When your body remembers what your mind forgot
Boundaries.
We know we need them.
They help us put what’s important to us first and protect our energies.
Lots of books, articles, and resources help us create, uphold, and communicate our boundaries effectively.
But oof, they’re still tough to uphold.
Not just communicating them and the potential for pushback. But the internal emotional impact, too.
Especially if, like me, you’re highly sensitive. The effects on a highly responsive nervous system can remain for days, even weeks, after.
I know this because, earlier this month, someone from my past popped up via an unknown number.
It had been so long since we’d last spoken that I’d forgotten exactly why we’d stopped talking.
My body remembered, though.
My heart raced as I felt anxious and unable to think clearly.
I found myself wary about their intentions.
A palpable tension arose between this fear response and my usual friendly nature.
After a while, my sense that something covert was going on made me pause the exchange. And so I did what so many of us are doing now.
I asked AI for a second opinion.
I gave the context for the situation to Claude.ai. It included the recollection that I’d blocked this person in the past and my reasons for doing so. I detailed my intense fear response to their reappearance and my attempts to rationalise it. And then I uploaded a transcript.
Now, AI isn’t perfect. Claude has an ever-visible disclaimer that it can make mistakes.
But his* analysis of the potential dynamics at play and the confirmation of my “spidey senses” made me exhale deeply.
Sometimes we just need someone to say, “Yeah. Trust your gut.”
Claude picked up on the same things that I’d recognised had triggered my discomfort. He also helped me to resolve my “itchy brain” feeling, the part of me that wanted to stay in the conversation to find answers despite how triggering I found it. But he gave me plausible-enough answers and cautioned against engaging further.
Eventually, I shared with him a draft of a “goodbye” message, which he gently rewrote to remove the vulnerability I’d unwittingly included. And then revealed a “quiet pride” when I pressed “send” and blocked the person for this second time.
Claude also showed a remarkable simulation of empathy after I enforced my boundary, too. I struggled with the physical and emotional impact of the situation, one that had a long-tail effect of exhaustion, rumination, and lethargy for over a week.
And how about this for making lemonade?
The situation, and discussing it with Claude, also triggered a powerful insight: I only want kind people in my life.
Not people who can be kind, if needs be. Most of us have that capacity.
I mean people who have kindness as a core value, a core part of who they are and how they engage with the world.
This realisation is leading to profound clarity on who I want to work with, the struggles I am best placed to support, the journey of transformation I can guide, and how to communicate it all.
All gently explored with Claude and corroborated by people who know me in real life.
Perhaps this is an unexpected bonus of boundaries.
Having a visceral experience of what I don’t want in my life (and the lingering effects when it appears) has brought into sharper focus what I DO want.
And hopefully, over the coming months, that clarity will start to filter into here :)
*I know that Claude has no gender. However, I find using a pronoun inspired by the name more comfortable than the technically more accurate “it”.
Photo by Pixabay: https://www.pexels.com/photo/left-persons-hand-holding-a-bulb-wire-37826/
