By Joyce Alexander, RNP (retired)
Back in the days when wars were fought with bows and arrows, swords and slings, soldiers wore armor to protect themselves from the enemy’s weapons. Various kinds of armor were designed to protect the soldiers, while at the same time giving them the ability to move. At each of the places that were left open so that the soldier could move, there was a “chink” in the armor. This was where an enemy’s arrow, spear tip or sword could pierce between the plates on either side. So the term “chink in the armor” came to mean the places where we were vulnerable to attack, even though we were covered everywhere else by protective armor.
As far as I know, there was never any perfectly designed armor that would totally protect a soldier from weapons. Even the tanks and humvees of modern times, along with the “bullet proof vests” worn by our soldiers and policemen, don’t totally protect them from attack by enemies.
Our own armor
Each of us has some boundaries to protect us. Just as armor is for protection of soldiers, the boundaries are for protecting us in dealing with others ”¦ both friends and enemies. Boundaries are the armor that we use to keep others from wounding us. Boundaries prevent others from getting too close, stabbing us emotionally or piercing us to the core financially.
Of course, these boundaries keep people from closer, more intimate contact as well. The more boundaries we have between us and someone else, the less intimate we can be with them, the less trusting. However, we must have some boundaries with all other people ”¦ some limits that we place on how those people treat us, even people we love.
Boundaries in intimate relationships
In most marriages, one boundary is that sexual intimacy is reserved for the two of them only. This boundary is fairly frequently broken, though, with statistics showing that 60% of married men and 40% of married women have, at one time or another, violated that boundary at least once.
What is the consequence of violation of that boundary? Will trust ever be totally restored between those two people if that boundary is violated?
Another (usually) unspoken boundary between people who are in an intimate, loving relationship is that there will be no physical violence between them. Too frequently in our country, we read in the newspapers where this boundary is broken and domestic violence occurs. Should a person who has experienced physical violence from someone they love and are romantically involved with give that person another chance? And another?
Where do we draw the line?
Chinks in our armor
The “chinks in our armor” are those places between our boundaries were others can sink their weapons and wound us to the core. There is no way that any one person can have enough boundaries to protect themselves from any wound, physical or emotional, from everyone they know. If we could have, we would be like the soldier who was so encased in plate steel that he could not move, but was trapped inside a metal statue.
Sometimes though, the chinks in our armor are so large that we are very easily wounded, because our armor (boundaries) are so flimsy or loose that it is easy for a person to get around them and sink an arrow into our hearts. When we don’t set boundaries that protect us, we allow others to treat us with contempt and have no respect for our individuality. No respect for our person-hood. When this happens, people can repeatedly treat us with hostility and get away with it.
Reasonable boundaries
Having “reasonable boundaries” (and deciding what those boundaries are) is important for our healthy development. We must be able to stick by those boundaries when the going gets tough and people try to circumvent them. We must be able to stand up to someone and say, “I will not allow you to treat me that way,” or “If you want to have a relationship with me, then I must be able to trust you.” And mean it. We must be willing to walk away if someone is not willing to treat us with respect.
I’ve heard many (mostly) women say, “Well I took a vow ’til death do us part and I have to stick to it” when their husbands were cheating on them, beating on them, and not supporting their children. I never really understood why these women felt that their vows were important to keep, when their mate’s were out the window. The chinks in their armor were so wide that there literally was no armor, they just stood there while their spouses repeated “stabbed” them over and over.
It’s hard setting boundaries. I know. I’ve stayed when I should have gone. I’ve waffled when I should have stood firm. I’ve given in when I should have kept on fighting. But I’m learning. Day by day, as the occasion arises, I am learning to stand up for myself and to require others to treat me with the same kind of respect that I accord them. I am realizing that many times people will only treat me as well as I insist that they do. For those that won’t treat me well no matter what I do, then I just have to write those people out of my life.
I’ve come to realize that no vow I took, and no DNA donation I’ve received or made, allows others to treat me with contempt or disrespect. I’ve come to realize what my boundaries are, what I will tolerate and what I won’t, and to draw the line in the sand and stick by it. It will probably always be difficult, because I didn’t learn healthy boundary setting as a child. But the more I practice it the better I get, and the easier it is.
So close up some of those chinks in your boundary armor, and you’ll end up with fewer wounds to treat later.
Eralyn,
I hear your pain, and NO it would not have been any different in his behavior no matter what your boundaries were…but IF YOU HAD GOOD BOUNDARIES you would have left sooner. That’s the only difference. We don’t give them a chance to stab us AGAIN if we have good boundaries, that’s what was so hard for me to learn in setting boundaries.
I have told this story before but we had some “friends” (a married couple) that had been mentors for my son D since age 12 or 14 through scouts and they had worked for my husband and me before my husband’s death. Then for some unknown to me reason the wife started stealing from me…not big valuable items but ones tat were sentimental to me. That caused a BIG RIFT between us, but on the day my husband died, I did let her in to see him before he died (her husband was in the hospital and could not come himself) and after my husband’s death, while her husband was recuperating from his own serious surgery my son D and I helped them out in many ways. Then I realized that they were taking things from the farm…tools and stuff that had belonged to my husband and some how they ad decided that he “wanted them to have it—so another BIG RIFT—then while my son D and I were in hiding from my son Patrick, they had sold their house and were living in a motor home and they came out here and parked on the farm while we were gone. I didn’t really want them here but let them stay….and each day they seemed to be taking the farm and my house over more and more as their own (entitlement) and then one evening, I actually CAUGHT the woman stealing food out of my freezer in the middle of the night. FOOD THAT IF SHE HAD ASKED I WOULD HAVE GIVEN HER….and the horrible part was I cried for 3 days because I was so AFRAID I HAD EMBARRASSED HER BY CATCHING HER STEALING.
Now come on, Oxy! How can you have felt that way! Yep, I sure did. I was so worried I had hurt HER FEELINGS. But then I finally decided I had to set some boundaries and so I told them they hhad to leave “it just wasn’t working out”—they didn’t even ask why. But we all pretended we were still friends, and they still had a bunch of stuff here so I had son D and a hired hand or two move ALL their stuff into a building that I owned on the EDGE of the farm and said “nicely”—“please CALL before you come so you can make sure we are home and don’t waste your gas and find we are gone and the gate locked.” But caught the woman violating even that boundary….so made it a bit stronger and said “Next time call a day in advance” I never saw her again, but boy she was TIGHT JAWED the day I caught her trying to sneak here when she just KNEW I would be gone that day. LOL
They never did come get all the stuff they had stored in the building off the farm even though I gave them 90 days to do so, and so son D and I went down there and took what we wanted and left the rest to rot–also was INTERESTING THOUGH as we found all kinds of ODD things of ours that they had taken through the years. A box high school photos of my son D’s, and various kitchen implements, books, video tapes, living history costumes, dishes of various sorts, and a few tools…They were super hoarders too as well as thieves.
After they left my place they convinced another friend to let them live on his deceased parent’s farm, parked next to the old house which they were not supposed to go into…but they moved into the house, moved his brother there too, and the local police called the owner and told him they were dealing drugs out of the place….so he asked them to move on….and they have, but they no longer have any of the “good” friends they had before as they have used and abused every one of them. Both of them are working their way down toward homelessness at this point in time. But they have a long story about how everyone has done them “wrong.”
There was a good movie released not long ago – I’m trying to remember what it was – one of a series – but the wealthy bad guy (spath) snared people into his basement and killed them there.
I think it might have been the girl with the dragon tatoo.
The spath made a comment that his victims were far more inclined to be polite (and therefore get killed) than to be rude (and successfully run away).
Boundaries matter.
Do so appreciate this thread! The comments here are deeply insightful! I wish I could go to lengthS to type what it is I would like to say, but trying to type from this phone is at times an exercise in futility…
Skylar, you mentioned the ” selective grey rock” and the find it as such… my goodness that nailed it! That Is what I have been doing here in my home for months now as a matter of survival. And the “BACKSPATH”…YES! That nailed it as well. Talk about psychological warfare! Most of us can be counted as seasoned veterans and we have the scars to prove it. When I saw the word backspath, my mind said yes! Thats it! Since becoming fully aware of how this demon operates, and as I became aware of the fact that I was not crazy, as I begin to learn more and more about gas lighting, I have learned how to take his gas lighting and flip it around….. right now he is in damage control mode, as well as being caught in his own back draft. I would love to say more, but again it’s hard to type the words on this phone. thank you for such a wonderful article, Ox Drover And I’d like to thank each and every 1 of you for your insightful comments. Best wishes to all!
Dear Radar on, glad you are doing better and I hope that you have a full sized keyboard soon!
Great article and thread Oxy.
I for one didn’t have a clue what boundaries were or that we should have some for far too long and did much damage to myself as a result from a very young age.
Recently I decided I needed to define a boundary with my sister, to whom I have always considered myself close, and whose relationship I value. Unfortunately she has a habit of being rather mean spirited from time to time towards me, or just unnecessarily judgmental. She very rarely encourages or validates me, preferring to play the “devils advocate” in most cases.
She has said on numerous occasions “just because you are my sister doesn’t mean I have to be your friend” I have been careful to offer only positive feedback and not second guess or disparage her choices, actions etc in her own life. She has been battling cancer for the last 2 years and we have had many long talks about her situation.
Recently she trashed something I was quite proud of, verbally, and something she quite frankly knows nothing about. ( too long to explain, but I was telling her about something I felt proud of, in my work which was important because I had recently had some problems with superiors, and now they were being supportive etc) ).
I excused myself from the phone call and then stewed for a few days, realizing that I often felt worse after talking to her about my personal stuff.
As a result I wrote an email letting her know that her attitudes were hurtful and unnecessary
etc. and therefore I would no longer discuss the topic with her, which brings us to about the 4th topic I cannot discuss without getting into a tiff.
I knew I risked her choosing not to speak to me, as she has done in the past, once for two full years, but decided I needed to protect myself.
As expected, she has cut off communication which saddens me.
She lives alone on the opposite coast and is facing more cancer surgery and the holidays alone. She is my only surviving relative from my small immediate family.
My point is that setting boundaries can lead to losses that are hard to bear. I tell myself that if she cannot accept my boundaries she truly is not my friend in any event. If she routinely criticizes me or my actions but cannot take any feedback then I have made the right choice. Still painful tho’ as she is not a Spath or N, just a big sister who thinks that entitles her to reprimand and judge me.
In the past I have always been the one to initiate contact and try to communicate from a clean slate. Doesn’t seem to make sense to go back for more this time as she is letting me know she does not value my friendship.
Bottom line, setting boundaries means being prepared to pay the price, even when it hurts.
Setting boundaries and holding fast to them is the most difficult thing for me, and the most important. I wish I’d listened when, two years ago, my mother warned me that I had flimsy boundaries. I bought a book: Boundaries And Relationships: Knowing, Protecting, And Enjoying The Self–just in case she was right–but when I tried to read it I found the language a bit new-agey for me and put it down. In fact, it was on the bookshelf next to my bed when the Spath noticed it. He said gleefully, “What’s this?!” as he flipped it open. He laughed and read sections from it in a demeaning way, and something in my gut told me that this man should not know this vulnerability of mine.
I’ve been working on setting and following through with boundaries, but it’s difficult. I know how many of you disdain the idea of online dating, but the communications I’ve had there have taught me more about myself. Recently, I was exchanging long messages with a man who lives a couple of hours away. There was much about him (if he is actually who he claims he is) to like. The usual stuff. But there were a few yellow flags. He immediately said that it seemed we had so much in common. Ok, lots of guys say that, but it’s still a flag until proven otherwise. When I asked if he had many old friends in the area, since he lives not too far from where he grew up, he said that his friends had been closer to him than family, but after he broke up with his best friend’s sister, everyone had taken sides and shut him out, including separating him from his goddaughter. When I probed further, he said it hadn’t been quite so dramatic, but he’d been so disgusted by the fact that anyone was choosing sides when the parting had been mutual that he walked away from the drama. He did say that he’d had other long-term relationships since, and that he remained friends with some of his exes. But the story still sent up a big ole flag flapping in the wind. I said several times that I much prefer to meet in person because so much of what we learn about one another is through body language. He agreed, but then never made a move to actually meet. He also made several references to sex. I wrote a carefully crafted response that was lighthearted yet let him know that that kind of talk wasn’t welcome. He actually applauded me for this, and said he appreciated how I’d played that back to him, without ignoring it, writing him off, or going along with it when it made me uncomfortable. I told him I just wasn’t comfortable talking like that with someone I don’t know and have never met. For his part, he explained that he had a “sexual” sense of humor. Our correspondence continued well otherwise, and I flirted with him here and there, until Saturday, when he signed off with a note that he was either going to watch a movie or “flip through porn and beat myself up until I fall asleep.” Ugh. I was disgusted. My heart raced, and I felt nauseous all night.
On the off chance that he isn’t a Spath and is just a rude and slimy pusher of boundaries, I replied: “Perhaps I was wrong. It might be true that you can learn everything you need to know about a person over the Internet. It’s become pretty evident to me that you and I aren’t compatible in the ways that matter most. All best in your search for a woman who accepts that kind of disrespect. I know there are plenty of them out there.”
I told my close friends about it (who were also disgusted), even patting myself on the back for recognizing the signs early, and following through with immediate disengagement.
Then he answered that he’d only been joking, that his sarcastic tone hadn’t come across, and I hadn’t gotten the joke. He encouraged me to read it again and imagine how he might have been saying it. I was still determined to disengage, but I wanted to explain to him that the point wasn’t the tone–it was that he thought that was an appropriate thing to write at all. I hit send, and hoped that would be the end of it. But the next morning, in the light of day, I wasn’t as grossed out as I had been before. I didn’t plan on contacting him, but already I recognized that I’d relaxed that boundary. On an intellectual level, I was fascinated by this because I could clearly remember how disgusted I’d been before I went to sleep! Of course, he responded again, and this time he turned things around on me. Said I’d taken the joke the wrong way, and that he’d asked repeatedly for my number (which wasn’t true) so that we could hear each other’s voices rather than taking the chance of misinterpretation via email. And, “It’s unfortunate that things transpired this way but, it is also a strong indication of what I could expect for communication from you in the future.”
So here’s the part where he tried to turn it around and make it all my fault. The emails in which he tries to make me believe that I made a grave error, which is so unfortunate, because now he’s the one who doesn’t want to be with me.
And you see how it goes. And so did/do I. I made note of my own emotions throughout these exchanges, and continued as a practice exercise with myself. I knew I was playing with fire, and I told friends what I was doing so that they’d be able to hold me accountable. Ultimately, I was amazed that he was able to bait me so easily, and thankful that it was just an email exchange with some guy I’ve never met. I see more clearly now how important it is to not only trust your gut, to take note of the flags, and to be clear about your boundaries, but also to act immediately and decisively when those boundaries are violated and to not look back. Unfortunately, I had to hold my hand lightly over the flame to prove it to myself before I went No Contact. I had to practice with an encounter that was dangerous but didn’t leave me devastated. But I shudder to think that I might well have let his comment slide if he’d been right in front of me with a wink, and that sexy body and those gorgeous cheekbones…
Hilary,
BRAVO!! Well done. I applaud you for going out and working on your boundaries. I love that you are getting back on the horse yet making sure that you are staying safe. Your ability to examine your own emotional responses is going save you.
You were lucky too, that he didn’t meet you before he tested your boundaries because it gave you time to think about your response. As Athena has mentioned, part of our boundary problem is that we don’t like to be rude. So our automatic response to being slimed was to pretend we weren’t offended.
This guy used all the classic manipulations. He tested your boundaries by being offensive and then, when you were offended, he blamed you for misunderstanding him. hmm… where have I seen that pity ploy before…? It sounds vaguely familiar…
Of course it’s never the spath’s fault. lol.
Then there is the “I was only joking” boundary test: They like to test and when the test meets a boundary, they say they were only joking. sick — and old.
I’m very impressed with your insight. It’s easy for us to armchair quarterback on the blog, but when we are in a situation with a spath, we get confuddled. No matter HOW good you are in theory, the actual experience is like Alice in Wonderland.
@hilary:
“But I shudder to think that I might well have let his comment slide if he’d been right in front of me with a wink, and that sexy body and those gorgeous cheekbones””
I just try to remember what that body is hiding…a black heart and no soul. No emotions, no conscience, no remorse, no regrets, no responsibility for pain caused to others. Ever. A snake, a swine, a thief, a liar, a conman…and on and on. And I NEVER want to be associated with another one ever again.
That’s great, that you actually tested HIM and he failed and you gave him an “F” and moved on. The more we educate others about sociopaths, the more power they lose over us. Good. For. You.
Hilary, TOWANDA for you!!!!!
Your gut was screaming at you at every opportunity, and you finally “got it!” I am SO looking forward to trusting my gut instincts. Seriously.
Even today, I have to force myself to disallow the cog/diss where other people are concerned. I have to actively disallow myself from making excuses for what I previously would have termed “oddball” or “off-color” remarks or responses. One of the issues that I’ve had with regard to this is attempting to “understand” the reason that someone would make these types of remarks, etc. – there HAD to be “A Reason,” even if it was their so-called “sexual humor.” Well, whether that person meant what they said or they blow it off like it was a joke, I cannot allow that to fly with me because it defines “GLIB.” And, from my experiences, the first wee, tiny Red Flag that pops up is “glib” remarks.
Good for you, Hilary! Honestly, good for you!!! And, you’re right – nobody (and, that means NObody) has any business knowing about your vulnerabilities.
Brightest blessings!!!
Hi, hi…
Round 4 ensued and, well, here I am AGAIN. This time my spath asked my dad for permission to marry me. He came toy house and told me what he did!
About 4 months went by and a giant argument broke out over me feeling as though I wasn’t being supported/considered. He didn’t get it…at all. We argued for 1.5 days and the day after Thanksgiving rolled around. I decided I was done w fighting and tried making nice. He was having nothing to do with it. We continued fighting some more and got even more heated to the place where he told me I had ‘no parental rights to (his) my son! You (me) are not his parent and can not undermine me!’ There was no undermining! I have his son an option to eat for dinner!!! Needless to say, I engaged replying ‘you want to draw the line and use your son as the delineation? Ok…this is MY house and you can’t come here and make yourself at home! You have to ASK me for a drink, or a shower, or food…it’s all MINE and well carry on like that!’
Well… He got PISSED! Told me I didn’t have to worry about th being at MY house anymore because after dinner ( yes, he was still gonna eat) they were ‘leaving.’ Now, every other time when hex ‘left’, he’d packed all his belongings and scooted himself right out. These have been break ups! THIS TIME, though, it wasn’t going to be. I began pulling his things out of the closet, assuming he was breaking up as he walked in to the room asking what I was doing.
Me-I’m getting your stuff out. You said you were leaving, right?
Him-(surprised)I am, but I wasn’t going to break up. I was going to get space from you.
Me-how was I supposed to know you just needed space? Every other time you’ve left you’ve packed all your stuff n left.
Him-(snidely) Nooooooo, I’ll take my stuff, don’t worry, yeah…ill take it home.
He took his things only to return to ask me for a hug!!! I told him to just go.., he did an I hadn’t heard from him for 3.5 days. He sent a text..,
Him-we need to talk n figure the rest of this out. I’ve got some things there still and your keys
Me-ok, let me know when
Tomorrow it will be a week since he sent the text. I’ve not heard one word from him. I’m so confused!