Life is beautiful, but let’s be honest, it can feel like a real shit-show sometimes. (Even Buddha acknowledged that.) Amid pandemics, treacherous news headlines and uncertainty of all kinds, good relationships can remind us that although there is suffering, there is also meaning and joy- some kind of purpose to what we’re all f****** doing here. :) Loving one another is part of what makes the difficulty of existence worth enduring.
But what if our relationships don’t provide that kind of comfort and assurance? And instead of being something we can count on, they stir up trouble and end in disaster. Many of us, having grown up in dysfunctional families, never learned healthy ways of relating to ourselves or anyone else. It’s like we were dropped in the middle of nowhere with no compass, a gravely distorted map, zero guidance- and expected to make a fantastic journey of this life with one another. We fumble around in confusion, get completely lost, and somehow manage to recreate the same familiar heartache for ourselves over and over again. Fortunately, the struggles we face can become the impetus to reach for what we’re meant to do and how we’re really meant to love.
My “wild-animal” (as my sister and I called her) mother has become an unexpected inspiration for so much of what has mattered and brought purpose to my life. When she wasn’t out being a respected MD or reading medical journals, she was collapsed on the couch, eyes glued to screaming, hair pulling, Jerry Springer-type Spanish “talk” shows where dysfunctional families went to nearly kill each-other in front of a live, jeering audience. If I somehow activated her ticking time-bomb mind, she’d snarl her demand that I deliver a high-heel to the sofa and receive my beating there where it wouldn’t interfere with her programming. Unsurprisingly, I’ve had a lifelong aversion to television- with the slightly embarrassing exception of reality shows about love. Even as a child, one of the only programs I could tolerate was the ‘80’s hit, “Love Connection.” I held a deep, abiding wish to make sense of why my father would never divorce my mother and free us to live in some kind of peace. I needed to understand this insane experience called “love” that could seriously ruin your life.
At 8, with freckles that merged from never knowing sunscreen and long, uncombed hair, I stood in the kitchen with my ever-Zen father as he peacefully surveyed the refrigerator looking for options of what he could bring my mother to accompany her evening tea that was most likely to please her- while I begged him to leave her. “Please dad, please…. ” Under constant stress with splitting headaches I thought were a brain tumor, ulcers, depression… the hollow dread of having no one to protect me from my mother’s violence, I started to unravel and break. He just laughed good-naturedly and said, “Oh Jen, you just don’t understand her.”
My parent’s love was intense and hard to stomach. Their bizarre emotional fusion had a huge impact on me. From their example, I surmised that relationships are passionate, shamelessly imbalanced, full of intellectual stimulation- and brutal. (And note to self… “If you’re wise, don’t promise to stay with anyone in particular for any length of time- just in case.”) As I moved through life and began observing connections all around me, the contrast between couples was compelling. My best friend’s parents were so polite and dignified with each other it was shocking. “Is this real life? Is this how people are meant to live? Is this how other people are living??” On some level I envied their decorum, but I also got the feeling they just gave no shits. This felt even more dismal than the madness my parents had going on. I knew not one single thing about how healthy “normal” couples might interact, communicate, or experience life together, but over time, I decided I wanted to figure it out.
Here’s what I’ve discovered:
Until we find a way to honor our own experience (while still caring about the other)- and express ourselves honestly and directly, our relationships are never going to work. And when I say “work”, I don’t just mean “last”. We all know people whose relationship endures, but we wouldn’t wish it on anyone. That’s not what we’re after here people. I’m talking about a connection that feels like something we might dream of.
Clients sometimes bring up frustrations about the people in their lives. When I inquire if these clients have shared their feelings and needs directly with the individual in question, almost inevitably the answer is a slowly rendered “…no…” along with palpable discomfort which morphs into an, “I’m no longer present” faraway gaze. (*This process of dissociation is the mind’s way of coping with anything that feels too threatening/overwhelming.) Trust me, I understand the anxiety of open expression. When we’ve come from families that didn’t care how we felt or just weren’t able to show up for us appropriately, we haven’t had a chance to experience how well emotional honesty can work. It makes sense that we cut that process off in environments where it didn’t help us. But we’re not little kids anymore. We have choices now that didn’t exist for us before.
If you are struggling in a relationship currently, you are likely engaging in at least one of these approaches:
1. Making someone else responsible for how you feel (We certainly influence each other, but how we feel ultimately is the product of inner storylines and perspectives- an inside job.)
2. Not letting them know how you’re impacted by what’s happening and what you’d prefer
3. Sticking around after you’ve spoken up about what you need and nothing changes
4. Resenting them
5. Feeling stuck while continuing to do what hasn’t worked in the past
I get it though. When we find a person who lights us up, it can feel daunting to say what we imagine they might not appreciate. We can struggle to determine what’s ok to even ask for because we see partners through the childhood lens of primal need. We tolerate ongoing dissatisfaction, make excuses, and rationalize that what we want must be unreasonable. Yet healthy connections of any kind require clear boundaries and expectations. And while it’s true that in voicing our experience, we take a legitimate risk of losing certain relationships- could it ever be worth sacrificing our Self to keep one going? If we don’t have healthy self-expression, we don’t actually have a relationship at all.
When we recognize our adult imperative to create an enjoyable life for ourselves (and our children if we have them), we understand that whatever we want is reasonable to ask for. That doesn’t mean others will be able or willing to grant our wishes, but it makes sense to give them (and us) a fighting chance, doesn’t it?
Here’s how:
1. Value yourself enough to express what you need. What would a balanced, reciprocal relationship look and feel like to you? Don’t assume anyone else knows what’s inside of you. If you haven’t told them, they don’t.
2. Pay attention to your partner’s response. Do they hear you? Do they care? Or are they defensive, distancing, angry, unreachable...? Don’t take it personally, but notice and care how that feels to you.
3. If needed, make your request even more clear and emphatic. Help them understand why this particular gesture or way of relating means so much to you. Be honest, open, loving and direct. (Resist the urge to beg, pout, judge, demand or deliver silent-treatments. If you want to create something wonderful, contribute your own mature responses. We get what we give.)
4. Pay attention to what they do with this deeper insight. People who love you, are invested in you, and are capable of mutual adult relationships will be grateful to have a chance to understand you, add to your happiness, and keep you satisfied. (Yes really.)
If they aren’t, what compels you to stay? Words are cheap. Behavior is all that conveys a person’s dedication to us or to anything else. And, we don’t have to condemn others for having personal limitations. We all have them. In fact, we’re here to grow specifically from these personal challenges. That’s what makes life interesting, beautifully complex and expansive. We’re individuals, here to construct our own realities. If the dream you have doesn’t match some one else’s, accept that, accept them, and let them go with love. It takes lots of living, growing, and intentional evolving to show up in conscious ways for each other when we’ve not grown up with models for that. Not everyone is there yet. It’s a lifelong process, and some people never choose to begin.
If you decide it’s worth giving up some of what you want in order to keep someone in your life, that’s your prerogative- and can be part of the necessary give-and-take of partnership since none of us is perfect. Just do it consciously. Every friend you have may want you to leave a relationship, but that’s irrelevant. If you haven’t, it’s either because it feels right to you (which is exclusively your business unless you complain about it)- or you just haven’t yet learned and integrated what the experience has been meant to teach you. Start there. If you stay, let go of resentment. If you don’t, it’ll eat you alive. Remember: resentment is something we create when we don’t take care of ourselves and then make someone else responsible for our misery.
My father’s capacity to leave an insane marriage, defend his kids, or even live a normal life for himself were all obliterated by his singular devotion to my mother. That’s fascinating when looked at objectively from this vantage. But at the time, I didn’t know better than to take those circumstances (his co-dependent savior complex, her unresolved-trauma-induced narcissism) personally and to construct a self-limiting identity and avoidant attachment pattern to manage it. That’s all we can do as kids. But, what was once so crushing put me on the path to discover that as adults, we get to decide what we live with- and whether or not it destroys us. Like you, everything that’s happened in my life has guided me to this moment where I can choose to create meaning and substance out of the ashes of what’s been.