Respecting Boundaries

I close my eyes and it's still quite easy for me to bring myself to those moments. Moments that hold time still, long enough for your eyes to focus on what you now realize was a clouded perspective...

I always struggled with blame. The blame placed upon me every time things weren't done to other's satisfaction. It was easiest to blame me, then to dig into the uncomfortable root of truth. I could feel the warmth under my skin, as the insult stung each and every time. But this was different...

From the first ring, I could feel each heartbeat press against my chest. Party invite meant social gathering. Social gathering meant exposure. Exposure meant two weeks of mental torture, around the clock wondering if the shortness of breath was COVID or my asthma. If the cold-like symptoms were COVID or my allergies. Was it really that hard to understand that someone was having a hard time facing our "new normal?" Was it really that hard to respect their decision without judgment, without criticism, without negativity? Yes. It was. The realization was a bucket of cold water dumped over my entire being. The cold, hard truth, that the people I imagined would surround me and embrace me in empathy and love, were the first to cast shame on me.

For months I carried the shame of not showing up. I felt the judgment on my back. Different areas of my skin would light up with goosebumps, as if reacting to the energetic comments verbalized in my absence. As if warning me of whose energy I needed to reassess.

I regretted not attending, because of all the misplaced feelings.

Yet another party invite came not too long after... I attended to keep the peace, but I was anything but.

Hypervigilance at its finest peak. I played every step, every move, every greeting, every single movement in my mind as we pulled out of our driveway. Reaching for the doorknob (touchpoint), keeping a safe distance without offending anyone, opening the cooler (touchpoint), limiting myself to a coke can so as to avoid the additional steps of grabbing a glass, filling with ice, pouring from a bottle, etc.

Made my way to the backyard as fast as possible without seeming rude. Another doorknob (touchpoint). Fresh air! Not so fast, yard had more than the "just us" invites. I chose a corner under a tree. Standing below the canopy of its branches comforted me.

When the celebration of the night hit its climax, I felt as though I was observing from above, but with a heaviness inside my heart that reminded me of the physical density I stood within. My awareness was drawn to glance across the yard from me. I was met with a satisfied expression across your lips. An expression that brings tears to my eyes to this very day.

I was drowning inside.

Having had an actual near drowning experience while on vacation once was terrifying. But it didn't come close to this.

I stood on dry ground. On a solid concrete surface, yet my mind and my heart were fighting depths I never fathomed. I leaned against the bar, ensuring only my elbow touched the surface. I was dwindling. I was nauseated. I was losing a battle with myself. I was never more thankful for a mask than I was at that moment. While everyone partied and enjoyed each other's company, I was dying inside. Tears filled the inside of my mask. Breathing was becoming more difficult. I prayed for strength. I prayed to keep my composure. Focused on my breathing. The feeling of doom grew heavier in my stomach. I closed my eyes and kept repeating... "I am safe, I am healthy, God's got me."

I like to tell myself you didn't notice, but your gaze on me felt like it stripped the mask and revealed every tear, every fear and every ounce of anguish. Yet somehow, I felt as though that did not matter.

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Even though I have always found it quite easy to stand up for myself, and very seldomly been afraid to voice my opinion, I allowed external judgments question what at my core I knew was right for me. When others misplace their expectations on us, they are willingly unloading disappointments within themselves. It is not our responsibility to fulfill their wishes. It is our obligation to remain true to our feelings, true to ourselves. No one understands you better than YOU.

You never know what someone is going through. You never know the depth of their struggles. Be kind. Be gentle, and if you can't show them grace, simply respect their boundaries.

With Sincerest Love,

Juana