Three ways I've protected my boundaries in 2023

and why they have nothing to do with other people

(This voiceover is an audio version of the newsletter below. As always, it’s unedited and today features my computer fan going berserk and possibly noisy birds. If you like/need to listen to these posts I hope you enjoy it!)

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Hello mates,

Just a quick note before I get into today’s letter.

Thank you again for your lovely support not only this week, but all through 2023. It’s meant so much to me, and having you all here has made this hands-down the most rewarding, enjoyable year of writing I’ve ever had.

I want to show my appreciation, so am making all new posts for the rest of the year freely available to every reader of The Tortoise. This means they’ll be sent to your inbox whether you’re a free or paying supporter. I’ve also got some fun bonuses planned for January, when I take a break from publishing, which I’ll share more about next week.

If, however, you have been thinking about joining The Tortoise as a paying member, I’m offering a 25% discount on subscriptions between now and December 26. Use this link and receive 25% off your monthly or annual subscription for all of 2024. (This brings it down to AU$3.75/month or $37.50/year).

Thanks again for being here, and for making this wonderful corner of the internet such a brilliant place to hang out.

💚💚

At a community garden in Brisbane, circa 2015-ish

Back in April, I wrote about the difference between healing and recovery.

“To heal is to move forward, while to recover is to go back or return to a former state.”

And this year, I’ve done a lot of healing. I’ve practised moving forward towards something new, rather than trying to get back to something that used to be. And while my health issues are still here, I think I’ve managed to succeed in healing in spite of them. (As much as anyone can “succeed” at healing, that is.)

I think a lot of it is because of my changing relationship with boundaries. Maybe through necessity, or getting older, or *gestures broadly at the world* living in this, but I have embraced boundaries as a necessary tool this year, in a way I’ve never done before.

I’ve always struggled with them. Always had trouble drawing a line in the sand and telling other people, “No.” People-pleasing, wanting to be ‘nice’, afraid of appearing selfish. Yep, yep and yep.

Brené Brown once wrote about the importance of clarity in difficult conversations:

“Clear is kind. Unclear is unkind.”

And while I understand the importance of clarity and boundaries in relationships with others (even if I struggle with them), I’d never really thought about it in terms of my relationship with myself. But recently, I’ve had to — and actually been able to — draw some lines in the sand, and I can see I’m better able to do it now because I’ve spent the better part of this year subconsciously working on inner-boundaries.

I’m not willing to write about those external boundaries (because, well…boundaries) but I did want to share three ways I’ve maintained boundaries with myself this year. Because the flow-on from them has been enormous and the space they’ve given me can’t be overstated.

Film photo (old skool) of the Grand Canyon, 2004

1.     I got (mostly) off social media

My use of the major social platforms has been declining year on year for ages. Not for any superior moral reason other than it was making me deeply unhappy. It was affecting my sleep, my self-esteem, my creativity and my ability to do my job. (Pro-tip: If you surround yourself with enough negativity, you will soon hear the Voice of the Internet every time you try to write something, make something or stand for something. It’s debilitating.)  

I do still have a Facebook profile and use it for staying across community groups, and I also still have an Instagram profile. I deleted the IG app off my phone months ago and only ever check in via my desktop, maybe twice a week. I couldn’t tell you the last time I posted there but recognise that if I ever publish another book, my presence on at least one platform would probably be helpful.

I’ve missed so much because of all this. I’ve missed opportunities, connections and kind words. I’ve also greatly reduced my sense of overwhelm and exposure to a relentless stream of opinions (some worthy of attention, others not so much). I’ve reduced the number of comparisons I make, the amount of time I spend feeling jealous and insecure, and reduced the existential dread that comes from consuming deeply negative, reactive and often cruel content for hours a week.

On balance, I’ve gained a lot more than I lost. Namely time and energy — those gold-plated resources we rarely have enough of.

How did I establish and protect this boundary?

It started with a decision to reduce social media. I focused on why I wanted to (i.e. what I stood to gain by opting out) and then looked at how to manage it. I deleted all easy access points (apps on my phone) and make heavy use of apps like Forest and Freedom on both my phone and computer to block or restrict my access.

Over time, it’s gotten easier, and my brain seems to be rewiring itself. Now, when I scroll through Insta on my computer, I find most of what I see (ads and suggested posts) completely uninteresting and the rest far less compelling than it used to be.

Magic hour in our old garden in the Blue Mountains, 2014

2.     I put a limit on my worries

If the past few years had one over-riding emotion, it would have been worry. I worried about everything and everyone. Like most people, we went through some difficult stuff, and I was just consumed with the what-ifs and the maybes. I would try to arm myself with as much information as I could, so that whatever came next wasn’t a surprise, and so I would have a way forward.

This year I’ve come to the realisation that none of that worry helped me much. In fact, it just stole time, peace and energy. And when I found myself in a similar headspace during the worst of my health issues last year and, to some extent, this year, I knew it had to stop.

So I installed a boundary. I allowed myself to worry, actively and terribly — real worst-case-scenario stuff — for 15 minutes a day. I timed it. And once that timer went off, worry time was over. I got back to life.

And while it wasn’t perfect (I still worry a lot before big doctors appointments and can sometimes let a surprise test result derail my thoughts for a day or two after) this approach has given me:

• Permission to own my concerns. They’re valid and pretending they don’t exist doesn’t help.

• Peace. I acknowledge and accept that I have this desire to know and control, while at the same time, acknowledging and accepting that I cannot know and I cannot control so much of what is happening in myself, and in the world at large.

• Space and time and energy. There were literally hours a day spent worrying. To a large, imperfect extent, I’ve reclaimed those resources.

How?

I set a timer for 15 minutes (which is, coincidentally, 1% of my day) and let myself worry. Encourage it, even. I write about it if that helps, I read articles or google questions, I let my brain do its anxious thing. Then, when the timer goes off, I close that mental door for the rest of the day.

Somewhere in Nevada, 2004

3.     I let go of the need to be informed

It’s something I touched on in the Addiction episode of the plodcast, but I have long had an intense relationship with the news. Particularly bad news. When a terrible story hits — think Princess Diana’s death, the Boxing Day tsunami, 9/11, the Black Summer fires — I get pulled deep in to the news cycle. I remain there for days or weeks, watching the same rolling coverage, waiting for the next ‘hit’ that comes in the form of an update, new footage or a previously unheard eye-witness account.

It’s weird, I know, and it’s also why the news media has evolved to include live blogs on their home pages and rotating headlines and images every couple of hours. Not because they’re necessarily reporting new information, but because there’s suckers like me refreshing the home page on a demented loop, and more eyeballs equals more advertising dollars.

This year, or more like the past three months, I’ve stepped back. Way back. I’ve allowed myself to be less informed. And what I was afraid of — becoming ignorant, becoming narrow-minded and insular — hasn’t happened. In fact, I think the opposite has happened.

I wasn’t being informed by snippets of news fed to me via social media. I wasn’t being informed by rolling live blogs that are riddled with typos in the race to be the first news outlet to report it. I was being trained to have a lower expectation of the news. I was being force-fed half-baked information and being told it was good. But it wasn’t good.

Now, I try to seek out better quality information in the time I give myself. That might mean skipping the live blogs and rotating stories on the homepage, instead reading longer-form articles from well regarded media. (And always trying to apply critical thought to what I read.)

I think I’m also better informed about the things that matter to me. Getting there required me to recognise that no matter how nice a person I am, no matter how much I care about things, I cannot care actively about everything. I cannot be informed about everything. Neither can anyone else.

As a result of going deeper and less broad, I’ve also stopped thinking I have all the answers and started recognising the world for the complex place it is. It’s made me more curious, ironically, and less inclined to share my opinion. And not in a bad way. But in a way that recognises while everyone can hold one, not every opinion is created equal. I respect the fact that we’re all entitled to opinions, but I’m no longer interested in uninformed ones. Even if that’s my own.

It’s been uncomfortable, but it’s also validating. We’re simply not designed to cope with the level of information being blasted at us every day, and taking steps to create boundaries around that feels like an important step. One that’s helped me create peace and space, which funnily enough, is a place from which I’m far more able to care.

How?

It’s been a combination of the previous two boundaries. I use Freedom and Forest to block access to news sites and give myself a limited amount of time to read the news. Usually in the morning, but sometimes I don’t check in with it until later in the day. And it’s funny — I’ve never missed a big news story.   

I’m curious to know: Have you installed any boundaries this year? Were they internal, or external? Did you learn anything from them? Have they given you any unexpected gifts?

Here’s to a lovely rest of your weekend, and I’ll see you next week.

Take good care,
Brooke xx

PS. Don’t forget: