How I Built Boundaries
to Reclaim My Power
Building Boundaries with Booze
I set my first boundary in Fall 2005 when I had just returned from living in Mexico. I had just turned 21 and was in the height of my alcohol abuse. I was drinking until I blacked out regularly. I had copious amount of unwanted sex (through it was semi-consented, it was hard to tell when I was so drunk all the time). I smoked cigarettes when I was drunk. I was overweight. And I was depressed and stressed. My digestion was a wreck (having gotten intestinal parasites 3 times while I was living abroad). I had only recently come into awareness that I had been date-raped more than once in high school (all alcohol related). To top it off, I was in the midst of my first significant existential crisis having just realized the terrible impact that my culture was having on other parts of the world. On the outside it looked like I was just having a lot of fun, but on the inside I was miserable. But alcohol was an essential part of my culture. From the time I was a teen booze played a tremendous role in my social life. Who would I be without it? At that point, it wasn't even a consideration.
Fortunately, I was struck by a very odd luck. To work in public schools, one must take a TB skin test to see if they’ve ever been exposed. Mine came out positive, meaning that at some point, someone with TB coughed in my vicinity. They did a chest X-Ray just to make sure that I was in the clear (which I was) and recommended that I take a mediation called INH every day for 10 months just to be sure that the inactive TB in my system didn’t ever become active. Not knowing what consequences would come as a result, I took the recommendation. Accepting this medication meant, however, that I would not be able to drink anymore. INH is so harsh on your system that adding any toxins could have serious consequences.
This turned out to be the actual medicine I needed (INH, actually, really messed me up for many years to come, but that’s another story…). What was helpful was the excuse not to drink anymore. Suddenly I realized that I didn’t actually like to go out to bars, breweries, or wineries at all, and I didn’t actually have that much in common with my friends. In the time that I now had free (where otherwise it had been devoted to partying), I began to rediscover my creativity. I started writing. Painting. Crafting. I began to spend a lot more time in nature. Life started to get better.
But, as soon as the 10 months were up, I was faced with the fear: how am I going to say no to alcohol now when everyone else is counting down the days for me to party with them again? I knew I didn’t want to, but I was afraid of holding the boundary. Ultimately, I did it. Not everyone was happy (some felt judged and hurt by my choice). But, I was grateful to maintain my body and soul intact. I wasn’t having nearly as much casual sex and I was much more connected to my power.
Still, over time I had to reinforce my boundary. I got a boyfriend who liked to drink and smoke a lot, and my still family liked to drink a lot. I wasn’t always able to hold the line. But, after many years of practice, I now have no desire to drink at all. Those who know me know that I don’t drink, and it’s actually gotten easy to stand up to peer-pressure. I'm grateful that I don’t get “beer butt” anymore. That my Sundays are now available for actual living (as opposed to constant hangovers). That I don't have any more confusion around drunk sex.
I stand strong in the face of alcohol abuse. I am powerful.
Fortunately, I was struck by a very odd luck. To work in public schools, one must take a TB skin test to see if they’ve ever been exposed. Mine came out positive, meaning that at some point, someone with TB coughed in my vicinity. They did a chest X-Ray just to make sure that I was in the clear (which I was) and recommended that I take a mediation called INH every day for 10 months just to be sure that the inactive TB in my system didn’t ever become active. Not knowing what consequences would come as a result, I took the recommendation. Accepting this medication meant, however, that I would not be able to drink anymore. INH is so harsh on your system that adding any toxins could have serious consequences.
This turned out to be the actual medicine I needed (INH, actually, really messed me up for many years to come, but that’s another story…). What was helpful was the excuse not to drink anymore. Suddenly I realized that I didn’t actually like to go out to bars, breweries, or wineries at all, and I didn’t actually have that much in common with my friends. In the time that I now had free (where otherwise it had been devoted to partying), I began to rediscover my creativity. I started writing. Painting. Crafting. I began to spend a lot more time in nature. Life started to get better.
But, as soon as the 10 months were up, I was faced with the fear: how am I going to say no to alcohol now when everyone else is counting down the days for me to party with them again? I knew I didn’t want to, but I was afraid of holding the boundary. Ultimately, I did it. Not everyone was happy (some felt judged and hurt by my choice). But, I was grateful to maintain my body and soul intact. I wasn’t having nearly as much casual sex and I was much more connected to my power.
Still, over time I had to reinforce my boundary. I got a boyfriend who liked to drink and smoke a lot, and my still family liked to drink a lot. I wasn’t always able to hold the line. But, after many years of practice, I now have no desire to drink at all. Those who know me know that I don’t drink, and it’s actually gotten easy to stand up to peer-pressure. I'm grateful that I don’t get “beer butt” anymore. That my Sundays are now available for actual living (as opposed to constant hangovers). That I don't have any more confusion around drunk sex.
I stand strong in the face of alcohol abuse. I am powerful.
Building Boundaries with Work
In December 2011, I didn’t want to live anymore. I hadn’t slept for a month. I wasn’t digesting my food. I was sick ALL the time. Stressed. Anxious. Hopeless. Because I kept myself so busy, on the outside I looked OK, but inside I was suffering. I was in the second year of my chosen career path as a middle school Spanish teacher, but it was nothing that I thought it would be. I HATED my job. But what was I gonna do? I was in student loan debt and all my professional experience was in the field of education. Plus: I had just returned from living in Zimbabwe where the brutal reality of this world launched me into the biggest existential crisis of my life. I felt trapped.
Then came January 2012 when my inner voice became clearer than it’s ever been: “Quit your job or die young.” I know I know, it sounds intense (and maybe a little crazy), but it was SO compelling. It FELT true. What mattered most was not whether or not I was destined to die young, but the fact that every part of me knew that I had to summon my courage to make change. I couldn't go on like that anymore. I had to leap not knowing what I would do next or how I’d pay my student loans. So I did it. I not only quit my job, but my career. 8 years of college education, two Bachelor's Degrees and a Teaching Credential down the toilet in the name of my well-being. I vowed never to be a classroom teacher again. This was the second boundary I built for myself.
In the meantime, I had seen a poster for a “Drum Circle” and decided to go, hoping to continue making peace with all the trauma I experienced and witnessed in Zimbabwe. It turned out to be no ordinary Drum Circle. This was a Shamanic Drum Circle for calling our power. We danced and journeyed to the steady pulse of a frame drum, and by the end I knew that I had just entered the next phase of my life.
The circle was at a school for Hypnotherapy. They offered a whole program for folks who wanted to serve the world by helping others take their power back. I signed up immediately. I didn’t know exactly how it would serve me, but I knew that it was my next step to making peace.
As a Depth Hypnosis student at the Foundation for the Sacred Stream in Berkeley, CA I began to uncover core wounds that had been subconsciously manipulating my actions. I learned tools for identifying and communicating with my higher-self (some call it the subconscious, some call it God, some call it Spirit Guides, whatever you call it, it was a part of me that I fully trusted, for the first time). I learned practices for recovering power and lost parts of ourselves. I began to understand the nature of generational wounding. I learned how to create a trance state through meditation and sound. And I started to heal deeply.
In the middle of my course study, I decided to move to Mount Shasta, CA to live on the mountain out of my car for the summer. I put all my belongings into storage and hit the road without any real plan except to reconnect with the natural world, heal my soul, and discover my purpose. Summer solstice 2012 I spent my first night on the mountain, and met the man who would soon become my transformation partner for many years to come.
Ultimately, I got jobs that I didn’t need to commit to (like substitute teaching) to keep me afloat as my relationship and coursework helped me continue to uproot and heal the sources of my dis-empowerment. But, in time, that didn’t satisfy either. By that time, I had completed my certifications as a Hypnotherapist and Depth Hypnosis Practitioner. I had even become ordained as a minister. But, somehow, beginning a one-on-one hypnotherapy practice just didn’t appeal to me. In my time on the mountain, I began to vision a new life for myself as a musician, facilitator, and performing artist. Was I really just gonna see clients in an office all day? NO! I wanted to use my gifts. I felt on purpose, and even though I didn’t know how it would happen, I vowed to never give up on myself.
Thus I lived without very much money for many years. Though I didn’t have cash, I had TIME. I spent all my energy developing templates for people to utilize the gifts of creativity to take their power back. I continued to develop my own art and explore how creativity and building community could combine. There were many false starts, all impeded by personal blind spots that needed to be addressed and transformed. Every incarnation of my work was an evolution of the last. I may not have had material stability, but I was actively engaged in the empowered creation of my life path and service to humanity. As a result, I now no longer fear poverty. This has given me tremendous freedom. I will no longer sell my time, creativity, or energy for any system that does not align with my values and/or support my personal development and wellness.
I stand strong in the face of poverty. I am powerful.
Then came January 2012 when my inner voice became clearer than it’s ever been: “Quit your job or die young.” I know I know, it sounds intense (and maybe a little crazy), but it was SO compelling. It FELT true. What mattered most was not whether or not I was destined to die young, but the fact that every part of me knew that I had to summon my courage to make change. I couldn't go on like that anymore. I had to leap not knowing what I would do next or how I’d pay my student loans. So I did it. I not only quit my job, but my career. 8 years of college education, two Bachelor's Degrees and a Teaching Credential down the toilet in the name of my well-being. I vowed never to be a classroom teacher again. This was the second boundary I built for myself.
In the meantime, I had seen a poster for a “Drum Circle” and decided to go, hoping to continue making peace with all the trauma I experienced and witnessed in Zimbabwe. It turned out to be no ordinary Drum Circle. This was a Shamanic Drum Circle for calling our power. We danced and journeyed to the steady pulse of a frame drum, and by the end I knew that I had just entered the next phase of my life.
The circle was at a school for Hypnotherapy. They offered a whole program for folks who wanted to serve the world by helping others take their power back. I signed up immediately. I didn’t know exactly how it would serve me, but I knew that it was my next step to making peace.
As a Depth Hypnosis student at the Foundation for the Sacred Stream in Berkeley, CA I began to uncover core wounds that had been subconsciously manipulating my actions. I learned tools for identifying and communicating with my higher-self (some call it the subconscious, some call it God, some call it Spirit Guides, whatever you call it, it was a part of me that I fully trusted, for the first time). I learned practices for recovering power and lost parts of ourselves. I began to understand the nature of generational wounding. I learned how to create a trance state through meditation and sound. And I started to heal deeply.
In the middle of my course study, I decided to move to Mount Shasta, CA to live on the mountain out of my car for the summer. I put all my belongings into storage and hit the road without any real plan except to reconnect with the natural world, heal my soul, and discover my purpose. Summer solstice 2012 I spent my first night on the mountain, and met the man who would soon become my transformation partner for many years to come.
Ultimately, I got jobs that I didn’t need to commit to (like substitute teaching) to keep me afloat as my relationship and coursework helped me continue to uproot and heal the sources of my dis-empowerment. But, in time, that didn’t satisfy either. By that time, I had completed my certifications as a Hypnotherapist and Depth Hypnosis Practitioner. I had even become ordained as a minister. But, somehow, beginning a one-on-one hypnotherapy practice just didn’t appeal to me. In my time on the mountain, I began to vision a new life for myself as a musician, facilitator, and performing artist. Was I really just gonna see clients in an office all day? NO! I wanted to use my gifts. I felt on purpose, and even though I didn’t know how it would happen, I vowed to never give up on myself.
Thus I lived without very much money for many years. Though I didn’t have cash, I had TIME. I spent all my energy developing templates for people to utilize the gifts of creativity to take their power back. I continued to develop my own art and explore how creativity and building community could combine. There were many false starts, all impeded by personal blind spots that needed to be addressed and transformed. Every incarnation of my work was an evolution of the last. I may not have had material stability, but I was actively engaged in the empowered creation of my life path and service to humanity. As a result, I now no longer fear poverty. This has given me tremendous freedom. I will no longer sell my time, creativity, or energy for any system that does not align with my values and/or support my personal development and wellness.
I stand strong in the face of poverty. I am powerful.
Building Boundaries with Food
In December 2013, I hadn’t pooped for a month. Quite concerned about my condition, I went to the ER and was told that it was normal. Bwah! Laxatives didn’t work and clearly western medicine was not going to help. So, I turned to Eastern medicine. I saw a Chinese doctor who told me, without hesitation, that what I needed to do was give up sugar and simple carbohydrates.
Desperate, I took the advice. Boy was that a can of worms! Up until that point, I had been subconsciously relying on food to feel supported, nurtured, happy, connected and loved. Feeling sad, Alana? Go get some ice cream. Feeling stressed? Why don’t you make a batch of cookies? A little bored? How about some chocolate? Worried? No problem! Nothing that some chips can’t fix. Wanna have a good time? Bring pizza! Feeling lonely? Just make some pie to share with someone. I was under the impression that food could solve any negative feeling.
Unfortunately, the price was high. Irritable Bowl Syndrome is no joke. When’s the last time you shit your pants in public? What’s the longest you’ve gone without going #2? I’m talking constant stomach pain. Irritation. Fear of losing control. Horrific gas. All the price of refusing to deal with difficult feelings.
Fortunately, it only took 3 days on the diet to begin to see the results. Firstly, I went to the bathroom for the first time in over a month. Secondly, my stomach stopped hurting. Then I started to have more energy. I felt better than I had in years.
No doubt, it was hard to maintain: not only did my partner NOT join me, but he actively refused to make an accommodation, eating cookies and milkshakes like they were going out of style. Plus, food and alcohol are the main ways that my family connects and celebrate with each other. They're central to our culture. So, my choice not to eat our family’s food (on top of the fact that I wasn’t drinking anymore) didn’t go over well at first. I actually got into arguments with people that I loved to defend my choice. It was freaking hard, not only to stand up to peer pressure, but to resist my own cravings.
But I would not cave. The results were just too tremendous. So, to supplement the pseudo-support that I had been getting from food, I amped up my creativity again. I began writing, singing, and crafting like never before. The loss of food-addiction was key to my creative-reclamation. I didn’t eat any sugars (even fruit or vegetable sugars) or any carbohydrates for 3 months, and maintained a slightly less hard-core version of the diet for a whole year. This is the third boundary I built for myself.
To this day, I still avoid sugar, wheat, simple carbohydrates, and over-eating. I've also added restrictions to dairy and meat. Food is no longer entertainment or an avoidance strategy. Instead it's medicine to keep me strong.
I stand strong in the face of food addiction. I am powerful.
Desperate, I took the advice. Boy was that a can of worms! Up until that point, I had been subconsciously relying on food to feel supported, nurtured, happy, connected and loved. Feeling sad, Alana? Go get some ice cream. Feeling stressed? Why don’t you make a batch of cookies? A little bored? How about some chocolate? Worried? No problem! Nothing that some chips can’t fix. Wanna have a good time? Bring pizza! Feeling lonely? Just make some pie to share with someone. I was under the impression that food could solve any negative feeling.
Unfortunately, the price was high. Irritable Bowl Syndrome is no joke. When’s the last time you shit your pants in public? What’s the longest you’ve gone without going #2? I’m talking constant stomach pain. Irritation. Fear of losing control. Horrific gas. All the price of refusing to deal with difficult feelings.
Fortunately, it only took 3 days on the diet to begin to see the results. Firstly, I went to the bathroom for the first time in over a month. Secondly, my stomach stopped hurting. Then I started to have more energy. I felt better than I had in years.
No doubt, it was hard to maintain: not only did my partner NOT join me, but he actively refused to make an accommodation, eating cookies and milkshakes like they were going out of style. Plus, food and alcohol are the main ways that my family connects and celebrate with each other. They're central to our culture. So, my choice not to eat our family’s food (on top of the fact that I wasn’t drinking anymore) didn’t go over well at first. I actually got into arguments with people that I loved to defend my choice. It was freaking hard, not only to stand up to peer pressure, but to resist my own cravings.
But I would not cave. The results were just too tremendous. So, to supplement the pseudo-support that I had been getting from food, I amped up my creativity again. I began writing, singing, and crafting like never before. The loss of food-addiction was key to my creative-reclamation. I didn’t eat any sugars (even fruit or vegetable sugars) or any carbohydrates for 3 months, and maintained a slightly less hard-core version of the diet for a whole year. This is the third boundary I built for myself.
To this day, I still avoid sugar, wheat, simple carbohydrates, and over-eating. I've also added restrictions to dairy and meat. Food is no longer entertainment or an avoidance strategy. Instead it's medicine to keep me strong.
I stand strong in the face of food addiction. I am powerful.
Building Boundaries with Sex
Let me start by saying that I started young. By 12 years old, I was already sexually active. I officially lost my virginity right after my 14th birthday (which, now, after having taught middle school as an adult, is now a bit horrific for me to consider. I was just a kid). Let me also say that I grew up in a culture that hyper-sexualized women through marketing, media and music but gave nearly no real sex education (beyond some of the nuts and bolts of how a baby is made and how diseases are spread). So, I've got a lot of compassion for all the sexual confusion I've had. I literally didn't know what else to do. I literally thought that sex was where my power was.
So, between the ages of 14 and 25 I had sex with more people than I could count. Most of them one or two night stands. Mostly with strangers. Mostly mixed with alcohol. Mostly unwanted. Mostly unpleasurable. Often unsafe. Always with a feeling of shame afterward. Some instances we're clearly rape (I was blacked out for heaven's sake!) and some of the instances were less clear: maybe I said no but he convinced me otherwise. Maybe I just didn't know how to say no. Sometimes I was afraid to say no.
After many years of talk therapy, and abstinence from alcohol, eventually I was able to find a stable and consistent partner. This however, did not make the confusion go away. In fact, my challenges were only exasperated by the fact that he had his own issues (I reckon most modern people have had serious sexual confusion at some point in their life). The main thing that was confusing to me was whether or not I was obligated to sleep with my him just because he was my boyfriend. Overtime, the confusion snuffed out my sex-drive all together. After too many times of giving in to him when I didn't really want to, I ultimately had to say NO, and our relationship dissolved. I don't blame him for wanting to have sex, but I couldn't appease his hunger any more. It was hard to loose him, but not harder than it was to feel like I let him rape me over and over again.
Since I left my partner, I've been largely celibate. I've had only a few lovers, each one a teacher of what I do and don't want. Each experience was like a like rerun of an old patterns for me to heal and transform. In the end, I learned this: I say NO to anything that even resembles causal sex. I say NO to anything that puts my body in physical danger (including the risk of unwanted pregnancy). I say NO to sex that in any way feels pornographic. I say NO to sex that is not supported by a firm foundation of mutual respect, shared intentions, and open communication. I say NO to sex who's primary objective is to get-off (ie orgasm). I do not seek sexual partners and am quite happy being sexually inactive for as long as it takes to find a situation that meets my standards. I have HIGH standards. It feels great. This is the 4th Boundary I've built for myself.
I stand strong in the face of unwanted sex. I am powerful.
So, between the ages of 14 and 25 I had sex with more people than I could count. Most of them one or two night stands. Mostly with strangers. Mostly mixed with alcohol. Mostly unwanted. Mostly unpleasurable. Often unsafe. Always with a feeling of shame afterward. Some instances we're clearly rape (I was blacked out for heaven's sake!) and some of the instances were less clear: maybe I said no but he convinced me otherwise. Maybe I just didn't know how to say no. Sometimes I was afraid to say no.
After many years of talk therapy, and abstinence from alcohol, eventually I was able to find a stable and consistent partner. This however, did not make the confusion go away. In fact, my challenges were only exasperated by the fact that he had his own issues (I reckon most modern people have had serious sexual confusion at some point in their life). The main thing that was confusing to me was whether or not I was obligated to sleep with my him just because he was my boyfriend. Overtime, the confusion snuffed out my sex-drive all together. After too many times of giving in to him when I didn't really want to, I ultimately had to say NO, and our relationship dissolved. I don't blame him for wanting to have sex, but I couldn't appease his hunger any more. It was hard to loose him, but not harder than it was to feel like I let him rape me over and over again.
Since I left my partner, I've been largely celibate. I've had only a few lovers, each one a teacher of what I do and don't want. Each experience was like a like rerun of an old patterns for me to heal and transform. In the end, I learned this: I say NO to anything that even resembles causal sex. I say NO to anything that puts my body in physical danger (including the risk of unwanted pregnancy). I say NO to sex that in any way feels pornographic. I say NO to sex that is not supported by a firm foundation of mutual respect, shared intentions, and open communication. I say NO to sex who's primary objective is to get-off (ie orgasm). I do not seek sexual partners and am quite happy being sexually inactive for as long as it takes to find a situation that meets my standards. I have HIGH standards. It feels great. This is the 4th Boundary I've built for myself.
I stand strong in the face of unwanted sex. I am powerful.
Boundaries I'm Still Building...
It wouldn't feel right to leave you with the impression that I've gotten it ALL worked out. No way. We live in culture that actively profits off of addition. Capitalism depends on it (yes, it's a PROBLEM). Every day is a challenge to hold my boundaries with grace. Most days I'm strong, but some days I'm week. Should you choose to let me be a guide in the process of Building Boundaries, it's important to me that our relationship is built on transparency. Without divulging too many details (a lady's gotta have some privacy...), let's just say: I've still got my shit, and I'm working on it. I'm not qualified to be your guide or coach because I've conquered every addiction. No (I actually think that's impossible in this day-in-age). I'm qualified because I don't give up, and I've got good tools that keep me going.
Reclaiming our power is a PROCESS...
The Good News is:
The more we Build Boundaries, the easier they are to build.
With a supportive community, and good tools, we can ALL take our power back.
Reclaiming our power is a PROCESS...
The Good News is:
The more we Build Boundaries, the easier they are to build.
With a supportive community, and good tools, we can ALL take our power back.