“Baby”, Birria, and Boundaries
Hi guys, welcome back to my blog. A lot has happened since the last time I posted , so there’s much to discuss. Now that I have my degree and I know everything, surely you all will see me more.
This post is rather narrative in structure, so despite it being long, it should go by quickly. I used fake names, the occasional paraphrasing, and changed a few details in order to give a little more privacy to the individuals discussed in this post.
February 19, 2025
I’ve been trying to sell a watch I bought as a birthday gift for Daniel, a man that I . . .
I don’t even know whether to use a present or past tense of the verb I was about to type there, so I’ll let you fill in the blank.
Long story short, we didn’t make it to me giving it to him. Now it sits on top of my dresser next to the book he lent me when we first started seeing one another.
I cannot in good conscience donate or sell his book; it’s simply not mine to give, and it’s his favorite. At some point, I’ll return it once I finish, but I also can’t seem to make myself read it. Partially because I didn’t really care for the motion-picture I saw of it, partially because I know the minute I put in a box and mail it back, that day will be our unequivocal end. At least for me.
Anyway, Daniel knew me really well. He told me once, “It’s not good when you try to stick things out until it boils all the way over for you,” and he was right. When I’ve reached a breaking point, when I’ve been pushed past my limits, or when my boundaries are crossed once more, I boil over worse than a pot of pasta foaming up to the top.
But that’s enough about Daniel. This post isn’t about him.
While I can’t give the book away, I could list that watch for sale, and that’s exactly what I did a few weeks ago. Finally, a stranger messaged me about it on the bolded date listed several lines ago. We planned to meet in front of my neighborhood Kroger.
Other than opening the box when I first got it just to see make sure nothing was damaged in transport, it’s a new watch. The inner box packaging, little brand pamphlet, and wrappings were left untouched. I didn’t even remove the silica gel packet.
It’s important to note, I haven’t gotten a new watch since the seventh grade. With that being said, it’s been a long time since I opened a new watch. So, I forgot you have to press in the winding knob to start it, but I did remember you could go to Macy’s and get the links taken out for free.
Instead of bringing someone with me to meet up with a complete stranger, I opted to call Roa for reassurance that one, the stranger’s profile didn’t look sketchy, and two, I could outrun him if need be. My final layer of protection was telling him to stay on the phone with me while the sale was happening.
Now let me briefly explain who Roa is to me.
I’ve loved (romantically) three men, and he was the first of them. We dated, and I use this term loosely, for about seven to eight months back in my freshman year. I was 19, and I think he was about my age now, maybe a year younger, when I met him. Not an age gap I recommend by the way, since it has historically played a part in the dynamics of our relationship, during both our romantic and platonic phases.
Despite knowing him for four years, we’ve only been cool with one another for about two. Before we became friends again some months ago, we hadn’t spoken for a year, and before that? Maybe a little over a year of no contact.
To be nice, out of those three men, Roa was and still is the easiest to talk to. Our banter paired well with the fact that at one point in time, I adored the sound of his voice. He never failed to hype me up whether it was my brain, looks, or personal interests, his confidence in himself never wavered, and whenever I needed help, whether with an assignment or in the case of my “Blackouts & PB&Js” essay, he was there for me.
If I was to be critical, maybe even a little derogatory, I’d say Roa is rather sensitive, piercingly condescending when angry or irritated, has a major Napoleon Complex (I mean, he’s 5’6 on a good day, and for reference, I’m 5’6 on a mediocre day), and he’s grossly millennial. He says words like “floofy” when referring to puppies…Finally, he possesses a unique ability to avoid accountability at all costs, while making you feel like an idiot for even suggesting a mere misstep on his part. Gaslighting. I think that’s what they call it. In recent years, he’s not as good as he used to be, or maybe in recent years, I’ve just gotten better at noticing it. It’s probably both.
But I’m not being derogatory. And before you think I’m being shady, I’d tell him all of this to his face and have mostly.
Now, I don’t love him anymore. That feeling escaped me a long time ago. However, and despite all of those negative things I could say about him if asked, I have love for him. His impact on my life greatly influenced who I am today, and romantic feelings aside, we had truly become friends. We can be so cool with one another. Until we’re not.
If you couldn’t tell, just like Daniel and I, Roa and I are not cool right now, but this isn’t a book situation like in the case with Daniel. There’s no loose ends to tie up.
The stranger and I met at 5ish in front of the produce entrance. He was an unintimidating man, who kept saying his English wasn’t great, but I understood him perfectly. I opened the box to show him the watch, in pristine condition, still on the phone with Roa.
“Why isn’t it moving?” he said. Do you remember what I didn’t remember?
I told him maybe it just needed a new battery, since it had been sitting up for so long. Defeated, I walked back to my car, trying to figure out how to make the watch tick before the man drove off the lot. I was having a bad week that week, and I needed a win.
Roa apparently wasn’t paying attention to our conversation. So much for him being able to call someone if I got knifed…
Anyway, here’s the conversation after he asked me what happened:
“Well he asked me why it wasn’t moving. I literally bought this in [REDACTED]. It makes no sense that it won’t work, and I just want to get rid of this,” I say as I’m flipping this watch over in every way possible, trying to figure out why the hands won’t move.
“Well have you let it get some sunlight, some watches use like solar energy?”
It’s been sitting in a BOX in MY ROOM for SEVERAL months like I TOLD him already. But the mind is silent as Junie B. Jones said, and I knew he was just trying to help.
“No. I’ll give it ten minutes. I’m not even sure if the watch hands are twisting when I move the knob because my nails are making this hard.”
“Wait…did you turn it on?”
“No???? What do you mean???”
“Baby you got to turn it on first, like press the button in.”
Waituhdamnminute….did he just call me….God I don’t even want to type it out again.
I didn’t know what to say, so I just clicked the knob and sat in a confused short silence when, “Wait I don’t know why I just called you that. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to.”
Now, perhaps I should’ve said something right away, but if you all remember several posts ago, I have this curse of being nonreactive when something unexpected happens. Plus, he apologized. It was a genuine, one-time mistake? He had never done it before. That is, until he said it again 15 minutes later.
“Yoooo, you gotta chill. Don’t call me that haha.”
And I thought this weird whateverinthef*ckthatwas was done right there, until I received these texts shortly after we got off the phone:
He had already pissed me off with the first text, but I didn’t really want to make a big deal out of anything to avoid an argument.
But something clicked when I read “deal with the consequences”.
Oh, and by the way, I still have the watch. After telling the guy I was able to start it, he told me he’d want to try it on first to make sure it would fit. I knew at this point, he was trying to get over on me, so no deal. If you’re in the market for a men’s gold watch with a green face, let me know.
February 25, 2025
In a recent preliminary study, research finds that people love me with these boho faux locs. I’ve been approached by people that would have never approached me before.
But, my favorite so far has been the store attendant who I asked for some help from at the mall.
“You’re pretty, I think we should be friends!” she said, and we exchanged numbers right then. I was flattered, and somehow she radiated so much positivity even at a soul crushing job in a dying mall with a manager who seemed to watch her like a hawk.
She’s a few years younger than me, bubbly, extroverted, and rivals Trish from Austin & Ally with the number of jobs she’s had. We really clicked during our first hangout, which, unbeknownst to her, was unexpected for me since I wasn’t in a social mood.
She had posted on her story a picture of some delectable-looking Birria tacos a few days after we hung out, and I’ve been dying for something—anything—remotely similar to Los Compas in Fayetteville. I told her I wanted to go, and we made a plan for Tuesday, February 25th at 5PM.
This was perfect for me. I get off work at 4:30, and the place was 30 minutes away (30 minutes away in the OPPOSITE direction of my house, making my drive home 30+ minutes). In my mind, I was sure to be home by 7:15 at the latest. I had some things to do, and not enough time to do it if I arrived any later.
4:06 PM rolls around, and I get a text from her asking if we can push it back to 5:30.
Now, my initial thought was no, given my plans, but after some tight re-crunching of the numbers, I felt like I could make it work. I still really wanted to see her of course, so I said sure.
I’m driving there and while on the phone with my mom, a pickup truck almost T-Bones me as I’m going through a light. Scared shitless, and in a part of town I don’t care to be in, I wanted to be home immediately—but I made a promise. I make it to the restaurant, park, finish up telling my mom about my day, when I texted:
Since there was no word from her by 5:40 on when she’d arrive, and I had been at this place since 4:55 (I waited to text her until I got off the phone with my mom), and I had shit to do when I got home, I decided to get in the drive thru, get my food, and I’d call her asking to reschedule whenever I got my food from the window.
Perhaps it was tacky of me to do things in that order since I had only given her ten minutes post the newly agreed upon time, and most service providers give at least 15, but my thought was, “She probably needs to reschedule and got really caught up. I’m already here, might as well get something, and if she rolls up while I’m in line, we can just go inside.”
I did exactly what I said in the paragraph before last, and when I’m two-more-seconds-on-the-pedal away from driving out the lot and pressing the call button on her contact, I get this text at 5:47 PM…
I called her while I was parked in a spot close to the exit:
“Heyyy what’s up, you good?”
“Yeah I’m just coming from . . . . There’s so much traffic, but I’m coming!”
“Oh okay bet, I’m so sorry, I got my food already because I thought you couldn’t make it & I was about to leave haha”
“No you’re fine!!!”
“Yeah so, how far are you?”
“Uhhh I should be there at around 6 or maybe 6:10”
“Uhhhhhhh…I…Yeah, I’m sorry, I have some things to do at home that I need to finish up tonight. Are you free later this week?”
I felt so bad after getting off the phone, but I had to follow through on my at-home errands since some of them had deadlines attached.
I texted her when I got home:
How astonishing the difference in the responses I received from her, someone I barely know, compared to a person I’ve actually been in love with before! She wasn’t snarky or telling me I should’ve just stayed until she got there. She didn’t make excuses or give me explanations disguised as insults. She even apologized which, I wasn’t looking for, I mean, I understand life happens. I felt so much relief and appreciation from her message to me. It was an incredibly refreshing feeling.
So, let’s review. In both of these instances, I set a boundary. However, I plan on seeing one of these people later this week at a free yoga class, and the other? We’re not speaking. We might never speak again actually, and I’m okay with that especially after some self-reflection and decisions on how to make my life…better.
Roa and I did continue the conversation past that screenshot, where I basically told him, no, I don’t want to be called a pet name you would only use in reference to someone you were dating. Shocker.
It’s not that he’d be calling me the same name as her; there’s many overused pet names people use for their significant other. It’s him obviously regarding “baby” as a term of romantic endearment—at least to an extent, and calling me it. I mean, he doesn’t call his other friends “baby”. I’ve also met and seen the way he interacts with his other girl friends. I’ve yet to hear any sort of term like it slip out of his mouth.
Well, Taylor, you did only ask about his male friends.
Okay, I see your point, and I’ll raise you this: if he really called his other girl friends “baby”, then why would he only single out his ex when giving me his ridiculous explanation. Mind you, we’ve become friends again after we dated before, and he had never done this then.
I don’t need to be assigned a role subconsciously in his brain that could lead to other issues down the line in our friendship. I’m not romantically obligated nor do I want to be to him presently or in the future. And aside from all of that, I already communicated I don’t like it. This alone should be enough.
From this experience in particular, I’ve learned there’s about three steps to setting a boundary:
Make a realistic one.
I wrote a post three years ago about the saying “If they wanted to, they would”, and in it, I discussed that too often people use the motto to set unrealistic expectations for their relationships. But my request was simple. I didn’t ask him to give me financial compensation for being weird. I didn’t ask him to wait on me hand and foot or something until I got over it. Hell, I didn’t even ask him to apologize. All I said, was don’t refer to me as that.
Communicate it, effectively.
It’s best to not back your statements of sincerity with joking undertones. Maybe had I not spoken so casually with him when initially communicating it, I wouldn’t even have a post to write.
Stand firm. Do not engage when they don’t respect it or attempt to question and belittle your reasoning.
In case you wanted an update on his response to my valid claims, he went on to say “Baby” isn’t a pet name, he calls all of his friends that (lie), and the only reason he was even acknowledging this conversation in the first place was because he “respected me”. I was making a big to-do about nothing in his eyes. This was all he decided to say, never ending it with a “but I won’t call you it anymore” and I haven’t spoken to him sense.
What I’ve discovered in my self-reflections of both of these events, along with some other interpersonal relationships of mine, is when you start off letting someone cross a boundary, no matter how big or small, the longer it goes on, the harder it gets to set it.
People don’t generally like when you set boundaries, because if anything, I think our society today teaches that boundaries are meant to be crossed. It’s dangerous, exciting, and when done successfully (AKA when there’s no consequences) it gives ego boosts. People think they’re invincible when they’ve escaped accountability. And, if they can do it to you, they can do it to others, and the cycle continues, but I think this goes into a deeper conversation I’m not yet ready to write about.
What people dislike even more though, is when you hold steadfast and allow others to feel the consequences of their actions.
Going back to my Roa example, when I first met him, I didn’t know what boundaries needed to be set. I didn’t even know my likes and dislikes since dating was a completely new experience for me. I’d let things slide thinking, “he had a bad day”, “I don’t want to hurt his feelings”, or “it’s not that big of a deal”. However, in the end, I’d be the one still thinking about it and left distraught, sad, or even angry at these things I’d let pass. In turn though, like Daniel said, I would stick it out for so long, and I’d boil over in the end.
Taking what I learned from my time with Roa, I’ve become rather communicative with others or at least taken breaks until I can figure out how to express my thoughts. I also think I try to be realistic in my expectations of other people. But those first two steps are easy, at least for me. It’s the last one I so often struggle with, which is something else Daniel pointed out about me. Ever since he did, I’ve been working on it.
Something so great about accomplishing that third step is you finally start to recognize who does and does not respect you. I’m not sure know Roa doesn’t despite his boasting about it by the simple fact that he deflected back to his feelings (“Baby isn’t a pet name to me, so that must be where the disconnect is here”) and invalidated (“The fact I respect you is the only reason I’m even acknowledging it because it sounds like making something out of nothing off the rip”) my reasoning.
Boundaries are not negotiations subject to compromise. You do not need agreement from others to respected. People who value you or even just humans in general, like the bubbly extrovert who’s going to be my yoga partner in a few days, will accept those guidelines and abide by them. They understand and accept what you tell them are your pain points, and they don’t won’t want to be the drivers of those later down the line.
Respect yourself by surrounding yourself with people who respect your boundaries.
I always feel the need to say this each time in my posts, but I’m never above reproach. I cross boundaries or have gotten upset if someone sets a new one with me. I can be all the things I said about the individuals (well, Roa) I’ve discussed here, so just because I don’t talk about it doesn’t mean I think my words don’t apply. These posts are kind of my guides to live by, essentially, but just like everyone does, I fall from grace.
In fact, that’s something I plan to talk about in my next post, which I’ve been working on about being the rule, not the exception. I plan on discussing how sometimes even I love being… well, the exception to a rule—in other words, I can cross a boundary that others can’t. Stay tuned for that. I’m not sure when I’ll post because I have a few other ideas, but it should be before May begins.
If you made it all the way down here, thank you so much for reading. I apologize for the lengthiness of this post, but I wanted to come back swinging. As always, comment, text, or call if you have thoughts or critiques. See you guys soon.
