There’s something you have to understand about me. I am one of those people who must assert certain boundaries.
Narcissists violate my boundaries, as do huggers.
When babies and small kids are excessively cute, they violate my boundaries by manipulating me into wanting them, and I have a firm boundary against being manipulated. I often find myself at the park, yelling at toddlers, “Stop waddling! Just walk like a person, for fuck’s sake!” Because it is important to communicate one’s boundaries.
Some of my boundaries have to do with the fact that I’m an introverted extrovert. The implications of this cannot be overstated and need not be explained.
Certain topics are presumptive boundary violators. These include my unread e-mails, death, and your boundaries.
Socializing in large groups triggers digital sensors around my boundaries and sets them on high alert, especially if there are no men present with whom I’d like to sleep.
Please do not expect my boundaries to be simple. Have you heard of gerrymandering? My boundaries were set in 1812.
If my boundaries were property lines, they would be clearly marked with “Private Keep Out” and “Beware of Dog” signs. The dogs in question would be a brother-sister pair of German shepherds named Self-Respect and Self-Care.
Trespassing across my boundaries would be a strict-liability tort in the field of boundary law. I have not been to law school, so I do not know if this makes sense, but what is important is that I believe it to be true. So do my boundaries, who are thinking about applying to law school. Well, they’re thinking about thinking about it.
If you do not have a legal mind like my boundaries and me, you can visualize my boundaries as a topographical map with me at the summit. Approaching the summit would be a boundary violation of the most egregious kind, obviously. I am taking some alone time up there.
Keep in mind, too, that boundary-crossing is a violation of my boundaries, so if you cross my boundaries you will have crossed a very important boundary of mine.
I know that my boundaries are constraining, but they serve all of us. Do you know what would happen without them? That would be chaos. It would be an Alsace-Lorraine situation, and we all know what that leads to.
I realize that comparing my boundaries to militarized national borders makes them sound a little fascist. Honestly, they are. Please know that I do not agree with my boundaries politically. We avoid discussing the subject as a matter of respect for each other’s boundaries.
My boundaries are kind of libertarian, as well. They have that snake flag outside their house that says “Don’t Tread on Me.” They also keep snakes as pets. It’s a little scary, yes.
If you’re wondering how my boundaries can be libertarian and fascist at the same time, I’d like to tell you about a little place called the U.S.A. You see, my boundaries are inextricably bound up in our national myths and prejudices. My boundaries are extremely problematic.
You may be thinking that I should take more responsibility for my boundaries. Sure. I can see that. And I wish I could explore it, but I’ve had to erect a boundary around boundary-related introspection. My boundaries are a closed system, logically speaking, and we all just need to accept that.
Wait, I’ve said too much. It has come to my attention that I’ve violated my boundaries’ boundaries by discussing my boundaries. This is a sensitive time for us. We are like Meghan and Harry, in that we are victims of the vicious British tabloid media and also we are royalty. I must go. Please respect our boundaries as my boundaries and I sort this out.
