she hasn’t changed. You have. Stop taking calls or looking at texts from her during work. What kind of job allows you to chat with friends on the employer’s dime?  Call her back when it’s convenient. And, if you choose to be friends with her, accept that she is as she is. She will be immature and you will have to set boundaries. Sure, tell her you can’t be interrupted at work. But you and I both know that having a nice little sit-down with her isn’t worth the aggravation. Imagine the flood of drama, spilling and splashing all over the table at the coffee shop.

In families, people disagree. At Thanksgiving, if you are fortunate enough to have family and friends with whom you can gather, people will have differing opinions. At least one of them may have misplaced their tolerance or drowned it in some substance of abuse. What to do? You might have fun arguing. My late cousin George, who had Soviet bullet fragments in his leg from his teenage adventures helping people escape from East Berlin, would take a perspective he didn’t necessarily agree with, for the entertainment of developing and defending a position, and do it with a twinkle in his eye. You might find that stressful; your plan may be to discreetly go do some dishes because “here s/he goes again.”  You might enlist at least one ally in a plan to divert and change topics if the intolerant person who expects everyone else to be tolerant starts pontificating. You might decide to politely express your perspective. Depending on the people present, any of those may be prudent.

Some people implode relationships foolishly. I know people who were cut off on the flimsiest of rationale; because they are “too negative,” or “worry too much.”  People cut off parents because their parents do not “support” (as in overtly cheer and brag about) their adult child’s career choice, tattoos, or other decisions.  And, conversely, parents cut off adult children.  In cases where people are dangerous, or truly disruptive (the addicted adult child who breaks in and steals from the parents; the abusive parent; the family member who is aggressive and belligerent about their cause-du-jour, as examples) then yes, safety and sanity require appropriate distance-setting. This is sad, even when necessary.

I’m not an appeaser or a door mat. When it comes to disagreements, I think that freedom requires that we live and let live in peace (that’s what tolerance used to mean) until the circumstances are such that it is necessary. Necessary means that an expectation for compliance is placed upon me, a demand that I change my mind or pretend to agree with something I find false.  It is necessary when harm is being done, is threatened, or is imminent. That is when it is important to speak up, calmly and rationally, to base my position in fact and refuse to play silly word games. Speak calmly, peacefully, firmly and succinctly, refusing to pretend. That would be a way to “take it to the mats.”

Paraphrasing St. Francis of Assisi – Peace and every good to you.

Prodigal and in your face

The holy days of fall and winter have begun, with Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur behind us and Thanksgiving, Hannukah, Advent and the Christmas holidays closing in fast. The stores overflow with all things green, red and peppermint. This means that one of the dreaded markers of the season is also upon us. You might be thinking about the price of turkeys, or heating bills, or navigating the dynamics of family and politics, but I am thinking in particular of the seasonal outbreak of atheism and related forms of cynicism among adolescents and young adults. Except for the power to disrupt other people’s good times, I’m not sure why so many families experience the angry outburst, arrogant smirks or sullen refusal to participate in the traditional prayers and rituals of life just when it is most likely to hurt.  Other than the week of Passover and Easter, there is no time more likely to cause suffering, than the fall and winter holidays: the season seems to be a favorite target for unleashing pent-up bitterness over having been raised in a tradition of faith and culture.

So, if this has happened to your family, you’re not alone.  Over a quarter-century in the mental health field, I have had to see many families distressed at the verbal attacks, the rebellion, and the apparent determination to be hurtful. Fighting with the young person about it is, of course, useless.  Trying to listen calmly, refusing to participate in conversations that are disrespectful, and suggesting the conversation continue later (and then following up to be sure “later” can happen) are potentially helpful.  Give yourself time to calm down, seek guidance from other people, consider the direction being taken.  If the young person has decided that belief in God is a superstition, something incompatible with science, perhaps they are willing to explore this, including the substantial number of scientists who are convinced that there is a God. Perhaps they are willing to learn about intelligent design from non-biased sources.   When the attitude is not mere cynicism but actual anger, it is very painful. Sometimes the rage is about the perceived lack of choice, the complaint is that they didn’t want to participate in the faith from childhood and that the introduction into the faith, whether bris or baptism, was abusive and unfair.

A rabbi whom I consulted echoed the mental health professional’s perspective: look at what else is going on, what other issues are at hand.  Someone who has found clarity (as they see it) should be more peaceful, not angry. An adolescent or young adult who has decided that religion is just superstition might be annoyed at being expected to participate, but will not be enraged. Anger is the sign that the presenting assertion is merely the top layer. What else is going on? Why the sudden rage?  Is someone smart enough – smarter than Fr. Georges le Maitre, the Jesuit priest and physicist who developed the theory now called the “big bang theory,” apparently, by their own reckoning – simultaneously naïve enough to believe something just because some people who sound convincing said so on some internet platform? What other indoctrination have they absorbed with unquestioning readiness?

Of course, you won’t have this conversation at Thanksgiving, right after the young person drops the bomb of their atheism, or rejection of religion, or rage at you about their Baptism, Bar or Bat Mitzvah, or Confirmation. That’s the time to somehow find the patience to be, or pretend to be, calm, politely curious and willing to discuss this later.  The conversation may happen over weeks, months, or years; it may involve some third party – a religious advisor, a therapist, a wise friend who has been on the same road.

It won’t be a fun conversation, and we can’t control the outcome. By being calm, listening carefully, asking sincere questions and verifying that you understand, you leave the door open for further dialogue as well as for the possibility of a change of heart.

Changes of heart are hard to admit, and even more so in the world of social media.  If a young person adopts a position, there will be a host of online encouragers.  If the young person reports pushback from adults, there will be more voices, criticizing the adults, urging cutting off the relationship, etc.  But, if the young person announces a change of heart, some of these voices of encouragement can become accusing, vindictive, cruel. Backing out of a decision can always be hard; imagine telling your parents you’ve decided to drop out of med school to be a professional surfer.  Consider the people who go through with weddings because they don’t want to disappoint people. Even smart, competent adults foolishly move forward into situations they know are wrong because they don’t want the transient embarrassment and miserable, but also transient, short-term effects. How much harder it is for young people who haven’t finished developing a mature brain.

This means our first job, as adults, is to listen with compassion and find a way to keep the door of communication open.  This way, when the young person is ready to reconsider, or be less vitriolic, or simply have a real dialogue, it will not require they have the desperation of the Prodigal Son to take the first steps. Whenever the child takes those first steps towards dialogue and reconciliation, remember the father in the parable, who ran to meet the returning child.

An Echoing Silence

Does anyone ever admit that they are not exactly the best communicator around? Maybe even that they are crummy conversationalists, incorrigibly competitive, and a bossy know-it-all, too?  Probably not.

Wouldn’t that be nice to hear sometimes?  Someone freely admitting the “communication problems” are at least a little bit on their side?

Maybe you think there are communication problems – the person in question (spouse, friend, child, parent) “never talks with me.”  It may be on their side, certainly – most problems have multiple factors, and communication is no exception. However, you only have control over you – not them.  So, if the communication problem falls into the “we never talk anymore” column, perhaps the following might offer perspectives.  If it’s possible it might be you…

Are you the Conversation Hijacker?  Does every topic offer you a possibility to wrestle control of the conversation, taking over, changing direction and refusing to yield to the other people in the conversation?  They bring up the local baseball team and you take “sports” and launch into a detailed analysis of an entirely different game, the season ahead, and every stupid mistake the nearest team made when adding new players.

Perhaps you are the Professor. You don’t discuss, you lecture: expanding on your opinion, the evidence as you see it, and what’s wrong with other people’s positions, beliefs, or behaviors.  Expertise is wonderful; battering people with it is not nice.

Related to this, perhaps you become the Guidance Counselor or Coach: giving unsolicited advice, suggestions, and explanations of the person’s “problem” and the solution as you see it.  You don’t stop to be sure you have enough information to even begin to formulate advice; in your unconscious arrogance, you assume you have perfect-fit prêt-a-porté advice for every occasion.

Or, perhaps you are the Competitor.  They have a headache? You’ve had a migraine for days.  Their beloved pet died? You have three sad stories to top their heartache.  They have a muscle ache, but YOU need physical therapy.

Do you just launch into a monologue, barely taking a breath and not allowing the usual give-and-take of conversation?

Sometimes, the echoing silence on the other end of the couch is really on that end – your wife is lost in thought, your husband is anxious, your parent is depressed, or your teenager is preoccupied with stressors.  Perhaps there is some unresolved hurt between you. Perhaps, though, the person you love has fallen silent because they cannot trust you to stay in the conversation with them; they expect you to take over.

Reports, Commands and Rules

Many years ago, on the first day of class in the graduate-level course on Abnormal Psychology, our instructor held up the then-current version of the DSM (Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders) and said,

“Always remember…you never know what flick is playing in someone else’s head.”

Words of wisdom: much goes awry because we forget that simple fact.

Honestly, don’t you ever wonder if some people are actually going out of their way to deliberately misinterpret what is said?

Have you never sat in slack-jawed wonder at the psychological gymnastics required to wrest a particular interpretation from something that meant nothing of the kind, as you witnessed someone gallop away, flush with a gross (and possibly deliberate) misunderstanding?

Sometimes, there may be bad intentions, or at least the intention, all along, to make some point, whether or not it makes any sense in context. We see this often in every level of politics. Commentator Smith had a well-rehearsed point to be made during the allotted few minutes on-air and by golly, Smith is going to find a way to interject it even if it makes no sense in context. Smith hopes that the point thus calculatingly made is so clever, so memorable, that it will be the “take-away” point for most listeners, even though, within the transcript, it seems arbitrary at best.

Among the well-intentioned, the problem may sometimes be a lack of clarity…more often, I think, it is a lack of clarification.

In family therapy and family systems theory, we refer to a metacommunication concept called “Report and Command.” The “report” is what someone actually says. The “command” is the meaning of that statement to them. It is the hidden expectation. In a final exam question for a family therapy course, I give the following example:

Matthew states, “Susan never makes my favorite meal anymore.” From a metacommunication perspective, “Susan never makes my favorite meal anymore,” is the report. The command portion might be:

  1. “I feel hurt because she doesn’t care to do this for me anymore.”
  2. “…And she should make my favorite meal.”
  3. “because she knows I’m supposed to watch my cholesterol.”
  4. There is no command in this communication

Students are expected to pick an answer and defend it briefly. There are multiple “right” answers. It is telling that, given the statement, “Susan never makes my favorite meal anymore,” more than half the students regularly assume that the command – the hidden meaning – is b, “And she should…” rather than the plaintive option, a, or even the matter-of-fact and somewhat complimentary c. The choice of b, of going negative, tells them, and me, a lot about how they make assumptions about what people might mean, and points out the risk of assuming rather than clarifying the deeper meaning of even seemingly mundane remarks. Here, then, if Matthew is passively expressing hurt at his wife’s apparent disinterest in nurturing him, and Susan instead “hears” a chauvinistic, boorish demand that she slave over a hot stove, well, I may have an appointment open, week from Tuesday, at 6 PM.

Another recent example: a friend observed a parent telling a child engrossed in a video game that the child’s sporting event was to begin in 10 minutes. To only the parent’s surprise, this barely nudged a response from the child. The parent actually said, “Hey, your race starts in 10 minutes.” The parent believes he communicated, “Hey, dude, we gotta get going NOW so you can be in position for the race in less than 10 minutes.” Dad made a vague observation about time that meant nothing to a child and the child took it literally: Dad is updating me on the passage of time. I leave to your imagination the subsequent exercise in frustration for Daddy and his swimmer.

Some people claim they don’t have a lot of expectations. Nonsense. Of course they do. They expect the lights to go on when they flip a switch, though for the most part they know not how it happens. They expect politicians to magically create more jobs and higher wages. They expect their spouse to read their mind when they make that little throat-clearing noise and bulge their eyeballs at dinner with extended family or friends. They expect their loved ones to know what they might want for their birthday. We all have lots of other day-to-day subtle expectations, without which we couldn’t get through the business of living. There really isn’t time in a day to treat every iota of experience as a new and undiscovered country. Some things have to be on autopilot (which implies expectations, however buried they may be).

If you are happily married, you expect your spouse to come home; you expect compassion; you expect at least well-feigned interest in much of what you say. You probably have a reasonable expectation that certain tasks will be done and that you will be warned before in-laws or ne’er-do-well friends, down on their luck, take up residence on the couch. If, to your surprise, perpetually unreliable Cousin Pete has been invited for an extended and slovenly stay, you might reasonably say to your spouse, through gritted teeth in a whisper in the kitchen, “I had no idea your Cousin Peter was coming to visit,” (report) with the unsaid (command), “…and I am perfectly right to expect that you would have asked before letting him set foot in our house.” “But honey,” your spouse might say, “Pete’s family.”

Ah, the family card. Now we move from Reports and Commands to Rules.

Everyone has rules. Some rules are overt: my husband has asserted that I am not permitted to give up chocolate for Lent. This is one of a few rules in our house. Have I mentioned his strong survival instinct?

Most rules are not even verbalized; they are taken for granted, as if a law of nature. In the example of your spouse’s unwelcome cousin Pete, “family are allowed to be here without either of us consulting the other,” is apparently the inviter’s rule. You might be thinking, “Yeah, well, maybe a nice family member but not stinky, rude, mooching Cousin Pete,” or, “for dinner, maybe, but to sleep on my couch for some indefinite period of time, no!,” but, you see, that is an entirely different rule.

A lot of clashes arise because people have not clarified their expectations and their rules, both to themselves and to others; and because they speak in terms that they believe are perfectly clear when actually they are not clear at all. Next time you find yourself in a gross misunderstanding with someone you love, perhaps it would be worth revisiting whether you actually communicated what you thought in the privacy of your head…and to ask more questions about what someone means before you assume that what you heard is what they intended you to understand.

 

Dr. Lori Puterbaugh, LMHC, LMFT, NCC

© 2016

Posts are for information and entertainment purposes only and should not be construed to be therapeutic advice. If you are in need of mental health assistance, please contact a licensed professional in your area.