Boundaries: Time To Sweat The Small Stuff

Last night I was tempted not to hold a boundary that I had set with my husband months ago.

This is the boundary:  Whenever he goes somewhere, my husband tells me what time he will be home.  If he finds that he will not make it by that time, then he needs to tell me.  Text or call, I don't care.  When he does this, he adds a small drop of trust into the trust bottle.  When he doesn't text or call, and he is late, he sleeps one night in the other room.  

Aside: When I first set this boundary he was OK.  The first several times I enforced it, he tantrumed like a 2 yr old.

We are rebuilding our broken marriage one day at a time.  I need to see my husband practicing trustworthiness.  Our marriage follows different rules now.  He says his days of thoughtlessly and selfishly coming and going with no accountability are over, and I gratefully agree.  He is trying to help me feel safe with him.

So last night, as he left to meet a business acquaintance, he casually announced that he would be home in half an hour.  After an hour and twenty minutes, he called and talked to one of the kids.  He was ten minutes away.  He came home, we had dinner, and we didn't discuss it until later.  Because I had a boundary, I didn't feel the need to get mad or punitive. 

I want to be clear. The issue is not that he came home later than he had planned.  In this case I hadn't been inconvenienced. The issue is that he hadn't called or texted a new ETA.  He hadn't kept his word. 

He admitted he had been thoughtless and not mindful of his time and commitments.  That same casualness got him into trouble with his addiction for years.  He couldn't keep his word to himself or anyone else.  

So why was I tempted not to hold this boundary?  Because it was the night before I was leaving on a long-awaited girls trip.  He had been kind and generous and helpful.  He had weighed my suitcase and stood by while I discarded unnecessary, heavy items.  I felt grateful that I was going, and I felt loving feelings toward him.  

I weighed it in my mind.  He could just sleep here tonight.  Why not?  He hadn't done anything malicious.  It was a small thing.  

I thought for a minute.  No.

Recovery, for both him and me, is the small things.  Recovery is hundreds and thousands of small things we do, small changes we make.  These small changes over time can add up to a completely changed heart.  That is recovery. 

I want recovery more than I want my husband sleeping next to me the night before I go on a trip.  And the great thing is, he does too.

When it comes to boundaries, I have to sweat the small stuff.