"Setting Boundaries"

This past Friday afternoon, Noah, Amelia and I went to the municipal park to hang out until 6pm. They played on the swings, sat on the picnic table talking to me and climbed all over the playground equipment. Amelia ran from the swings to the playground then called Noah & me over to her to watch her go down the slide a few more times before we left. No one else was on the equipment, so Noah and I sat down on the bottom platform to watch Amelia play.

A few minutes later, a small little boy, about 3 years old came over to play. He couldn’t climb up onto the big playground equipment, so I helped him. Amelia instantly went into “mother mode” with him, held his hand and went down the slide with him several times. He was laughing at Amelia and having a good time. Just as we were getting ready to leave, the man who brought the child yelled to me, “Who do you think you are? Don’t you know that playground is for youngun’s?” I looked around, wondering who he was talking to. He was sitting fifty feet away on the picnic table, not nearly close enough if (and as it turned out when) the child fell. He sarcastically said, “So, I guess you think you own this park, too?”

By that time, I knew he was speaking to me, so I finished up gathering Amelia and Noah’s things with every intention of leaving drama behind. That’s when he said, “You’re a b*tch!” I stopped in my tracks. Noah and Amelia looked at me wondering what to do. I looked right at him and said, “You know what? I’ve been called a lot worse by much better grade of people than you. You’re a piece of work; a real class act. This park is called a municipal park, which means it’s open to the public. I have done nothing nor have I said anything derogatory to you. I have helped your son, or whoever he is to you. My daughter was playing nicely with him. Have a good day.” And we began leaving, he called after me, “You’re an *ss!! You’re an *sshole!! You’re a b*tch!! You’re nothing but a white b*tch!!”

I paused approximately ten feet from him; I never raised my voice or said any curse words to him. I simply and quietly said, “Wow, you must really be a miserable person to attack a woman with her children at a park. Thankfully, I don’t ever have to put up with your nonsense, and yet, wherever you go, there YOU are. I bet your Mama must be really proud of you.” Then I turned and walked away as he started yelling and cursing me even more. Amelia asked me why he was mad at Noah, her and me. I told her he wasn’t angry with us, he was angry at his own pathetic life. I told her there are lots of mean and evil people in the world, and he is one of them.

Another father left the park with his small son because of the old man’s ranting’s. He was scaring everyone away with his deluge of attacks on me. We got into our truck and buckled up. Amelia kept asking what she did wrong. I explained to her that she had done nothing wrong and sometimes when people aren’t happy, they take out their bad feelings on others. Noah said he was crazy, I readily agreed. I had to drop them off by 6pm, knowing that I wouldn’t be allowed to contact them for an entire week. I wanted to leave them with good memories, so I bought them a Slushie to drink at the park with the clear intention of letting them take some time to just be kids. We had thirty minutes before the old man came there and verbally assaulted me.

I felt totally helpless to protect my own children from the evil they had experienced. They had been terrified because of the crazy old man; ironically, though furious, I was extremely calm. It wasn’t until after my children left the vehicle, that my tears began to fall. It wasn’t that I was afraid of the man. I simply refused to allow him to bring me to his level, to have me react, and to become like him. But it was the reality of what we had witnessed that stirred my emotions.

I immediately drove to my sister’s house because I couldn’t stand the thought of being alone. I tried to call her but I couldn’t stop crying long enough to explain what happened. She was worried something tragic had transpired. I went to her backyard, sat in a chair and sobbed for over an hour. It was the only safe place where I knew I could go. I didn’t need her to solve anything, make anything all better, or fix anything for me. I just needed to be with someone who understands that sometimes life is really hard. At times, no matter what you do, it’s never good enough. I just needed her to say, “You know what? I have no idea what’s going to happen tomorrow, but I do know that eventually everything will be okay. You’re going to be okay.” And that’s exactly what she said.

No one can fully understand the magnitude of domestic violence unless you have lived it. Once the decision has been made to walk away from everything you own, in order to save your children and yourself, you cannot go back. Regardless of how hard it is to be your child’s everything all the time, going back is never, ever an option. Even if you cannot move forward, just holding your ground until you’re strong enough to move on is better than going backwards.

There are people who intentionally cause mayhem and misery to others simply because they can. I have learned that you teach people how to treat you. By respecting others and yourself, refusing to engage in a battle of wits with a crazed person and walking away from all drama allows people to know that you won’t tolerate nonsensical tripe. You cannot stop people from belittling you, but you can decide not to stoop to their level. Ignoring trivial prattle doesn’t mean you condone it, it just means you are above dealing with nasty people who spew it.

I spent the following day compartmentalizing the events that had occurred. I then realized that I am not the same person that I was at this same time last year. I have grown much stronger; and I am wiser. I’m also quicker to smile and laugh. I care very deeply about people. Even if I don’t speak to them any longer, I remember their story and wonder how they are faring. I often say prayers for them, understanding people will never know I do this for them.

If I wasn’t an empathetic person, perhaps things that people say or do wouldn’t bother me as much as it does. If I was alone and the crazy man said those things to me, I may not have bothered to say anything at all to him. I have figured out that silence speaks volumes. However, I had to defend myself when my children asked what we had done wrong. My children need to know that I have set clear boundaries for abusive behavior, because they have to learn how to do it for themselves.