Love Is Holding

Posted on by stilllearning2b

Always good to remember…

We push people away because we are afraid of letting them in and being hurt when they leave.

We grasp on to people that are not good for us because we are afraid of being alone and someone is better than no one.

Pushing and pulling are fear, not love.

Love is holding.

Loosely enough so that each person has the freedom to grow and change.

And firmly enough so that each person knows they are supported.

It is trusting the other person enough that they want to stay even if they have the ability to leave.

And trusting yourself that you will be okay if they do.

Love Doesn't End

The Perils of Magical Thinking

Posted on by stilllearning2b

My mom recently attended a conference on emotional manipulators that addressed how to recognize them and how to help their victims recover. Knowing that the topic hit close to home for me, she shared some of the conference literature. As with everything I read about pathological characteristics, some of the points fit my ex like a glove whereas other descriptions fit him as well as two-year-old’s shoe.

But there was one section in particular that resonated, igniting understanding in the dark recesses of my mind – the role of magical thinking in emotional manipulators and in their partners.

I immediately identified several shamanistic thoughts that we both possessed in the latter years of the marriage. I only learned of his magical thoughts in the texts and email he exchanged with my mother after he left. I only became aware of my own thoughts after I obtained some distance and perspective from the end of the marriage.

Because that’s the thing about magical thinking – you don’t realize it’s an illusion until you’ve left the theater.

His Magical Thinking

I’ll Pay It Off

Although he never shed light on what caused the financial problems, he did reveal what his thoughts were about it over the years. Even as the debts continued to grow, he remained convinced that a bonus or a raise or some other financial windfall was just around the corner. And that if he only waited patiently enough, he would be able to pay it all off without my ever learning of the debt. Perhaps this was a rational thought in the beginning. But by the end? It would have required a winning lottery ticket.

This Is the Last Time

Accompanying the thought that a single check would put us back in the black was his belief that he had control of his behavior and that each time would be the last. He only admitted to this thought in regards to spending, but I would wager that it extended to his drinking, his affairs and possibly even the numerous lies and deceptions. This conviction that he could stop at any time (along with the evidence to the contrary) put him on a runaway train towards self-destruction.

The Impact Is Limited

His magical thoughts completely insulated him from the impact of his actions. He typed that I would “bounce back” in the letter he used to exit stage left. He announced in an email to my mom that he hoped she could meet his new wife and that she would just love his new bride. He seemed unaware of the fact that leaving me with no funds left me with no ability to care for our dogs. In his thoughts, he was throwing feathers rather than stones, leaving no ripples.

 

My Magical Thinking

I Can’t Live Without Him

He came into my life at a time when I felt alone. My relationship with my father, who lived across the country, was strained. I had lost a few friends to death and others to teenage transitions. He stepped in and propped me up in those moments when I wasn’t able to do it alone. At least I thought I couldn’t do it alone. And as the years went by and our connection grew, I could not imagine life without him.

There Is Safety in Years

I believed that because I knew his high school friends, stood by as he put on his last few inches of height and layered pounds on his scrawny boy-body and explored his childhood mementos with his mother, that I knew him. That there was no part of his personality or character that I was unaware of. I saw the years as a type of insurance. As though years in the past guaranteed years in the future.

If I Give Everything, I Will Not Be Left

This is another one anchored in childhood. I developed a fear of abandonment and somehow nurtured the thinking that if I gave everything, was the “perfect” wife, that I was safe from being discarded. As a result, I avoided conflict and refrained from pushing too hard or questioning too much. I gave, often not out of love, but out of fear. And martyrdom isn’t good for anybody involved.

Magical thinking is a form of self deception, stories we tell ourselves to avoid truths we would rather avoid and to create a sense of control in a life rife with insecurity. And once you understand that it is illusion, you can start see the mirrors unclouded by the smoke.

The Role of the Environment

Posted on by stilllearning2b

They were everywhere.

Their tawny heads bobbing in the breeze atop three-foot high slender stalks anchored in grassy skirts. The common daylily is certainly common in Madison, Wisconsin, found in almost every landscape. And I was shocked to see them in such numbers. Because, in Atlanta, they are much more of a rarity.

Not because they struggle with the conditions.

But because they grow too well.

The common daylily (often called “ditchlily” in the south) thrives in the heat and humidity. Spreading on its own volition, it can be found in great swaths across neglected fields and breathing through the exhaust along the highways. It’s rarely found in cultivated landscapes because it does not play well with others. It seeks to dominate, becoming a monoculture if not held in check by sturdy borders or isolated by an elevated bed.

START NOW

In the short summers of Madison, the lily is much more polite. I saw endless evidence of common daylilies coexisting pleasantly with less vigorous companions. The conditions of the cooler climate hold the plants in check and fail to nurture the bullying behavior that is so evident in the south.

Same plant. Two completely different presentations in two different environments.

And, in many ways, we are just like the daylily. Some environments nurture our negative qualities whereas others cultivate our beauty and suppress our harmful drives.

But unlike the daylily, we are not anchored into the ground. We have the ability to choose our environment.

We have two friends that were in a relationship together for a few years. They loved each other deeply, yet together they created a toxic brew of negativity and drama. Eventually, the roots were pulled up and each found a new companion. And the same people, now immersed in a different environment, have none of the previous damaging behaviors.

It’s not always easy for them – they see the way their ex is now and wonder why he/she couldn’t be that way for them. They are different because their surroundings are different. That’s it. No nefarious plot or devious withholdings. It’s not something to take personally.

We all hold the potential to be noxious weeds or beautiful flowers. And it’s up to us to ensure that our environment nurtures the qualities we wish to multiply. And to understand that sometimes people in our lives require a different environment themselves in order to thrive.

I guess our parents were right – it really is important to choose your friends wisely.

I neglected to capture any photos of the ubiquitous daylilies, but here's an amazing view of downtown Madison from Lake Menona:)
I neglected to capture any photos of the ubiquitous daylilies, but here’s an amazing view of downtown Madison from Lake Menona:)

If Divorce Came With a Warning Label

Posted on by stilllearning2b

Divorce FactsDivorce Facts2

START NOW

The Danger Of Holding On

Posted on by stilllearning2b
holding on

One of my guilty (okay, so I don’t really feel guilty about it but it seems like I should) summer pleasures is catching a few minutes of television during the day. Last week, I saw the last few segments of the show, My 600-Pound Life. In this episode, a super-morbidly obese woman was in the hospital and being considered for bariatric surgery. The surgeon was reticent, both because of the patient’s extreme size and her refusal to attempt to walk.

It was the latter issue that grabbed my attention.

There were several scenes shown that all followed the same pattern:

“You need to walk. It’s critical for your health and recovery.”

“I can’t walk. I just can’t do it. I’m not feeling well.”

“What’s wrong?”

“I just don’t feel well.”

“I’m going to get some people here to help you get up.”

After the nurses or EMTs were summoned, they would surround her and using the sheet, would prop her into a sitting position and then slowly slide her legs off the bed until her feet were on the floor.

“I can’t! I can’t! Get me back up!” she cried at every attempt, even before her weight was fully on her feet.

Over the many months that these scenes span, you see her health decline as the frustration of her son and her doctor continue to rise.

Meanwhile, the featured woman is holding on to her conviction that she cannot walk, holding on to the weight encasing and imprisoning her and holding on to her identity as helpless.

START NOW

Just down the street from me, a new sign appeared last week advertising a soon-to-be-constructed storage facility. Although I should know better, I was shocked to see one in my area, which is mainly populated with large (and in the cases of the neighborhoods built in the last 15 years, huge) homes, most of which have basements because of the topography. There are few apartments and not many military personal, since it is not located near any of the bases.

In other words, there should not be much of a need for additional storage. But apparently, there is. The storage company’s research must have indicated that these families living in 2,500+ square foot homes need even more space to hold their belongings.

And I wonder how many of those storage units end up like my ex-in-law’s – rarely opened, never inventoried and filled with ever-decaying detritus even as they write a monthly check so that they can hold on to their belongings. Paying rent simply to avoid letting go.

I’m reading a book right now that features a woman who struggles with infertility. My heart ached for her as her hopes and grief grew with each successive miscarriage. I was elated when one pregnancy finally resulted in a healthy baby. Now, I thought, she has what she wants and get busy loving her child and reconnecting with her husband.

But at least so far, it’s not that simple. The woman has trouble appreciating what she has because of all that she has lost. Her attention and energy is devoted to the babies that didn’t make it rather than the one who did. And her grasp on the past is pushing away those who occupy her present.

There is always a cost for holding on.

The choice to keep one thing – an object, a belief, an emotion – always comes at the expense of something else.

It’s scary to let go.

We fear the loss more than we anticipate the freedom of space.

We surround our choice with justifications, clouding our judgement and defending our decision.

We identify with our collections, worrying that by paring them done, we somehow cut off a bit of ourselves.

But there is always a cost for holding on.

Grasping one thing means forgoing another.

It’s scary to let go. But sometimes that opens us up to reach for something better.

The woman in the show finally let go of her belief that she couldn’t walk. And those first few steps, supported by a walker and several attendants, were magical to watch. Her face filled not only with a smile, but with hope and confidence. She released the anchor and set sail on a new life.