ultimatum

ul·ti·ma·tum
ˌəltəˈmādəm/
noun: ultimatum; plural noun: ultimata; plural noun: ultimatums
1. a final demand or statement of terms, the rejection of which will result in retaliation or a breakdown in relation — final offer, final demand, take-it-or-leave-it deal; threat

Recently, I was asked to write some examples for the Huffington Post on a story they were doing on ultimatums.

Oh, that’s an easy one, I thought, I’m the Queen of Ultimatums, but upon reflection I realize I was the Queen-of-Setting-Boundaries, not delivering ultimatums.

Boundaries define your borders. Ultimatums are final. They have lasting consequences.
Big difference.

In my world, communication begins when you cross my imaginary line in the sand. When my boundary is breeched—detente begins.

For example, when my husband is out on a motorcycle without me, he is required, as set by the rules of our marriage and basic common decency, to let me know when he’s off the bike for the day. Even though I’m not a big worrier, that is the moment I can take a deep breath and relax knowing he’s safe and sound, his ass on a bar stool somewhere in the world.
Recently, when I hadn’t heard from him due to a text malfunction—he had some splainin’ to do.

Communication starts when a boundary is crossed.

Ultimatums, on the other hand, are where the talking stops.

Men love that. “I love a good ultimatum”, said NO man—EVER.

Or woman for that matter.

It smells like take-it-or-leave-it. I hate choices like that. Don’t you?

That being said…there was one ultimatum I did level at my husband right after we got engaged and here’s why.
Soon after we met we decided on full disclosure, you know, who had the higher FICO score, how our astrological charts lined up, showing each other old passport photos and admitting that we had each maintained a platonic friendship with a significant other. Once it was out in the open it was no big, hairy, deal and neither of us felt the least bit threatened, but when my husband went to tell his ex of our engagement, he chickened out.
“It was gonna get emotional”, he explained.
“Tough shit” I replied. “And if you care more about hurting her feelings than you do mine—you guys aren’t over each other yet and this engagement is off.”

He immediately picked up the phone, arranged another meeting and told her the next day.

Was that a threat? You bet your ass it was.

…And that concludes today’s essay on the difference between a boundary and an ultimatum.

Carry on,
xox

Ultimatums are rarely a good idea.
In life, in relationships and when dealing with the Universe.
When we are driven to taking this tactic, hands on our hips, lips pursed, loaded with attitude, wearing our bossy pants…we will lose.
And we’ve ALL done it.

Think about it, you have set your terms, made your demands and you are promising some kind of retaliation or an end to communication all together, if you don’t get the answer you desire.
First of all, that’s called emotional extortion, that’s a topic for another day.
Still, it seems like you have all the power… butcha don’t….Not really.

The final outcome lies in the hands of the receiver of the ultimatum.
It’s his call, he could end it all. Because YOU said so.

You know what the Universe says to an ultimatum?
“You’re not the boss of me”.

You know how I know that? Because it told me so.

Recently; like yesterday, I was giving the Universe my latest, in the long line of ultimatums I’ve been issuing, and that “voice” chimed in:
Me: So, here’s the deal, you’ve gotta do “this thing” or I can’t make all this other stuff happen.
Uni: Don’t give me an ultimatum, you’re not the boss of me, give me choices.
Me: What do you mean, choices?
Uni: Give me your three most preferable choices, in descending order, from best to worst. I’ll take it from there.
Me: Why would I do that?
Uni: To maintain your flexibility. It also allows us to throw you a curve ball. Something amazing, that’s completely unexpected.
Me: But I really, strongly, feel that it has to go down my way.
Uni: You are acting stubborn and misguided.
Me: Don’t sugarcoat it, tell me how you really feel…Shit…okay.

After that, I did come up with three scenarios that would work in that situation.
Funny, earlier I was convinced there was only one. So, I shot off a mental memo to the Universe, and sat back feeling relieved.
I wasn’t nervously waiting for the shoe to drop. Now I knew it could go any number of ways and that would be fine.
I DID feel more flexibility around my expectations.
I’m Gumby dammit!

Now I’ve got to go borrow a baseball mitt, gotta be ready for my curveball.
How about you?

XoxJanet