Broken Boundaries: A Cleansing Rant

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We had known for over a year that it was coming. . . SO much had been put on hold as a result. . . We didn’t know how much time we had or how much notice we would get. . . We just knew that it would be a time in our life together that was to be truly OURS, a time to establish a solid foundation for our future. . . A grand opportunity! Now, FINALLY, the time has come (& gone): we packed up & moved from Washington State to Arizona for the handsome husband’s job.

It is a happy time. We’ve planned (& planned some more) to ensure that we can handle any curveballs that are thrown our way. . . In the weeks since leaving Washington, I have experienced a wide range of emotions — everything ranging from relief to anxiousness, elation to pure exhaustion. . .  Most recently, however, a certain series of events have transpired that have left me feeling hurt, angry, &, well, bitter  — stifling the joy of this time. I’ve struggled briefly with how to rid myself of this nasty taste in my mouth & have decided that this is my way to get it out of my system so it can no longer be toxic to me. . . So. . . 

It started before we even left Washington — while we were still in the relaxed stages of packing up our little two-bedroom apartment. I will only give vague details, (in the interest of some kind ofprivacy for the other party). Trying to be forthright about our intentions for this new phase in our life, I set boundaries that (so I thought!) would help eliminate misunderstandings or frustrations, particularly during & just after our move. These boundaries were discussed multiple times with all parties involved & it was expressed — on multiple occasions — that these boundaries were not only tolerable, but also reasonable, agreeable & understandable.

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Yet, as the weeks passed, after we loaded up our moving truck & drove across a few states on this “adventure” that we have been planning & critiquing for over a year, somehow it was deemed that the boundaries that were so recently agreed upon should be trampled on. Even more so, the other party has demonstrated such a sense of entitlement (& hunger for drama & attention) that I doubt they ever took to heart the many conversations of the recent past. Names were called (by both sides, I will admit) & an attempt was made to make ME feel like I betrayed trust or something — which is downright preposterous. I simply upheld the agreed upon boundaries — even allowing a few exceptions as they seemed appropriate.

This other party has had such a lack of respect on this, ignoring nearly all well-intentioned advice & then staring doe-eyed when things blew up, expecting someone to swoop in & rescue — playing a fiddle to the masses, trying to drum up sympathy for this plight that they’re in when it’s all a direct result of their own choices.

I am tired of cleaning up other people’s messes & “mothering” people who are not mine to mother. It is time for others to start putting on their “big girl panties” & figuring out how to make their own way in the real world. When help is expected instead of appreciated, I can no longer let someone keep draining me; I am already too emotional of a person. . . It doesn’t mean I love you any less, but it does mean I do not like you at all right now. Tough love. Suck it up, (& I will do the same).

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I wash my hands & I pray you let God look out for you, because I can no longer. My mother would be so proud of me — & not in the low-blow, unwarranted, viciously heartless kind of way YOU tried to refer to. Regardless, I really do wish you the best & I hope you figure it out sooner rather than later. . .Reta Jayne

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Reta Jayne

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By Reta Jayne

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I am Reta Jayne. I help women learn to love themselves again (or more!) through no-bull discussions about mental health, self-care, & more. Click the email icon to subscribe to & communicate with me via email.

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Do not love the world or the things in the world. If anyone loves the world, the love of the Father is not in him.
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