Boundaries

I got an interesting email a couple of weeks ago. It was sent to my hotmail address, which I don’t check very often. It was from the District manager for the car dealer ship I used to work for over a year ago.

Just a little back ground here. CW is the DPSM (District parts/service manager) for our store. My boss’s boss’s boss in effect. There was some chemistry there, we worked well enough together, we laughed, we joked. And my boss encouraged it. It kept CW off his back.

So, one night, after work, we went to a local Mexican joint and grabbed a couple of margaritas and shot the shit. No big deal, really. Then I had to get the girls. So I went home. The next night we met at another hole in the wall, and had a couple of drinks, then decided we’d go to a martini bar since I had never gone. He drove. (Should have known better).

The martini bar was kickin. Totally loved that place, and 2 cosmopolitans later I was in no shape to drive home. So, back to his hotel, and I’ll spare you all (and myself) the details. This was not normal, or typical behavior on my part. But it was hard to deny the chemistry that was between us.

Over the next few months we talked on the phone, exchanged emails, but never saw each other away from the dealership. I began to think about my behavior that night, coupled with some other self discovery I was going through, and some growing up I was doing. I began to realize that that night was a mistake. I was looking for something he could never give me. I had to find it within myself. He kept hoping I was wrong. I realized it was sex, he kept hoping I would think it was love. It wasn’t. I sent him an email to that effect, and asked him to forget about that night, as I would be trying desperately to forget about it as well. After that, contact was fleeting, and when I left the dealership, it stopped altogether.

Until 2 weeks ago. I got an email from him, he was in town, staying at the same hotel, had been by the Mexican joint, and ‘had flashback memories’ and had then gone by the martini bar, and of course brought up more memories, and then decided he’d stay in the same hotel. Oy.

He mentioned that maybe the next time he was in town we could get together for a drink, just to catch up. I agreed to one drink, no more. And it would be here in my town and I would not be getting into his car at any point during the night. I told him all about Batman, and how I had made a promise to myself, and to Tate, that B would be it for me. No one else, if not him, then no one. Period.

He seemed to be agreeable. Then I told him about my photography, and that’s when I found out his true motive. He jokingly asked if he could get me in front of the camera and take some pictures of me, just for himself. His exact phrase was “I will request my own personal stash of BH photos, not many…if I get the chance.” I refused. I don’t want him to have pictures of me to do lord knows what with. I refused several more times, telling him there would be zero pictures taken that night, and he kept pushing and ignoring it.

Finally I sent him this email today. “You know, some things just never change. I set down some boundaries, and you have continued through these emails to ignore them and try and steamroll right over them. I made it clear, there will be no pictures taken. Period. And yet, you seem to think it's funny to ignore that.

We shared two night of drinks and one night of drunken sex. I try to forget that night. I was looking for something that I thought you could give me. I was wrong. I had to find it for myself, within myself. And I have. I have the love and acceptance of myself now. And Respect. It seems to me that you don't respect me, or my wishes, or the boundaries I have defined.

That being said, please don't call me this week, as I won't be meeting you for margarittas, or anything else, this week, or ever again. Please forget what happened between us one drunken night so long ago. I have long forgotten it. And don't want to remember it ever again. “

I hope he gets the message. We shall see. But it felt good to stand up for myself, to define and defend my boundaries. I made them clear, and he refused to respect them. There is power in taking a stand and knowing I don’t have to put up with his BS or the fact that he doesn’t respect me, my wishes or my boundaries.