Boundaries

Boundaries are so hard to enforce, sometimes.

Especially when someone else doesn’t honor them.

Hitler didn’t honor Poland’s or any other country's boundaries when he invaded. Nor did Saddam Hussein when he invaded Kuwait, for that matter.

Nor did my roommate in the Great Roommate Experiment.

I realized that setting and enforcing boundaries was a lesson I needed to learn, and that was part of this experiment. Another part, I suspect, was learning to have someone in my home, and with that, learning to trust. (And that may be another post for another day.) Due to this experiment, I think the Universe has something up its sleeve. Time will tell…

My roommate and I did have an earlier connection-teacher/student-and now that we had reconnected on a more mature level, I could understand her wanting to get to know me on a different level.

Yet, I am a private person. Well, somewhat of a private person. I mean I do share a bit here on this blog, but there are limits as to what I will share. And what I won’t. The same goes with friends and other human beings as well.

My roommate tried to cross that line. I made it quite clear certain topics were not up for discussion, period. At all. Ever.

I think she saw that as a challenge.

So, she continued to press for information on such topics as:

• Why I don’t date;
• Why I don’t rent out my rooms;
• Why I don’t at least list my guest room on AirBNB, at least for a week at a time;
• Why I don’t repaint/rearrange my house/garden;
• And assorted aspects about my sex life.

I gave my answer to the first question: I don’t want to.

For the next two: I don’t want anyone else in my house.

For the next one: It’s my house and this is how I like it.

For the last one: You have now crossed a line, and I left the room.

A few days later, she might bring up one of the first four again. I think I made my case on the last one. I tried very hard on the other four. I tried turning the tables and asked her why she needed to know the information: “I'm just curious. Geez.”

As for the redecoration questions, she resorted to “It’s just my opinion. I have the right to express it.” 

I’d reply, “Yes, you do. But, you’re coming off like a know-it-all. Or that you are suggesting my taste is bad.” 

"Well, you misunderstood me.” (No, I didn't, especially if you're suggesting different furniture arrangements and paint colors.)

For the renting out statements, I first tried the tactic of “Thank you. I’ll take it into consideration” thinking that would stop it. Nope.

I called her out on it and she replied, “I like to keep watering the idea.” 

But if you overwater a plant, you kill it. (I wish I'd thought of this at that time, but hindsight is always perfect.)

I stated that most people understand that “I’ll take it into consideration” also means the topic is off the table. Now.

Nope, she needs to hear the exact words, “I don’t want to talk about it, anymore.” She’s very literal. So, I said them.

She understood, but she later added the phrases “I know you don’t want to talk about it, but...” Or “This is just my opinion and you don’t have to do it, but...”

The more I said I wasn't interested in renting out my spare rooms, for she had now moved onto all my "spare" rooms, the more she watered that idea. She even suggested a friend of hers who was studying at the university down the road and was in need of a place. The more I said no, the more she said "I know you will" with a smug look on her face.

I realized that no matter how I tried to reinforce my boundaries she was determined to weasel her way in. 

So, I tried a new tactic. I simply replied, “I'm not answering the question.” And stood firm.

She even tried to overstep that, “I have a right to ask.” 

“Yes, you do. But you don’t have a right to know the answer. Only I have the right to determine who has a right to the answer.” 

My first partner had a way for dealing with questions like these, though he often came off like a smartass in his delivery.

If someone asked a personal question, he’d retort: “Are you writing a book on me?” 

If they said, “No,” which they usually did, he’d reply “Then you don’t need to know.”

If they said, “Yes,” trying to mess with him, then he’d answer, “Then leave this chapter out.” 

He thought he was being funny, I thought he was being rude, but he got his point across.

Maybe I’ll try that next time, but only if someone doesn’t get the hint the first couple of times. 

Perhaps the biggest lesson I had to learn was that I don't like not being heard. I would express myself to her and she would not listen to what I said. I don't know how many times I would tell her I'd already made up my mind, but she kept pushing which frustrated me. That is what I need to work on; letting people have their say and letting it roll off me like water off a duck's back. 

Not an easy lesson to learn, but a necessary one.

Especially for maintaining your sanity.

FYI: The GRE has come to an end as she has moved on to her next adventure. I have my guest room back!

An Introvert's Nightmare

I pushed my boundaries this past week.

I pushed them quite far and almost paid the price.

I know I should get out and socialize more, especially now that I am retired. Maybe 'should' is too strong of a word. 'Could' might fit better, less obligatory, more opportunistic. 

Plus, I know I need to socialize more in order to..., um, to..., um, well, I just need to in order to manage my introversion. And avoid depression. And loneliness.

I’ve tried finding various social groups to join but was turned off by their admittance questionnaires. I found an LGBT social group and checked them out. The very second question on their required questionnaire was "Single or Taken?" If this is a social group, what difference does that make? I decided not to join or offer some smart ass remark, like 'none of your fucking business', or just 'unavailable' but that would invite far too many questions I wasn't prepared to answer. I believe I blogged about it a while back so I won’t rehash that here as I still think it’s ridiculous.

So, I waited until another one came along and checked them out. They had no such question. Yet, shortly after joining this newly formed group, I received a group email from the organizer saying he was elated at the level of interest in this group and asked for an indication of exactly how involved each of us intended to be as there were many people on the waiting list and some of us might be dropped to make room for those on the list. WTF? If this is a social group, why is membership limited to a certain number? I guess he didn’t want it to be too unwieldy. But, I can only be as involved as my schedule, budget and interest in the proposed activities allow. What more can I say?

Why not simply allow people to be who they are?

A third group caught my eye; a group of gay men meeting once a week for dinner at a cafe about ten miles from my house. Due to scheduling and other, ahem, conflicts, it took me about three weeks to finally go, but I did. There were about seven of us that night in a broad age range, mid-30s to mid-60s. I really didn’t get much of a chance to talk with three of the men, and the two I spoke with the most were both teachers with my district! Oh, the irony, being I just retired and here I am talking shop! Another man acted as organizer and made the introductions, as the actual organizer was absent that night due to a prior commitment. 

As I sat there engaged in an introvert’s nightmare of idle chit chat, small talk and prattle with total strangers, I could feel the anxiety creeping up. But, I told myself to breathe, (if only in my mind-the telling, not the breathing) as this was actually healthy for me and I continued talking in while eating my dinner. 

In all reality, I did prepare myself for this experience. I mean, I knew I would probably be the new guy and I expected that dreaded question, "So, what’s your story?" I mentally rehearsed a synopsis, "Retired teacher, living in North Hills, no pets, just plants." And the evening was only going to last two hours. I could do this.

In the end, it wasn’t all that painful, but the inevitable did happen. One very nice man invited me to join him and his partner in all the groups they belong to, in order to meet other people. I'd heard of some of the groups and had quite mixed reviews of them. Regardless, none of the groups were ones I'd be comfortable attending. 

Once the evening was over, I headed out to my car and back home to my sanctuary.

Due to the location of the cafe, I had wanted to tag an errand on to the beginning of the evening but that didn’t pan out, as I discovered the shop I wanted to go to closed earlier than I had anticipated. So, I put that off for the next day and treated myself to my favorite lunch from another restaurant in the area. While there, I noticed an attractive man having lunch with a friend. I saw no visible indication of gayness, so I drew the conclusion he was straight. I tried not to eavesdrop on their conversation but it was apparent they knew each other and some of their family or other associates. 

But, I began thinking. After my sojourn into the community the night before, if the handsome man, or someone else had asked me out on a date, how would I feel? Yes, I will admit, I am projecting. But, it is a potential bridge I need to keep in mind, because it is a potential reality. Maybe.

Well, it wasn’t pleasant. It was excruciating. The nightmare of last night just exploded into a dream full of terror today. Instead of idle chit chat, small talk and prattle in a group setting with strangers, it was now idle chit chat, small talk and prattle in a one-on-one face-to-face singular situation! Being that this was all an admitted projection, taking place all in my mind, I used it as kind of a self-check in.

It’s quite clear, I am not ready for dating. 

The hyperventilating and near-vomiting once I was back in my car was additional proof.

Yet, through it all, I survived.