Why I stay

I've been asking myself this question again lately, and this morning had some clarity that allowed me to remember.

I've considered starting over. Leaving always seemed like the easiest option. But I realized early on that for me, leaving would actually be turning away from pain that I know I need to face.

I had a major betrayal when I was young. My father went on a camping trip with my uncle and my uncle returned alone with a message. My father had said he was very ill and was leaving the country to get treatment and that we should not try to find him.

I don't have many memories about this time, although I was twelve and should probably recall more. So I don't know how long it all went on. But I remember that my mother began to doubt his story. I was incensed! How could she think my father would lie about something like this? How could she have such thoughts? As a loyal and loving daughter, I dismissed her doubts with disdain.

Well, as it turned out, my father had gone to a commune in northern California to try to "find himself." He'd had a very stressful year, and basically had a nervous breakdown and left.

From my mother I have learned to be understanding, forgiving, reasonable. I've learned that many points of view are valid and to be considered. That's what she showed me how to do when my father came back.

But what I never learned, never had the chance to do, was have and express my feelings of hurt, betrayal and anger at my father. I had the absolute faith of a child in a parent, made possible by the love and security my family had provided up to that point. And he had decimated that, blown it way by lying to us in a way that I'd never imagined possible.

Secretly, inside, I swore that I'd never trust men again; never, ever need a man. I'd have power over them, be desireable, but always remain detatched. And I was good at this. I even told Husband that when we started our relationship. "I want you to know that I don't NEED you."

Over the years this fear gradually slipped away. Through my relationship with husband I learned that it was okay to trust people. But I'm also an absolutist. An all or nothing kind of gal. So trust is either absolute or absent. No room for human flaws and frailty.

So that's what I think I have the opportunity to face now. That we often hurt the ones we love. But that doesn't necessarily mean we love them any less.

There is no man out there that can make me feel good about myself, or bad about myself for that matter. Another lesson I face here is to learn to be the source of those feelings for myself.

By not turning away from the pain, by being with it, feeling it, and learning to express my reaction to it, I think I can strengthen all the parts of me that were hurt before. I can teach them that they are stronger than they realize. And I can learn love and compassion for myself beyond what my absolutism has allowed before.

This is why I stay. This is the hope that keeps me on this path.

On better days I can remember this.