Boundaries

Sometimes I am amazed at what I don't know. I sit in 12-step meetings or therapy sessions and marvel at what seem like very basic and simple concepts to those in the room, including my therapist.  As I work through my list of recommended reading, I have many of these epiphany moments where a somewhat simple or trivial sentence stands out like fire on a page.  Like this one:

"Those who are not taught consistently how to set boundaries are left to figure out significant life experiences without proper guidance.  Unable to define healthy boundaries, these children grow into adulthood without a clear sense of their own needs, wants, emotions, or beliefs."
 

I started my period when I was 11.  My mom wouldn't even talk to me about it. She handed me a pamphlet and told me to read it.  We never discussed sexuality in any form at all whatsoever.  I remember one time thinking I was pregnant because my period was late. My friend had told me that you could get pregnant if you used the bathroom too soon after a boy.  Not knowing any better or different, I believed her.  When I told my mom that, she laughed and laughed at me, but never talked to me about how you actually get pregnant or what was good touching or bad touching, what sex is, what dating is, what is appropriate or not in a relationship.  Nothing -- we discussed nothing.

At 25, I had my first boyfriend.  We met online and corresponded for about 3 months before meeting in person.  Prior to this, I had never kissed a boy, never held hands, never had any physical relationship with a boy at all. Within 30 minutes of meeting we were half naked kissing and fondling each other. I believe in saving yourself for marriage -- so sex wasn't on the table. But we got close. Things escalated over the next three days. One morning, while cuddling, he dropped his pants, and masturbated himself to orgasm while kissing me. I didn't like it but didn't know how to say no. I had no boundaries. The next night, he dropped my pants and put his fingers inside me. I hated it. Not because it didn't feel good, but because I didn't want it to happen. I didn't want his fingers inside me.  But again, I didn't know how to say no. I had no boundaries.

From the same book: "In their literal sense, boundaries can be described as a set of rules we establish to protect ourselves and to keep our behavior in check."

That is exactly what I need, a set of rules that I establish to protect myself.  Only why do I have to establish these at 36 and not at 4 or 5 when I was supposed to?  It seems harder now.