Why Does Setting Boundaries Feel Mean?

"I never get what I want.  It's just my lot in life." I slumped, overcome with frustration.

That day, in my counselor's office, I felt the full weight of defeat.  My words were a kind of white flag and I didn't have the strength to figure out how to keep fighting for something that felt like it was nothing.

What he said next not only surprised me, but turned out to be absolutely true over time.

We'd talked about people-pleasing (known in the counseling world as codependency) as a sort of selling of one's soul for the sake of peace or relationship. At this point, the feeling of my own soul-less-ness grew with each passing month.

He said, "Heather, I've got some good news for you. But it's not what you're probably expecting. The good news is this: you get to become a Christian asshole."

I laughed out loud.

I couldn't figure out how me being an asshole had anything to do with getting what I wanted out of life, but I trusted this man, and he'd definitely secured my attention.

He went on, "We're taught, in Evangelical Christianity, that being "nice" is essentially godliness.  This "niceness" steals our ability to own our souls and develop a solidness in our identity in Christ. So, tell me how being "nice" has served you in your marriage, or in your friendships."

My mind's eye played back countless relationships where I saw myself agreeing with things I didn't agree with, or laughing at comments that I didn't think were funny. Worse, I saw myself remaining silent when my husband treated me in ways I felt were rude, but didn't say anything because I was afraid of what his response might be. I didn't like anger, especially his, and especially when it was pointed at me.

But what was worse was the discovery, over the ensuing months and years, that I'd allowed rude or disrespectful behavior to continue by not saying anything, or by saying something that was indirect enough that it was not clear to him I wanted him to stop. There's no excusing his part of the problem, but I played an equally destructive part.

My counselor wasn't actually telling me to be an asshole to my husband, let's be very clear about that.  But it FELT to ME that I was being one, as I began to employ boundaries in my marriage.  I'd been a pushover, and now I was being clear and firm.  The difference felt scary and mean, to be honest. It wasn't, though. 

I must add that what I was actually learning to do was love my husband well.  "Love your neighbor as yourself."  Just imagine: if I was harming someone with my words, and they didn't tell me but let me continue to inflict pain, I would feel awful when I eventually discovered my mistake. I would want to know that what I was doing was hurtful to them. When I wasn't clear and firm with my husband over how I felt he was treating me, in reality, I was loving him very poorly. This truth had never, ever occurred to me before. I was more concerned about protecting myself from his reaction if I pushed back at him.  

Do you want to know what's ensued since I've stepped out of "nice" and into boundaries? A million wonderful things - better communication with my husband (and my kids, too), the feeling of owning my soul which means I don't have to laugh when I don't think something's funny, and I can walk away (kindly) from a situation without wondering what the other person will think of me.  It's freedom.

We have a lot of struggle with real love in our culture. It seems we've lost our way. I want to be a voice of sanity in the midst of confusion. We somehow have believed the lie that you can either be nice, and therefore a pushover, or you can be a mean jerk and have boundaries. The truth is that you can be kind, loving, and firm, which honors everyone's dignity in the situation. It might just feel like you're being a jerk at first.