This month, our Advice Columnist answers a question about boundaries, politeness, and contact from estranged family members around the holidays.
Q: “Over a year ago I told my mom I would reach out to her when I was ready. She called and left a message asking if I was coming for Easter, as if nothing had happened or was amiss. Do I text her “no, thank you, I’ll reach out when I’m ready” and block her number, or completely ignore? I want to ignore but I also have manners.''
A: Hello, anonymous friend! Thank you for reaching out with your question. Though Easter 2023 has very much passed by now, I still wanted to tackle this question in my first advice column response — because invitations to family gatherings can happen at any time of year, and because you raise some very important points about boundaries and politeness.
When you told your mom you would reach out to her when you were ready, you were doing two things: stating the boundary you intend to hold, and asking her to give you space and ease around that boundary.
Your boundary is yours, whether she were to try calling you never, or once a year around Easter, or even more frequently than that. The decision about if (and, if so, when and on what terms) to reach out to her remains entirely in your court, where it always has been.
But in practice, it feels very different to hold a respected boundary than it does to defend your boundaries against incoming pushes and pressures.
When she called you, it changed the landscape you were navigating: From an open space around a boundary that you could hold on your own terms, to a new environment where you suddenly had to fight for what you need, even while you continue to consider what you might want a future relationship with your mom to look like.
In your case, letter writer, I think your instinct to honor your original boundary, as stated, was strong and sound. If, someday, you actively wish to text your mom, even just to say some variant of ‘stop it’ if she ever calls again — or to offer one more reminder of the boundary you laid out — of course that option can stay on the table; we don’t remain forever beholden to the things we once desired. But just as your future self is free to decide what to do, so is the version of you who lives in this moment — and you have every right to protect your distance and your peace, exactly as you had planned to.
Going forward, now that your mom has introduced this new dynamic into your estrangement — where you know she might call you unexpectedly, particularly around certain holidays — you can plan for that. You can still block her number unless/until you’re planning to reach back out (and you don’t even have to let her know you’re doing it! Only you get to decide who is allowed to reach you by phone) or, if you’d rather not block her, you can make a specific action plan for the next time you see her number come up on your screen, so you’re not left feeling adrift. That might look like: “If my mom calls me, I will [let the phone ring and go to voicemail/decline the call immediately/do something else]. Then I will [listen to the voicemail/delete the voicemail/ask a trusted friend to listen to the voicemail for me and summarize it/etc.]. Afterwards, I will [continue ignoring her/text her to remind her that I’ll reach out when I’m ready/do something else]. In that moment, I might be feeling [hurt/uncertain/pressured/surprised/etc.]. So I can be kind to myself by [reaching out to a supportive person/doing an activity that relaxes me/taking some time to decompress/etc.]”
Letter writer, however you chose to navigate this specific situation you wrote in about, I’m sure you did excellently — protecting what you need while balancing all your priorities and values. I hope, too, that if you ever find yourself in a similar situation in the future, some of this advice might still be helpful.
But before I go, I also want to address your concern about manners.
When you said “I want to ignore but I also have manners,” I think you brought up an incredibly important point about what it means, and when it matters, to be polite.
Growing up, we are often taught to think of “politeness” as a monolith: A person does certain things and is polite, or does other things and therefore is rude.
Following from that, we’re taught that polite people are good, and rude people are bad. Polite people deserve praise and respect, while rude people deserve punishment and scorn.
But in practice, politeness is more like a fascinating, ever-changing kaleidoscope of communication, behaviors, assumptions and desires, fulfilling all sorts of different purposes in our lives and relationships.
At its very best, politeness is a shared community language that helps us be gentle to one another. Being ‘polite’ offers us mutually-understood ways of saying: “I see and appreciate your effort,” “I care about your well-being,” “I respect that we are sharing this space,” “I’d like your help with something, but this is a request, not a demand.”
But at its worst, politeness is also a way for people with more power in a community or relationship to make others do what they want, without opposition or complaint.
How many of us were taught that it’s rude to ‘make a scene’ (even if you, or someone else, is being treated badly)? Or that it’s rude to ‘talk back to your elders’ (even if that’s the only way to make your needs known)? Or that it’s rude to ‘be ungrateful’ (even if the thing you’re supposed to be grateful for is something you never asked for and didn’t want)? Or that it’s rude to have boundaries, if it means that someone else (particularly, someone used to having power over us) doesn’t get exactly what they want?
So, how do we do politeness well? How do we use this shared language to be kind to one another (and ourselves), without creating a dynamic where people are being silenced or taken advantage of? I’d argue that the best way to do that is by not thinking of politeness as a goal or even as a virtue: Manners are tools.
If being polite will help you reach your goal (whether that goal is “being kind to the people around me, who I choose to be in community with” or “protecting my peace and well-being while deciding what I might want a future relationship with my mom to look like”) then, by all means!
But if being polite will hurt or hinder you (by staying silent in the face of injustice, for example, or by making your clearly-set boundaries feel more porous or ambiguous), then you have every right to leave that tool in your toolbox and choose another way forward.
Wishing you well,
Hila
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Hila (any pronouns) is the Advice Columnist for the Together Estranged Newsletter. They have been happily estranged for a number of years, and now live with their chosen family and beloved, silly dog in rural Canada. They have a background in mental health, peer support, writing and journalism. Outside of work, Hila can be found recreating desserts from The Great British Bake Off, running on the beautiful trails near their home, singing show tunes, and learning to knit.
Please Note: The peer to peer Advice Columnist is not a licensed mental health professional; this is not medical advice. If you are in crisis or you think you may have an emergency, please go to your local urgent care center to talk to a professional counselor.
In addition, the views and opinions expressed by Advice Columnists are those of the Advice Columnists and do not necessarily reflect the views or positions of Together Estranged.
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