Jeff came home from work feeling light and happy. He’d done his job especially well that day and felt good about himself. But Tony, his partner, was in a bad mood. He was hidden behind the newspaper from which issued growls about inane journalists.
Jeff headed for the kitchen and began putting together a pasta dinner. After a few minutes, Tony came in and said, “Stop throwing pots and pans around. Your anger is filling the apartment.”
Jeff stopped, startled. “I’m not throwing pots and pans. I’m just cooking. I’m not angry.”
“Yes, you are. You’re angry that I took your parking place, aren’t you?”
“I’m not angry. I parked in front. I didn’t even notice where you were parked because there was a space right by the front door.”
“You are too angry. I hear an edge in your voice.”
“You hear an edge in my voice because I’m getting tense about all these accusations. I felt good when I came in, and I know if this keeps on I will feel angry. I don’t want to go any further with this. I don’t want to be angry when that’s not where I am. If something went wrong for you, I’ll be glad to listen. But stop telling me how I feel.”
“That was an angry statement.”
“Either tell me the real issue or stop.”
“You can’t control me.”
“I’m out of here.”
• • •
What happened here? Jeff came home lighthearted and in a good mood, and Tony trounced him. Tony was looking for a fight and did his best to start one. Jeff wanted to keep his good feeling, refused to participate, and, when reason didn’t work, took himself out of the situation.
Regardless of the reason for Tony’s anger—even if Jeff had actually done something wrong—Tony’s way of handling his feeling was not okay. Even if Jeff did some dumb thing that bothered Tony, Jeff still didn’t deserve to be treated that way, and he was right not to put up with it. Tony projected his own anger onto Jeff, like shining his movie on Jeff’s screen, and that became Tony’s excuse for treating Jeff badly. Tony thus got to discharge some of his uncomfortable feelings at Jeff’s expense.
When one person abuses another, this is, at base, what it is about—using another person to discharge their own uncomfortable feelings. This is not okay and must be stopped.
This problem will not get better on its own. On the other hand, if you set good, clear boundaries early—when the person first starts a verbal attack or projection—there is some chance that the relationship will work out.
Notice what Jeff did not do. He did not try to understand Tony or do active listening. He did not say, “You sound angry, Tony. What’s wrong?” If someone is a little out of touch temporarily, this can sometimes help; but in Tony’s case, with a track record of projection and attack, his most likely response would be something like, “You bet I’m angry. You come in the door and make a racket in the kitchen and expect me not to get agitated.”
Active listening would respond, “Sounds like loud noise agitates you.”
And then Tony’s anger would intensify.
Active listening and understanding wouldn’t work here, because Tony is not engaging in a way that would allow the truth to come out. Even marriage counselors sometimes make the mistake of applying active listening when a boundary is called for instead.
Can you spot the flaw in Tony’s behavior that is a signal that active listening would backfire? Guess what it is.
1. He’s already mad.
2. His focus is outside himself.
3. He’s hungry.
The answer is 2. Tony is not making any effort to address his real issue, to access his own insides and feelings. Instead he is focused outwardly on Jeff. When someone is focused on another person, active listening will only encourage them to continue dumping their feelings on that other person.
Since Tony’s feelings are being directed toward Jeff, neither Tony nor the relationship will benefit from active listening. Tony will only get further entrenched in his belief that Jeff is the cause of his discomfort, and both Jeff and the relationship will be harmed.
Even an understanding comment such as, “Something must have upset you today” might have backfired for Jeff. Tony might have replied, “You bet I’m upset. I’m upset with you, Jeff.”
The best hope for Jeff in this situation is for him to set boundaries. By rapidly erecting an energetic barrier and by refusing to engage in abusive behavior, he can foil Tony’s attack. (Remember, the purpose of the attack is for Tony to get rid of his bad feeling by dumping it on Jeff. If Jeff refuses to accept it, the bad feeling bounces right back—to Tony.)
In a new relationship, the very first time someone tries to dump their feelings on you, set a boundary. Refuse to engage. Imagine that a force field has sprung up around you. Think of it as a wall of energy that blocks the invasion of any bad energy or feeling. Say, “It’s not okay to talk to me that way. If you’re unhappy about something I will listen. But don’t dump your anxiety (or fear, or whatever) on me.”
If your boundary is respected—if the person pivots into a direct expression of their feelings, such as, “Oh, man, I am so scared about this job interview”—then you’ve got someone you can work with. If, however, they increase their efforts to get you to take it, or they try to control you, demean you, call you names, or are physically rough in any way, disengage. If this behavior continues, end the relationship.
Don’t take chances with a violent person. Even if they claim (or you carry the illusion) that you are the only one who understands, that you are the only one who can save them, or that your love will heal them, remember, this is a fantasy. By the time you realize that you can’t do enough to fix them, you will have lost a part of yourself.
Don’t put “being fair” to someone over your own safety, either. Many a woman has been trapped, and even killed, out of a mistaken idea that their partner deserves one more chance.
The interesting thing about good boundaries is that this whole process can work without the other person knowing what you are doing. It doesn’t require a lengthy explanation or charts and graphs for boundaries to work.
Do you have a nonviolent person in your life who tries to dump their discomfort on you? If so, do they infect you with their bad mood, so that they walk in with a cloud overhead, and walk out smiling because now the cloud is over your head? Do they attack you or disregard you in some careless or subtle fashion? Are they nonresponsive until you start fretting and then they’re suddenly energetic? These are all signs that you’ve absorbed their bad feeling. No wonder they feel better. The uncomfortable energy is now in your body.
The next time this person approaches you, quickly imagine yourself surrounded by your force field. Decorate this energy barrier any way you want. It can be a thicket of daisies, or your most loving friends all holding hands like cops do at a parade. Surround yourself with a rainbow or some very loyal lions. If you are feeling good or carefree or successful or competent, tune into that feeling. Magnify that good feeling. Let your confidence or joy or competence fill the space inside your barrier. Let it pour out of your eyes and shine from your skin. Then, no matter what that person says to you, stay tuned into yourself and hold the image.
In addition, build your verbal skills at stopping people who try to transfer their bad feelings to you.
“Walter, if you’re angry with me, say so directly.”
“Mom, I’m not joining you in your anxiety. I’m going to hang up now.”
“Joan, your agitation is starting to rock the house. Either talk about what’s going on or run around the block.”
“My love, I can’t be with you when you’re doing that indirect stuff. If you’ll acknowledge your mood and do something to help yourself, I’ll go to the movie with you. Otherwise I’m going by myself in fifteen minutes.”
People are remarkably responsive to consequences. If you create a consequence of being unavailable until they are honest and direct, they catch on.
Here’s another interesting thing about boundaries: the other person may not know the cause of their own bad mood, but running into your boundary brings it to mind.
Hamish found out, when he got to work, that his best buddy, Shawn, was moving. He felt a shaft of grief and disappointment, then buried himself in work and forgot about it.
When he got home, he was unhappy with everything he saw—the grounds in the coffeemaker, the ragged dishcloth, his kid’s music.
He started picking on his wife. “Maureen,” he yelled, even though she was standing but a few feet from him, “can’t you do something about that noise? Are you just starting dinner now? Why are the breakfast dishes still in the sink?”
Maureen refused to engage. She filled her energetic boundary, stayed in her own psychological space, and barely listened to him as she rinsed vegetables. He continued to try to start a fight, and she said, “I don’t know what caused this mood of yours, but I know I’m okay and I’ve done well today.” Then she left the room.
After fifteen minutes, Hamish came in, plopped down, and started talking. “Shawn’s moving to Fiji.”
Immediately she stopped arranging flowers and came over to him. “Oh, Hamish, I’m so sorry.”
Her boundary forced his psyche to offer up the real problem. He wasn’t getting any mileage or relief out of diffuse irritation. Her refusal to engage in a nonproblem left him swimming in his own swamp. Left there to stew, the real issue came forth.
As soon as he was talking about the real problem, Maureen came to him and was right with him. She hadn’t built up any anger toward him that would cause her to withdraw, because she took such good care of herself. Since she had protected herself so well, she felt no barriers to an empathetic response.
If you take good care of yourself, you can be fully present when the other person shifts. “Boy, I’ve been taking my bad mood out on you. I’m sorry. Okay, let me see what’s really going on.”
“I’m here for you.”