By Charissa Kim Allen
Effective boundary setting allows us to be the most generous in relationships. As an Asian American woman in the field of psychotherapy, I am very aware of the over-simplistic Western connotations of the word “boundaries.” Steven Yeun’s character says it well in the recent Netflix show Beef: “Western therapy doesn’t work on Eastern minds.” For some of us, the idea of boundaries might elicit images of cutting off ties with kin to pursue individualistic dreams, keeping to one’s comfort zone instead of stepping into servanthood, or villianizing communal values that have held our ancestors and heritage together throughout space and time. Something inside many of us, as deeply communal people, accepts the idea of boundaries while holding some suspicion or nonidentification.
I want to posit the idea of boundaries as something that maintains and promotes our ties to one another — especially in our communal contexts. In fact, the higher the relational value in a context, the more boundaries are necessary for flourishing. I have come to understand boundaries as that invisible but solidified line that borders our Self that denotes where I end and the other begins. As we become more in tune and integrated with ourselves, we gain the agency and choice to open up doorways embedded in that border line. With choice, we open doors at times to risk connection, empathy, and vulnerability. And with choice, we close them at times to protect what is precious within us- including our capacities, sensitivities, needs, and limitations.
So how do boundaries grow our generosity?
For those of us whose social location includes Asian American women, particularly in Christian leadership, our general reality is that we have been given a uniquely skewed narrative of generosity. Many of us have grown up with the narrative that we have a unique burden to give. Whether it comes from values, worldviews, or traditions rooted in our ancestry, family systems, communities, or spiritual communities, the message is often this: give, placate, sacrifice, yield, serve, and adjust. To do so makes us more kind, exemplary, mature, holy, loyal, “Christlike.” In other words, we are taught that giving and adjusting to others at all costs makes us more generous.
But to only give, without exceptions, limitations, or boundaries, we grow further from true generosity. We become burnt out. We store bitterness at others’ unrestricted access to ourselves and resources, and the resentment eventually starts to seep out sideways. We find avenues to cope through toxic escape or control behaviors. We become anxious about never doing or being enough, because there is always someone or something else to give to. Most importantly, we lose our sense of self. Our identity is so wrapped up in giving without limitation that our Self border line is fuzzy and elusive.
In my work integrating faith and psychology, I continue to learn the centrality of balanced give and take in healthy and sustained relationships. If this balanced give and take is like flowing streams of water between two people, unbalanced give without take (or give without boundaries) is like trying to force life out of a dried and empty desert. Our over-adjusting, unnuanced, self-protective “giving” is really just compulsive obligation. When there is no choice in the matter, we cannot truly love or offer generosity.
Boundaries do not take away our give. Rather, it promotes the restoration of balanced give and take. Taking into account our limitations and needs, boundaries give green, yellow, and red lights to what enters and exits our system. As we grow more self-attuned with our bodies, gut, mind, and emotions, we start to recognize when we, for example, have given 200% of ourselves while receiving 10% from the other. And here’s the key: in order to minimize resentment and maximize the potential for love and choice in that relationship, our Self center promotes a boundary. In other words, boundaries protect the long-term relationship. Our boundaries may sound like:
“No.”
“Not right now.”
“I will let you know…”
“I need…”
“Can you…”
Especially if our relationships are used to our placating, pleasing, and need-meeting, boundaries risk disappointing the other person or system. However, they protect the possibility that the relationship can be sustained in the long run, because all parts of the relationship are operating within their capacities. To note, our capability is different from our capacity. Capability measures what we are able to do- even if it is far beyond a point of desire. Capacity, similarly to boundaries, is that line in the sand which acknowledges what we can give while still protecting desire, choice, and natural limitations. Capacities promote flourishing in the individual system which makes way for flourishing in the relational system.
Imagine with me a generation of Asian American women leaders living within their God-given capacities, rather than running themselves to the ground purely focused on their capabilities. Imagine the generosity that would flow from so many securely connected Selves. I imagine more of us leaders making intentional choices to say “no” to make it possible for our yes’ to truly be yes’. I imagine the inclusion of self care in our weeks that help us create lives we don’t want to escape. I imagine the non-anxious, undistracted, attuned presence we would offer to congregation members, clients, and teammates. I imagine less resenting and more delighting. I imagine sustained energy, charged internal batteries, and the restoration of choice that fuel our continued call to generous peacemaking.
“Lord, you alone are my portion and my cup; you make my lot secure. The boundary lines have fallen for me in pleasant places; surely I have a delightful inheritance.” -Psalm 16: 5-6
Charissa Kim Allen is an Associate Marriage and Family Therapist working out of Orange County, where she lives with her husband and baby girl. As a former campus minister, minister’s wife, and lifelong pastor’s daughter, she is passionate about the mental, emotional, and relational health of Christian leaders as well as Asian American family systems.
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