I was once described as elegant. Once. The culprit was the elderly owner of a bed & breakfast on the outskirts of an ethereal town on Lake Garda. I was perched on a bench in her hallway, buckling my heels ahead of dinner. Having watched me with increasing intensity, she leaned forward, cupped my chin in her hand, and breathed in her rolling Italian accent the following words:
“So elegant.”
Never have I received a compliment so emphatic, so sincere.
Did I question her linguistic abilities? Yes.
Did I question my interpretation of her accent? Absolutely.
I’ve been described as many things over the years, ranging from pale to cool, strong minded to stubborn. But one suggestion that has never been repeated since, is elegant.
Honestly, I’m fine with that. Unapologetic. In this instance, absence speaks truth.
And I’m about to embody that in a very inelegant transition. Because, something which encapsulates my inelegance in 2022 has been my attempt to establish boundaries. And enforce them.
As a recovering people pleaser, I didn’t consciously set out to change my ways. I’m hardwired to ensure the comfort of those around me, and for much of my life, that’s been at my own expense.
I’ll give you my scarf, even if it leaves me freezing.
I’ll lend you a jar of mayo, even if that leaves my own sandwich dry as hell.
In recent years, I’ve come to recognise the stupidity of that. *Insert cliché metaphor about fitting your own oxygen mask first*. In the majority of mundane scenarios, self-sacrifice is excessive. It does no-one any favours. Everyone is short-changed. You’re left as a pastel-coloured version of yourself, and the other person is robbed of the opportunity to experience you in your full glory.
But breaking those habits is tough. It’ll lead people around you to conclude you’ve changed.
“You’re different,” they’ll say. Rarely will they mean it as a compliment.
“Why now?” They’ll ask. After all, you never used to care about this stuff.
They might even lead you to question your own rules. But alas, my friend, this is how growth feels. I’m sure of it.
A great analogy to demonstrate boundaries pertains to home visitors, which I believe I heard from the fabulous Michelle Elman (check out her Instagram for much better commentary than mine on boundaries).
So, your door bell chimes. The dog barks. You yell a few expletives, answer the door and invite your neighbour inside. The following day, you return home from the office to find Jean from number 28 chilling on your couch.
“What are you doing here?” you demand.
“Well, you let me in yesterday.”
Get it? Choosing to let someone in once does not allow them endless backstage access to you and your life. But unlearning those habits can cause friction, especially when others have come to expect them.
That’s certainly been true for me.
I reckon society has a lot to answer for. Especially to women.
We’re conditioned to be palatable. Make your argument, but for God’s sake, do it nicely. Heaven knows you don’t want to be mistaken for an angry feminist. Of course, when we introduce intersectionality to the equation, the message heightens.
You’re a woman and disabled? Well, kid, you’d better be extra lovely, extra grateful. Deign to talk about accommodations and society’s failure to consider you, and you are bitter. You’re all twisted up by your shit hand in life, resentful of the healthier ones, hell bent on making their lives harder.
I mean, please, as if we have the energy.
It takes quite some reprogramming to stop overcompensating against that narrative, to kick that that seemingly selfless habit. Overcoming the impulse to throw ourselves into the canal to make room on the tow path is hard. Harder, even, than understanding why we do it.
Be it learned behaviours from past relationships, one-sided friendships, toxic family dynamics, or an abusive work environment, I think most of us have some stuff to figure out.
Personally, for 2023, I’m hoping to navigate such matters with more composure. Because when implemented and enforced calmly, boundaries can feel elegant. They can feel smooth and natural and right.
Like the lovely Magdelena in the panelled hall of her Lake Garda B&B, you hope the result will produce an aura of serenity; one that will gradually spread and settle into all corners of your life.