Some spiritual traditions posit that souls are reincarnated, and that some souls spend entire lifetimes trying to make amends for, or improve upon, things they did in previous lifetimes. If this is true, it seems clear to me that I must have been sent to this earth to work on my boundary-setting. It is a theme that has haunted my life.
For one thing, I’m a woman, and that’s a gender group our society explicitly encourages to be bad at boundary-setting. Women are supposed to juggle a career, housework, caretaking of their partner and/or children, and their own self-care, all while somehow being “chill” about the amount of physical, emotional, and logistical work thrust upon them. Women are also routinely encouraged to ignore or suspend our own boundaries in the realm of the romantic and sexual, chiefly because it often benefits shitty men when we do so. (Yuck.)
I’m also a freelancer and a person who works from home, two oft-overlapping identities that make a person even more vulnerable to having their boundaries bent or overstepped. Freelancers may experience bosses and editors expecting quick responses to any and all communiqué, work overflowing past the hours allotted for it (often without additional pay), and friends and family assuming we’re available at all times simply because we set our own schedules. It’s a nightmarish career for anyone who struggles with boundary-setting!
…Except that it doesn’t have to be. Whether you see it as a spiritual lesson or a purely practical one, there is much to be learned from having your boundaries repeatedly steamrolled in settings both personal and professional. The better I get at protecting my own energy and time through ruthless boundary-setting, the stronger and happier I feel overall. It’s a fantastic skillset to develop, for so many reasons. I’m not always as good at it as I’d like to be, but it feels great when I am.
One of the reasons I’ve been obsessed with boundary-setting in recent years is that my chronic illness has gotten worse and worse. My flare-ups are triggered by stress, among other things, so stress reduction is a top-level priority for me at this point. One of my new year’s resolutions for 2021 was to eliminate as many unnecessary stressors as humanly possible from my life this year, and setting better boundaries in my work life is a key way I’ve been doing that.
Here are some of my current professional boundaries:
- I only work between 9 a.m. and 5 p.m., and only on weekdays. This includes work-related writing, answering business emails/DMs/etc., doing research for articles, and so on. Past 5 p.m., and on weekends, I am unavailable for business interactions. There are 2 exceptions to this rule: 1) If I’m genuinely excited to work on something – such as if inspiration for a fun blog post suddenly strikes on a Saturday – then it’s okay to work on it at any time, so long as I’m not pushing myself too hard. 2) I sometimes have to do podcast recordings outside of work hours due to guests’ scheduling needs, which is fine. I’ll just try to rest for an equivalent amount of time during the next work day to make up for it.
- I do not accept writing assignments that pay less than $0.20 per word. (If the assignment in question offers a flat rate or an hourly rate instead of a per-word rate, I’ll try to convert it to per-word to figure out whether it meets this standard.) In the early days of my career, it made some sense to take on low-paying (and even unpaid) assignments much more often, to build my portfolio, skillset, brand, and professional network – but with two book deals and countless bylines under my belt, I deserve and expect better payment these days. I sometimes consider lower-paying gigs if they offer some combination of creative freedom, a topic I find fascinating, a prestigious byline, fun perks (e.g. free travel), and/or cool collaborators, but for the most part, I’d rather have fewer projects (even if that means making less money overall) than feel resentful of the low-paying work I’ve allowed into my life.
- I don’t generally accept feedback on my writing from people who have not actually read the piece(s) they are criticizing. I used to think theirs was a valid form of critique in some ways, but there have just been too many baffling instances of people becoming angry or upset because of what they assume I’ve written, having not even read what I’ve actually written. Almost all of the time, the points they’re making are already addressed in the piece, and sometimes we even agree with each other. You cannot reason with someone who is arguing from a place of presumption and bad faith. Reading someone’s work is the lowest possible bar you have to clear before you’re able to critique it in a coherent, accurate, and good-faith manner.
- I don’t write things I don’t really believe, ever. That means, among other things, that I don’t accept sponsored post assignments from clients who demand fraudulently positive reviews of their products/services. Everything on this blog (except for a handful of guest posts written by people I personally invited to contribute) is written by me and reflects an opinion I actually hold (or, at least, an opinion I held at the time that I wrote it).
Despite how clearly necessary these boundaries are, it can be surprisingly hard sometimes to hold firm when they are pushed. This is why I have certain stock phrases/messages I can send to firmly but kindly express my boundaries, such as:
- “That rate is too low for me, but best of luck!”
- “For your future reference, I work Monday through Friday from 9 a.m. to 5 p.m. ET and am otherwise out of office.”
- “From your suggested rate, it sounds like you’re looking for an entry-level writer. As you know from my portfolio, that isn’t me, so it sounds like we’re not a fit at this time.”
Some such sentences sound embarrassingly self-aggrandizing (particularly when you have impostor syndrome!), such that I sometimes have to give myself a little pep talk before I can hit “send.” I often have to remind myself to avoid language that softens my boundary (e.g. “Just a reminder that I mostly only work on weekdays…” or “Usually my rate is at least double that, but…”) and to remain firm in my tone. Sometimes I’ll have an assertive, communication-savvy friend or partner read over my message before I send it, to make sure I’m expressing myself clearly and kindly. Or sometimes I just trust myself and click “send” easily, knowing I’m doing the right thing for myself and that any client worth having will respect my boundaries wholeheartedly.
Standing up for myself is simultaneously one of the scariest things I ever do and one of the most empowering. It doesn’t always feel comfortable – or even possible – but whenever I manage to do it, my life gets easier, calmer, and happier. My achy body appreciates the reduction in stress immensely – and my nervous brain appreciates the reminder that my needs and wants are just as important as everybody else’s.