I’d set the boundary and then over-explain it, overly justify it,
One thing that helps to remember? A boundary is what YOU DO... you never even have to say word one to anyone else about what your boundaries are, why you have them, or anything else.
When you set a boundary? It’s with yourself, not anyone else. Informing others is -at best- a courtesy. They don’t have to know about it, they don’t have a say in it, and they most definitely aren’t ruled by it (no one on the planet is required to abide by my boundaries, nor do I have to mind anyone else’s).
I’m not a fan of hippy-dippy-woo-woo language, so it means a lot for me to say “
You’re giving away your power” when you put other people in charge of your boundaries. IE You tell them what your boundaries are, and then THEY are responsible for abiding by them, &/or (How DARE they?!?) violate/cross/ignore etc.. Of course (because things can always get worse), one worse? Kick into being angry or insulted that they did so... putting all -or any- of your energy into reacting to them crossing the boundary, rather into the action you’ve decided upon. Shrug. It’s not uncommon. People are often more upset about being lied to, than what the lie was about. And, quite frankly? There are definite times and places where that’s totally valid. Where it’s not just crossing a boundary, it’s a betrayal. But one’s boundaries being crossed is a lot like being triggered. When it’s other people’s responsibility not to trigger you, instead of your own to deal with the trigger? Cue helplessness & learned helplessness, and misdirected anger/hurt at the person that triggered you (How DARE they?!?) that’s often worse than the trigger itself, and a whole clusterf*ck of avoidance & other messy tangled things.
Take your power back. Reserve being upset at boundaries being crossed for betrayals of the highest order. (Include explaining &/or justifying the boundary, and/or why it “should” be followed, as a kind of upset). Everyday boundaries? Direct your energy towards doing what you’ve decided to do if/when those boundaries are crossed, and then have some fun with the miles and miles of energy that didn’t get spent being hurt & mad.
((That’s one of the best tricks about boundaries I know of, by the by, the action should make life almost immediately BETTER :D. If the boundary is “If someone is stinky I’m going to move to where I can’t smell them” ... as soon as you’ve finished your action? Voila! Clean air!!! Woohoo! But if you make you boundary “I’m going to inform the stinky person they’re stinky, and give them a good solid lecture in personal hygiene,” all you’ve done is subject yourself to a) more stank & b) someone reacting to being told they stink. So, unless the stinky person is your child, that you have a duty to teach them about personal hygiene? Or your teenager that needs a “Yo! Hit the showers, man! For the love of all that’s holy... Nooooo don’t come in for a hug! Aaaaah! I’m melting! Meeeeeeelting! Gurp Gak Gah.“ ...it’s seriously worth considering whether the boundary you’ve decided upon best suits your desires.))
One of the great-awesome-fantabulous things about boundaries being something we set with ourselves, instead of others? We can vary & tailor them to specific people/situations. To continue with the above example?
Most of the time
- Some random person stinks... I move away
- Someone I care about stinks... I tell them so
- Someone I’m responsible for stinks... I clean them up
But there are always exceptions to the rule. Say my girlfriend has just given birth? She’s going to stink to high heaven of BO, blood, shit, sweat, fear, & pain. Am I going to tell her she stinks? f*ck no! Or if a super stinky stranger has just gotten hit by a car, do I keep my distance? Pfft. Not bloody likely. Something far more common, however? Whether or not I’d leave the line I’m standing in because of a stinky person depends on what I’m in line for, and how bad they stink. Et cetera.
There’s just a helluva lot of cool things in remembering :
My boundaries? Are my own. They direct me, not you.
I commented a beach was beautiful and someone with me
argued, “no, it is too sandy.”
As a kid, any decision I made was constantly challenged. Even my declaration of my favorite color and favorite sport. Nope, I was apparently wrong on even that.
^^^Just popping these here as a reminder/because I have something I really wanted to say; but brief seems to be an item in my lingerie chest, tonight. So we’re ending the novel forthwith. ;)
