April 16th 2010

On Boundaries: Be Like an Amoeba

Someone recently made a drawing for me of what she considered to be the ideal boundary structure a person can have. It was shaped like an amoeba. She said that amoebas have the ability to change shape and proximity at will, and in relation to their environments. She imparted this notion on to me, and drew a parallel with interpersonal relationships. “Look at it as you would having amoeba-like boundaries around your heart,” she told me. “That way, you are always protected but not at the expense of ever having anyone come close to you.”

I like this amoeba drawing better than other, more rote ways of thinking about independence, interconnectedness, and intimacy. I read a book recently, Cristina Nehring’s A Vindication of Love, which is discussed elsewhere on SexReally. In it the author speaks very eloquently about the critical role of imbalance and lack of parity in romantic relationships. Imbalance does not always have to be unhealthy or antithetical to real love – it can be a fuel or a driving force towards connection. However, learning to keep one's own heart protected, even in the face of love and passion, is a critical skill for which we don’t get much training.

Some of the failure to self-protect strikes me as having a gendered element – in a culture that socializes women and girls to be caretakers, women in both straight and queer relationships may often find themselves feeling guilty for asserting their own needs, desires, and rights. But I don’t think it is only women and girls who experience inequity or a lack of parity in their relationships – it can also happen when you are the partner with more investment, or more at stake. I have definitely seen male friends bend over backwards for women who weren’t putting much effort back into them. I don’t know that I agree that they are “wrong", “stupid”, or “pussy-whipped” for doing so – but I have more curiosity about how one can passionately, actively reach out and express genuine feeling, attraction, interest, love, and devotion without it signifying an emotional kamikaze mission.

For me, part of a necessary survival strategy in trying to mitigate but not squelch intense feelings I have for other people is to siphon off and redirect some of that passion and energy to other parts of my life, whether it is my job, my friendships, my experience of my family, or, most especially, playing music. These to me all seem like safer spaces for expressing sheer, unadulterated passion, commitment and love – spaces in which I run less risk of being wounded. At the same time, I like the idea highlighted in Vindication that those of us who love passionately reserve the right to fail.

We are encouraged in romance, as we are in other aspects of life, to fit into social norms. Romantic socialization often guides us to seek out partners who we believe fit into sanctioned strictures. In Vindication, Nehring says we as a culture want to take the magnificent lion that is love and turn it into a pudgy domesticated house cat that never frightens us, is always predictable and dependable, and doesn’t threaten our security. Personally, I would like to find a way to maintain a sense of safety while in pursuit of passion. If we construct walls and towers of love and community and security all around us, in a host of different ways and with different sources, might we then be able to take more risks with romantic love?

I like to think that I am learning about the amoeba boundary. That I am building a fluid, shifting exterior, with enough perception and insight to push those away who are detrimental and allow in those who are going to enrich my life. As tempting as it may be to let those positive folks all the way in, I am also trying to learn, like the amoeba, to maintain osmotic equilibrium – having the joy in my life generated both by the external sources I invite in and the internal resources I sustain and continually develop.