“It was the best of times; it was the worst of times.” Charles Dickens nailed my sentiment after a recent extended visit with my nephews.
Families are funny that way. They have a way of bringing out the most profound love and the most heart-wrenching sorrows. The best in us and the worst. In a word, families are complex.
I had known about our nephews coming for some time. Their visit was twofold: to vacation and to help with a renovation. Admittedly, I’m a bit of a planner, which led to a repeated question with a not-so-definite answer. “How long will they be staying?”
Shoulder shrug.
Deep breath. “Well, do you think you can find out?”
Silence.
Another deep breath. “Will you please find out?”
Finally, I hear a faint, “Sure.”
More deep breathing.
We were so excited for them to arrive and met them with warm hugs and an open house. Once they settled in, I casually asked, “So, what are your plans? How long will you be in the area?”
A shoulder shrug was the resounding answer. Deep breath. Followed by, “We haven’t given it much thought.” Even deeper breath.
In the days that followed, I was greeted every single morning by two 30-something-year-old men sitting at my dining table finishing a pot of coffee without leaving me even one sip. I struggled to tamp down my grumpy morning persona. It was not easy, considering there was no time for me to orient to being awake, no caffeine to aid the process, and a whole lot of talking that was difficult for my tired brain to comprehend. The jolt of it all felt like being pushed into an ice-cold shower.
The evening routine looked eerily similar. I arrived home wanting nothing more than quiet time—the ability to steal a few moments of silence with no one needing anything from me.
Instead, I was greeted with questions, loud talking, and the occasional whir of a power tool. I was beginning to feel a little like Snow White, minus the cheery disposition and cute little woodland creatures to help me clean.
Three weeks. That’s how long they were here. It’s also how long I sat in my car, blankly staring out the window or reading a book for some alone time. There was a point at about week two when we were done.
But it wasn’t their fault. We never set any guidelines, house rules, or boundaries for them to follow. We magically hoped they would read our minds and everyone’s needs would be met. It turns out we are not a family of mind readers.
For better or for worse, our families are the first to teach us about love and acceptance. They’re the first ones to teach us how to communicate with one another and where we learn to make meaning out of our experiences. Families teach us how to relate to others and ourselves.
It doesn’t matter who you are. Being with family for any amount of time creates the opportunity for you to get pulled back into your family dynamics, stories, and beliefs. Like a moth to the flame, I was right back in the middle of the family dynamics from which I had worked so hard to free myself.
The time with my nephews was filled with love, connection, and many unforgettable memories. It also included a heavy helping of self-imposed resentment, frustration, and exhaustion.
Week two brought with it the realization that we needed boundaries and a definitive “you don’t have to go home, but you can’t stay here date” if we were all to come out of this okay. I know. I’m a therapist. I discuss this stuff with clients almost daily in my practice. And yet here I am, wondering how I ended up in this exhausting and frustrating boundaryless place.
I will be the first to admit that setting boundaries is challenging, especially with family members. A special kind of guilt comes with asking for your wants and needs to be met when your family is involved. There’s an obligation to make yourself available at all costs. Boundaries often feel mean and offensive; you fear that you will make your family angry, which is usually enough to toss your needs out the window. You can handle your own discomfort. Theirs, well, it may be just a tad too much to bear.
Undoubtedly, the words will get hung up in your throat. But giving your wants and needs a voice (setting that boundary and sticking to it) is much better than the resentment and negative energy exchange that will happen otherwise.
It wasn’t easy calling a family meeting. We didn’t want our nephews to feel unwanted, but we needed our space before we came undone. Fighting through guilt, we spelled out the house rules and let them know when they needed to move on. Thankfully, they were incredibly understanding.
In the end, I re-learned a few things about boundaries. You need them. Yes, even you. They help your family (and others) learn how to treat you—what’s acceptable and what’s not.
Not all family members will understand or be respectful of your boundaries. When you come face-to-face with a boundary buster, it’s time to add consequences to the mix and follow through.
For example, a friend’s in-laws habitually brought their friends to her home for dinner. My friend set a boundary that her in-laws could no longer bring their friends to dinner uninvited. She wanted this time to be for family only. She expressed how connecting with so many people in the room was difficult. Further, she let her in-laws know that if they wanted to continue to invite their friends, they could also host dinners.
Her in-laws didn’t like the new rule. And, when they brought their friends to the next dinner, my friend, with the support of her partner, let them know that in the future, she was no longer hosting family dinners.
There was huffing and puffing, but in the end, my friend stuck to her boundary. Eventually, she felt less resentful and more empowered.
You will feel guilty when enforcing a boundary. I know I did with my nephews, and so did my friend. It’s not uncommon to worry that someone thinks you’re mean or too much for asking for your needs to be met. Boundaries work best if you know what you want and need.
Families are complex and boundaries are hard. It’s truly an art form of balance, understanding, speaking up for what you want and need, and doing it even when you feel that heavy weight of guilt.
As with most things, setting and enforcing boundaries is a muscle you can build over time and with practice. If the thought of speaking up for yourself makes you uneasy, it may be time to speak with a therapist. A therapist can help you home in on what you want and need from a relationship and help you prepare for that difficult conversation and the feelings that will follow.
Sheila Tucker is a licensed marriage and family therapist and founder of Heart Mind & Soul Counseling. She specializes in working with couples and individuals to better their relationships so they can connect more deeply to themselves and each other. When not in the office, you’ll find her walking her pups or planning her next mountain getaway with her husband.
