Relationship Reset: Boundaries

Disclaimer: I am not a professional psychiatrist, psychologist or therapist, just a fellow human being who has spent roughly half a century on the planet. Opinions included in my “Relationship Reset” series are my own, and any “strategies” I describe are ones that I’ve researched and/or applied to my own experience. Obviously, every relationship is different, and what works for me may not be suitable or effective for others. Please use your own discretion and judgment when navigating your own relationships.

For the very first post in my “Relationship Reset” series, it seems appropriate to talk about the sine qua non of healthy relationships:

Boundaries.

Although we hear a lot about “boundaries,” I think we often misunderstand them.

To many, “boundaries” mean self-assertion:

“That last piece of cake is MINE!”

“NO, I CAN’T drive you to your doctor’s appointment!”

That kind of thing.

But boundaries are more complex, and setting them is a nuanced affair.

Victoria Priya compares boundaries to the lines on a highway—they’re the “rules of the road” of a relationship.

Drivers all understand that the double-yellow lines down the center of a road are a more consequential boundary than the white line along its edge. And this line is more consequential than the dashed white lines that allow us to pass or change lanes.

People who think of boundaries as acts of self-assertion seem to assume that all the lines in relationships are double-yellow dividers.

And in some cases, they may need to be.

In my case, anyone who shrieks “I’m a HUGGER!!” and embraces me shortly after being introduced to me for the first time will immediately earn themselves a double-yellow boundary.

The problem is, most people don’t require that kind of boundary-setting.

Most people aren’t obviously trying to be rude or intrusive.

And if you have little or nothing at stake in the relationship—as would probably be the case for me when first meeting The Hugger—boundary-setting is a no brainer.

You can smile politely, and proceed to ignore them completely.

In my experience, setting boundaries becomes challenging when you have or want a relationship with someone—because they’re a (soon-to-be) friend, co-worker, ot family member—but they seem to have a tendency to steam-roll over your feelings, ideas, or preferences.

Human beings are fundamentally social creatures (despite occasional evidence to the contrary) and most of us don’t want to be rude. Even those of us who are card-carrying introverts value relationships and community.

So many of us will find it challenging to say to a friend or family member, “Um, no, actually, I DON’T want to pick you up at the airport on Saturday. Again.”

Or to tell a co-worker, “Um, no, actually, I’m NOT going to be able to have my portion of that project drafted a week early so you can have more time to figure out your portion.”

And if the person in question is a family member or parent who raised us from Day 1?

Well, let’s just say they’re always a bit ahead of us, because they’re the ones who set the stage for how we function in relationships to begin with.

If you were raised in an environment in which you frequently played the peacemaker, or the mediator, or the one who went-along-to-get-along, you’ll carry that into your adult relationships without even realizing it.

My strategy (such as it is) for dealing with the boundary-blind among us comes from literature (of course).

In Herman Melville’s short story, “Bartleby the Scrivener,” published in 1853 (as the First Industrial Revolution in the US was well underway), the titular character repeatedly utters a phrase that has since become famous:

“I would prefer not to.”

Without going into details about what happens to Bartleby (admittedly, it’s not great), I’d like to point out what Italian philosopher Giorgio Agamben suggests is the “genius” of this phrase.

In Melville’s story, Bartleby never says, “No, I won’t do it.”

But he also never says, “Okay, sure.”

He simply says “I would prefer not to.”

He expresses a preference, but, as Agamben points out, in the world that Bartleby lives in, expressing a preference is incomprehensible.

The assumption is that Bartleby is supposed to just do what he’s told—in particular, what the people who have power over him want him to do and/or are paying him to do.

Melville’s story is humorous (in some ways), because nothing that is asked of Bartleby is ever unreasonable, per se… but he would “prefer not to” do it, so he says as much and then the ball is back in the other person’s court.

I think that, when people try to override our boundaries, they want us to do what they want—to do what we’re told—but they don’t necessarily want to order us to do it, because that’s a bad look in a relationship that is supposed to be premised on reciprocity.

I’ll talk about emotional manipulation in a later post, but for now, suffice to say that in my own experience, “going Bartleby” in such situations actually works to clarify what’s happening in the relationship.

Simply saying, “Well, um, actually, I’d prefer not to…” with difficult or high-conflict people (more about them in a later post as well) can be a good way to set a boundary, because it puts the ball back in the other person’s court.

And it also offers a way to say “no” without really saying “no,” which can be useful if you’re dealing with someone who is either high-conflict or passive aggressive.

People who are respectful of boundaries will typically say, “Oh—okay!” and it will end there, more or less.

If they’re in a bind and really need your help, they may explain a bit further what their motivations are and try to clarify why they really need you to do what they’ve asked, but there won’t be any lingering sense of animosity in the wake of your expressing a preference.

They’ll show self-awareness and reciprocity, two generally healthy relationship qualities.

In my own experience, if I ask someone to assist me with something and they say, “I’d prefer not to,” I may be disappointed, but I don’t really care deeply.

I just figure my next step is to figure out what to do next to get the thing done.

If someone says, “Well, TOO BAD, I need you to do it!!” they’re telling you a little something about themselves—namely, that they don’t mind bullying you.

If I tell The Hugger in front of me, “Actually, I prefer not to hug” and they withdraw in wounded petulance, well, that means their ostensible “affection” may be more self-serving than otherwise.

If someone replies, “Why not?” to your Bartleby, you should probably pay attention to the tone of their question.

Are they genuinely curious about your reason? Or are they basically being defensive?

People who coordinate well with others are usually at least a little bit curious about others’ needs and preferences.

If someone is fixated on getting you (and others) to simply do what they want or need, they won’t express that kind of curiosity.

If they ridicule you for expressing a preference or pitch a small fit, you’ve gained a window into how they manage conflict.

They may not be more diplomatic, moving forward, so proceed with caution.

Interestingly, when people respond badly to our attempt to set boundaries, we assume this means that our boundaries don’t work.

Years ago, I listened to an episode of a podcast called, “Excuse Me, I Have Concerns,” which is sadly no longer available.

On it, one of the hosts pointed out that, when you try to set a boundary and the person starts “coming at you hot,” it actually means the boundary is working.

That’s why they’re trying to either burn it down, or get you to back down. (Or both.)

A therapist I once worked with called it “the foot in the door strategy.”

If someone can get you to open a door, just a bit, they can quickly stick a foot in, lean on the door, and push.

At that point, you’re forced to push back to struggle to re-close it.

And more often than not, you’ll find yourself simply sliding helplessly into the room with them as they stroll on in.

So her advice was, “If you suspect it’s a difficult or manipulative person, don’t open the door. If you do, be ready for them to try to get a foot in the door and push.

Which brings me to the primary lesson that I’ve learned about boundaries over the years: distance is a boundary.

If you don’t need to be around someone, don’t be. Keep your distance, and they’ll quickly learn they need to find someone else to prey on communicate with.

For a deeper dive into the subtleties of boundaries and boundary setting, I recommend the following (wonderfully named) podcast by Victoria Priya: “Beyond Bitchy: Mastering the Art of Boundaries”

And if you have other (non-Bartleby) strategies that you’ve used to set boundaries, please share them below.