The author of the section, our new editor, is a girl who was never able to choose a pseudonym and chose to remain incognito. Column about relationships, love, psychology, men, personal experiences and the girl’s inner world (for 30).
I just started somehow somehow to cope in order to determine my own boundaries and not let anyone in there. Suddenly such an incredible discovery: the intruder is me.
When a loved one fell ill and refused treatment, then with all the force I felt on myself how easy it is to forget about any boundaries if you are scared and you are injured. In addition to my own horror, the voices of our wild sociocultural heritage, crying out for conscience, duty and shame, fell upon me with a loud rumble. I myself said this to myself: I had to help, my conscience could not sleep peacefully, it would be a shame to live on without interfering. Some acquaintances, active neighbors, endless experts-in-life-and-any-issues-all were shaking the air with calls to do something immediately. I was ready for anything, if only the case moved off the ground. It is very easy to break other people's borders and not notice anything, especially if it’s for the good. Therefore, violence so often arises from love and desire to help a function. When I so earnestly seek to help or love, whose problems and tasks do I really solve?
After all, the truth is that it is impossible to help someone who does not ask for help. Even if it seems to us that this person is not right or cannot ask for it due to some circumstances, even then you just need to find the strength and respect in yourself to accept this fact. No matter how sad and hard it is to observe someone else's decision, it is necessary to live this thought that this is my sadness, my fear of death and my loneliness, not another.
Often we violate boundaries because it is vitally important for us to preserve at least the illusion of choice, the inconclusiveness of decisions and the ability to influence something else. Sometimes we are not so much trying to help or love, as we demand to live according to our rules and scenarios and get angry that they destroy our illusion of control over all living things in the world. We always rush about on these swings from a sense of our own grandeur to a feeling of complete insignificance, rarely lingering in the middle. Not to intervene, not to force and recognize the right of another person to live his life as he wants, and not to accept your help or love – this requires real courage.
But also in situations where our love and care are accepted, it is easy to cross the line. Whenever we fall in love with a person, we are attracted to him for who he is. But pretty quickly the moment comes when we want to change something in it. We are trying to penetrate his consciousness and “improve” something there. Of course, again for his / her good. We penetrate each other through the body and stumble upon the inability to penetrate into consciousness. This discovery gives rise to deep existential sadness and a sense of abandonment. The paradox of love is that the desire for complete penetration tends to be realized through the destruction of the object of desire. And so it turns out that we are sending all our forces to destroy what we love. After all, only a ruined person can be possessed. Love, however, discovers that this object cannot be destroyed and cannot be replaced. Love is possible only if you realize that by violating at least something in the structure of another person, you lose it, and not gain it. Sometimes this means not being with a person at all, but this is where the whole difference between desire / possess and love is manifested. To love and not to break borders.
The piercing sensation that in the distance, in non-intervention there can be more love than in an exciting presence, always struck and often wounded me, but still expanded my heart. After all, there is always the opportunity in this discovery to still be together. This time for real and deep. Remaining an integral and indestructible personality, multiplying each other's faces.
See also: Saturday column: Honesty in a relationship. Myth or reality?