Reflecting on being the adult daughter of a narcissistic mother, and trying to break the cycle for my own children.
Showing posts with label relationships. Show all posts
Showing posts with label relationships. Show all posts
that girl is poison
Back a while ago, I started working on an event with a woman (we'll call her H) who had gained a reputation as being something of a controlling bitch. There were other people working on the project, several of whom really disliked working with H, but while I had friends who disliked her, I had had no personal dealings with her, and as such, she didn't push my buttons. I volunteered to handle her when she got really micro-manage-y. It turned out that she and I worked very productively together, and the event was a big success.
I tend to give people the benefit of the doubt. I knew that some other people found H objectionable, and I could see how her personality would rub people the wrong way, but I also saw good things about her. Talents, nice character traits. Strong organizational skills, good business sense, quick sense of humor. When I had a personal crisis, she was one of two people who stepped up to support me. Going into a second year of the same event, I asked her to head it up with me.
In the second year, it went off very well again - on the surface of things. Behind the scenes, it was rough. While our friendship was blossoming in many ways, it was also often hard to be her project partner. H seemed to crave conflict. She nitpicked and alienated our allies, making it very difficult to work with them. She focused exclusively on the financial aspects of the event, dismissing the importance of community and mocking people who disagreed with her. At the end of the planning, she antagonized several people to the point that it was not possible to have any kind of civil discussion with them. Meanwhile, she picked fights with people on her Facebook wall and mine, but when called out on her aggressive behavior, would always claim "she started it first" or say that she was only saying logical things. It was very hard to pinpoint exactly what was wrong with what she said - usually her offence boiled down to her tone, which was often sarcastic and condescending to the other people. Very slippery, very hard to prove, and she was quick to point out what other people were doing that was so bad. She was innocent! They were the jerks!
This was difficult not only for our event planning, but also socially. Several friends voiced their disbelief that I could be friends with her and then distanced themselves from me. (H disliked these people intensely, often saying very ugly things about them, and would tell me that I needed to choose friends of a higher caliber. That higher caliber, of course, would include her.) This hurt. I felt very socially unmoored.
One friend - who is still a friend - remarked that she thought an especially interesting thing about H was that she was so similar to my mother. I should mention that this friend is also a psychotherapist. She wondered if maybe becoming friends with somebody like my mother would prove to be healing. At the time, I thought this was ridiculous. She was nothing like my mother! I mean, maybe the overbearing, always-insisting-she's-right thing, but other than that? Nothing like.
But even as I enjoyed some aspects of our friendship, the rest of it bothered me. How could I be friends with somebody who could be so openly horrible to other people? Why would I be friends with a person who so frequently talks about other people in a disrespectful, mean way?
By the end of the second event year, I couldn't deal with her alienation of people any more, at least from a project-runner standpoint. I made certain that we would not work together for a third year. I feared that she would discover that I asked for the higher-ups to "fire" her. It felt like an act of betrayal. At the same time, I knew I couldn't stay sane AND stay her friend AND work with her. The best I could hope for was two out of three.
I went forward with the event planning on my own, building a great team along the way. As the months passed, I frequently noticed how efficient our meetings were and how everybody enjoyed working with each other. At the same time, I felt more and more bothered by this friendship. Was it even friendship? I was forced to admit to myself that I didn't really like her. I found her to be fun sometimes, but I also felt hounded by her every time my phone's text alert went off. I felt constantly scrutinized by her - once she determined/learned about an area of weakness for me, she brought it back up over and over again, telling me what I should and shouldn't do about it. She knew that I dislike conflict, but instead of respecting that, she acted like it's a character flaw and took every opportunity to stir up conflict in spaces (online or physical) around me or to tell me about conflict she stirred up in her own life. I would frequently receive copies of her email and text exchanges with other people, expecting me to agree that the other person was horrible and she was clearly their moral and intellectual superior. All I saw in those exchanges was that she behaved abominably toward those people, often hurling insults and accusations at them. All this, while defending her actions as "only trying to help" or "just saying what's true."
As time went on, I also thought about how she disrespected emotional and physical boundaries. When she did this in a social setting, people semed uncomfortable, yet unwilling to rock the boat because confronting her would be more uncomfortable. She was always unwilling to accept criticism - everybody else was wrong, never her.
I realized that she could not stand being ignored. Text messages had to be answered immediately. Invitations had to be accepted. Friends had to be available when she wanted them to be available. This was tiring, but it was just as tiring to try to come up with legitimate-sounding excuses for not accepting an invitation or ignoring a phone call. She could smell a vague answer or a social lie a mile away.
All of this, so like my mother. My perceptive friend was very right.
My mom frequently complained about my father - too passive, not intelligent enough, not her equal. H did this, too. She was clear that she thought her husband was a moron, a child. She talked about sex as if it were a chore. I remember hearing that from my mother, too. Of course, when somebody else's marriage was under scrutiny, my mother and H both proclaimed their marriages to be highly superior to all others. H frequently felt sorry for various husbands whose wives she despised. Her child was also better than all others - a perfect, perfect child. More beautiful than all others. Better behaved than all others. Smarter than all others. More talented than all others. I heard an endless litany of her child's perfectly perfect perfectness. All other children's had glaring faults that were repeatedly pointed out, the kids referred to as "little bitches" or "little assholes", the parents' values and parenting skills called into question or outright sneered at. (Her daughter is smart and attractive, but not outrageously so, and her behavior is pretty normal for a kid her age.)
I found myself acting more irresponsibly around her. While my actions are my own actions, it seemed significant that I started drinking more and more and more wine and/or liquor. With that came staying too long at her house or needing to crash there overnight occasionally. I broke plans with my husband. I was too tired to engage with my children. I neglected other friendships. My responsibility, but like I said, significant.
I was so tired. So. Tired. It was exhausting. I didn't want to be her "friend" any more.
One day, I received yet another screenshot of somebody else's Facebook post. I was supposed to sneer at it, deride the other woman. But the woman had done nothing wrong. Furthermore, this woman was my friend. What kind of person would mock my friends to my face and expect me to laugh and join in?
All done.
I let her know that I needed to "take a break." I knew, though, that the break would be permanent, because I knew that with her, there was no in-between. Once we had been that enmeshed, we could not go back to being casual acquaintances. I did it over email, feeling a little guilty that I wasn't doing it face-to-face, but I knew that if I did so, she would bend the truth or get belligerent with me, and that there was really no use in having a conversation. I didn't want a conversation. I wanted to deliver a simple message: I cannot be your friend any more.
Almost immediately, I felt a pervasive sense of relief. It was like the proverbial pain that you don't notice until it stops - you didn't realize how much it hurt until the pain was no longer there. Then, ah, bliss! No pain! I realized that I had been carrying so much tension all day, every day. Friends told me that they thought I hadn't been quite myself, that I seemed to be censoring myself. I realized that I had been, because I knew being myself would bring criticism, and I didn't want to deal with the drama.
She took it about as well as could be expected. She lashed out at my son for "humiliating" her daughter at school (he asked her friends if she had a crush on him, and they told him that she did). Then later she contacted my husband with a list of excuses for her "recent" lack of empathy (there had been no recent change in behavior). Later still she tried to play the hero when my son was injured at school, and boasted about her heroism to anybody who would listen.
I've heard from a mutual friend that she talks shit about me. I don't particularly care. I don't think anybody important to me would ever trust anything she says. The mutual friend also tells me that she herself wants to break up with the mean friend, but isn't sure how.
I have never broken up with a friend before. Total number of relationships in my life that I have shut down this way: two. My mother, and my toxic friend.
When my psychotherapist friend said that she thought this friendship could be very healing for me, I never imagined that it could both be an awful friendship AND a healing one. I stood up to the toxic woman. I exorcised her, and in doing so, validated my choice to cut contact with my similarly-poorly-behaved mother. It showed me that my values are consistent and that it really is painful to put up with somebody who constantly crosses boundaries and slings poison. It reminded me to live in my truth and stick to my ideals, and to value the kind and compassionate people in my life.
By the way, the event that we had previously planned together? I ROCKED it without her. Best event in the history of the organization, both as a social function and as a fundraiser. And no behind-the-scenes drama.
*mic drop*
oh, brother
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| It's on a mousepad! It HAS to be true!! |
So, first, something good: on Saturday, I received a text out of the blue from brother #2. He sent a picture of something funny he saw in a store, knowing that I would enjoy it in the same snarky vein that he did. It led to a long text discussion back and forth, and tentative plans for a visit. It felt especially good following the despair I was feeling on Friday regarding him and brother #1.
Now, the not so good: brother #1 was indeed at the party at the mutual friend's house, and I have a definitive answer to the "is he not speaking to me, or does he think that I'm not speaking to him?" question.
He totally blew me off. Totally. Like I didn't exist.
I knew things wouldn't be good when the first person I saw when we pulled up was SIL, and after she returned my wave, she walked off with a friend of hers, literally turning her back on my family, rather than wait less than a minute to say hi to us. If I had been in her shoes, I absolutely would have waited. I tried to give her the benefit of the doubt, but I'm having trouble thinking of a good reason for her choice. Once in our friends' yard, I heard my brother greet my oldest son, but absolutely no acknowledgement of me or my husband. Whatever. I tried to give the benefit of the doubt. Maybe he thinks I'm not speaking to him and he's not sure what to say. Maybe he is too busy talking to the guy beside him and doesn't see me.
At some point, I awkwardly tried to join my SIL and her friend in their conversation. She was cordial. No, civil. Cordial sounds like smiling would be involved. She was not warm. I last saw her in August, when she and I and our kids got together at a park; she was cordial but not friendly then, I'd say. I badly wanted to ask her about my brother at the park that day, but didn't. We have established in the past that we don't talk about the family drama.
Back to Saturday's party. A friend of mine arrived (huzzah!) and joined our conversation, and then we went inside to get some food, at which time SIL and her friend broke off quickly from me and my friend, and we didn't hang out any more for the rest of the evening.
Meanwhile, my brother was still not registering my presence. I had been thinking over the past day or so about how to say hello to somebody who you strongly suspect is not speaking to you. Especially when he's your brother. I mean, it would be rude to just come out with "are you purposefully ignoring me?" in a party situation. Real buzzkill for other guests. But you can't introduce yourself to your own brother, and at this point we had both been there long enough that it was too late for the "hey, good to see you!" thing you can do upon arrival. So when he passed by me, making zero eye contact (it was like I was a piece of furniture), I gave him a sisterly fist bump to the shoulder and said "hey!" in a cheerful voice.
Nothing. No reaction. at. all. My friend asked who that guy was. My brother. She was a little shocked by what she later called "the snub."
My husband later cornered my brother - literally, waited until he was in a spot in the kitchen that was surrounded on three sides and took up a position on the 4th side, so my brother was trapped into conversation with my husband. My brother avoided eye contact. Tried to pull other people into conversation - those people are apparently not close enough to Bro#1 to save him from somebody he doesn't want to talk to, and they avoided joining the obviously awkward exchange. So Bro#1 was kindof forced to make small talk with my husband, who eventually, when the kitchen emptied out, asked him point-blank if he's not speaking to me. My brother confirmed that he is not, because, as he put it, he is "just fucking DONE."
You're DONE? Fuck you. And the high horse you rode in on. But at least now I have confirmation of what I suspected was going on, and can rest assured that there is no miscommunication here. It's possible that he thinks I'm not speaking to him, but I think my lame attempt to engage him should prove that incorrect.
He avoided us like the plague after that. We left not terribly long afterward. When I hugged the hostess later, while saying my goodbyes, SIL was next to her and I said goodbye and felt weird - I mean, normal people would hug their SIL goodbye, right? So I asked, "can I hug you?" and she said "of course" (ha, there is no "of course" with her) and I hugged her and told her that I miss them.
The end.
This led to some processing, of course, during which I had some moments of clarity and also some moments of added angst. It is important to note that I felt about 70-80% fine during the party, even after being openly snubbed. I enjoyed the gathering. I met new people, had happy conversations...and for an introvert who was being actively shunned right that moment by her brother, that is HUGE. Those numbers are totally scientifically derived, by the way.
The Clarity
- I am SO grateful for people in my life like my friend, with whom I had a tête–à–tête after my husband's intelligence mission. She acted as a compassionate witness, assuring me that what I experienced was indeed a blatant snub, and also reassuring me that no, not everybody has huge happy family fun times at Christmas. She reminded me of some of her family dysfunction and essentially made me feel less alone in the world. Everybody should have friends like this, who know how to make you feel like a normal human being instead of like a broken lonely freak.
- I am also grateful for Brother #2, who knows me well enough to share something with me that we will both find funny, who doesn't agree with my choosing NC with my mom but who still wants a relationship with me, and who, apparently, is not totally embroiled in the "Claire is a Bitch" psychodrama.
- I can now go forward with the knowledge that Brother #1 does indeed hold a grudge. It's not my imagination, it's not crossed wires.
- I need to do some emotional work on how I have previously viewed my relationship with Brother #1. I was closest to him growing up, in part because we are very close in age and had the most experiences in common. He and his wife can both be judgey sometimes (she alienated a mutual friend in not-too-distant history by telling the friend that her house is essentially a temple to consumerism), which put strain on our relationship when our lifestyles were not extremely in sync. When we were all childless and vegetarian, we were friends. When we had kids and they didn't, they got judgey and distant. When they started having kids, it was initially awesome because we make a lot of the same parenting choices, but then it got bad again, in part because I had the audacity to buy a minivan, which, in SIL's words, "represents everything wrong with America". If I'm honest with myself, the best time in our friendship was when I was 17 and he was 15. That's more than 20 years ago.
- I need to put more effort into my relationship with Brother #2. He is a laid-back guy who hates the family conflict stuff, so he is not likely to be the one to maintain our relationship. I have been slack because I was tired of people blaming me and felt like, you know what, if they want to talk to me, let them come to me. Time for me to put more energy into it.
- I'm also having more clarity about what exactly makes a good sibling relationship, and which of my siblings I really enjoy, and why. Ultimately, in order to be friends as well as siblings, we have to have interests in common, compatible personalities, and be willing to talk to each other without namecalling and blaming. It's no coincidence that the two siblings who share my sense of humor and who have a less black-and-white view of the world than Bro#1 are the two to whom I feel closest.
The Angst is a whole 'nother post, I think. But the nutshell version is:
- Do I contact him to try to mend fences? If I do that, am I disrespecting his desire to go NC the way my mom disrespects mine? Would it be ok if the communication was non-shaming and non-blaming and showed a willingness on my part to take responsibility for my actions? But how do I do that when I really don't regret my actions?
- And...the kicker...isn't that pretty much the same situation as I have with my mom? Being treated by him the way that I treat my mom makes me wonder about how those two situations compare and whether or not my decision to NC is an appropriate one. My husband says yes. My gut says "oh please don't go back to her". But is it hypocritical for me to cut somebody out of my life and then think somebody else is wrong for cutting me out of theirs? More on this later.
A few good things came of this. I texted Brother#2 back to thank him for our earlier conversation. I told him the things that I enjoy about him. We chatted very very briefly about the family situation. Later, I thanked my friend for being in my life and told her that I love her. I don't say that to friends often enough. And I also thanked my husband for what he did at the party. It was unasked-for and while it was a little aggressive on his part and I wouldn't exactly call it a nice thing to do, it was helpful. (And my brother can suck it if he didn't like it.)
Our city is having a very warm Christmas, and I've been practicing the mental task of focusing on the good in things rather than focusing on what I wish were happening instead. I wish that we had cold weather, because it's nice for fireside cocoa and feels Christmassy and cozy. But I am focusing instead on how nice it is to go out without a jacket in December. How awesome it was yesterday to open up the doors between my kitchen and back porch and breathe in the fresh, spring-like air while I baked. How my friends from warmer climates are feeling happy and enjoying outdoor meals. I'm going to do the same with my social networks: celebrate what is right rather than mourn what is wrong. There's nothing wrong with mourning, but right at this time, seeking out the bright spots and appreciating them is important. So I'm going to do a lot of that. I'll still write about my brother angst, but I'm keeping light alive inside of me and focusing on the people I love.
Our city is having a very warm Christmas, and I've been practicing the mental task of focusing on the good in things rather than focusing on what I wish were happening instead. I wish that we had cold weather, because it's nice for fireside cocoa and feels Christmassy and cozy. But I am focusing instead on how nice it is to go out without a jacket in December. How awesome it was yesterday to open up the doors between my kitchen and back porch and breathe in the fresh, spring-like air while I baked. How my friends from warmer climates are feeling happy and enjoying outdoor meals. I'm going to do the same with my social networks: celebrate what is right rather than mourn what is wrong. There's nothing wrong with mourning, but right at this time, seeking out the bright spots and appreciating them is important. So I'm going to do a lot of that. I'll still write about my brother angst, but I'm keeping light alive inside of me and focusing on the people I love.
blurred lines
It's never simple.
I miss my family.
No, I miss the idea of family. Or the family that I thought I had. Or the family that we wanted to pretend we were.
I want my mommy. Well, not the one I have. The one I wish she could be.
My brothers are jerks. Well, sortof jerks. And I wish I were closer to them. Why would anybody want to be closer to people who are jerks? I long for the good old days. I'm not sure there ever were any good old days.
My sister is a miracle. She has empathy. She gets it. She sees it all. And yet she fears commitment. She doesn't want children. She worries she would mess them up because she tends toward anxiety and depression and we had no good models for how to handle that shit or how to be a good mother. She doesn't realize that the fact that she even thinks about that at all is exactly what would save her children.
I wonder who my brothers and sisters would be if not for my mother. And my father.
I miss my dad. I love him but I don't tell him that. I don't love my mom. At least, I don't think I do. I don't speak to either of them, but really, I let my dad off the hook because I consider him a victim, too. Or did until he spat ugliness at me that sounded like a script written by her. I let him off because he's weak. She preyed upon him. He depends upon her love. She privately scorns him. I feel sorry for him. He has self-esteem issues. He has mommy issues.
But I don't have any problem with my grandmother, his mother. Who must have been a monster like my mother in order to produce a son so needy. Right? I never saw her that way, though.
Not like I see my mother. I don't love my mother. I don't like my mother. I wish I didn't look like my mother. I feel revulsion toward her for the way she treats people. But isn't she a victim, too? Isn't she the product of genetics and a narcissistic father and a weak mother and bad luck? Is she any more able to control who she is and what she does than my father is? Both are broken people. Each is dependent upon the other to keep afloat. He needs her. She needs him. Why am I willing to absolve the passive parent but not the actively aggressive one? It took both of them to create a dysfunctional family.
Is the enabling parent less harmful? More harmful? Equally harmful? Is there any way to tell?
I wonder if there is an alternate timeline out there, one in which my dad never meets my mom. One in which he falls in love with a less poisonous woman. Would his wounds still have prevented him from finding a healthy mate? Would some lovely young woman from a functional family have found him? Is there another universe in which he marries a woman who helps him to grow and heal and become emotionally whole?
I will never know. I will never know. This is all I was given. This is all I get.
I miss something I do not want. I want something that will never exist. There is no happy ending, only a stalemate. Pick the life that sucks the least.
It is never simple.
this place, this time, this spring
An updatey post that ended up longer than I had originally intended.
In the past week, I had a visit from my sister and also spent a morning with my sister-in-law (wife to brother #1) and her children. The filling in this relative sandwich was the Easter holiday, which I know my extended family (siblings/nieces/nephews/parents) spent together at my parents' house, celebrating with the annual egg hunt and dinner. The difference between my sister and my SIL has never been more dramatic. My sister and I were always close, but she's much younger than I am, so it wasn't really a relationship of equals beforel it was a little-sister-looking-up-to-big-sister thing. During the last few years I've been getting to know her as an adult, and she is seriously a rock, a compassionate witness. She's insightful and articulate in general and about our family in particular. One of these days I must blog about her perspective on the fam. She is the one and only sibling who is able to be accepting and validating to me while simultaneously keeping an open, relatively-drama-free relationship with all of the other members of our family. I have made a point of not discussing my parents with my siblings in recent years, or at least not being the one to bring it up and controlling what I do say even then, but during her overnight visit last week, we just talked and talked and talked, and it was SO cathartic. I think I have needed that for a long time, and it's good to have a fellow daughter of my mother to talk to.
On the other hand, there's my SIL#1. Our relationship is a strange and awkward dance. During some phases of life we seem to have a lot of in common, and be able to talk about lots of important things together, especially parenting-related things (we parent similarly, and our parenting beliefs don't get a lot of support from my parents). During other phases, she's stand-offish or even disapproving of me. She's consistently reserved in how much of herself she lets out, and that's ok, but it makes it hard to really connect. We do. not. talk. about my family, or about my currently-nonexistent relationship with my brother (she only plans things with me at times when he's not around). She has been pretty maddeningly, purposefully neutral ("I can see both sides...both of you are hurting...your mother really loves you...") about my parents, despite their shabby treatment of her in the past. It was very, very strange to know that she and my brother and their kids had just spent the previous day at my parents' house, but for it not to come up in conversation at all. I mean, regardless of my estrangement from my parents, that visit and the holiday in general are what's going on. It's weird to get together with somebody and have them not mention at all what's going on in their life - heck, not to mention the holiday that happened YESTERDAY. It felt like the elephant in the room - or the elephant in the playground, rather.
I don't know what to make of these relationships. I'm so happy to have some closeness with my sister, and yet ever so slightly mistrusting of her. I don't want to get burned, but I'm happy like a puppy about her support of me, and I really crave the sisterly adult relationship that we're forming. I don't know what to do with the relationship with SIL#1, who isn't open with me, whose children are related to my own and are beloved by my own, who can't tell me the day-to-day details of her life because she doesn't want to talk about anything related to my family, and whose husband has avoided me for nearly a year because he thinks I'm a narcissistic bitch.
The bookend to this week of tricky relationships is that I had a first-time appointment with a therapist this morning. My reasons for seeing her are threefold. The first, most important reason is that I live with mild depression and moderate anxiety, for which have been taking medication for almost three years, and I want to continue to develop the ways in which I work with those parts of who I am. The second reason is that my oldest son seems to have inherited his father's and my anxious/depressive tendencies, and as he cruises into pre-adolescence, it's getting harder for him to deal with negative feelings and harder for us to support him. I'm working on finding a therapist for him, and I also want support for myself as a parent who also experiences these tricky personality traits. And thirdly, I'm going into therapy because while I've certainly worked through a TON of my family stuff on my own, it's obvious to me that it's never really going to go away. The sibling relationships are hard. The way my mom pops up from time to time in my life is hard. Trying to figure out what to DO with my childhood memories and feelings is hard. So I need support. For all of this stuff.
I've never had a long-term relationship with a therapist, despite many years of thinking through my family dysfunction. I visited an LCSW three times over my Christmas break when I was in college and engaged, but that was because my mom thought I was crazy. (It did help, but only because it gave me some perspective on who SHE is and how to avoid being drawn into fights with her. In the meantime, she crowed about how the therapist "fixed' me, which, of course, should be credited to her, the genius mother.) My husband had a few visits with a therapist about a year ago, and I went with him to one session. I also have friends who are therapists, and have talked in general about some concepts as they apply to dysfunctional families. But I have not had an actual, ongoing, self-imposed course of therapy. And it's time. I don't have any particular goals, except to have a person who can help me to sort out hard things as they arise. I don't have a particular time frame in mind - this could last months or it could last years.
The woman I met this morning, who was highly recommended to me by my family physician, felt warm and easy to talk to. I liked how she drew all kinds of history out of me, especially since that morning I had been wondering where the hell to start. I'll admit that at times I thought maybe she was a little chatty, and maybe she's sharing too much about herself (should I know anything at all about her family, or that she's related to somebody I know?)...but the thing is, those things don't feel like red flags. They just felt like getting-to-know-you first-session stuff. They feel like the way I *want* to relate to my therapist. I actually don't like it when people are uber-"professional" and never reveal a single iota of personal information about themselves. It feels cold and I can't relate to somebody like that. I absolutely LOVED that her first selection for a homework assignment for me was reading a book that is actually one o my favorites. I told her it's the book that saved my sanity. Good sign that we're on the same page! I also discovered that she's not super-religious, which was a concern for me, because my beliefs fall closer to secular humanism than to the staunch Catholicism with which I was raised or the Baptist school of thought that's very pervasive in my Southern town. I had been worried about the ability of a conservative fundamentalist Christian therapist to put their own beliefs aside in working with me. I'm interested in her other homework - to check out The Book of Awakening and see what I think about it, and to read about dysthymia and see if it clicks with me and my family history more than cyclothymia or depression, which were my previous assumptions about myself. I'm not sure it fits, but I'm willing to explore. So I'm going back in a couple of weeks.
I stopped on the way home and bought The Book of Awakening and also If You Had Controlling Parents, which I stumbled upon. It has good reviews. Has anybody read it?
And that's what's going on in this place, at this time, in this spring. The trees outside are bright green with tiny leaves, the sky has been a beautiful clear blue for several days, and the air is breezy and cool. It feels like good changes are happening.
I stopped on the way home and bought The Book of Awakening and also If You Had Controlling Parents, which I stumbled upon. It has good reviews. Has anybody read it?
And that's what's going on in this place, at this time, in this spring. The trees outside are bright green with tiny leaves, the sky has been a beautiful clear blue for several days, and the air is breezy and cool. It feels like good changes are happening.
obey?
I was just reading part of a website from a former "quiverfull" woman/mother, and this line jumped out at me:
This is true not only in marriage, but in all relationships. Husband-wife, parent-child, friend-to-friend, coworker-to-coworker, boss-coworker, teacher-student, and so forth. I'm glad that this woman is "not quivering" any more, in the large-family sense or in the shaking-in-fear sense.
A relationship in which one party must make all the concessions has nothing to do with love and everything to do with power and control.
This is true not only in marriage, but in all relationships. Husband-wife, parent-child, friend-to-friend, coworker-to-coworker, boss-coworker, teacher-student, and so forth. I'm glad that this woman is "not quivering" any more, in the large-family sense or in the shaking-in-fear sense.
Labels:
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trust your feelings - a letter to a friend & fellow ACON
I remember that my mom spent a lot of emotional energy and time on her relationship with my grandfather. Lots of stress, anger, dissecting her childhood and how he interacted with her in the present. When he came to visit, she would feel ill for a week before his visit and for at least a week afterward. She even developed an ulcer that would flare during that week before/after his visits and eventually she started taking medicine before an during visits to ward off the ulcer. Can you imagine?
In the past couple of years, I realized that she has a similar physical affect on me. No ulcer yet (knock on wood) but I feel consumed with anxiety and depression when I know I have to interact with her, the actual interaction is very uncomfortable, and I spend at least a week afterward with the same intense anxiety, depression, and consuming, obsessive thoughts. It takes a long time to feel back to normal again. So really, one interaction with my mom might affect me for a month! I had been worrying about whether it was wrong or unfair to my children to "take away" their grandmother and grandfather from them, but I wasn't thinking about the impact on them of my being so affected by her. Is it more fair for kids to see their grandmother but have a mother who is emotionally unavailable to them because she's so wrapped up in her own baggage? Does the stress on me affect them? It undoubtedly does, and I know that the stress my mother felt (which was very real, and I feel sympathy for her) had a negative impact on her marriage and children. In our case, my mom is not a great grandparent to my kids - she has unrealistic expectations of how they should interact with her, and seems to value them more as possessions than as individuals. Are my kids really losing much? I don't think so. And in removing ourselves from contact with my mother, my kids benefit, because I am a healthier, more engaged parent when my life is not punctuated by interactions with her.
Did I benefit from knowing my grandfather? I have some happy memories, but was not close to him, and as I got older and understood who he was better, I disliked him and disliked spending time with him but still felt obligated to him. Knowing him helps me to understand my mother, but I would never expect my children to know my grandmother just so they can understand me. Would I give up the happy memories with my grandfather in exchange for a mother who was more tuned-in to her emotional health and able to establish boundaries between herself and her abusive parent? Absolutely.
I also realized at some point that I never enjoyed being near her or talking to her, not even a little, and that my relationship with my father was very shallow and not significantly important to me. And my kids seemed to like them but not really know them or be excited about them.
My point is that I think listening to your body is important. How do you feel, and what affect, if any, does that have on your relationships with your kids and with your husband? How does it impact your work? I have also found it helpful to think about what exactly we gain through each of us having a relationship with my parents, and what we lose. If we don't interact with them, again, what are the gains and losses? For me, part of what we "lost" was the idea of a certain kind of grandkid-grandparent relationship, which wouldn't have been a reality, anyway. Honestly, sometimes it seems like the biggest part of becoming healthy is figuring out which unrealistic hopes I had, and building more realistic expectations!
In my case, the affect on my sanity is sufficient enough and my parents are weak enough grandparents that it's in my kids' best interest for none of us to see them or interact with them in other ways. This might change in the future, but all I can do now is what is right for us in the present. You are the only person who knows what your emotional needs are and what your kids need, and who your mom is, and you will make the choice that is right for you. It doesn't have to look like anybody else's choice.
All you can do is what is right for you and your kids and husband right now. Listen to your body and your intuition! I trust you and you can trust you, too.
When is your mom's visit? I'll be thinking about you.
- Claire
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