Your boundary reminder:



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(I recently read a very informative blog post & thought I’d share!)

http://www.morethanamess.com/boundaries/

I remember being in Africa when the word “boundaries” was first brought up to me. I had never been taught by my parents, or the religious organization I belonged to, that boundaries were okay, or more than that- necessary. I thought you always give grown ups their way, you say yes to everything your parents say (even when it can be harmful), and you don’t question your authorities. 

Boundaries seemed to be taboo.

Over a period of months, the concept slowly began sinking in. I clearly remember defining boundaries with my mother last year in order to start recovering from an eating disorder.

A year later, and with life looking way different, I’m once again reminded of how important my boundaries with her all. Not just with her, with everyone. It’s easy to allow the words and opinions of others to push us around. But which one of us wants to let another run the life WE’RE given?

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You, just like me, have your own life to live. Good choices, bad, they’re all yours. Sometimes, it’s the lack of boundaries that hold you back from living your life as you’d actually like. Boundaries sound a little heavy, like restraints, but in reality, they lead you to a life of more and more freedom. Ah, we love freedom.

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Joe.

You’re chattin’ with buddy Joe. It’s morning, gray outside, and you’d prefer a good ol’ cup o’ Joe over the read deal sitting right next to you. Joe depressingly shares the struggle he’s going through. You’re not sure if it’s still the loss of a cat he’s talking about, but all you hear is- ‘whine, complain, & “I’m a victim.”‘ 

“If HE thinks that’s hard, let ME tell him about the loss I’ve faced in my wise years.” You share your tragic grief and end with, “See Joe, I came through it! I’M not complaining. I’m making sublime lemonade from Life’s Lemons.”

One might argue that you are an encouragement, but another might say it’s pure disregard and insensitivity to Mr.Joe.

Take a child. In his curious eyes, your driveway is a really steep hill which he’s afraid to ride his bicycle (with training wheels) too fast on. For you, it’s a tiny slope where you mindlessly park your car daily. You breeze through it in 8 adult steps, or maybe 80 baby ones.

What is trauma for one, might not be for another. Joe’s tragedy might be cakewalk for you.

Cool, you’re cool. Cool! We’re all on our own journey. Even Joe Dirt was on quite the unique one. We have a choice: Will we destroy or will we listen and build up?

ZZ2E1A2C0E

Oh, HEY JOE!