Hi, Reader.

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So, I just found a personal boundary.

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Last week, my back went out.

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(If you watch my Instagram stories, you’ll now know that I *heavily* rely on muscle relaxers.)

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And it went out in a baaaad way. In a, like, “are you sure you’re only 34?” way.

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I bent down to feed the dog do a bunch of impressive gymnastics, from which a back spasm makes total sense.

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And then ...

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A single, menacing, mother fucker of a twinge. Followed by lovely icy spreading from my lower back into my butt and down my right hamstring.

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FUUUUUUCK.

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I’m not new to spasms (hence the at-the-ready muscle relaxers), but this was the MOMMA of spasms. I actually heard her whisper, “get ready to be in pain for the next 96 hours every time you take a breath.” Pretty sure she added on a “bitch” at the end for good measure.

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I couldn’t move. And I know people say they can’t move when really they can. But, I’m being so honest with you right now, I COULD NOT MOVE. I can even prove it to you with this next part.

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The day of the spasm, my partner had to carry me to the toilet each time. We got into a good routine. He drops me off, gives me privacy, comes back in when I'm ready and returns me to my bed cocoon.

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One time was different because I had to ... you know. And when I went to wipe ...

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I panicked.

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I could not wipe myself.

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Oh god.

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I’m going to have to ask him to wipe me.

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I'M GOING TO HAVE TO ASK HIM TO WIPE ME.

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THAT, Reader, is how you know I literally, truly could not move.

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I ALMOST ASKED THE LOVE OF MY LIFE TO WIPE MY 34-YEAR-OLD ASS BECAUSE I MYSELF COULD NOT.

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And that was the boundary I found.

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When I was faced with the concept of asking my life partner to come into the bathroom and wipe my rear end clean, I decided that was not something I was ready for.

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My resistance surprised me, really — because I am lazy. My love language is acts of service, as in … whatever you can do for me that doesn’t require me to get out of this bed or refill my wine glass is love.

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I figured that trait would extend to ass-wiping, but when toilet paper comes to butt, apparently I have more dignity.

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So I made it work (it was painful) and decided once again that some boundaries are good; healthy even. They help us stay more present at home, help us find fulfillment in our work, and keep our partners from becoming our live-in nurses for at least another 20 years.

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While I have newly found boundaries in the hygiene department, I haven’t always had them in my services.

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Spoiler: that’s a bad thing.

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I’ve totally done the client work that creeps into:

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“just one more thing"

"oh, that’s an easy fix"

"yeah, I’ll just pop in and do that this afternoon”

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Scope creep (i.e. no boundaries; i.e. letting your partner wipe your poop ass) is a real thing, and it can harm your time, your profit, and your client relationships.

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One of the best ways to set and HONOR boundaries is on your services page. I’m a HUGE fan of a detailed services page. No need to wait for the discovery call — lay out all of the nitty gritty right then and there.

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✔️ This is what you get.

✔️ This is what you don’t get.

✔️ This is how much additional work will cost.

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You leave no room to assume, be confused, or get away with extras.

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Putting your prices on your website — and being REALLY clear about what those prices get you — repels the clients who always want a discount and attracts the clients who equally value your time.

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You want the latter.

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If you’re finding yourself handling unqualified leads lately or even some confusion around pricing with your current clients, revisit your services page and tune it up. Or get me to do it.​

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Because boundaries are healthy. In the boardroom AND in the bathroom.

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Much love ✌️ Kelsey

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PS At the moment, my services page is alright, but I'm currently putting my ENTIRE website through the paces and redoing the heck out of it (follow along on Instagram). So — pending any more surprise back spams — this services page should be even better this time next week.