I have a few more reflections on boundaries to offer you today, all from people who have experienced abuse in the Catholic Church. (You can find Part 1 of this post here.) My gratitude to those who shared these thoughts.
Boundaries were something I was aware of and thought that I HAD before the abuse. My mother had been sexually assaulted when she was young and had done her absolute best to protect me from being as vulnerable as she had been. And it wasn't enough. I still made mistakes, and was still groomed and taken advantage of by someone. I've learned from it, but I still don't trust my own judgement or ability to protect myself in certain circumstances.
The priest who abused me consistently pushed my boundaries a little further each time we met. He reenacted what I experienced growing up, so it felt familiar. Looking back I can see what he was doing but in the moment I missed all the warning signs and problematic behaviors. I think healthy relationships and examples have been the greatest source of healing in helping me identify where I need boundaries in my life.
One of my first encounters with an abusive priest occurred while I was an undergraduate in college. He was the new pastor, and my friends and I were all at a welcome dinner for him. A good friend of mine had a habit of doing awkward things to see how other people would react, and her “thing” at the time was holding people’s wrists between her thumb and forefinger. I was in on the joke so I ignored it when she did it to me, but then the new priest came over and my friend jokingly informed him that my wrist was very “holdable”—his response was to grab my wrist to test the theory. I turned bright red, and my friend apologized to me profusely after he walked away. Neither of us had imagined he would actually touch me. But that was only the first of a number of physical and emotional boundaries that he crossed, both with me and with others. Furthermore, when I told a trusted adult what had happened, he asked me whether it bothered me "because I had enjoyed it," compounding the confusion and self-blame. Four years later, the priest was finally removed from ministry (ostensibly) for “boundary violations with adults”—that is, with college girls. He faced no other consequences for the numerous boundaries he crossed—and for sexually abusing multiple young women—and still lists “ministerial experience” from his time as a priest on his LinkedIn profile.
Coming from a home that was very abusive, I grew up not having been allowed to have boundaries. I never knew how to say "no" and, to this day, get disproportionately anxious if I have to not do what someone else wants me to do. With a lot of therapy and loving relationships I have learned to tolerate that anxiety around saying no or not pleasing someone. It is through that repeat experience that I have slowly learned to set boundaries.
Thank you for making the time to read these reflections and take them to heart. I’ll be back again soon with the May/June Reading Roundup - once I have time to catch up on the million articles piled up in my inbox!
Peace
Sara
Thank you for all that shared.