Divorce Leaves a Residue

Posted on by stilllearning2b

My ex husband’s parents were smokers. Entering their house always felt like walking into a parking garage on a warm and still day, the smoke forming clouds along the ceiling and tendriled wisps climbing the walls. The rooms felt dark as the haze filtered the sunlight and the once-white ceilings felt oppressive with their tar-stained varnish.

My ex used to seal his room from the smoke, employing towels and blankets in an effort to barricade his belongings against the nicotine attack. And, while he was there, we thought it was a successful endeavor. After all, compared to the rest of the house, his room smelled clean and his furniture looked unadulterated.

Until it came time to move. We pulled his sofa, that we had intended to use in our first apartment, into the garage. Hopeful, we peeled off the sheet that had been covering the fabric. We were horrified. Not only did the couch smell like the upholstery in a pool hall, the exposed surfaces were stained brown in contrast with the untanned underbellies of the cushions.

And no matter how hard we scrubbed, the stains and the smell would not fully release. There was a residue left behind.

We left that tarnished sofa behind that day and spent money we didn’t have on an unsullied replica from Montgomery Ward, determined to start our lives together fresh unburdened from the remains of the past.

In a moment of unedited honesty the other day, Brock turned to me and said, “Sometimes I wish you would give up writing about all of this and it wouldn’t be a part of your life anymore.”

And sometimes I wish that too.

That I could have escaped from the past with no residue, as clean and unspoiled as that new sofa. Because the truth is that divorce leaves a residue. A film that no matter how hard you scrub, you can never fully remove. It’s not something that disappears just because you take yourself out of the environment. It resists fading and clings tenaciously to every roughed-over surface.

You can try to cover the damage, hiding it beneath a slipcover of smiling perfection. You can scrub at it until your hands are raw and your the very fabric of your being becomes worn and thin. You can perceive the disfigurement as terminal, and live your life as an abandoned piece of furniture cast off in an unheated garage.

Or, you can see the stains as battle scars. Signs of a life once lived and a love once loved. You can learn how to find peace with the residue, viewing it as the reminder of your past while weaving into the fabric of your future.

Divorce leaves a residue.

And what you do with it is up to you.

Opinion

Posted on by stilllearning2b

I realized something last night.

Brock asked for my opinion. It was about something where I have no expertise and that ultimately comes down to his personal decision.

But he still asked for and valued my opinion.

He does this frequently. In fact, often enough that I sometimes get annoyed.

“Why do you want to know what I think? It’s your decision. It comes down to what you want.”

But last night, I realized something.

That him asking for my opinion (even and maybe especially in areas where I have no particular insight) is a sign of respect. Of openness. Of equality.

And the reason that I get annoyed is that I’m not used to that from my husband. At least not the first one.

There were decisions we made together – options that impacted us both. And then there were decisions he made on his own. And he never wanted my input on those one way or another.

I was used to that independent streak, especially because I carry quite a strong one myself. When we weren’t involved in a joint venture (which was often, including the weekly grocery trip), we were usually operating solo.

So that means when I hear, “Lisa, can you come give me your opinion on something?” when I’m in the middle of my own project, I can get a little irritated at the interruption.

Until last night’s realization.

He’s not asking me because he really needs my input; he’s perfectly capable of making decisions on his own (and often better than I am in the midst of a crisis).

He’s not interrupting me because he either doesn’t value my current project or with any intention of annoying (not even remotely part of his character).

He’s asking for my opinion because he cares about my opinion. Even when it’s about something that is his own decision to make.

And that’s worth an interruption any day.

On a related note, I called my mom for her opinion about a project I am working on. She was thrilled:)

The Two Words You Should Never Say

Posted on by stilllearning2b

We often utter these two words under the guise of empathy and compassion.

We say them almost automatically when something said triggers a memory in ourselves.

But when we say these words, we are not being empathetic. Or compassionate.

We are being egotistical and worst and narrow-minded at best.

Assuming that we know more and that others’ experiences parallel our own.

“I understand.”

Those two words are dismissive and minimizing.

Rather than provide comfort, they lend an air of superiority that leaves the “understood” one feeling invisible rather than appreciated as it reduces an entire lifetime of experiences and reactions to a mere sketch comprised of conjecture.

“I understand” is built upon a foundation of assumptions.

It assumes that everyone perceives as you do.

Feels as you do.

Responds as you do.

But they don’t.

You can relate. You can identify.

And you can certainly empathize.

But you will never understand.

It’s worse than simply putting words into someone’s mouth.

It’s also putting thoughts into their heads.

And feelings into their hearts.

We feel understood when somebody listens to us, not when they talk at us.

We feel understood when somebody accepts our perceptions rather than when they try to convince us of their own.

We feel understood when somebody honors and respects our differences instead of trying to reduce us to a common denominator.

And paradoxically, we often feel the most understood when somebody admits that they do not understand. And instead of offering words, they give the gifts of presence and kindness.

Because we don’t ever understand what somebody else is experiencing. But we all know what it’s like to be scared or hurting or confused. And we all know how important it is to feel understood and accepted.

So rather than saying you understand their situation, demonstrate that you understand that you cannot fully comprehend their pain yet you can support them just the same.

Be receptive rather than prescriptive.

Ask instead of tell.

And listen more than you speak.

For more on the idea of assuming understanding, read this post on The Good Men Project.

The Entitled Ones

Posted on by stilllearning2b
entitled

We all start out believing that we are the center of the world.

And then as we grow, our sense of our place in the world shifts.

Until we realize that we are not the center of the world. but a part of the world.

With a responsibility to step and speak with kindness and care.

Except some people never develop the understanding that they are a part of the world.

They persist in their belief that they are the sun and the rest of us are mere satellites.

And rather than stepping with kindness and care, they stomp on boundaries and crush others beneath their unfeeling feet.

And rather than speaking with kindness and care, they use words as weapons to harm and tools to manipulate.

They are the entitled ones. The self-crowned kings and queens of our realm.

Many were raised to be empowered, showered with excess and unearned praise by parents afraid of setting and maintaining boundaries. They held dominance in their families and assumed that their sway extended outside the familial home. They never learned how to hear a “no” or contend with a limit. They asked and they received.

Parents stepped in and cushioned consequences, so cause and effect was never mastered. They never received education in empathy, so they held on to a young child’s lack of understanding. And perhaps worst of all, these infant monarchs learned how to shuffle blame and avoid responsibility.

Some of the entitled ones earned their badge with an assist from genetics, given a biological limit to their abilities to empathize with and understand others.

In school, these entitled children don the label of “bully” as they use power, fear and manipulation to control the other students. In their world, the ends justify any means necessary and they are quite adept at pulling out every mean possible.

As they grow into adults, the entitled ones often find themselves successful. After all, when you’re ruthless on the ladder to success, you can leave quite a pile of bodies behind you. They can be charismatic, hiding their entitlement behind charm and practiced words. They’re just putting on a show for the benefit of their lackeys while they take what they believe they deserve.

And some of us fall for this charade. After all, it can certainly be a great show.

But these are the people that will pledge fidelity while actively pursuing another. They will set a household budget, yet feel entitled to break it. They will tell you what you want to hear while doing what they want to do.

The only reason needed for any action is,”I felt like it.”

But at some point, the curtains part.

And we see the special effects for what they are.

And we become aware of the strings tied around our own wrists.

Making us an unwilling participant in the entitled one’s play.

And for those of us that understand that we are all in this together, the realization that we were perceived as nothing but minions and pawns is a painful one.

But better to endure the pain of having the strings cut.

Than to never see them at all.

Be stronger than your pain.

Build your boundaries with your entitled one and enforce them with everything you have.

Let them be the center of their world.

But refuse to let them be the center of yours.

After the Affair: Are You Focusing in the Wrong Direction?

Posted on by stilllearning2b

You discovered your partner is cheating.

Driven by a mixed fuel of rage and pain, you begin a background check on the affair partner that would do the FBI proud.

Who are they? Why was my spouse drawn to them? What do they have to offer that I do not?

We’re looking for information that would protect our bruised and battered egos. That would support the rejection and lessen its agony.

But even if you discover that your partner’s dalliances were with Angelina Jolie or Brad Pitt (both seemingly the epitome of good looks, good character and good standing and well out of the realm of mere mortals like the rest of us), you will still feel the dismissal just as strongly.

Because the pain isn’t about the affair partner.

It’s about the rejection by your partner.

You’re focusing in the wrong direction.

I know. I did it too. My situation was different than many in the fact that the other wife didn’t know he has married (although I have to assume that the other “other women” did); she was conned as much as I was. Still, I grew obsessed with dissecting her, trying to understand the pull, as though she was some super magnet that emitted a force too powerful to resist that sucked him out of the marriage.

But that’s not the case, is it? If someone doesn’t want to be pulled from a marriage, nobody can have that power of attraction over them.

I was focusing in the wrong direction.

(For the sake of brevity and fairness (and my personal aversion to the repeated use of the term “affair partner”), I am going to refer to the other man/woman as the mister(ess). Because there isn’t an equivalent male-gendered term. Yet.)

I can hear you already. But in my case, the mister(ess)…

My reply?

It. Doesn’t. Matter.

I’ll prove it to you.

The situation with a spouse and another can be broken down into four main categories based upon the intention for reconciliation between the partners and if the mister(ess) is known to the betrayed spouse.

No Reconciliation; Unknown Mister(ess)

You and/or your spouse have decided that reconciliation isn’t possible. You’re grieving the loss of your marriage and harboring anger over how it collapsed. It’s easy to place the blame of mister(ess). Safe. It means you can avoid the painful realization that your partner was not the person you thought and it keeps you distracted from the very difficult responsibility of healing yourself.

The other person does not matter. The marriage is over. The “how” and “why” can provide some useful learning. But the “who”? The “who” is just noise.

I often compare the drive to know more about the mister(ess) to the obsession with scratching a scab. It can an all-consuming itch. A need that builds until you fill it. And then once scratched, the drive fades until it begins to build again. As long as you keep scratching that itch, the wound remains open. Leave it, and with time it will heal.

So unless you want the affair partner to be a part of your life moving forward, shift your focus to your future.

If you have kids, the situation is obviously more complicated if and when the mister(ess) becomes part of their lives.

It increases the pain for the betrayed spouse because it’s easy to feel usurped as both a partner and a parent. And often, that pain comes out in an attack on the mister(ess), sometimes even using the kids as weapons.

It’s a nuclear warhead of emotions, which makes it nearly impossible to be pragmatic.

So I offer you a litmus test.

Over the years, your kids have had (or will have) a handful of teachers that they do not bond with. If you run crying to the principal every time your child mutters, “The teacher doesn’t like me,” you’re doing your kid a disservice. If, however, the teacher is truly abusive and inappropriate, if you do not step in and protect your child, you’re doing your kid a disservice.

And it’s the same with the mister(ess) (or, in fact, anyone your ex is seeing). If your kids are in emotional or physical danger, do everything you can to save them. Otherwise, back off.

Refrain from badmouthing the mister(ess) to your children. If he/she is a bad person or has selfish motivations, your kids will figure it out on their own and will withdraw from the person (and grow some grit in the process). Good.

And if your kids happen to bond with the mister(ess)?

Well that’s good too.

The more people a kid has in his or her corner, the better. No matter how they came to stand there.

No Reconciliation; Known Mister(ess)

It is a much more difficult situation when you know the mister(ess). In fact, that is one of the criteria for compound-complex infidelity. The affair partner may be a friend of yours, an acquaintance, or even family. You’re betrayal is twofold – from your spouse and from your friend/family member.

They are two distinct betrayals.

Treat them as such.

You’re not reconciling with your spouse, so the advice above still applies.

And as for the other?

That’s up to you.

If you want to try to keep him or her in your life, you will have to move past the anger and work towards forgiveness. If you always see them as the mister(ess), they can never again be your friend.

If you decide the betrayal is too great to maintain the relationship, you will have to move past the anger and work towards forgiveness. If you carry that venom, it will only serve to poison your future.

Either way, releasing the fixation on the mister(ess) is key to your freedom.

photo 2-108

Reconciliation; Unknown Mister(ess)

So you and your partner have decided to try to make the marriage work. Yet you’re still consumed by thoughts and questions about the mister(ess).

You would surely be upset if your partner was focused on the mister(ess) after an intention of reconciliation had been agreed upon (and if that is your case, are you sure they really want reconciliation?). Why is it any different for you to focus on the other person? If you are holding on to the ruminations about the mister(ess), you are holding the marriage back.

Whatever you nurture, grows. If you want to save your marriage, that’s where your focus must lie. Not on what helped tear it apart.

Reconciliation; Known Mister(ess)

Hat’s off to you. You’re in perhaps the most difficult position of all. Remember, you have decided to try to salvage and repair your marriage. Focus on restoration rather than the storm.

It’s natural after an affair to want to blame. It’s natural to want to paint the mister(ess) as a vile, evil homewrecker intentionally alienating your innocent (or at least naive) spouse. It’s natural after an affair to become consumed by the questions, driven to uncover the sordid details of what happened behind our backs.

But all of that energy is focused in the wrong direction.

It’s turned to what hurt us rather than what can help us move forward. 

The mister(ess) only matters if you make them matter.