Boundary Setting: Where is the Line?
The Practice of Setting & Respecting Boundaries
Photo by Anika Huizinga on Unsplash
Boundary Setting. The practice of boundary setting is precisely that - a practice. You may not be proficient in setting and respecting boundaries. I know I'm not. My boundaries are heavily influenced by the societal expectation that my needs and desires are secondary to someone else's.
When I speak of elevating womxn's voices, boundaries are is inclusive of that concept. The practice of establishing boundaries that benefit my happiness is an emotionally nuanced and anxiety-inducing experience. I know I am not alone.
We have raised generations of womxn to believe it is their responsibility to mitigate and manage another's emotional responses to our actions and words. Our voices have been silenced and our desires have been minimized, so feeling empowered to advocate for yourself can be an ordeal.
The hardest part of finding my voice is learning that it is not my responsibility to cater to someone's disappointment. This is particularly true in dating and romantic relationships. If my desires conflict with the person I'm involved with, even in the early stages, I find it nearly impossible to articulate my disagreement. This martyrdom is not something to be lauded as I've previously believed. With this sacrifice, I only dismiss and further invalidate my experience.
Sometimes our boundaries exist on a sliding scale because it's easier to concede that make someone uncomfortable or meet confrontation.
GHOSTING
In the digital era, it's easy to avoid uncomfortable situations. In dating, when I have a disagreement or conflict, my first instinct is to ghost. Ghosting is a hotly debated topic. The general consensus, unless you’re Casper the Friendly Ghost, is that no one likes ghosts. However, it’s important to address reasons why womxn ghost, and why it’s situationally acceptable.
Hint: it's not because womxn lack conflict resolution skills.
Womxn may ghost due to fear of retaliation.
Speaking to hetero-dynamics, rejecting a man is sometimes met with aggression, verbally and physically. I've had terrifying encounters with toxic masculinity for a rejection as simple as, "no, I don't want to give you my phone number."
Fear of retaliation is why womxn have historically fabricated 'justifiable' reasons to reject a man like, "I'm seeing someone" or "I'm not attracted to men", regardless of if it’s true. Remember the popularity of fake numbers? These conventions came into existence out of necessity to protect womxn. And these reasons that are deemed justifiable by men are sexist. Only another man 'claiming' a womxn is an acceptable excuse to reject a man? A womxn's autonomy of choice is never respected under this lens, and unfortunately, we all exist within the patriarchy that perpetuates it.
Toxic masculinity hurts everyone. To compensate for generations of emotionally stunted men, society has handed womxn the narrative that is it our responsibility to manage a man's emotional response. This has reinforced my reluctance to communicate and, on occasion, rendered me silent. In these situations, both silence or conformity is a conditioned response to protect ourselves. Navigating this dynamic is not easy or simple, but necessary.
We live in a global society where men hold the power and have been entitled and encouraged to use it. Paradoxically, while there are real tangible fears for womxn when confronting or disagreeing with men, womxn still have a fundamental right and responsibility to advocate for themselves. Respecting boundaries is being empowered to say, "I'm not interested". Full stop. No excuses.
My conditioned response to either ghost or comply operates under the assumption that all men are toxically masculine. While my body feels like this is a universal truth - it's not. That's how trauma manifests. Your body remembers the sensation even if your mind isn't cognizant of what's happening. Our bodies are amazing mechanisms designed for our survival. Your body and mind will autopilot your actions and thoughts to secure your safety. That being said, these biological defense mechanisms don't have an accurate compass for what is healthy or unhealthy in modern society. Sometimes they require a manual override.
The real consequence of ghosting is that is it invalidates our experiences. By avoiding communication, we solidify negative feedback that perpetuates the belief that womxn's voices should be minimal; our wants shouldn't take up 'space' because they are harmful and unimportant. If I want to be empowered to maintain my boundaries, I need to practice speaking my truth. Communicating like this holds men accountable for their reactions as well as holds womxn accountable to our boundaries.
I'm terrible at saying no and respecting my boundaries. I've put myself in compromising situations due to my inability to advocate for myself. For anyone that's compromised their ethics or integrity because of fear, you understand firsthand how disempowering the experience is.
How do we get better at respecting boundaries? First, cultivate awareness of situations or conversations you might be avoiding due to fear of speaking up. Then, practice! Seriously. It's harder than it sounds when you've been made silence a habit.
Case & point: recently, a man misunderstood my intention as romantic. When he sent me a late-night text saying, "thinking of you," I knew I needed to communicate that my interest was platonic, even though I felt an overwhelming visceral dread at the thought of expressing that. Sure, I could ignore that message, but I believe in treating others as you would like to be treated, which means not ghosting. I would want to know if my interest was not mutual. It's a respectful and decent thing to reject them.
Coinciding with setting boundaries is reframing our understanding and practice of rejection. Rejection doesn't have to be a negative thing. Rejection is merciful and honest. I believe it's selfish to hold someone's time and energy hostage to spare them the hardship of rejection. Silence is also a form of rejection, but a passive-aggressive and dishonest one.
Our reluctance to reject is also a reflection of how we deal and cope with rejection. When you've been conditioned to put yourself second and have reinforced that belief over a period of time, it feels wrong to advocate for yourself.
I felt sick at the thought of not mitigating his disappointment and of the possibility of backlash from him. It was an unnecessarily drawn-out process for a simple rejection. I sought advice from several girlfriends and family members, my brother being one of them.
When I confided in my brother, he said, "why are you fussing so much? Just tell him you don't see him like that. It's simple." My brother’s cavalier response perfectly illustrates the gender disparity in boundary setting. My brother is free of the fear that rejection might cause him harm. My brother, a heterosexual man, was raised to believe his opinions and desires are valid and worth vocalizing.
Against my judgment, I took my brother’s advice and was shocked at the response. The man respectfully understood. Done. No personal affronts, no gaslighting, no guilt-tripping, just, "okay, I understand."
My experiences rejecting men have been negative and fear-inducing. We have a hard time accepting rejection. Rejections are tied to our self-worth. Patriarchy quantifies a man's worthiness and masculinity against his sexuality. When men receive rejections, they feel emasculated. We don't encourage our boys and men to cultivate emotional intelligence. Under patriarchy, emotions are categorized as feminine. Feelings are for females, not men. These men never learn ways to express or cope other than through anger and violence. Sexual frustration is often channeled into violence - this is a learned response, not a biological one.
The way this man accepted rejection is a beautiful representation of accountability. This man respects boundaries: his and mine. He understands that rejection is not a measure of his worth. Empowered men empower womxn. The positive feedback empowers me to want to advocate for myself. As I practice respecting my boundaries, I hope one day I won't have to agonize hearing the sound of my voice.
