One of These Things is Not Like the Other

We took our new baby out for a neighborhood stroll the other day. As we walked past our neighbors house, husband said, "hey, let's go show Clair the new baby. She's asked to meet her several times but it's always been when she's napping". Now this may seem like a fairly innocuous request to all ya'll, but it made my blood run cold. And here's why.

The house in question belongs to our 60 year old neighbor, who lives in the home with her 90 year old mother whom she cares for full time. Clair is her 7 year old granddaughter who visits on the weekend and has been desperate to meet the new baby. We live in the house across the street, which was built by our 60 year old neighbors father and used to house her grandmother and great aunt. So this house, our house, was like a second home to her growing up, and in fact, she and her sister were very careful who they sold the house too for that exact reason. Dylan and I were very lucky that they took a shine to us, as they say. The sisters were more interested in preserving the family friendly dynamics of the neighborhood than they were in turning a profit. But I digress.

The reason I felt squirrely about just walking up to our neighbors house and knocking on the door has to do with my own boundaries re: visitors, and a fairly uncomfortable exchange I had with said neighbor back in August. Let's set the stage, shall we?

My toddler is currently potty training, and I (pregnant as HELL) had just asked her MULTIPLE TIMES if she was all done going potty, as we had been sitting on the toilet reading books for about 15 minutes. Well, she had. My giant-as-a-whale ass was perched precariously on the edge of the tub, getting exponentially more uncomfortable by the millisecond. Toddler hopped down, washed hands, and before I could say bibbidi-bobbidi-boo, had wandered into the living room bare ass naked and peed on the living room rug like a puppy. Which she kind of is, I suppose.

I diapered her, put her down for her nap, ripped my cumbersome 8x10 rug up off of it's velcro base to throw in the wash (thank you, ruggable) and in the process got pee on my dress. And it was at that moment that I knew I was done for the day.

D.O.N.E.

I texted Dylan (who was at the gym) that exact sentence, took of my dress and, fuck it, everything else and crawled into bed with a bag of goldfish to watch Enchanted. Halfway through the movie I decided to swap out the goldfish for a bag of skittles (it was that kind of day) and waddled into the kitchen. Upon arriving at my destination, I was confronted with my neighbor, standing on the back porch, peeping through the back door window. I screamed, jumped backwards into the hallway and shouted for Dylan to come quickly. He talked with her, sent her on her way, and I wandered naked back to the bedroom to calm down. I waited about 10 minutes then gave her a call.

Neighbor: Hello?

Me: Hey, it's Tiziana!

N: Oh hey Tiziana how are you?

Me:

I'm good! I just wanted to call and let you know, when you were standing on our back porch this afternoon I came into the kitchen naked as the day I was born.

N:

Oh Tiziana! I am SO SORRY! I didn't even see you!

Me: That's because it scared the shit out of me and I jumped back quickly and called Dylan to come to the door. The thing is, I just wanted to call and let you know, I am 8 months pregnant in the middle of August in the south. I intend to be naked quite a bit. And after this baby is born, I'll be breastfeeding so it's gonna be boobs out all the time for the next 6 months. In the future, it might behoove you to all or text before you just come over.

N: Oh goodness Tiziana, I'm so sorry! It won't happen again! I just didn't know if Aurora was asleep and didn't wanna knock on the front door cause I figured the dogs might bark and wake her up.

Me: Which was correct! Thank you for not knocking on the door, that is exactly what would have happened and the baby was asleep. But that's why calling or texting first is the right thing to do - make sure we are home, awake, dressed for God's sake, and ready for visitors. Unless you want to see me in my birthday suit, in which case, please continue to come over unannounced.

N:

Oh goodness Tiziana no! Oh my no, I'll just call next time. I'm so sorry!

The rest of the conversation ended in a fairly innocuous manner. However, here I was now, about to do the thing I had so recently requested my neighbor not do. Namely, show up unannounced. What's a girl to do?

I mentioned this casually to Dylan and he said, "it's fine. I knock on her door all the time". And that right there's the rub. Is it, fundamental, ok to have different boundaries than other people? Is it ok to ask someone to hold a boundary for me, that they do not then ask me to hold for them? I've thought about this a lot the last few days and I have decided that yes, yes it is. And here's why:

Not all of us have had the same path of destruction, and so not all of us are going to have the same path of reconstruction. Let me say that a different way; not all of us have the same childhood, the same trauma, the same family systems, the same birth order, the same astrological sign, the same social class, the same racial makeup, the same anything and so not all of us are going to have the same boundaries. Not all of us will need the same things for us to feel safe with one another. For some people, "on time" is within an hour or so of the predesignated time frame, for some people, "on time" is 5 minutes ahead of schedule. Some people prefer pie, some prefer cake. You say tomato, I say tom-ah-to.

Ya'll feel me.

I think the trick is not just making space for other people's tomato without sacrificing my tom-ah-to, but recognizing that we are all different, have different gifts, and being thankful for what we can learn from one another whilst still holding space for how we are. It's this great balancing act. Because the thing is, I love my neighbor. I do! I love that she knows what's going on in the neighborhood at all times, that she brings capri suns and cheese sticks whenever she sees my kid and I at the little playground by her house. I love that she finds random bits at the dollar general and brings them over for Aurora. I don't do things like that because I assume that other people, like me, don't want me wandering into their life unannounced. But I'm glad she's like that, because it creates balance in my neighborhood. When the war between Russia and Ukraine broke out, Dylan really wanted to make cookies for our Ukrainian neighbors. Again, this is something I would never have thought to do - makes me SUPER uncomfortable because of my own boundaries. But we did. We made cookies and walked down to the end of our street and knocked on doors. Using a translator app to convey both our condolences and our cookies, we handed over our plates of sweets and cried with the mothers and grandmothers who live in our midst and were watching their homeland go up in flames. It shifted something in our lives and our previously standoffish neighbors began waving to us and smiling when we walked past. It built a sort of bridge that would have never been built if Dylan was not a bit looser with his boundaries than I am. And I am eternally grateful.

That being said, it's not bad that my boundaries are what they are. The fact that I'm the way I am has created a sense of predictability in our home - we know what's going to happen and when. Dylan says that I bring a sense of stability to his life, to his home, and that he's grateful for that. But it takes both of us to create this life. I'm the brakes and he's the gas, so to speak, and together we make the car go. But without him, I'd be stalled out in the driveway and without me he'd go headlong into a brick wall.

So I'm gonna sit with that this week and I invite you to do the same. To be both grateful for those in my life who have different boundaries than me and what I can learn from them, but still hold my own in the process. But there's a part two - being gracious and kind about other people's boundaries that are different from mine, and being grateful for those people who respect my boundaries even though they are different from theirs. I think it's what living in community is all about. Not that we all become one homogeneous cluster like the Borg, but that we honor and acknowledge the very differences that make our community vibrant. It's certainly something to think about anyway.