The difficult and painful truth is that the body and the brain aren't separate. I like to pretend as though there is a divide. Things are neat, like a TV dinner. Your peas don't have to touch your mashed potatoes, ever.
I think this illusion is very comfortable for a person whose borders are daily invaded, or who has suffered an occupation of her internal landscape. If brain and body are separate, there is always something to keep safe for yourself in every interaction. Which means that in every interaction, you must believe that people are out to overwhelm and conquer you. Me. I should say me. This is my illusion.
The difficult and painful truth is that boundaries have to be established without relying on a stark, polarized interpretation of reality. Grey area is terrifying, but it is also real. It makes for hard work. Navigating it involves risk and vulnerability and, inevitably, fucking up. A willingness to be brave and whole, and to believe that there might be other brave and whole people out there, too.