Family of origin and self esteem issues

On Wednesday nights, Son and I usually go to a hobby group together. Sometimes Husband joins, and sometimes Son and Husband go without me.

Husband is working late tonight, as he has been of late with his still-new job. So Son and I have gotten into a routine of meeting my mom for dinner before our hobby group.

I'd stayed up too late last night (watching Battlestar Galactica in bed on my iPad!,) gotten up early, and had a long day. As we waited for the check, Mom asked how my day was and I mentioned that I was pretty bushed. She thoughtfully offered to go to hobby group with Son. Since she'd accompanied him a few times before I didn't think he'd mind.

But when I told him Mom was going with him instead of me, he began to protest and continued to beg me to go as we made our way to the parking lot. I was surprised, and torn because as we approach the end of Son's single digit birthdays, I have a limited number of such opportunities left.

He continued to cling to me and whine (not too passionately, but stubbornly nonetheless.)

My mom absolutely couldn't tolerate it.

As I listened to Son's faux-whining and gave further consideration to my decision, she immediately tried to shut him down - I think in my defense, although I hadn't asked to be defended.

"It's okay, Mom, he just wants me to go with him," I said, soaking in the feeling of Son's arms wrapped around me in his attempt to obstruct my progress toward departure. But she kept offering alternatives and telling him to stop being upset.

I quickly lost my patience and told her the conversation was between me and Son, and to stop involving herself in a discussion that didn't involve her.

And then came the truly astonishing, revealing part of the conversation:

Son: You have to go, and that's that!

Mom: Stop that! She said she's tired. Do you want her to drive while she's tired and get into an accident?

Me: Mom!! Stop trying to make him feel guilty!! Stop trying to make him feel responsible for things that he's not responsible for!

Mom: Well he has to know the circumstances!

Oh my god, how instantly she can transport us to another universe!

Me: But that's COMPLETELY MADE UP!!! That hasn't happened, and it's not going to happen!

But she couldn't see it.

She doesn't understand that she was trying to make him feel guilty for wanting me to come with him to hobby group, and she doesn't get the concept that she's teaching him to feel responsible for everything that happens in the world.

If you want your mother to come with you to hobby group when she's tired, and then she does, and then she has an accident, it will be your fault for begging her to go.

She can't see that she's teaching him to try to anticipate how things will turn out and then shape his desires, needs and feelings around that, as if anyone can really anticipate the future.

She can't grasp that she's telling him that he has the power to keep his mother alive by not expressing what he wants in that moment.

No wonder I've lived most of my life unable to validate my feelings, needs and desires in a healthy way.

No wonder I feel responsible for things beyond my control, and believe deep down that if I'm just fill-in-the-blank-enough, all bad things will be averted (and then conversely if they're not averted, that some failure on my part must be the cause.)

It further amazes me that until recently I would have been unable to even recognize the unhealthy dynamic transpiring.

Aside from explaining my particular fucked-up-ness, this interaction is a succinct illustration of the fact that people who love you can mess you up just as much as people who don't love you.

Being really exhausted and knowing I have a full day ahead of me tomorrow, I told Son I really wanted to go home this time, and that I'd go with him next week for sure.

"Oh, fine!" he harrumphed, assuming a mildly British accent. "And you're going to make me late, woman!" (One of the many things I cherish about Son is his keen sense of humor.)

As we parted I called out to my son, "Don't let your Grandmother make you feel guilty!"

And then I turned to my mom. "Thanks, Mom."

"Well get some sleep!" she said. "And don't forget to get gas!"

Ackkkk!!!

God! Grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change!

Courage to change the things I can!

And the wisdom to know the difference!

Quick!!!

What I learned from Facebook

I think this talk by Facebook COO Sheryl Sandberg speaks to some of the issues faced by women in their personal lives, as well as in their professional lives:

Esteemable act for this week

This has been a big week. I had a planned hysterectomy on Monday to solve a problem of severe bleeding due to fibroids. And Tuesday Husband got some big news that equals a big step forward with his project. So the time for esteemable acts is now, because I can feel the sea of self-doubt churning.

At 46 my chances of bearing a healthy child were questionable at best, but now it's a definite no. As the date for the operation drew near I was very busy with work, so didn't have time to dwell on the sadness that came up from time to time. Which was a good thing I think. (And thankfully I've been able to talk to Husband, close friends and my therapist about it.)

We both realized we wanted another child almost the moment our son was born, but it didn't work out that way. We never went to extreme measures, I had one miscarriage at 15 weeks when I was 40, and despite lots of ovulation kits and pretty consistent trying, I didn't get pregnant. Even after I found out about Husband's sex addiction, I diligently kept going to the acupuncturist for fertility treatments, but I think I was under too much stress to get pregnant for the next couple years. Then Husband had medical issues of his own that made sex challenging. And then at the beginning of this year I had the period that wouldn't stop. I thought I was miscarrying because we'd been trying and my period was late, but after a month I ended up in the hospital with dangerously low hemoglobin levels. I was, as usual, busy with work and attributed my shortness of breath and exhaustion to allergies and not enough sleep. But no, actually I was slowly bleeding do death. (Kind of dramatic, but not an exaggeration.) The fact that it took me so long to notice brought up issues that I'm addressing. But that's not what this is about.

What this is about is Who am I if I'm no longer the wife who can bear children? I'm no longer young, I'm no longer in possession of a uterus, I'm not thin, I don't look like a model, I'm not the wide-eyed adoring girl he met 22 years ago, I'm not, I'm not, I'm not...blah blah blah...Who am I if I'm not an object of attraction to Husband?

I need to answer that question more than ever now, so it feels good to be working on it.

I've been thinking about my esteemable acts as things that I can do, actions that I can take without depending on someone else, actions that leave me with a sense of personal accomplishment, with the feeling that I'm doing what I was put on earth to do, with the feeling that if I died today, I'd have been doing something with my life that was meaningful to me and fulfilling in the moment.

All big things start with small steps, so the small steps I took this week all had to do with self-care. I took the week off of work and have been focusing on resting, spending time with my family, and reading two books: The 4-Hour Workweek, which focuses on freeing up more time; and Zen and the Art of Making a Living, which focuses on "creative career design."

Oddly, taking this kind of time for myself feels indulgent, so I'm counting it as an esteemable act, because I'm declaring by my actions that I am worthy of the time to consider and plan my future, that I don't have to be working every moment to be worthy and valuable - that I can declare my value and not have to prove it by working when I should be resting.

Like I said, it's a baby step.

Being loved used to be enough

Went to see my therapist today. I've been feeling better, not so heavy and sad, but I know I still have work to do on my self esteem issues so I was looking forward to getting back to it.

We talked about my anxiety over the prospect of Husband's success, and my fear that he'll get all caught up in his success and meanwhile I'll disappear. And that when he has success, that will make him attractive to hot young women who will look at him adoringly and giggle and make him feel smart and cool and sexy. My crazy head says to me, "If someone can have something better, then why wouldn't they want that? And what do I have to offer that would trump a hot young body, a gorgeous face and pie-eyed admiration? Isn't that much more attractive to a man than a 46 year old, nice looking but chunky woman who is sometimes distant, sometimes sad, and highly suspicious of you?"

One of my close girlfriends who knows what has happened between Husband and me told me that her therapist suggested doing "esteemable acts" as a way to build self esteem. I've been putting off thinking about what these could be for me because I've been so busy with work. (I also put of going to the doctor because of work earlier this year and ended up in the hospital with dangerously low hemoglobin levels because I was slowly bleeding to death, so I guess I don't learn, do I? I'm fully recovered now, and none the wiser apparently.) But I don't want to go along in this same self-esteemless rut and wake up in 5 years to see I've made no progress.

I also talked with my therapist about my sadness over losing the relationship I thought I had with Husband. I don't have any big accomplishments in life. I haven't climbed the Seven Sisters, or become a successful artist, or written a book, or traveled the world, or discovered anything, or cured anything, or become an expert in my field. Nor do I have the material trappings of success: no VP title, no big salary, no fancy car or house, no fantastic wardrobe. Before these things didn't bother me, because I always came back to my relationship. That was what I had. That was what was really important in life, and there I was successful. All that other stuff was icing on the cake - great if it came along, fine if it didn't. I had a loving partnership that was solid and true.

And then I didn't. Instead I had a husband who'd had sex with dozens of other women while we were married, spent tens of thousands of dollars on those prostitutes, and lied to me about all of it, even making me feel wrong and bitchy and crazy when I ever asked about things that I thought were questionable - odd charges on the credit card, for example (which I later realized were for subscriptions to prostitute review and reservation sites.) And I had the pain of feeling like I'd become forgettable to the person I thought loved me most in the world.

So now sometimes I feel I don't have anything. Not the material spoils, not the outward gains, and most important, not the trusted partnership that I valued above all else. I do have my amazing son, but I have to be careful to remember that relationship is ultimately about letting go. He's not my life partner. If he's healthy and if we have a healthy relationship, he'll be separating, not hanging around as I get to be a little old lady the way I envisioned Husband would.

Thinking about it, I realized I ended up in this position because I think that for me, being loved was enough. As long as I knew I was loved, other personal goals and desires became secondary. What could be more important that spending time with the person you love most in the world? Not that I gave up my dreams and interests. I just didn't pursue success or any particular accomplishment, didn't try to climb ladders and get ahead. I had my own life that was busy and full and didn't revolve around Husband. But I didn't have a strong agenda for myself. I didn't need one. I felt deeply loved, and that was enough. I didn't long for anything else.

But now I see that I stopped building my own identity out in the world. I wasn't an appendage to husband at all. But I stopped growing and shaping myself outside of my happy little world of family and close friends.

The best metaphor I can think of is boats. We weren't two boats anchored side by side. We were two boats, but he was the one with the anchor (at least that's how it felt) and I was tied to him with no anchor of my own.

So it's time to begin with esteemable acts, so that I don't disappear from the world if Husband forgets about me. (Not that I really think he will anymore, but the fear of that is hard to get past.) Time to define who I want to be in the world, what I want to do, and take action on those things. That doesn't have to take anything away from my relationship with Husband. And it will help me develop a relationship to myself. I will create my own anchor.

So how do you cultivate self esteem?

On the Pat Morrison radio show yesterday, Rabbi Harold Kushner said "I would make a distinction between curing, making a problem go away, and healing, which is giving a person the emotional, spiritual resources to cope with a problem that isn't going away."

I think this is an insightful way to describe the process I've been going through since I discovered Husband's sex addiction.

There is no making my past go away. But I've been gaining the emotional, spiritual,and psychological resources to cope with the reality of life. I've been healing.

One area that remains unclear for me is building my self esteem. In June 2008 I declared a Year of Self Definition and yet 16 months later I still feel a bit stumped about how to cultivate a strong relationship with myself.

I have glimmers of it. I've gained a lot of tools and insight from therapy, support groups and reading. But I also have a lot of persistent patterns that originate in self-loathing.

I felt a flash of clarity in the reading I did today in Pema Chodron's The Wisdom of No Escape. In the chapter called Satisfaction she said that "one of the major obstacles to what is traditionally called enlightenment is resentment, feeling cheated, holding a grudge about who you are, where you are, what you are."

This passage really caught my eye because I recognized myself in it, and I began to start thinking about how I could re-orient my thinking and feeling about what I lack and focus instead on everything I have, everything I am. Gratitude for my life, and loving-kindness toward myself.

How would I treat myself, regard myself, be with myself if I were someone I loved? Certainly much different than I do now. I think exploring this question is on the path of developing / creating a relationship with myself that supports health and peace.

And now for a Stuart Smalley moment

The questions in church today were "How can I grow?" "What can I give?" "What can I celebrate?

During the service what came to me is that the origin of all forms of self-loathing rises out of my perception of self as separate from the divine. And that what I can do in the face of that is to surrender to being an instrument of divine expression. To view myself as a unique expression of universal consciousness, group mind, love-intelligence - I still don't know exactly what to call it (and perhaps it doesn't matter.) To live as if this is true - whether or not it is - because I'm freed by that perspective to live a better life.

What does this mean?

For me, it means that everything is as it is and that to resist is a waste of life and a waste of energy. So rather than trying to fix what is wrong I can embrace what is so and generate, or create my life from what I want for the future rather than from what has transpired in the past.

More briefly, to be pro rather than anti.

Pro good health rather than anti-fat.
Pro bring-out-my-best rather than anti-flaws.
Pro peace rather than anti-war.
Pro love and tolerance rather than anti-Republican.
Pro expression, compassion and personal responsibility rather than anti-conflict.
Pro creating a healthy, happy relationship rather than anti-betrayal.
Pro connection, growth and vulnerability rather than anti-perfectionism.

I can grow by surrendering over and over again to my true divine nature; surrendering to my path with the grace and strength of water to the river bed; and remaining but a loving witness to others on their paths.

I can give by joyfully and unabashedly sharing myself as a unique expression of the divine; practicing love and compassion for all; and understanding fear as a manifestation of ego and letting it be.

I can celebrate that I am alive in this moment.

A chance to practice, or how recovery can seep into other areas of life

Mark Twain once described a man who died and met St. Peter at the Pearly Gates. He said, “I have been interested in military history for many years, who was the greatest general of all time?”

Saint Peter responded, “Oh that’s a simple question. It’s that man right over there.”

“You must be mistaken,” responded the man, now very perplexed. “I knew that man on earth, and he was just a common laborer.”

“That’s right my friend,” assured Saint Peter. “He would have been the greatest general of all time, if he had been a general.”

This story illustrates a truth that is, unfortunately, all too common. Far too many people spend a lifetime headed in the wrong direction. They go not only from the cradle to the cubicle, but then to the casket, without uncovering their greatest talents and potential." - (T.Rath, Strength Finder 2.0 (Gallup Press, 2007) 29.)

I had a long talk today with a colleague about my professional future. As in many areas of my life, I'm learning that I find it incredibly hard to value myself. I don't naturally or easily give value to anything I bring to the table. Which makes committing to consulting full-time very frightening. (Sadly, I can take on creating my professional "story" much more easily as a task or assignment from my colleague than I can as a simple, honest self-assessment of my skills, talents and abilities.) Not that I don't want to have a career as a consultant, but I'm afraid that I'm somehow unqualified and unworthy of the rate I ask for my services, and that people will discover this.

But, because of the growth I've had this past year, I recognize that fear now as something to lean toward. Part of the reason I know I need to take this on is because it makes me nervous and uncomfortable.

So I'm raising a bowl of Ben & Jerry's to my Year of Self Definition, and committing to doing everything I can to succeed at this in spite of all the self-doubt that's plaguing me right now.

If it weren't for what I've learned about myself in therapy, and the reading I've done, and the spiritual growth I've had, I think I'd miss this opportunity.

This is my chance to practice acknowledging and accepting myself, all that I am. It's my chance to focus on my strengths instead of feeling guilty and unworthy because of my weaknesses; to take joy in what is there, rather than to suffer over what I perceive as missing. It's my chance to let myself be enough, even though I'm not everything...even though I'm not perfect.

I'm scared, but it's my Year of Self Definition, right? And I've learned that I can lean into the fear and be okay.

Still a long way to go

I was feeling cranky today because Husband was going to play his usual Sunday basketball game this morning, and then wanted to go watch the Celtics game at a bar with a friend. Earlier in the week he'd told some friends that their daughter could come over and hang out with us for the day, and we'd been talking about going to the beach. But then this Celtics game came up.

Husband's interest in sports has developed over the last 5 or so years (probably not coincidental that it developed as his addictions were kicking into high gear, as sports talk radio was just one of many distractions he found.) So I'm not really used to being a sports widow. But I don't really care. I've always liked the fact that we had our own separate lives and interests, even though many of our passions overlap. So when he brought up going to the game, I was disappointed because I was looking forward to our day at the beach, but he's also expressed a desire to "go to a bar and watch sports with the guys" once in a while, and I fully support that in theory. In practice, I wanted to see him, because I don't see much of him during the week. But I said it was okay, because I know this time with the guys thing is important to him, and having lives outside of being a couple is important to me.

As it worked out, Husband drove out to the beach with us (the daughter of our friends didn't come after all,) swam with Son for about 20 minutes, and then went off to find a bar so he could meet up with his friend and see the game. He'd come back to the beach when the game was over. Fine. That worked for all of us. But I was still feeling residually cranky.

Son ended up getting a bad sunburn on his shoulders, and we were both worried about that so we packed up to go shortly after Husband re-joined us. As Son was washing off at the beach shower, Husband said, "Well, the Celtics won."

I glanced up at him. I didn't know what to say. I was cranky that I hadn't seen as much of Husband as I wanted, I was very worried about Son's sunburn, feeling like a shitty mother for not realizing sooner that Son needed more sunscreen (I had on these weirdly tinted sunglasses that made it hard to see how red Son's back was)...so I said, "I...don't really...care about basketball." I wasn't trying to be mean. I was feeling crappy and just didn't have any small talk to make about sports in that moment. But I saw Husband's face harden into a mask of pissed off.

I asked if he was ticked off. He said that my response was rude. I apologized and said I didn't mean to be rude, but that I just had a lot of other things on my mind these days (yes - a passive aggressive reference to impact of Husband's betrayal) and was not interested in basketball. "I know you're not that interested. I was just trying to tell you about something that's important to me. But you don't care. I'll keep that in mind." His hard stare extended into the distance. As conflict avoiders we both slide easily into quiet resentment.

Looking at his angry expression, suddenly I could feel my heart in my throat. I became aware of the large breasted woman in the bikini top walking toward us as Husband glanced in her direction; I saw other bikini clad women with great figures all around, and realized how easy it would be for Husband to start looking at other women if he was angry at me. I felt searingly vulnerable - like he had so much power to hurt me so easily. I doubt anything like that was formulating in his mind. But I was painfully aware of the feeling that I would never be enough for anyone. I could find someone else, but there would always be someone prettier, thinner, younger. There was no way for me to be safe. No way. Except to be alone. To be done with vulnerability. To do everything I could to be a good mother, but to withhold myself from men. He has too much power, he has too much power. That kept going through my head.

As we were putting our things in the trunk, Husband apologized for speaking in anger and kissed me. But my anxiety and fear did not subside. Sitting beside him in the car, I tried to hang on to my picture of Husband Not The Addict. Because the face I'd seen him harden into was definitely the face I identify as Husband The Addict. I tried to separate the two but it felt impossible. I felt scared of the power Husband had, and sad at the thought of being emotionally isolated for the rest of my life.

Dinner was hardly any better. I held it together because I didn't want Son to have to deal with whatever was going on with me. But as soon as I could I got myself out to the treadmill. It had been a hot day, and the sweat came easily. Only then did I feel the anxiety start to recede. My thoughts became more rational.

Now, seven hours later, I can see that I have a lot of work to do yet on my individual path. A lot of learning how to hang on to my self and not be defined by the disapproval of important others when they express anger. (After all, I can see how my response to Husband's attempt to share what was on his mind with me was hurtful.) I'm much too easily wounded, because I depend so much on others for feelings of value and self-worth. It's easy for anybody to become too powerful because I give them so much power. I know I've grown, because I'm much less thrown by the disapproval of strangers. But important people (Husband, colleagues, etc) are still granted too much power.

The fear, sadness and anxiety have not completely dissipated but they are accompanied by the knowledge that if I did see Husband The Addict for a flickering second today, Husband Not The Addict was there too, and I think that's who's upstairs in our bed now. I'm just so afraid of the part of him that can discard me, the part of him that was able to do something so deeply hurtful to me without a thought.

More meditation, more spiritual reading, more reaching out, more therapy, more talking with Husband, more of the good, healthy stuff will lead me to a better place. I don't doubt this. But I was blindsided by my reaction today, and surprised at how much uphill work in this area of self esteem, self definition, lies ahead yet.