Redrawing boundaries as an adult woman
This comes with reading a room, dropping some fights, fighting others, and walking away from noise that does not need your voice
What are boundaries? A question that as one grows older, one must recognise and define. Are they thresholds? Or simply junctures that define the moment that you no longer live with old, unhealthy, often traumatic patterns.
I’ve spent the last few weeks at my parents home with my parents and siblings, merging my work-life, fitness routine, and leisure time with that of my family members. As a 31-year old woman, who chooses to come home, reclaim her childhood space, and create new boundaries, is an act of resistance. I walk into my home, the air of which says I’m not welcome enough. I am welcome again as a married woman.
This might sound ordinary, but it isn’t. This was not the life my mother had foreseen for me, and yet this is the version that offers clarity and strength to remain honest and vulnerable to an uncertain life.
This short piece is a collection of such boundaries and thresholds that make me adult:
Sitting in my maternal uncle’s bedroom, working on an essay and the adults are taking their morning tea. As an adult, I’m not expected to sit next to them, as a child, I’m not expected to stay asleep.
The subtle knocks my family members make on each other’s doors, fully aware of the stillness that we can be in - despite living together. On some days, I might be on work calls, on others just resting, but to enter that space, each one in our home, knocks and respectfully acknowledges the presence of the other.
Choosing which arguments to participate in and which ones to let go. This time my mother complained about a sense of withdrawal that I carry in family conversations. A core part of that is simply recognising that my energies are limited on a given day and this means not joining every argument, everyday. Sometimes, silence is the protest.
“To love is not about merging. It is a noble calling for the individual to ripen, to differentiate, to become a world in oneself in response to another. It is a great, immodest call that singles out a person and summons them beyond all boundaries. Only in this sense may we use the love that has been given us. This is humanity’s task, for which we are still barely ready.” - Rainer Maria Rilke.
Some boundaries require more effort than others. Within my nearest family circles, I am now looked at with acceptance for becoming the woman I am and at the same time - expected to deliver some promised.
Boundaries have also lead to distances. In the time I spent at home, I was working during the day, catching up with my siblings, and having meals with the family. Amid all, my parents and I barely got time to just sit and be. I snatched some of those instances when watching the pre-monsoon showers grace our front yard, or taking a late night stroll, sometimes over evening tea - yet the conundrum of an adult child spending time with one’s parents is the choosing to distance and yet be close.
My parents respect boundaries - they’ll knock when they come in, won’t disturb me on calls, naturally not interrupt when I’m working, and this is what creates a gap. We often miss each other completely. In order to bridge it, we try to work on ensuring we dedicate time towards each other. Not for a purpose, not because we have some work to do, but because this is how we know each other.
Maybe, that’s what love is.