Solo satisfied

Othering of the other

We talk a lot about boundaries.

Like, societally. The term gets thrown around as a recommendation, reminder, problem, prognosis, and mandate – both in regards to ourselves as well as towards others. Add to that, other words like ‘not enough’ or ‘too much/rigid’. Those too are heavy hitters in boundaries discussion and diagnoses/ temperature taking.

I think about boundaries – as in my introduction to the terminology by which practices and persons are tallied – and think of: my father. Not from him, but ‘about’ him. For instance: when uncertain, confused, anxious, and angry (though I rarely understand that emotion in myself until later, much later, years later even) about some interaction that had an aspect of something I could not get my head around. Expression of said cocktail of confused and confronting emotions tended to come to a head when I returned to my mom’s house - circa late 90’s – after a weekend with pops and his wife. For context: Ma and I lived in DC (born and raised, baby!), as my post-divorce parental second home was in Northern VA – aka ‘the burbs. A/k/a ‘lame-o’.

Get on your teenage headband and high pony, and follow me: in VA I had no friends, a bedroom that was model home perfect and 100% vapid. My role in that abode was two-tiered: 1) do homework 2) get along with my unwelcoming stepmother. Tasks included: 1) more homework, 2) attend movies at the multiplex with my father and ‘her’, 3) browse Tower Records and/or Barnes and Nobel with the above couple, 4) keep my music down, 5) never eat too much or ask for too many alterations to stepmother-mapped menu choices, 6) accompany the ‘family’ to the video store (Blockbuster or less patronized Video Palace- I preferred Video Palace as I had a three-year running crush on an employee. This lusting was the first of three unrequited romances I’ve held for video store staff in my time, streaming being the only thing stopping the trend – sadly), and 7) Watching said ‘not-too-adult’ flick while not eating too much supper in the ‘tv room’ with the ‘rent and non-‘rent – a pattern only happily interrupted when the film was unexpectedly mature (remind me to tell you how my stepmother causally rented Bound and I snuck in But I am a Cheerleader).

This whole thing was Hell. Not simply adolescent Hell, but Hell – Hell. Not simply in the boredom, though boredom is real. Very real. What was the bad part, the pervasive aspect, was the atmosphere. The emotional temperature of forced togetherness and pressure to perform in the role of daughterly family goodness to buoy a parent, my father, in a very new and exceptionally destructive union. I was to be ‘good’ so the arrangement was easier, all adults off whatever hooks involved me.

Good I was, very good. I carried the flag, waved it about, learned how to not eat (aside from my anger), and ignore my instincts.

 Sundays I returned home, to my mother, 60 Minutes and The Simpsons, and behavior years younger than my age for the rest of the evening. Dad waved goodbye, I gave a big hug and accepted a kiss like I enjoyed it (skill building for sexual willingness later), closed the door and curled up in my mom’s lap to eat a dinner of ice-cream, and sleep in her bed as true crime TV played in the background. In the AM I was back to full teenage identity – loud music, phone to my head, all stripy-tights and Daria. Thus came my first feelings of a boundary-less deep dive.

A plunge that adult me, and maybe the grown up you, got a wetsuit well fitted for, leading me (us) to hand over the keys to external parties, allowing another to determine what is ‘appropriate’. Regardless of what they choose – we accept. Feels weird, for sure. Accept as a ‘norm’: hell yes.

Example(s):

Your schedule:
Question: Have you ever been sent home early because there ‘wasn’t enough work for you’ or your class lacked any or enough signups?
Not told until last minute. Day fucked and smiled as you get back on the MTA? 

What about:
Texting by a boss or client on a Sunday?
You bite your lip and reply – in no less than 2 minutes, from the bathroom of the restaurant where you are getting brunch?

Oh, here is a good one:
You have a client who sprinkles into professional correspondence threads sexual imagery, gets in touch (numerous times, on all platforms) when you tell them you are offline for a family emergency, texts you a dupe of everything they post on their social (which you follow), calls you buy pet names, and asks you about the nuances of condom uses (you can Google that btw) …. Ring a bell?

It does for me!

 All of the above (the one below is a very recent boundary-breaking bonanza) are shades, the same shades, or the suffocation I shared from my adolescent hours. How so? This is how so:

 They, and many more tactics, work to create a ‘culture’ where your comfort is confronted as being the outlier emotion vs an accurate gage of how and when and about what you should be exposed to and participate in.

Abuse, in a very simple and base line way, begins with normalizing and encouraging acceptance. Where the supervisory party is in the position of setting the stage of normalcy. Yes! This is to say that systems and organizations (as well as individuals), construct and begin with silencing, herding into complacency and allowance not just action, but too, emotions. Yup, think herding, bulling, gaslighting, and you are on the right track!

What to do? Well, I will tell you, but you may well be fired – like I was by the client in our third example, but I promise you, it is worth it. (Note: if you cannot accept or weather termination, get your ass a sure-fire plan for a safe and responsible exit strategy, hit me up, and we can talk about those!)

Call what is happening:

This is unacceptable. We may continue to discuss this issue/work together/meet/brainstorm/figure out the schedule, and I am committed to doing so. For that to occur in good and open communication, I am voicing that what is present in the way we have and are speaking/working/scheduling is unsustainable to me.

You can say it today, you can prepare to best and better cover your ass for when you can speak what is not ‘your’ truth, but THE truth. What you need to feel set and settled is just as reasonable and vital as however things ‘work’. All work, relationships, communications are another C word: collaborative. That, that collaboration, includes you as much as the person ‘employing’ you. Work is a choice, relationships are a culture, and those are NOT one-sided arrangements.

Very, very last I do not which to close – I mean, goodness, it would be pretty shitty if I did not speak to the following – by picking up on what I dropped about systems and institutions. Disrupting those structures and the atmospheres are compliancy and pain upon persons, ourselves and observable others, are not so easily addressed. However, any solution can and will only be begun by speaking to what is. That step alone is a courage not so easily executed, and yet – monolithically commendable.

Children do not have the words, I did not, to do more than recover vs rebut a boundary breakage. I certainly did not. But we are not children. We can call it. Dial the phone for change and restraint cannot come otherwise.