How I Learned To Set Boundaries

[Listen to an audio version of this blog here.]

For a very long time I tried to be someone I wasn’t so that people would like me: so that my family would think I was doing the right thing; so that other women would accept me and include me; so that men would accept me and love me. But every time I skirted away from myself or changed myself to try to win the love of others, I somehow ended up lonelier. And the lonelier I became, the more uncomfortable it was to be alone. I dated one man for far too long, making excuses for him along the way. “He made me dinner,” I told my therapist one day. “And he drove all the way from Beverly Hills to see me.”

“How often does he come see you?” therapist asked me.

“Almost never,” I admitted, before putting a positive spin on the situation, “but we like when I go see him because he doesn’t have a roommate.”

Ugh. I hated how weak I sounded. I hated that I was defending a man who did not deserve my affection, but somehow had it. This wasn’t new behavior, but I was becoming more aware of what I was doing.

“Sarah,” therapist said, leaning toward me a bit, “it sounds like he’s doing the bare minimum. Don’t sell yourself short.”

After each failed relationship, I’d promise myself I’d take time to be alone. To really enjoy singlehood for…