Chapter 1: A Weekend of Reflection

I was eagerly anticipating this weekend as my children were away at their father's, giving me the opportunity to binge-watch the latest season of Bridgerton. Settled on my couch, glass of wine at hand and a cozy duvet wrapped around me, I was chatting with friends on Zoom when my phone buzzed.

It was my teenager reaching out for a quick conversation. I paused my watch party to focus on him. He wanted to express his discomfort about spending the weekend at his dad's, where he and his siblings were staying.

For those who are new here, I was married to my college sweetheart for over 14 years, after dating for nearly 8 years. We have three boys together. My life took a downward turn about two years ago when I discovered that he was having an affair with a close friend, who was also married to a man who was his good friend. The betrayal was painful, but what hurt even more was realizing that they had been deceiving me for years. Whenever I attempted to address their closeness, both would gaslight and manipulate me. It took a toll on my mental health, leaving me feeling like a shadow of my former self before I finally found the strength to reclaim my life. That’s a story for another time, but today I want to discuss how the absence of boundaries can affect relationships.

Why share this context? Because boundary issues were a recurring theme during our relationship, and receiving that call from my teen last night triggered those memories. He confided that he couldn't sleep because he felt uncomfortable. From our chat, it became clear that his dad had invited a family of three to stay over the same weekend he knew the kids would be visiting. You might think there's nothing wrong with that, and you're right; however, he lives in a very cramped space. The children had to huddle together to sleep, which frustrated my teen because he couldn't understand why his dad wouldn't decline the visit, especially after not seeing them for over three weeks.

I encouraged him to talk to his dad and navigate the situation, but I also reassured him that he could call me for a ride if he ever felt unsafe. This conversation reminded me of all the times I tried to set boundaries with certain individuals or circumstances when I felt uncomfortable, only to be dismissed. He would often tell me my feelings didn’t matter and that I had to accept his decisions, regardless of my discomfort.

For instance, during the first year of our marriage, we frequently had guests staying with us, which felt less like visits and more like cohabitation. Initially, I was uncomfortable not because I disliked company, but because I was hoping for some quality time alone with him as newlyweds. When I brought it up, it often led to accusations that I didn't like his friends or family. He would even remind me that I grew up in a single-parent home, implying that I wasn't used to having many people around, which made me feel guilty for my discomfort. Over time, I learned to suppress my feelings and accept the situation.

Eventually, I realized that his lack of boundaries extended beyond just guests in our home; it also affected his availability to others. By then, I had been conditioned to stay silent, not voice my opinions, and believe that my feelings were insignificant. The events of last night resurfaced all these emotions, reminding me that my healing journey is still ongoing, and I have triggers that require attention.

When I prompted my son to express his feelings to his dad about the situation, he replied, "Mum, it’s okay. I just needed to share how I felt with you." This struck a chord with me, as I often found myself saying it was fine when I was uncomfortable. My feelings were frequently dismissed or twisted into something negative. Acknowledging my emotions helped me validate my son's feelings, but it also reminded me that I am still a work in progress. My emotions, as well as my children's, are valid and significant. I am consciously working to remind myself that his lack of boundaries is his responsibility. My focus should be on my own growth and validating my children's experiences. It's a challenging journey, but I believe we will get through it.

Chapter 2: The Impact of Emotional Turmoil

The first video, "Silent House - Crowded House," reflects themes of emotional struggles and the feeling of being overwhelmed, which resonates with my experiences of feeling crowded in my own home.

The second video, "Crowded House - Tombstone (live in San Francisco 2010)," captures live performances that delve into feelings of nostalgia and the weight of past experiences, paralleling my journey of healing and setting boundaries.