BOUNDARIES

 

We all have them or should. Some people take them too far, others not far enough. Those of us who’ve been alone a long time seem to have the most rigid ones. I’ll admit I’m one of these.

My stepmother had been alone for almost 30 years before taking up with Dad. She was stone set in her ways with everyone but him. She was his mistress for 18 years.  And if you knew my mother, you’d understand how she was able to finagle her way into our lives!

After my mother’s death, Dad was free to wed her. Before the marriage, she treated my father like royalty. Afterward she alone, ruled the roost. We couldn’t make a move in our own home without first consulting her. My father always made excuses for her, even later when she was displaying clear signs of Alzheimer’s.

But fortunately, and thanks to me, and the high price I paid, he couldn’t pretend forever.

Fast forward to the year 2000. My father was paralyzed on his left side from a stroke and was in a rehabilitation hospital for an entire summer. Every day I visited and wheeled him to all his physical therapy classes.

One morning about 10 minutes before the start of his first class, my father pointed to the therapy room across from him. It led thru into his first session in the adjoining room. He instructed me to take this as a short cut, rather than wheel him all the way around.

Inside, everyone was setting things up. The physical therapist was a muscular man around age 30. He said nothing but made it clear with his chilling stare and body language that I was unwelcome there! His stare reminded me of a snake ready to strike.

The following day, I told my father never again, were we entering that room! We’d continue to take the long way around. I didn’t like the threatening look that man gave me. My father said he noticed and understood.

I have plenty of my own boundaries. Unlike my mother, I don’t give escorted tours of my home. A practice I’ve always found unnecessary and questionable. All but a few rooms of mine are off limits to visitors. Any place they can’t see, they have no business going.

My mother used to say that she loved showing off our home because others were curious. Well, my home is not a tourist attraction, it’s my private space! When I was younger, there were people who probably wondered what I looked like naked. That didn’t mean I was going to put myself on display. I’d rather they remain curious.

And when someone disrespects me, they are expelled from my life fast!