The first part to setting boundaries is apparently the healthy and natural feelings of resentment one gets.
Yes, if I think that W could say "sure, get some shirts, and have a good time shopping", then her actions could be interpreted as control. She was not wrong though to say it might be better to first look at the (many, collected over 25 years) shirts I have. Rationalizing, I know, and Jedi mind trick.
But yes, she seldom freely encourages me to do what I want, and so yes, controls rather than lets me be me.
The party thing, though, is not like you make it out. We have big (30-60 people) parties that we prepare and host ourselves. The kitchen is always stuffed with people... and I am fine with being the cook and butler and host there. I really do feel more comfortable doing something than just talking, and so yes, do cook, bottle wash, serve wine, the helpful host making sure the guests have a good time.
It does seem imbalanced though - she could be out there more.
I think fear and not having dealt much with anger and keeping it at a distance, away from me, are what hold me back. Setting boundaries and asserting myself have been problems since college. An assertiveness boot camp would be wonderful.
Journaling: W left phone book on my desk after she used it today, something that always annoyed me, why not clean it up and leave my desk like you find it? I used to put it back, cleaning up after her, but instead put it on the ground between our offices, open, keeping it plainly visible and in the way. This passive aggressive maneuver got noticed.
Tomorrow I hope to trim one of our apple trees, again without asking, and that should get noticed too. On Friday the map is finally available and I will hang it up.
One awkward thing is what to say in the morning, when I see her again, after we have spent the night in separate beds. This morning I said "morning", cheerfully, and got an annoyed look for it.
D turns 15 tomorrow, and her public birthday party is Saturday.
Luke
M58, xW54 S22, D18 M 1984, D 2016 Living a new life.
