Why “How Could You Do This to Me?” Is the Wrong Question to Ask

how could you

I was a playlist on repeat.

“How could he do this to me?” I wailed to my dad as he made sure I was restrained by the seatbelt before racing off to the airport to escort me to the ruins of my once-placid life.

“How could he do this to me?” I cried to my mom, recalling how she always stated she found comfort in knowing that my husband looked after me.

“How could you do this me?” I whimpered on my husband’s voicemail as he continued to avoid my calls. I screamed it into the phone hours later.

“How could you do this me?” I carved into my journal imagining I was carving into his flesh instead.

“How could you do this to me?” I keened silently from the cold courtroom chair as I scanned his face for any sign of the man I had loved.

It seemed like the most pressing question. Holding an elusive answer just out of reach that, once found, would make sense of the senseless pain. I struggled to comprehend how someone that had only recently professed his love could instead act with such apparent malice.

The question consumed me. Engulfed me. Propelled me.

But all along, it was the wrong question to ask.

—–

It’s a normal question. We personalize. Internalize. When we’re feeling the impact of somebody’s actions, we can’t unfeel them. And those emotions are struggling to understand as our expectations are rudely slammed into an undesired reality.

It’s also a pointless question. One that rarely gets answered and even more infrequently, answered with any truth and clarity.

Because the reality is that the person didn’t act with the intention of doing this to you. Instead, they acted for them.

And you just happened to be in their way.

 

Here are the questions to ask instead:

What did they have to gain by doing this? What discomfort did they seek to avoid?

I was actually relieved when I discovered that my husband had committed bigamy. It was the first moment when I realized that his actions said way more about him than about me. It gave me a glimpse into his hidden world, where he was trying to escape the shame of a failed business and was trying to create a fictitious world where he was successful. Yes, he lied to me. But he lied more to avoid facing the truth himself. I was able to see his actions from his perspective, each choice either serving to bring him enjoyment or to offer him relief.

People act to move towards pleasure or, even more frequently, to move away from pain. Take yourself out of the picture for a moment. What did they have to gain from their actions? How did their choices help them avoid discomfort?

Yes, it’s selfish to act for your own benefit without considering others. And being selfish may be their character flaw. But selfish is a sign that they acted without regard for you not that they sought to do this to you.

Understanding their motivations goes a long way towards releasing the anger. It doesn’t excuse their choices. But it does help to unravel them and in turn, release you.

Why did I not notice? Why did I allow this?

Disorienting is an understatement. I stood in the property impound room beneath the police station as the policeman pulled out my husband’s everyday workbag. Inside, there was a wallet I had never seen filled with cards that were foreign. A camera soon followed, a duplicate of the one he had in his other life. The entire bag was a mix of the achingly familiar and the shockingly new.

I was confronted with the reality that my husband had been living a duplicitous life for years. Maybe even ALL of our years. And I had been clueless.

His actions were his problem. My ignorance was mine.

If you were decieved and manipulated, dig into the reasons that you were blind to reality. Like me, were you too afraid to face the truth and so you didn’t look too closely? Or were you pretending that all was okay and distracting yourself to maintain the illusion?

If you knew that you were being treated badly, why did you tolerate it? Had you been taught in childhood that you were lucky to receive any attention, even if it was negative? Were you afraid of being alone, opting for the devil you know?

These are big questions and ones often rooted in childhood or in trauma.It’s worth spending time here (maybe with the help of a counselor), especially if you want to avoid a repeat.

What am I feeling now? Is it all directly related or is some of it associated with past trauma being triggered?

I was on a mission. Needing information, I ran background reports. I combed through scraps of paper and old pay stubs looking for any relevant information. Driven, I triangulated his whereabouts using our checking account and used Google Earth to get a street view of his other wife’s home. I had one goal – to see him face the legal consequences for his actions.

It was all ultimately a distraction. If I focused on the detective work and the state of the pending legal action, I didn’t have to focus on me. On my pain. And on what I was going to do about it.

Are you focusing in the wrong direction? Maybe you’re busy attacking the other woman instead of looking at your marriage. Perhaps you’re busy going on the offensive for your day in court so that you don’t have to look within your own courtyard.

Be with your feelings. All of them. Even the ugly ones. Listen to them and then you can send them on their way.

Once I invited my feelings in, I was surprised to realize how much of my pain was only tangentially related to my husband’s disappearance. And how much was related to my own father’s perceived disappearance many years before.

It was an opportunity. A crossroads.

I could either ignore this triggered response only to have it return later.

Or I could address it. And work to understand how it impacted my adult choices and behaviors.

Stuff was done to you. What you do with it is up to you.

How will this impact me going forward? What do I need to do to move on?

“I need to find a way to make some good come from this,” I stated in a moment of profound clarity on the day I received the text that ended my life as I knew it. I had no idea how I was going to make that happen, but I knew on some level that creating something positive was going to be my key to survival. To thriving.

I had no idea just how hard that road was going to be. That even seven years on, I would still struggle to differentiate between true threats and echoes of the past. I have had to become an expert on my own healing, learning my triggers and becoming a master at disarming them.

Become a specialist in you. Explore your trouble spots and experiment with ways to strengthen them until you find what works. Be attentive to you. Be proactive. And most of all, be determined.

This is a defining moment in your life. You decide what it defines.

How can I avoid being in this position again? What are my lessons I need to learn?

A part of me – a BIG part of me – was surprised to see my fairly new boyfriend at the airport to pick me up. I had assumed that since my husband deemed it suitable to abandon me while I was visiting family, a recent beau would certainly follow suit.

I was operating from a place where abandonment was presumed. And if that mindset persisted, so would the discarding.

Instead of focusing on what happened, shift your attentions to what you can learn from what happened. They’re hard lessons, I know. The most important lessons always are.

Your power comes from choosing how you respond. And every bad moment is an opportunity to learn to respond a little better.

How can I turn this into a gift?

When I look at my life now, I am profoundly grateful for what happened years ago. I’m thankful for the shock. For the pain. For the confusion. And even for the anger. Because all of that has led to a much better place – a much happier place – than I could have ever imagined.

This is a hard question. Perhaps the hardest.

It seems impossible when you’re choking on the pain that it can actually help you learn to breathe. But it can.

Be patient. And be persistent.

Because finding the gifts hidden beneath is the best gift you can give yourself.

So that one day, instead of saying, “How could you do this to me?” you can say –

Thank you for doing this to me.

And mean it.

 

On the Importance of Being There

If I was a giraffe, I’d be dead.

I guess it’s a good thing I’m not a giraffe.

I actually used to be scared of the protracted-neck beasts.

All because of my 8th grade gifted social studies teacher.

I was confident walking into his class that first day. I was a good student and social studies had always been pretty straight forward. I lost that confidence within the first few minutes when he explained to us that his goal was to teach us that we weren’t as smart as we thought we were.

He was tough. He was sarcastic. And sometimes he was cruel (I’m not sure the devil’s horns and tail on test days were really necessary). But he reached his goal and as a result, all of learned the value of struggle.

With some scars to show for it.

For me, one of those scars was a particular aversion towards giraffes because of this teacher’s strange resemblance with his orange – hued frizzy hair that had a tendency to approximate small horns and a long, lanky build.

And then I learned about some of the strange traits giraffes possess. Specifically the importance of a series of super-strong valves in the their neck in order to prevent a fatal stroke when they lean down to grab a drink of water from the large volume of blood found in their necks. I mean that is some crazy weird evolution going on there.

And if I was a giraffe, I’d be dead. Because the valves in legs are anything-but-strong. And over the last two days, I’ve had the offending vessels in my thighs lasered into oblivion.

The doctor (and I) insisted that I would be fine driving myself home after the procedures.

My husband insisted that he meet me for the appointments and drive me home because, “You’re my wife, I have to be there for you.”

As though it’s a given that a husband will always be there for his wife.

Being there when your spouse needs you is so important. And being there when your presence isn’t absolutely required but appreciated may even be more important.

While needles and lasers were being fed through my legs, all I could think about was how grateful I was that my husband took a break from his schedule to be there for me. And that I live in a time where medical technology can hopefully help me.

And that I wasn’t born a giraffe:)

Here’s to being there, learning through struggle and discarding irrational fears!

 

 

The Value of Taking a Rebuilding Year

I am a Braves fan.

It’s a tough year to be a Braves fan.

The manager has been fired. The players have been traded. And traded again. And the overall team is green. Showing potential, but held down by inexperience.

And all of that is intentional.

A couple years ago, the team was strong, but aging. Several key players retired or moved on. With a new stadium on the horizon in 2017, those in charge elected to invest in young players with promise with the intention of spending a couple years rebuilding the team into something hopefully even better.

The fans get it.

They know that it’s a period of trial and error to capitalize on what works and discard what doesn’t. They accept that there will be some flexibility of identity as the team works to find its cohesion and purpose again. They are understanding about the mistakes and patient with the learning curve.

And most importantly, the fans focus on celebrating the victories rather than cursing the losses while trusting in the process and believing that greatness is around the corner.

There’s a freedom that comes with a rebuilding year. Opportunity to explore without fear of disrupting the status quo. There may not yet be victories, but the early seeds of success are growing just beneath the surface.

Teams aren’t the only ones that sometimes need to take a rebuilding year.

Sometimes life throws us curveballs that wipe out all of our experience. That leave us green and uncertain as the defeats pile up and threaten to bury any hope of success.

It’s easy to compare that new state with the former one and grow frustrated at the perceived decline.

But what if, instead of seeing it as a demotion, you embraced it as an opportunity to learn? To try on and adapt? To discard expectations and use small victories as motivation? To be gentle with yourself about the outcomes but firm with yourself about the importance of always trying again?

It’s not the beginning of the end.

It’s the beginning of the beginning.

Your very own rebuilding year.

What can you do now to help make your next season a winning one?

 

Related: Starting Over

 

Anger Isn’t the Only Emotion to be Managed: 9 Ways to Tame Your Feelings

manage emotions

When I was a kid, I used to have tantrums.

And not just any tantrums.

The on the ground, store-clearing, face-purpling variety.

And I had them a bit longer than was considered to be developmentally appropriate.

Sorry, mom and dad.

I can still remember the feeling. It was like a bucket of fizzy emotion had just been poured into a shot glass, overwhelming me with its intensity and confusion and frustrating me with my inability to make sense of what I was feeling and to communicate it to others.

And it was the latter that prompted the tantrums, that external display of anger that actually came from anger at myself and my struggle to reign in my other emotions.

If I had still been engaging in these external displays of excess emotion once I reached school age, I would have been referred for anger management classes.

When really what I could have used was emotion management classes.

But for some reason, anger seems to be the only emotion we feel has to be managed.

When the reality is that part of being a healthy, functioning adult is managing your emotions. ALL of them.


I went from that over-emotional mess of a kid to a much more controlled young adult. In fact, my mom even accused me on occasion of not feeling. But that wasn’t the case. After experiencing the potentially overwhelming nature of emotions, I was afraid to give them the floor. So as much as possible, I turned the analytical brain on and shut the emotional one off. Or at least turned the dial down low and ran them through a rational filter, which seemed to serve me fine.

And then the divorce happened.

And my analytical side went on the fritz and once again I had the sensation I was drowning in emotions.

I thought about throwing myself on the floor of my classroom and crying until my shrieks ran my students out of the room and my tears dried me out.

But I realized that I still needed my paycheck. And besides, I really didn’t want my face on a middle school carpet. Yuck!

My first step towards emotional management was basic; I divided areas in my life into two categories – safe to cry and keep those tears in, lady!

And for the most part, I succeeded. As long as you didn’t look too closely at the sweat pouring down my face while I was on the treadmill:)

But that wasn’t enough. I was dealing with emotions on a grand scale and I even if I wanted to wrangle them back in, they were flat-out refusing. The following are the nine  ways I learned to manage my emotions while sill acknowledging my emotions.

1 – Set boundaries.

Much like I did with my refusal to cry at work, create some hard lines in the sand where you are going to keep it together. Your brain is trainable; teach it when to think and when to feel. And don’t fall into the trap I did for a while – you can’t set your entire life as a “don’t feel” zone! You need some times and places where you feel safe crying and some times and places where you feel safe that you won’t cry.

 

2 – Be aware of triggers and do what you can to mitigate them.

Know thyself. Pat attention to your patterns. If you understand the antecedent, you will be better prepared for the reaction. Taken a step further, you may find that it’s easier to get a handle on things before your emotions spill over than after.

Are you irritable because you feel stifled? Get out and move. Are you feeling brittle and overwhelmed? You probably need sleep or, at the very least, rest. Do you find that you’re more prone to emotional wash-outs when hormones are peaking? Learn to ride easy at that time. Do certain calendar dates hold sway over you? Give yourself permission to grieve on that day and schedule a smile for the following.

 

3 – Breathe through the emotions.

The first thing our bodies do when we’re flooded with emotion is to stop breathing. The instinct when we’re trying to hold in all together is to hold it all in, including the breath. It’s a strange adaptation, like the body is summoning its reserves to attempt some great feat or is grasping onto its last breath out of fear that it will indeed be the last.

Learn to breathe deeply and slowly while you’re feeling the emotions. It’s a sign to your brain that emotion is nothing to fear, you don’t have to fight it or flee from it. Breathe it out and ride it out.

And while your at it, express some gratitude too. It’s pretty powerful stuff.

 

4 – Acknowledge emotions and name them without judgment.

With some of the autistic kids I’ve worked with, the teachers used an emotion board, a study page with simple illustrated faces displaying a variety of emotions. Those kids didn’t have the language to describe how they were feeling, so they were taught to simply point at the image that captured their emotions.

emoticons-154050_1280

I know I have a tendency to get too complex when I try to pinpoint my own emotions. I explain certain things away, outright dismiss others and try to make connections and interpretations. And then I stop and think of those kids and the elegance of selecting one image.

It’s amazing the power that naming an emotion can have. By acknowledging, “I feel sad right now,” it provides a sense of awareness and control over the feelings. Keep it simple, pick one emoticon: happy sad, scared, frustrated, angry, anxious, tired, surprised, disgusted. Keep the statement neutral. You’re human; it’s okay to feel any of those things. And saying that you shouldn’t won’t make you not.

And note the “right now.” Those two words are important. They concede that you feel that way now, yet allow that you may feel differently later.

 

5 – Release excess emotion without indulging it.

I remember when the advice was to treat anger by screaming into a pillow or attempt to beat a punching bag into submission. Yet research disagrees with that approach. It seems as though when you scream or hit when angry, your brain then solidifies that connection, leaving you more prone to screaming or hitting when you’re angry.

I would suspect a similar mechanism is at play with the negative effect journaling has been found to have in some cases – if you’re feeling low and all you write about is your sadness, it’s indulging it, not managing it. Which is why I frequently recommend this journal strategy.

Some people release emotions through writing. Others, running. Some may knit. Some may sleep. And some may whip up a feast. Know your own soothers and have them ready.

And try to keep from indulging your excess emotion. It’s just feeding the beast and upping your drama set point.

 

6 – Be aware of the impact your emotion may have on others.

What you feel, you project, even if you never part your lips. And what you project will impact how others respond to you. Be aware of the impact your feelings have on those around you. Try to understand the cause and effect and if you don’t like the response, aim to change the call.

You may need to apologize for your actions, but never apologize for the way you feel. It’s appropriate to express regret for snapping at someone. It’s not okay to make it sound as though you’re not allowed to be irritated.

Above all, strive to be kind.  After all, we’re all in this thing called life together.

 

7 – Accept responsibility for your emotions.

“You made me feel that way!” Ever said that? Yeah, me too. But it’s not accurate.

Here’s a powerful idea – what is one identifying trait of an abuser? They lay the blame for their actions at the feet of their victim, “You made me hit you.” We know that’s not true. It’s a shifting of focus and a way to escape responsibility. So why is this any different?

Others are responsible for their words and their actions. You are responsible for your response, either emotional or actual. Yes, people will do some sh*tty things sometimes. And you have every right to be angry. You’re angry because your boundaries were crossed. Or your sense of fairness violated. Own your anger. When you try to make the other person responsible, you’re allowing your anger to own you.

 

8 – Listen to your emotions, but don’t believe everything they have to say.

Think of  an unruly toddler. When they scream, “I hate you!”, do you listen? Or do you recognize that they missed their nap and they’re overtired? And what are toddlers but walking, talking squishy balls of emotion?

We evolved as emotional beings for a reason; we are social creatures and depend upon connection to thrive. Emotions serve to bring us together and also to protect us from threats inside and outside the group.

And our emotions are smart. There’s a reason that we feel uneasy about certain situations before our thinking brain has had a chance to process any danger. When we ignore our emotions, we do so at our own peril.

Yet, if we listen to everything they say, we’re blindly following an uneducated leader. Just think about your body’s response at the top of a roller coaster. Your fear says, “I’m gonna die!” while, if you like a rush of adrenaline, your cognitive brain looks forward to the fun.

 

9 – Be compassionate towards yourself and kick your butt if you need it.

For a recent “get to know you” activity for my new school, we were asked to stand up in front of the group and reveal two truths and one lie about ourselves. The group was then supposed to call us out on our lie. I volunteered to go first and in my best loud and bubbly teacher voice, announced

I’m an extrovert.

I’m scared of going downhill.

I went skydiving last summer and I’m excited to go again in a few weeks.

All of those that knew me responded, “You’re not an extrovert!” While the strangers all assumed that somebody afraid of a hill would never voluntarily jump out of a plane, so one of those must be false. When the reality is that I refuse to let my fears (or any other emotions) limit me.

When I go skiing, I know that it’s harder for me than the others. So I congratulate myself for facing my fear instead of comparing myself to those that don’t share that anxiety.

There’s a balance between accepting where you are and always pushing yourself to be better. Basically, give yourself a hug and kick your own butt at the same time. And please post a video – I’d love to see that! 🙂

Emotions are feral and often require domestication to play nicely. Don’t ignore them and also don’t be afraid to tame them. With the right work, they make great companions.

And if you feel like you’re constantly drowning in emotion, get help. There’s no shame in it. 

Five Empowering Ways to Recover From Gaslighting

recover gaslighting

I’ve written about why gaslighting is the worst. Here’s just a snippet:

It’s horrifying when you realize that the person you love, you trust, has been slowly and intentionally lying and manipulating you. It’s like that nightmare you had when you were 5 where Santa Claus suddenly turned into a monster. Only this monster is real and you shared a bed with them

Of course, if you’ve lived it, you already know that.

So here are five things that you can do now to help you recover and to allow YOUR light to shine bright again!