What would your ideal flying situation look like? An empty seat in your row so you can stretch out a little? A totally smooth, no turbulence, completely on time flight at an affordable rate? Or maybe just full on private jet daydream – big comfy seats, all the beverages and snacks you want, and the only people on the plane are the ones you want on your trip?
Flying for a people pleaser like me can be a little stressful – the data from my smart ring is indisputable. From ensuring that I am the perfect A+ prime example of a flyer going through TSA to hydrating and having very strong breath mints available to myself and my seatmates, to timing out every single movement needed to extract myself from the plane as smoothly and efficiently as possible: my goal is to simply evaporate into the atmosphere so no one is the least bit inconvenienced by my selfish and frankly very self-centered desire to fly. That’s why I always pick the aisle seat because it inconveniences the least amount of people. But I’m also a very nice spouse so I let him have the aisle seat when we travel together which puts me in the dreaded middle seat. Which is the seat that provides the most opportunity for inconvenience.
I recently found myself on a middle seat flight and through a myriad of factors, I was not really feeling like my people-pleasing self. The window seat flyer had already taken up ownership of the armrest (against standard airplane armrest etiquette) but otherwise appeared to be a very pleasant seatmate. He did decline my offer of a breath mint so maybe I offended him. It was a long flight and I noticed his seatback screen wasn’t working which sucks. But I settled in, put a movie on, and went about my normal plane-riding behavior. Throughout the flight I noticed his leg continually moving further and further over into my leg space. I tended to lean towards the aisle, where my husband was, but I do like the full access of my tiny designated area, as most of us do. When he had occupied about 2/3 of the space, I decided to “reset” by reaching for my backpack to pull out something which required the full leg space. He moved his leg back into his space. We did this dance a few more times. At one point I just planted my legs in my space and I could tell he didn’t like that my leg was touching his – which was over in my leg space. I don’t need the full width of my seat and neither did he, but that doesn’t really mean he gets to gradually take over and count on me cringing away to give him that space.
Anyways, it was frustrating. And it reminded me of boundaries, because, clearly, he was encroaching on physical boundaries. Boundaries is a fun buzz word most people with minimal amounts of therapy exposure can use to advise people in undesirable situations on. And it’s also a big part of real estate and title. Setting boundaries is hard work – that first time you have to communicate a firm boundary can be absolutely terrifying but there is an enormous sense of relief that comes right after you set it. And that lasts up until that boundary is crossed. Think about how a surveyor sets physical boundary markers when they’re surveying. Let’s say they set a boundary marker clearly in your neighbor’s yard (or what your neighbor thinks is their yard). Maybe they have a shed over your boundary line. That physical boundary marker is bright, obvious, and so very there. Once you set that boundary it’s uncomfortable. But it’s what happens after that boundary is set and crossed that I want to focus on.
In the physical survey example, the second the boundary is established, it’s also been crossed. Now what? Do you allow the neighbor’s shed to remain on your property or do you request that they remove it? With intangible boundaries this is the first point of frustration: I just did all the work to SET the boundary can you give me two seconds before I have to make another decision and continue the confrontation?? This is why set boundaries are so easily encroached – the setting of the boundary is itself an indicator that this is a pain point for the individual, so it’s likely that encroaching on said boundary won’t result in immediate action. And that encroachment gradually grows and grows until the individual reaches their tolerance threshold.
Then there’s the reset. Okay neighbor, I understand that your shed has been there for five years, but I did request that you remove it (or pay for your own survey) and you’ve done neither in the last two months. I’m really going to need you to remove your shed. That’ll show them I mean business, right? Wrong.
This brings us to the next rung on the uncomfy ladder – consequences. If I was a parent, this would be a great time for a child rearing example. If you don’t remove your shed by [specified date], I will be removing the portions of your shed that encroach on my property as delineated by the boundary marker. That’s the notification of the consequence. The final rung is the execution of the consequence – removal of the shed.
The point: establishing and enforcing boundaries is a singular, individual, lonely practice. Any expectation you may have of others advocating for you, respecting your boundary, or understanding why you need to set said boundary is a recipe for frustration. If even the clearest, most obvious boundary of the width of your airplane seat and the corresponding foot room is not respected by a well-meaning individual, why do we expect our intangible boundaries to be respected? Setting is just the tip of the iceberg. Any discussion about setting boundaries should include the entire cycle: set, reset, notify, execute.
The resolution: it’s work. Boundaries are work that doesn’t end once they’re set. You have to constantly evaluate the boundary, how it’s being encroached, and what you want to do about it. But you CANNOT expect anyone else to do the work, because they won’t. I was waiting, for hours, for the seatmate to realize his mistake, to pull his leg back into his seat space. He never did. How much time are you wasting waiting for someone to course correct because they “should know better.” They don’t, or they don’t care – it’s not a big deal. You’re smaller than him, so it’s okay that you get less space to take up. That’s what boundary-setting boils down to: creating space for yourself. Have the audacity to take up the full space that your boundary-setting allows for. Respond quick and often to those that encroach. Accept that this is work worth doing because of how it makes you feel and you are entitled to that space. And never forget that it is hard, and it is work, but it is work worth doing. Because I don’t know about you, but I’m not giving up on the private jet daydream.
