Children, Boundaries and Questions Have Followed Me for a Long Time
This text was written in 2009, but my reflections on children, boundaries and questions are still very much alive today.
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Children, Boundaries and Questions
(written in 2009 – republished today)
Grey. Overcast. Dull.
When I woke up at half past six, it looked like fog outside the window.
Unfortunately, it wasn’t fog – it was snow falling.
Am I getting tired of this snow?
Yes. I already was in August – before winter had even arrived.
Even then I was longing for summer.
Warmth. Sun. Salt water.
Seagulls screaming for food.
Children crying on the beach.
People sitting and chatting on their blankets while sunbathing.
It’s a bit funny when you think about how a mother can describe her daughter or son as if they were completely without a brain.
I play with the thought:
How do you end up with a son without a brain?
Is it because you once felt like you didn’t have one yourself?
Was that how the mother was treated in her own youth?
Did she feel that way – or was she made to feel that way?
How else could she describe her child like that,
if she hadn’t walked that path herself?
I see my children as wise, curious and a little lazy.
Just like I experienced my own youth.
Lazy I was.
I probably had thoughts, even if I never quite caught up with them.
I was curious – and wanted things to happen.
Exciting things. Fun things. Different things.
My teenage years were exciting, fun –
and sometimes maybe more happened than should have.
I have also worked with young people for a long time.
That makes it hard today for my children to have fun
without their mother starting to think along the same lines.
I feel inside when I should sense trouble coming.
Already at the first sentence I can sometimes feel:
No, little girl. That doesn’t add up.
Let’s take that one more round.
Since I stopped working as a treatment assistant,
it has become a little easier to fool me.
I’m not as suspicious today as I was a few years ago.
Strangely enough, my daughter said a few weeks ago
that she thought I should start working with young people again.
I thought for a long time about what she missed from that time.
I’ve come to the conclusion that I may have become a bit older.
A bit more “aunt-like.”
But also to an insight I can’t let go of:
I think I’ve become less attentive today than I was back then.
More mum.
More sweet, soft, mushy mum.
One who maybe doesn’t ask the right questions anymore.
That scares me.
Have I let go of control too much?
Are the boundaries too unclear for my children?
Do they miss the boundaries I used to have?
My daughter’s former teacher was a wonderful older woman.
Strong character.
Her whole presence radiated respect, fairness and order.
My daughter loved her.
“Birgitta is a good but strict teacher,” she often said.
And sometimes she said:
“It’s so nice, Mum.
You say and mean the same things.
Then I understand.
You decide, you tell me when something is wrong.”
But is that good?
Have I been too strict?
So strict that my daughter doesn’t feel
that she can stand on her own two feet?
Or is that exactly what she needs?
I think it’s both.
She feels safe when she knows where the boundaries are.
She may not fully trust her own judgment yet.
So she needs someone to show the way.
Someone who says:
Slow down a little now.
Now you need to be home.
Practice behaving properly.
Learning.
My little girl feels safe then.
✍️ Note
This text was written in 2009.
It carries its time – and at the same time questions that are still alive.
Children, Boundaries and Questions – Then and Now
When I read this text today, children are still in my life.
Not in the same way as then – but still close.
Worry is still there too.
Maybe even bigger than before.
The questions don’t feel smaller, rather more urgent.
Today I know that the world around children is more complex than it was then.
Louder. Faster. Less forgiving.
That makes the need for clear boundaries feel even more important now than then.
Not as control – but as safety.
As something to lean on when everything else is moving.
I don’t have more answers today.
But I have a deeper certainty that children need adults
who dare to be clear, even when it’s uncomfortable.
And maybe that’s what has changed the most:
not the questions –
but the courage to stay in them.
AHA – Between the Lines
Children don’t need finished answers.
They need adults who dare to carry their uncertainty
and still remain clear.
Between the Lines
What changes is not the questions.
What changes is how much responsibility the world puts on children –
and how clear we adults need to be
for them to feel safe.
Reflection
Today, children are still in my life.
So is worry.
But the certainty is clearer now than it was then:
boundaries are not the opposite of freedom.
They are often what makes freedom possible.
And maybe that’s exactly why these questions
feel more important today than they did in 2009.
For me, children, boundaries and questions
are not about control –
but about creating safety in a moving world.
🤍 Questions for You Who Are Reading
How do you think about boundaries and safety today –
has it changed over time?
Are there questions you’ve carried for a long time
that still feel just as important?
What in your life right now needs clarity
rather than more answers?
🔗 Further Reading
Texts that stay in the body – then and now
Writing to Touch
Everyday Life, ADHD and Presence
Listening to Your Body in Everyday Life – Rest, Presence & Slow Living
I see that the past is history,
but that history is still alive today.
Today – which is right now, not in the future.
And tomorrow is a new “right now,”
where the future has already become life.
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