If you’re offended by my boundaries, then you’re probably one of the reasons I need them
Steve Maraboli
I love being on LinkedIn. I have slowly built a growing network of connections. I have read articles others have written and engaged in some delightful conversations. It is wonderful to have a way to find people to talk to about my chosen career path and get their insights about how to best navigate my way forward. I appreciate being able to keep track of former coworkers as they continue their professional journeys. I enjoy using my limited influence to help others build their networks. For all of these reasons, LinkedIn is my home page on my internet browser.
I have recently come to appreciate something else LinkedIn offers: a way to report others, block them, and remove them from my network. Until this week, I never needed to use these features. This is a professional networking website and for the most part, users all abide by the professional code of conduct implicit in the workplace. I have been blessed by connecting to people who understand boundaries.
The context for behavior is one of the ways we adjust our expectations. I don’t to go the beach and anticipate finding individuals wearing their finest evening gown and tuxedos as they stroll along the tide line any more than I expect to see people in church wearing swimsuits. Flirting is fine on a date, enjoying a glass of wine is quite a normal when eating dinner in a fine restaurant, but I’d be put off by both of these at an early morning meeting with a client in their office.
Not everyone seems to understand these boundaries, or they believe the rules don’t apply to them. I recently accepted a connection from a middle-aged white male I’ll call Z. He sent me a follow-up message that was both incoherent and creepy. Towards the end of his rambling, Z gushed about how attractive he found me. I replied with a firm but polite smack-down on his inappropriate behavior, reported him, muted him, and removed him from my contacts list. I have boundaries and he bulldozed through them.
I have since learned that muting is different from blocking. Z had the audacity to reply that I was wrong to be angry in my response. Z is apparently offended by women like me having boundaries. I have reported him again and Z is now blocked. As far as my LinkedIn experience is concerned, he no longer exists.
I return to the quote above and the issue of boundaries. The context for behavior matters. Had this occurred in a different setting, my response would have been different. If I were visiting a loved one in a dementia wing of a long-term care facility and been approached by Z, I would have reacted with compassion and assumed I reminded him of someone he knew. On a date, I might have been flattered by his appreciation for my appearance. In the workplace, Z would have gotten a firm rebuff and been reported to his supervisor for improper conduct. LinkedIn is designed to mirror the standards of our workplace. In this context, Z acted inappropriately.
We all have boundaries. We all have expectations about how others should treat us based on context and the nature of our relationship. When those expectations are not met, we can feel violated, disrespected, unsettled, or demeaned. I took swift action because I insist my boundaries are important and must be respected. I can’t change his behavior, but I can hold him accountable for it.
When we all agree on the basic boundaries of appropriate behavior, we all benefit. Society functions more smoothly when we know how to conduct ourselves in different situations. Our parents called it teaching us manners. What they were really teaching us was how to adapt our behaviors to minimize harm to others. When we hold others accountable for violating social norms, we protect the vulnerable. When we blame the victim, we perpetuate the problem. I see healthy boundaries as behavioral fences, and good fences make good neighbors.
