Funny how I forget the lessons I’ve learned. They’ve all been learned the hard way and at some point I behaved accordingly. Then suddenly something will happen to shine a bright light on the reality that I have actually forgotten and slipped back into old thought patterns and behaviors.

This time nothing earth shattering happened. My husband just went out of town for a week. I miss him. We spent a great weekend at a lake house with the kids right before he left. It was nice and relaxing. And then he was gone. This is certainly no tragedy and it’s perfectly normal that I would miss my husband.

It’s more what happened while he was gone that woke me up to some truths about  myself. Coincidentally (or not, depending on how you view these things) I’ve been reading a few books that were seemingly unrelated but all talked about mindfulness and empowerment on some level. So, being more mindful I’ve noticed quite a few things.

First and foremost, my anxiety level is way down. I’m still extremely busy at work. In fact, the end of each month is always busy in my industry and this month is busier than most. Before he even left I had made a decision to stop working too much and stressing myself out about it but I certainly didn’t expect my anxiety to decrease so dramatically. There is a lot more to it than work as it turns out.

The two biggest lessons I had forgotten (and am now writing down so I can be reminded again…just in case) are: 1. I am a capable adult and 2. My husband is not my father.

#1 – I am a capable adult. I forgot this. Somewhere between reuniting with my husband after our separation (during which I felt very capable and empowered) I lost that lesson. I’ve been beating myself up, catastrophizing and just feeling weak and bad about myself in general. In being mindful this week I’ve been thinking about all the evidence there is indicating that I am, in fact, a capable adult. I survived an abusive childhood, I survived marital infidelity, I gave birth to two beautiful baby boys both under not-so-normal circumstances, I’ve been successful in my career, I got myself into therapy 3 years ago when I realized something was very, very wrong, I made huge changes in my relationships and life in general, survived the near-demise of my marriage and career, managed to reconcile with my husband when we seemed worlds apart, went back to college, overcame my public speaking phobia, survived the death of one of my best friends…I could go on and on but you get the idea. I forgot all these things and more. Instead I’ve been focusing on the negative, and even on the potential negative. This has made me feel inadequate, like a basket-case and generally fucked up. I’m not fucked up. I was 3 years ago, no doubt about it, but now…I’m fine. I’m not defective and I don’t need to focus on what I think my shortcomings are. If I am not happy about any aspect of my life I have the power and the tools to change it or at the very least change how I think about it. Period. Duh.

#2 –  My husband is not my father. I don’t consciously think of my husband as my father in a literal sense, that would just be gross. But I do project my father’s behaviors onto my husband, simply because he is the man in my life and the father figure in this house. These two men could not be more different and I’m certain that is the biggest reason I chose him. My father was loud, explosive and abusive. Bigger than life and scary as hell to me as a child. My husband is a nice, caring, even soft-spoken guy. He does get angry and irritated from time to time though just like everyone else. When he is angry I become extremely anxious. He is rarely angry with me but I take it personally and feel almost compelled to fix it. Very old pattern. I learned the lesson that I am not responsible for fixing anything or for his emotions back when we were in marriage counseling. Old patterns die hard when I’m not being mindful.

I’ve noticed for several years now that I also become extremely anxious every weekday around dinner time. I suspected that it was because as a child I was expected to have dinner ready and waiting when my parents came home from work and the consequences of failing to do so were severe. I just didn’t know how to stop this anxious feeling around dinner time. In this week that my husband has been gone I have not felt anxious at dinner time. Not even once. It would be convenient for me to blame my husband for my dinner time anxiety. He’s gone and so is the anxiety. It’s not that simple or his fault. The reality is that he doesn’t expect me to have dinner ready and waiting for him. Even if he did, he is not abusive and…back to #1…I am a capable adult. If he were to become angry with me for not having dinner ready when he got home from work….so what? I’m not a helpless child at the mercy of a tyrant. Plus, he knows where McDonald’s is.

Empowerment. It’s a beautiful thing and a lesson I cannot believe I forgot because it’s SO important. Living in the here and now and being aware (mindful) of old beliefs and patterns that simply are not part of my reality today….another beautiful thing that leads to even more empowerment. I’m not going to bother to try and figure out why I forgot these lessons. I’m just grateful that my husband went out of town for a week, that I chose to read some books that got me thinking, that he’s going to be back home tomorrow, that he is who he is and that I’ve recovered these important lessons.

Thanks for stopping by!

I’ve read quite a bit in various books and articles about psychology and about Buddhism that talk about ”being in the moment” or “being present in the moment”. I’ve never fully understood what this means. It sounded, frankly, like a bunch of self-help psycho-babble and/or vague guru-speak. I was 90% certain that this idea was absolute nonsense because nothing I read adequately explained it’s precise meaning with any clarity.

I was wrong.

I caught a glimpse of the meaning of being present in the moment during my recent trip to the ocean. On that beach with the sun shining, the waves gently rolling in and out, the breeze blowing my hair and the incredible view of the vast expanse of the ocean before me, I was present in the moment. I was not thinking about work or bills or my past or my future. I was enjoying the moment. And that is all it means. It is no more complicated than that. I was making it more complicated than it is in trying to wrap my brain around a concept that seemed too deep or too vague for my neurotic little brain to grasp.

Being present in the moment is extremely difficult for me in my real life. Everything is easier at the beach. Once home I realized that I am rarely just enjoying the moment, or even just experiencing and observing the moment. Not all moments are enjoyable of course. Some moments are painful. Some are just boring. Or are they? It seems that in addition to having monkey mind, which is the primary reason I find it difficult to be present in the moment, I have fixed views on certain moments as they occur and if already dismissed as boring, for example, I don’t even attempt to look at it any other way. And then my mind wanders and I’m not in the moment.

The truth is that in mentally checking out during moments I have judged to be unworthy of my full attention I am likely missing a lot of moments that are absolutely worthy of my attention. In fact they are all more worthy of my attention than the thoughts that run through my head when I do let it wander. Worry over work and bills, past events and possible future events….none of this is more worthy of my attention than whatever is currently going on. I can’t change the past and can’t control the future. That is not to say that we should never look back or forward. We have to. But I think my time would be better spent in looking back or forward during brief and specific times of my choosing, not just to escape the current moment.

Because this is so difficult for me I turned to research, as I always do, through reading. After reading What Really Matters: Searching for Wisdom in America by Tony Schwartz as suggested to me by my friend Dawn (excellent book, I highly recommend it), I realized why I never found meditation to be particularly helpful in my life. It was relaxing while I was doing it and I was (when I wasn’t doing it wrong) in the moment, but it never translated into any lasting changes in my life. It was the type of meditation I was doing. I was practicing samatha meditation, in which the goal is to completely quiet the mind and focus solely on something other than your own thoughts (breaths, a candle, etc.). While this is a good way to relax and probably even a good way to start, I think vipassana meditation is more beneficial for me. This is an introspective type of meditation in which the focus is on your own thoughts. The idea being to allow whatever thoughts pop into your head to be observed without judgement, as if you are a neutral third party.

From the same book I learned a bit more about gestalt therapy so now I’m reading Gestalt Therapy by Frederick S. Perls. It is a highly technical book,not exactly light reading, but so far I’m learning techniques for staying in the moment. The first and most simple is during every day normal activities to constantly practice thinking, “right now, I am….”. This has proven to be beneficial already after only a few days. I was alone for much of this weekend so I tried it out and it’s sort of like tricking my brain into not worrying or ruminating. It sounds ridiculous at first but it truly does allow me to notice things I never noticed before and to remain in the moment.

For example, during my shower this morning I practiced. As in, “right now I’m washing my hair.”, “right now I’m washing my face”. I told you it sounds ridiculous at first!  In reality what this does is force you to stay in the moment. Literally. And I noticed things I have never noticed before, because I decided long ago that taking a shower is a boring necessity not worthy of my attention so my mind normally wanders all over the place. Today I noticed the sun streaming in through the window, how the shower spray feels like rain, how silky my hair feels with conditioner in it, etc…you get the idea. It was an eye opening experience during a “task” that I normally am somewhat annoyed that I have to even waste time doing and one that has become completely automatic.

None of the things I noticed in the shower may sound important but the idea is that we live most of our lives in this auto-pilot, checked-out state. Imagine the possibilities, especially in our relationships with others, if we were truly focusing our full attention in the moment. I’m guessing that I will notice things about people I’ve known forever that I never noticed before. Voice inflections, facial expressions, the possibilities seem endless. I’m interested in hearing from you about this if it is of interest to you. How do you stay in the moment and what have you noticed?

Thanks for stopping by!

True narcissists use many different manipulation tactics to control their targets and I’ve written about some. The one I’d like to write about today came up after an otherwise pleasant encounter I had with one recently. This person remains in my life for various reasons but at a safe distance. Last weekend I recognized a tactic that had not been tried out on me in a while and I had forgotten about it. I was not the target in this encounter and the target has never fallen prey to a narcissist so it sailed right by him. These encounters no longer enrage or upset me as they once did so I was able to witness the entire exchange with mild annoyance and even a little amusement.

Once you can see them clearly they truly are ridiculous petulant obnoxious bores. This one wanted us to hang out for a while when we had only stopped by for a few minutes for a specific purpose, were tired and just wanted to get home. As soon as we entered we were instructed to sit down and stay a while. It’s so subtle it’s easy to miss. Notice I said, “instructed”. Most people when they’d like a guest to feel welcome, despite knowing the guest has only stopped by for a moment, will invite the guest to sit down as in, “Would you like to sit down and stay a while?” or “Can I get you something to drink?” or “Can I take your coat for you?”. All of these invitations leave the guest with a polite way of refusing the invitation. In any of the examples provided the guest feels comfortable saying that they just stopped by for a moment and have to get going without having to be assertive or feel as if they are being rude or rejecting the person with whom they’ve stopped by to visit. When instructed to sit down and stay awhile, rather than being invited, polite people will feel awkward about declining. That’s because no question was asked. A command was given. Narcissists know this is how most polite people will behave and that is why it’s so effective.

Now, we’re all adults but still, no one enjoys feeling rude or dealing with an awkward situation. So, we sort of looked at each other as if to say, “ok, for just a minute.”, because we were tired. We did sit down. We did not remove our coats. We made noises about wrapping things up after only a few minutes of chit chat. A normal person would be able to read our body language and our verbal cues. Not so for narcissists. Not because they intentionally ignore these cues. They truly do not see them. We are not individuals with our own lives, agendas and bedtimes. There was an ulterior motive behind the command to sit down.

In this case we have a friend who may or may not be purchasing something from the narcissist. That was the point of instructing us to stay a while. It came up fairly quickly after some thoroughly transparent small talk. An actual deadline was given. If our friend does not make a decision by a certain date the item in question will no longer be available for purchase. This is how that message was delivered, “Tell your friend if the item in question is not purchased by a certain date I will sell it to someone else.”.  The idea, by itself, is not an unreasonable one. There is nothing wrong with anyone being assertive in any situation. In fact, it’s healthy. It’s the delivery. It’s the authoritarian and borderline threatening tone of voice. It’s the bossiness. We were being bossed… “Tell you friend…”.  A polite person might say something more along the lines of, “Hey, would you mind letting your friend know that if I don’t sell the item in question by a certain date I’ll have to see if someone else wants it?”. This is a much more pleasant, reasonable and mature way to handle a deadline.

It’s about control and money. Our friend may want to buy this item. This narcissist mistakenly believes that we have some vested interest in whether or not that transaction ever actually takes place and she places a higher value on money than anything else in life. She must control this transaction. If we believe she may sell this item to someone other than to our friend who has expressed interest then we will act on our fear that our friend may lose out and get her what she wants when she wants it. The funny part is that we couldn’t care less. We will pass along the deadline to our friend but we will not be affected either way. 

It was after the instruction to “Tell your friend…” that I realized what was going on. I felt uncomfortable about sitting down in the first place because I just wanted to do what we went there to do and leave. As the stalling continued I became more and more uncomfortable at having agreed to sit down. Once the ultimatum was given I realized that was the whole plan all along and I had failed to assert myself from the second we walked in the door. At that point I stood up and announced that it was time for us to leave. There was no argument from the narcissist, nothing about wishing we could stay or wanting to hang out with us for a while longer, no disappointment that we couldn’t stay. Why? Because the message had been delivered. That was the only reason for the initial instruction to sit down in the first place.

This all may sound like semantics and extremely petty to anyone not familiar with narcissists or these tactics. It is not petty. Give them an inch and they will take 4,000 miles. I have years and years of experience with this person. We have gone round and round over extremely overt manipulation tactics. Since I have stopped playing that game and made up my own rules for how we deal with each other she has been forced to resort to these much more subtle tactics. Sometimes they work and sometimes they don’t. I can never let my guard down when interacting with this person or I will end up right back where I was before I realized what she was. I will likely be reminded on a regular basis about the impending deadline. There was a time when this would have worked. I would have hounded my friend to get her off my back.

I’m not suggesting that everyone  in the world who has ever said, “Sit down and stay for a while.” is a narcissist. As I said, I know this person intimately. I know all the tricks. I would, however, consider this a red flag to be watchful of if I were meeting someone for the first time and given an instruction as opposed to an invitation. I would reserve judgment but would be on alert. It could be that they are just somewhat socially inept, are crass, pushy or are that’s just simply their way of trying to make guests feel welcome. If no other red flags popped up, no harm no foul.

Having said that, this is how most of them start off relationships…very subtle at first and then graduating to increasingly not-so-subtle tactics. If they show their cards too soon most people will run away. We must be hooked first, then reeled in and finally….filleted. Time and again I have fallen prey to this tactic by narcissists. In this scenario it caused little harm. We got home a little later than we wanted to and I was reminded again about what I’m dealing with. But imagine starting a relationship with a narcissist. This type of behavior would be the first step. Left unchecked, the instructions become more and more demanding and disobedience comes with consequences. Six months later you are allowing yourself to be almost completely controlled by the narcissist’s instructions, have lost all self-esteem, have no idea how you got into this situation and blame yourself. Of course this is just one of many manipulation tactics in a narcissist’s arsenal but it is one to be on the look out for from the very beginning of any relationship just in case.

If you find yourself frequently uncomfortable around someone in your life because you are doing things you’d rather not do or walk away from encounters with them confused and inexplicably angry, sad, scared or ashamed, you may be dealing with a narcissist.

Thanks for stopping by!

You’ve heard of this quote and this book, right? I’ve never read the book but have always liked the quote. I always think of this quote when stuck in a long line or traffic. That truly is not worth getting all worked up about. For the most part though, I have failed miserably at following this advice.

This quote popped into my head over the weekend. It was mostly uneventful. We had no obligations to attend to. We went out with friends Friday night and had a good time. Saturday was….weird. Hubby seemed to have quite a bit on his mind. Numerous concerns about my behavior. Initially I felt badly. I apologized. I thought all was well but then things were still….weird. As the grievances mounted I started to seriously consider how much of what he was irritated about truly belonged to me and how much of it was really all about him.

We don’t fight dirty or scream and yell and accuse each other of horrible things and bring up grievances from 10 years ago anymore so none of this was out of control. Neither of us were particularly angry either. He seemed to be more irritated than anything else. I was mostly confused. Later I did become angry but not so angry that I felt compelled to yell or leave or consult an attorney.

None of the issues we debated that day were of major significance. They were all pretty minor. One argument was over who should have stopped at the store to purchase milk and pop. Typical, mundane, everyday marital nonsense. Small stuff.

It occurred to me that day that I don’t like this quote anymore. It simply isn’t realistic or true. At least not as applied to marriage or any long term relationship. Life is lived mostly in the small stuff. Sure, there are major marital problems that can end a marriage. But many marriages live and die in the small stuff.

On the plus side it can be a welcoming hug after a day at work, a conversation over a recent news item or shared topic of interest, a giggle over something one of the kids says or does or or teary-eyed acknowledgment of how fast they are growing up. It can be the way we cuddle when we sleep, a mutual look at a party that says it’s time to go, a suggestion of a vacation together alone, a genuine compliment, open and direct communication, an inside joke, even just a loving look. This small stuff strengthens a marriage.

On the minus side it can be a statement that includes the phrase, “you always…” or “you never…”. It can be an unexpressed expectation that never had a chance of being met, a thought that leads to an unkind word, a complaint about something without all the facts, eye-rolling, passive-aggressive comments, accusations not based in reality, sweeping judgments and even innocent miscommunication. This small stuff can rip a marriage to shreds over the years. It tears at the very fabric of the relationship and builds resentment and confusion rather than understanding and intimacy.

Most marriages have a little bit of both of these types of small stuff. Mine does. The good small stuff far outweighs the bad but it still does exist. We are each only flawed humans after all. We worked out our small stuff on Saturday and moved on. The heartfelt apologies, kissing and making up, discussing a disagreement calmly and truly listening and considering the others’ point of view…these things help make up for the harmful small stuff. The good small stuff is what keeps us fully engaged.

Sure, hubby could come home with an itinerary for a surprise elaborate vacation, three dozen flowers and a lifetime supply of books. That would be pretty big, right? But all those grand gestures…big stuff….would be erased in a heartbeat if he made one snide comment about some mundane thing that I didn’t do or didn’t do to his satisfaction, wouldn’t it?

Unless there’s some really bad big stuff going on (and we’ve been there too) I say it is the small stuff that is most important in a marriage and mine is definitely worth the sweat. What do you think?

Thanks for stopping by!

Being the grammar nazi that I am, I must preface this post by pointing out that there is no “m” in the word valentine. Yes, there are still intelligent, educated adults who pronounce this word, “valentime”. It drives me insane. With that PSA out of the way, on with the post….

I’m not a fan of Valentine’s Day. I probably sound like a bitter old married woman in saying that. I get it. I do. Back in the day when hubby and I were still dating we celebrated every year. For those of you who really get into it…more power to you. To each his/her own.

One year long ago there was a huge snow storm on Valentine’s Day. We hadn’t planned ahead and made reservations. I secretly did not want to get all dressed up in a sexy skirt and heels, go out into the horrible weather and then wait 2 hours for a bad table at a chain restaurant. This was my first clue that this holiday actually means very little to me. I would have much preferred to just stay home.

There was another year where our on-again, off-again dating relationship was headed in the direction of off-again. Neither of us were feeling particularly romantic but diligently went out on Valentine’s Day because it’s what couples should do. It was awkward and not at all romantic.

I wanted to know where this Hallmark holiday originated and was surprised that it did not originate with Hallmark and to find this little statistic:

Approximately 85 percent of all valentines are purchased by women.
- The History Of Valentine’s Day

It seems that we always think the men should do something special for their partners on this day but it’s actually women buying the vast majority of the cards. Odd. Maybe the men are just buying lingerie. Yeah, that’s for their partners.

Anyway, back to why I don’t like it. It ranks #2 on my list of least favorite obligatory holidays (mother’s day being #1) for many reasons.

First of all, the absurd amount of commercialism surrounding this “holiday” truly rivals that of the whole Christmas season. Singles are made to feel unloved and unlovable for not having anyone to be romantic with. And who said a heart shaped box full of candy is romantic anyway? The worst part…pink and red…these colors do NOT belong together. They clash. Has no one else noticed this, seriously?! Babies with arrows…creepy.

Also, what if on the prescribed day hubby is not feeling particularly romantic? What if I am PMS-ing or otherwise cranky? What if we have other pressing things to do that day? What if we’re just in one of the low-tide places that naturally occur within the ebb and flow of a marriage? I could go on and on but you get the point. Just because we aren’t feeling particularly romantic on February 14th of any given year, does that make us a “bad” couple? Does that mean we’ve lost that loving feeling, we are unromantic or don’t care about our relationship? Of course not!

I would much rather receive an impromptu date invitation, flowers or perfume on any other day of the year. Why? Because then it’s spontaneous, from the heart and truly thoughtful plus much more meaningful. On February 14th it’s an obligation. Any other day it’s a loving gesture.

Hubby feels the same way I do about it. So, we agreed years ago, to simply ignore this obligatory nonsense. In fact this year we’re having dinner at my mother’s house. It was not planned that way intentionally. We’ve been trying to accept her offer for a Sunday dinner for weeks but have had other plans. A few weeks ago we confirmed the Sunday after the Super Bowl and none of us even realized that was V-Day. It doesn’t get more romantic than that.

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We had been friends for years. Our kids were friends. Our husbands were friends. We all spent several nights per week together in one combination or another. All of us hung out at their house at least one night almost every weekend. We went on couples’ dates together. We went on family outings together. We attended concerts, went out to dinner, had parties and barbecues…all together. They were our best friends. They were there for us when we were having marital problems and neither took sides. They were like family.

That all changed one night in July. Turns out there was a big secret lurking in their home that they hid quite well from us, despite all the time we spent over there or how close we thought we were. We knew they were having some marital problems. We knew their teenage son was having some emotional problems. We had no idea, or looking back it’s more honest to say that we had some idea, but we really didn’t know or want to know the whole truth.

My friend called and asked if I’d watch the kids. She was hysterical. Of course I said yes. It seems their marital problems were much more serious than we knew. He was threatening to leave and take all of their money. She was panicked, had some errands to run, and wanted to leave the kids with us for a few hours.

She returned several hours later and that is when the full truth came out. He was in the middle of a full-blown narcissistic rage that would only continue to get worse as the night went on. He made many threats against her, her car, our home, their home and himself. He would hang up on her for refusing to come home and then immediately call back to scream horrendous insults and threats at her. She and the kids were panicked. My kids were panicked.

At one point she was on the phone with the police and kept putting them on hold to answer his calls because she was afraid to not answer him even while on the phone with the police. The whole truth was displayed for us with all the gory details that included years and years of emotional, verbal and physical abuse against my friend and her teenage son. She tried not to let us hear but he was screaming so loudly that even at the lowest volume we could hear him clear as a bell from the next room. She finally became so terrorized that she actually believed he would come to our house and asked if we could go to my sister’s to spend the night there instead.

Of course my sister opened up her home to all of us. We stayed up until 3am talking and just sitting with her and her kids. The whole time the insane phone calls never ceased. He called his wife and mother of his children names I have never considered calling my worst enemy. He threatened suicide. He threatened to burn down the house. He threatened to bash in her car. I heard him say that she had unleashed a monster that she will never be able to escape from. He tried every form of aggression he could think of to get her to come home but she was too scared. She finally turned her phone off and we all slept on the floor in the living room of my sister’s small home.

Of course he never did any of the horrible things he threatened to do the night before. In the morning, sober and more in control, he apologized….sort of. She went home. With her kids. Alone. We offered to go with her. The  night before she had said she would be taking the police with her to pick up clothes for herself and the kids. In the morning, when he was calm, that all changed and they went home. 

My sister and I were terrified of what they were going home to. What he would do once he got them back into their house all alone. When I spoke to my friend later that day she said that they had talked and everything was fine. I imagined him standing over her shoulder or even on another phone listening. I was traumatized and shaky for two weeks afterwards. We had re-lived any given night from our own childhood and were helpless to stop it even though we are adults now.

I have not talked to her since. Her kids have not spoken to mine since that night either. I knew I could never be friends with a known child abuser but I naively thought that she and I could maintain our friendship and that our kids would not lose their friends. I was wrong. I tried for months to get together for dinner or drinks but there was always an excuse.

She and I did have an e-mail correspondence in which she mentioned that she hopes her son is happy and that she has done everything she could to make his life perfect and prepare him for adulthood. That story may still fly with the ladies at school or in the neighborhood but she knows that I know the truth. I couldn’t just go along with the delusion so I reminded her that her son is depressed and about as far from happy as he can be because of his abusive father. She didn’t come out and say why she has cut us out of her life but I can only guess that they need us out of their lives because we know the truth. His image is blown.

I had suspected he was a narcissist. There were many clues. He always had to be in control. Once he even took the wheel when hubby was driving us somewhere because he thought he was about to hit a parked car (he wasn’t). His constant efforts to convince everyone of his perfect image and the perfect home and all the things he needed to make it a perfect home. He was obsessed with appearances including, but not limited to, a perfectly landscaped and manicured lawn. He bragged constantly about his latest frivolous purchases that no one else cared about and had to have the top of the line everything. He always had to be right. I also noticed tell-tale signs in the ways they interacted. When his glass was empty, she jumped to refill it. At parties they hosted she spent the whole time keeping everything immaculate instead of enjoying the party. I could go on and on. I chose to ignore it because we enjoyed their company and because I figured their marriage was their own business.

One night in July changed everything and yet it changed nothing. We lost our best friends but that was really only an illusion anyway, wasn’t it? For all I know we are just one couple in a long line who have been cut off when he has slipped and exposed his true nature. Nothing changed for my friend and her son. I hope they are ok. I hope she gets the courage to take care of herself and her kids. I hope she believes that I will be here for her if she does.

Thanks for stopping by.

I’ve written quite a bit about marital problems. Looking back, it’s clear where I could have taken responsibility for things that I didn’t but at the time I probably would have punched anyone for even suggesting that maybe some of our problems belonged to me.

When hubby and I first started marriage counseling, sometime in late 2007, I was not hopeful. He went only begrudgingly. In fact, he went only because I gave him an ultimatum. He spent a huge amount of time and effort on arguing about going (as if we didn’t have enough to argue about already) before the ultimatum. I couldn’t take the fighting anymore and finally “strapped one on” (my therapist’s words) and said we had two options; divorce or marriage counseling.

We were fighting like cats and dogs. We literally could not be in the same room without fighting. I was crawling out of my skin. He was mostly confused, I think. I wanted radical changes in our lives. He didn’t want anything to change. I was accusing him of all sorts of horrible behaviors. He denied them all. I was holding grudges dating back 10 years. He didn’t know what else he could do about that. It was a no-win situation. We had to have help.

Knowing all of that, I’m sure you can imagine how thrilled he was to be there. Our first several visits consisted mostly of him denying we had any reason to be there in the first place and me sobbing in the fetal position. He raised his voice. I cried harder. Good times.

Through all of this, I was somehow able to communicate to the marriage counselor what my grievances were. The biggest one was that I had been betrayed. Never mind that it was 10 years prior. Never mind that he had done everything in his power during that 10 years to make up for it. Never mind that he had apologized no less than 1,000 times and proved over and over again how much he regretted it and that it would never happen again.

I was recently talking about this with someone who put it perfectly. I took very good care of that grudge. I nurtured it and watered it and held it and talked to it until it grew into this diabolical malignant tree whose roots invaded every aspect of both of our lives.

Why did I do that? I was a victim. It makes me sick to write that today, but that’s how I felt. I had been betrayed by the one person in this world I trusted the most. He was the criminal and I was the victim. That role suited me well for 10 years. In that role, I got to view him as a jerk who I could leave at any moment if I decided that’s what I wanted. In that role I got to keep one foot out the door. In that role I didn’t have to truly commit to real intimacy. In that role I was above criticism from him. How can the criminal dare to say anything even remotely critical to the gracious and wounded victim? When he did dare, I was sure to remind him and order was restored.

The marriage counselor was right there with me. She blamed him for everything. When he complained about that, I felt further justified in my own victim role. I was right. A professional said so! I accused him of not wanting to take responsibility for his actions. I was quite sanctimonious. While it was true that there were some things he was not ready to take responsibility for, this was not one of them.

The exact amount of time we spent with that marriage counselor is fuzzy. It was a time of such turmoil that the details aren’t clear. At some point I came to realize what hubby had known all along. She wasn’t the right counselor for us. We never had one session with her in which any progress was made. We yelled and fought and cried throughout each and every session and we certainly didn’t need to pay anyone else for that, we were good at it all on our own. We left feeling further apart every single time. While I always felt like I had someone on my side, it wasn’t helping our relationship.

It took the genius of our second marriage counselor to make me see that there were things I wasn’t taking responsibility for either. The big one was, of course, that grudge that I had been clinging to for so long and my status as victim. The act of betrayal itself was not my responsibility. That was all hubby’s and he knew it. What was my responsibility was letting go of the victim mentality and the resentment. We didn’t have a single chance at success without that. Once I finally learned that lesson, the rest of our issues were much easier to deal with and ditching my victim role felt like a 1000 pound weight was lifted off my shoulders.

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This quote made me laugh. It hits close to home. If my sister reads this she will definitely agree. We did not grow up in an affectionate family. There was no hugging, no touching at all really. In fact, she remembers an actual conversation in which our father told her he was going to stop hugging her because she had gotten too old. I don’t remember any such conversation myself but just thinking of hers creeps me out.

There was no overt sexual abuse in our family. There were definitely no boundaries though along with what is called covert sexual abuse. He told us about his sex life, or lack thereof. Doors were never to be locked and he didn’t even bother closing them. Tickling well past the point of it being even remotely fun. Creepy conversations like the one I mentioned above. You get the idea.

Even our extended family…grandparents, aunts, uncles….were simply not affectionate.

This has been on my mind after some conversations with my friend Consuella over on our friend Dawn’s blog recently. I write about all sorts of details of my emotional life here on this blog but still have an extremely difficult time expressing affection…even in writing, let alone in person. I’ve written about intimacy issues before but I think my issues with affection are more than just fear of rejection, although I’m sure that is a major factor.

When I first met my husband’s mother, she had a bunch of people over. She always had a houseful. As I was introduced to each new person they hugged me and gave me a kiss on the cheek. This completely rocked my world. Why were all these people touching me?! It felt so bizarre. It was uncomfortable and awkward. For me. I’ve gotten used to this practice of greeting each other and saying goodbye with a hug and a kiss with his family. Sort of. I’m much better at it than I was back when I first met his mother but there are still times I feel awkward. My sister and I, as close as we are, never hug.

I don’t have this problem with my sons. I hug and kiss them and tell them I love them all the time. I am also comfortable expressing affection with my husband. Although he may disagree, I feel like I am because we hug and kiss and say I love you every day. That’s way more than what I was used to so it may seem like more to me than it does to him, since he was used to a very affectionate family. Unless I’m caught up in a moment (which is rare) I’m still not comfortable talking about affectionate feelings.

It’s not that I don’t want to or that those feelings aren’t there. I think it’s a combination of intimacy issues, boundary issues and that I simply don’t know how. Or rather that I’m still learning how.

Take using chopsticks for example. If you grew up using chopsticks every day to eat your meals you would be an expert early on in life. I never used chopsticks to eat anything. It’s something of a novelty when we go out to dinner but I’m more likely to fling a single piece of rice across the room than I am to actually get any food into my mouth when I use them. For me, it’s the same with expressing affection. I don’t really know what I’m doing so it feels uncomfortable.

Just like the chopsticks, if I practice, I will get better. That is evident in how far I’ve already come. As I mentioned, for the most part I am used to, and even enjoy the hug/kiss, hello/goodbye that is customary in my husband’s family. When hubby and I first got married I not only shut but also locked, the door when I took a shower. I never wanted to cuddle when we went to sleep. It felt suffocating to have his arm around me. I even built a little wall of pillows at one point. Now, I’m all about spooning when we go to sleep and have even mentioned that I can’t believe I used to dislike it.

I still have a long way to go. When I responded to Dawn’s lovely post it felt to me as if I had just gushed all sorts of emotion and gotten all schmoopie. When my sister read what I wrote she said it was not at all gushy and was actually more like a butterfly hug (that’s what we call a 1/2 hug with a couple of light pats on the back – the only kind of hug that has ever actually occurred between our family members to the best of our knowledge). Even in writing, I just don’t know what I’m doing when it comes to expressing affection. Piss me off and I’ll write entire posts about it, but love and affection….my natural instinct is to go for the cocktail or my standby….”I love you man.”.

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I’m out of limbo.

I’ll start with the worst news since that’s how I usually choose to receive news. Bad news first. The new doctor is not going to be able to treat my friend. This is, of course, the worst possible news but not exactly unexpected. There was some hope but really nothing has changed. Her condition and prognosis are still the same as before she met this doctor. Unfortunately, she is still in limbo but fortunately, still alive. She is a fighter.

I have another friend whom I have wanted to have a conversation with since the last time I saw her in July. Since then she has not found the time to get together so I finally sent her an e-mail. Her response was actually pretty much what I expected. She cannot explain why we are no longer friends except that she has chosen to stay in a bad situation in which she allows herself to be controlled by someone else and the person holding the strings is not someone I consider to be a friend. It’s too bad. She was a good friend for over 6 years. My sons were friends with her kids and they miss them. They don’t understand why we don’t see them anymore. I explain it the best I can but in all honesty I don’t really understand it either. I do feel better having gotten it out there in the open and letting her know I am here if she changes her mind.

And finally…the good great news. I have a new job! I couldn’t be more excited about this.  It’s similar to what I’m doing now except I get to work from home full-time. Every day. No commute. No office. Ever. Plus there is room for advancement which there is not in my current position. So, the new year will also mark the beginning of a new career opportunity for me.

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How do you define family? Is it as simple as including only people who are related by blood or marriage?

My mother, for example, seems to have a very strict set of rules by which she defines family. In one of the biggest arguments she and I have ever had she pointed out that I am only related to her sisters, brother and mother because I am her daughter. No, it wasn’t a childhood genealogy lesson. I was 27 years old. I had a pretty good handle on how genealogy works. The argument was about who was to be invited to my wedding. We disagreed and she said that her family would be upset with her if I didn’t invite some people that I was not planning on inviting. It was when I pointed out that it was my decision and that our family members would be upset with me and not with her that she felt compelled to point out that they were really more her family than mine. Why can’t memories like that one be repressed I wonder?

It’s not that simple for me. Of course my husband and kids are my immediate family, as is my mother and my sister who is also my closest friend. In addition to my blood relatives and relatives by marriage, I consider the majority of my friends to be my family. In fact, I am closer to many of my friends than I am to most of my relatives.

This is one of the things I love about my husband’s relatives. I’ve always felt like part of the family. His siblings, parents, aunts, uncles and cousins don’t have such strict rules about who is family. Many friends are called aunts, uncles or cousins even though they are not truly related in any way. They are still part of the family.

One friend in particular comes to mind as an excellent example of this. I believe we first came to know him when he became a high school friend of my husband’s brother. My sister met him at a party at my mother’s-in-law house and they dated for a while. Later, he and my husband became friends. Through various parties and holidays my mother-in-law became friends with his parents. We all became friends with his siblings and his girlfriend, who is now his wife. His youngest sister recently completed a high school project by working with my sister for a day. Our lives are all intertwined. They are all family. We’ve disagreed and bickered over the years. There was some awkwardness when he and my sister stopped dating and some more when he started dating his wife since he and my sister had dated yet were still friends. We all moved on from those things and continue to be close after all these years.

One of my girlfriends comes immediately to mind as well. We grew up next door to each other. She and I were roommates for 2 years. Her father gave the eulogy at my father’s funeral. We stood up in each others’ weddings. We’ve spent a lifetime together. Sometimes we’re caught up in the business of day to day life and don’t see each other or talk as often as we’d like. Sometimes we take trips together and see each other quite often. No matter what, we know we’re here for each other, to laugh or to cry with.

Related or not, the people whom you most enjoy spending time with, whom you care about and truly know…that’s family to me.

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