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| Adapted Cycle Of Abuse using Pusheen Cats! |
As you will note, the issue is one of reconciliation for me, but the other parties understand reconciliation and forgiveness as synonymous. In an upcoming post or two, I will also discuss aspects of how I worked through to a place of relative peace with the relationship, though anything less than the ideal in this proves to be a sad disappointment, something of a colossal understatement. I ask the reader to bear these considerations in mind.
Disappointment and Rejected
Forgiveness
A few years ago, I
wrote about
my parents' disdain (primarily my mother's) for my temperament
and my natural abilities because they didn't match their preferences.
Hillary McFarland used to link to it from the Quivering
Daughters blog, as it expresses the same kind of disdain and
cookie cutter expectations that many fundamentalists often hold for
their children who don't easily fit in a rigid mold. The Oxford
English dictionary defines
disdain as “the
feeling that someone or something is unworthy of one’s
consideration or respect; contempt.” Contempt expands
beyond this definition of disdain to include the “deserving
of scorn.” I find these definitions remarkably fitting,
because that is how I feel: disregarded, unworthy of basic
consideration, and a cause for shame to my parents. And I really
don't understand why, apart from their unwillingness to let me “be”
outside of the confines of what they want me to be. They also attach
deep moral meaning (moral betrayal) to things that I honestly see as
banal differences or just personal preference conflicts.
The whole conflict is very complicated for me because I know that my
parents do love me and deeply, but the problems come in the
expression of that love. As their only child, they have given me all
that they could and have expressed what they had the ability to
express (and I “call them blessed” for this), but the virtue of
their basic motive makes this conflict even more difficult to discern
their actions. I have come to have compassion for my parents as very
damaged people who were never shown due respect by their own parents.
As something that they've failed to confront well in their own
lives, they behave with me in many of the same ways that their own
parents did with them, perhaps just out of habit. I feel as though
they never learned how to express clear messages of love, offer
approval, or deal with their own shame. I understand their messages
to me as ones mixed with love, shame, and disdain together. I believe
that this speaks of their own felt shame which filters down to me
when I remind them of themselves. Their expression of love is
contingent upon my performance and how well I attain the standards
that they expect of me (or what they want for themselves. Where they
stop and where I begin was never clearly
defined.) Adding to the confusion, I know them well as the most
caring, compassionate, generous, kind Christians that a stranger or
just about anyone outside of our family could hope to meet.
That said, living great distances apart from them for the better part
of two decades, I feel like I completely lost the ability to perform
for them in order to solicit their expressions of love – or perhaps
avoid their expressions of disdain. Their expectations have become
very fluid as well, and I feel like I cannot even anticipate what it
is that they expect of me. (As a nurse, I also attribute some of that
to age appropriate social development when young adults age and shift away
from a primary relationship drive into a stage of a primary interest
in work and creativity as they approach midlife. See
Erickson's theory.)
A few years ago, I faced a set of very difficult, overwhelming life
challenges which provoked an unavoidable confrontation and impasse
with my parents. I developed physical and emotional limitations
(debilitating health problems, piled on PTSD which was compounded by
my own emotional
growth deficits/wounds), all of which severely limited my ability
to tolerate or adapt to my parents' responses of disdain. As a
consequence, I developed some difficult and disturbing behaviors
strongly associated with complex trauma, some going back to and
emerging from deep, early childhood abuse at the hands of someone
outside our family. These behaviors are not all that different
from many of those described in the appendix of the book, Quivering
Daughters. I should also note that a daily,
grandfather-like caretaker and the young
daughter of my godparents both died in close proximity to one
another when I was a young school-aged child. All of these things
profoundly affected me as I lost the ability to cope when I was still
a little girl.
My parents don't understand that their rejection significantly
triggers these behaviors and thoughts in my adult life and continues
to do so. Because they don't understand them and feel offended
by them, they deny that they exist. My mother once held up her hands
so that she would not have to look at me when I tried to explain what
I was experiencing. At the time, I didn't understand why she
was not moved with compassion for me but pushed me away instead,
crying out to me to stop. I think that she was more terrified
than I was broken, fearfully unable to take in what I was trying to
express. , I could not cope with much contact with them at all
after that because of the pain of rejection. Because of all of
the challenges that I faced at the time, I asked my parents to
refrain from discussing certain topics as a boundary that would
maintain our relationship but would not create intense pain for me
while I healed. Caught up in their own pain, they were unable to
understand.
Setting a Boundary
Discussion of my health was one big “off limit topic” that I
established because my parents attributed my illness and the affects
of PTSD to demonic influence, even before open conflict. When I
asked them for compassion and patience, my parents interpreted my
request as bitterness, accusation, and lack of forgiveness. They
accused me of lying about my distress and of telling creative lies
about some of the old root
causes that caused these behaviors to resurface.They believed I was completely cutting off communication in order to “punish” them. (That would be erecting a wall which is effectively what I have now, to be honest.) They understood my off-limit topics and boundaries as an arrogant and cruel manipulation which was said to be motivated by malicious intent to harm them. But to me, they seemed to say “It's our way all the way or the highway. Your 'stated needs' are nothing but lies of bitterness.” I know that they don't understand, but I don't understand why they seem so unwilling to even try to learn.
We have exchanged letters since that time, and I asked repeatedly for their cooperation through very practical ways in which we could communicate in order to have safe and meaningful contact. Primarily, I explained that what has hurt me more than anything was (is) the assumption that I'm evil and how everything they don't like gets automatically attributed or some disturbing lack of virtue in me. I ask for very specific considerations, too (e.g.,“When we have this type of conflict, could we agree to do this new action rather than what we have been doing?...”). My parents have never addressed these specifics, but they do offer manipulative, very global blanket apologies ("I'm sorry for whatever it is I ever did."). I see them as empty because they're also accompanied by shaming accusations that I am bitter and hateful, along with their own self justification. Everything for them reduces down to me bearing the burden of the conflict as the black sheep with a black heart. What I express as heartache and an inability to cope effectively with their current, ongoing accusations and rejection, they only understand as hateful unforgiveness towards them.
To them, forgiveness means that they will have license to continue to treat me with disdain in word and deed. Their last letter to me used spiritually abusive tactics questioning my salvation, suggesting that I would not see heaven because of the unforgiveness in my heart, though all I've asked for concerns how they plan to relate to me in the future or in the present. Some of the letters also claim license to treat me the way that they do because that is how their parents treated them. All of that self-justification and accusation completely discounts any feigned contrition they might express, and it suggests that I lack compassion out of some kind of motive of sinful self-interest. Their letters definitely don't convey any kind of compassion for the fact that I've expressed deep suffering. That seems to mean nothing which I must assume because my specific concerns for our relationship today as well as my feelings are never addressed.
The Sin of Anger, Tone, and the
Family Code
I
must add that when we've confronted the situation over the phone and
in person, though I start out well controlled, as I became
increasingly frustrated as the conversations unfolded, they
interpreted my
tone as harsh
and hateful. The previous
post explains more about this process and where I believe much of
the communication difficulty originates. (Also
recall from an earlier
post that anger and even assertiveness were forbidden in my home,
and I broke the non-negotiable family
code by expressing them.)
They heard the tension as I would struggle to speak through so much
sorrow and fear, but as I would grow more incredulous and shocked, I
became more deliberate. (Recall the role
of anger in the grief process.) My tone caused them to stop
processing the actual spoken message, because according to their
family rules, the
“sinfulness” of my tone cancels it out.
I automatically lose my status as a family member by failing to “play
by the family rules,” so they feel that they are not obligated to
listen. I haven't actually sinned in Biblical terms, but I've
violated the commandments of the family.
What
happens on their end is not much different than what I discovered as
a hospice nurse when I admitted new patients to our home care
service. Patients would get so overwhelmed with emotion upon
hearing that they were dying, they wouldn't even remember being told
so by their doctors. Days later when doing their intake visits,
when I talked about their terminal status as part of hospice
services, they would claim that they were never told about their
prognosis. The truth is that they were just so overwhelmed that
they don't remember any details. This is a form of cognitive
dissonance wherein disturbing emotions suspend rational thought,
an effect that is similar to what happens to people in cult
recruitment. Something very similar happens when I express any
frustration or even assertiveness with my parents because it is my
role in the family to remain passive and happy. Anything else cannot
be comprehended.
The Long Path of Forgiveness and
Obedience
I've spent many years and have clearly read every book on forgiveness
that I could find (as some of these posts indicate) in order to
resolve the conflict with my parents. I had to forgive them for the
shame, blame, fears, and limitations that they instilled in me,
believing in a skewed way that it was the best thing for them to do
as parents. I had to purge much pain from my own heart. I have
labored long with counselors and EMDR
and with God to forgive them and have released them from duty as I
labor at purifying my heart in a continuous process of diligent
effort. And after many years, I also came to have great compassion
for them, considering the struggles they face, learning that they are
struggling with many of the same difficulties that I do. They are
shame-based people who have been grossly mistreated and need
compassion. They are human and have loved me to what appears to be
the fullness of their capacity, and I am grateful and humbled by all
of the good that they've done for me.
I have resolved my anger and a good portion of the grief, and
when they emerge from time to time, I deal with the emotions I feel,
reaffirming forgiveness. Any hard feelings primarily come
through as my own feelings of toxic shame, triggered by the
manipulative letters of accusation. Sandra Wilson notes that when we
think about forgiveness, it stirs up additional grief. I can attest
that writing these posts, particularly this one, brings back memories
of the injustice I have suffered – things that will likely go
forever unresolved. They do stir up anger and grief and terrible
sadness, and it attests to the fact that forgiveness is an ongoing
journey . When revisited by the pain, I make the choice of obedience
to surrender it to God, choosing again to follow the Path
of Healing. Some anger remains because justice is never served,
and for all my tears and trying, there is no resolution. That
frustration can be a source of anger, so that I must also surrender
to God and affirm loving kindness and patience. (That certainly
didn't happen overnight but has taken many years of faithful
dedication to doing what is right in a spirit of love.)
Letters from my mother still derail me
to some degree in every area of my life, so I now just have someone
else read them to see if there's anything new or different in them
when they arrive. I would have hoped that I could have "thicker
skin" by now or a heart so full of divine love that no injury
would hurt me, but after many years, I still don't tolerate the pain
well at all. My heart is still tender and easily wounded, but not
for lack of doing deep emotional work, self examination, and much
intense prayer. I've learned to have respect for my own limitations.
I've had to. I chose to.
What I have described to my parents and what seems to go on
misunderstood has been that I have forgiven them freely, but I do not
feel safe enough to reconcile with them. I've essentially just
followed the most basic rules of assertive communication:
I essentially have said to them, "When certain things are said and done, I feel this way, and I need your cooperation and consideration because I'm not strong enough to cope with those things." I believe that what my parents actually say through their actions is that they are not strong enough to listen to my needs or the idea that anything they've done has resulted in my pain. But I don't believe that they are self aware enough to understand those thoughts and feelings consciously, let alone wrap words around them to express them in a way that I can understand. They lay all of the burden and responsibility for the relationship on me while they remain free of any duty. I wish I could set my own emotional needs aside out of respect for them, because the conflict would only amount to frustration and inconvenience. But I have not been able to conquer those difficult and disturbing trauma behaviors that contact with them triggers in me, and that hasn't been for lack of trying, either.
Resolution?
So what do you do when your forgiveness is rejected, or someone
determines that your forgiveness is disingenuous? What if they hold
you responsible for all of the duty in a relationship which should
rightfully be shared? What if one area of the relationship is
wonderful, and another is terrible? I have found that after this
impasse with my parents, any attempt to communicate results in the
same thing over and over again, and it actually becomes a secondary
offense. I find it beyond painful to listen repeatedly that I'm
considered to be vindictive and malicious, undeserving of both God's
grace or theirs – that is, unless I jump through their hoops,
returning home to bear the shame and punishment for things I haven't
even done and motives I've never had. It is offensive to be told
that I don't mean enough for them to try to honor my needs. I need
to become a person who doesn't exist with no needs, no feelings, and
no wants so that I can show duty to people who think I'm a horrible
person. And I don't even know how to begin to do that. I
can't. I choose not to do
it. It would be wrong for me to do so.
To draw an analogy, I've asked my
parents to stop kicking me because it hurts and causes me very
specific difficulty that has become a disability. Rather than
apologizing for the things that they do with me now that I am an
adult and working with me to find ways to stop, they almost do the
opposite. They tell me that because they never intended to kick me,
I haven't been kicked, and then they tell me that I don't feel pain.
They tell me there are no bruises. And having used this analogy with
my husband many times over the years, he says that they not only
justify why they have the right to kick me, they look for new ways to
do it (through new behavior that express more rejection and new types
of rejection). And he says that it really is hard to understand
because they really do appear to be “such
exemplary Christians and truly good people. Just not to you.”
Remaining in that place of pain almost
has a hint of that old joke in it about the guy who goes to the
doctor and says “It hurts when I go like
this.” The doctor says, “Well
don't go like that!”
It also reminds me of Portia
Nelson's poem, Autobiography
in Five Chapters, If I stay
in this place, I'm going to continue to suffer hurt, over and over.
That actually gives more opportunity for the growth of bitterness and
unforgiveness because it promotes offense, not only because of
repeated pain but because of the perverted message that pain and
injury somehow mean love. This actually destroys love and intimacy,
turning it into duty
and deadness.
There is nothing that I can do, save to
make an idol of my parents by admitting to a version of my life that
never happened and lying about things that have happened to me. I've
exhausted every avenue to change their hearts, believing for a long
time that I could, but their hearts are very much out of my control.
That's God's territory, and it's been my lesson to understand that I
can't do anything to merit their love and approval anyway (Read about
locus
of control). I would have to repent of sins I didn't commit or
feelings towards them that I don't have anyway. Even if I did and
accepted wrongful blame just to have some semblance of what would
seem like reconciliation, I believe that nothing between us would
change. I have already tried it, over and over. I have also tried
to destroy my personality, too, just so it would have only the
qualities that my parents found most comfortable. I believe that
even if I succeeded, I would still be the object of their disdain.
And I would have to serve them before I served God, and I would have
to deny who I am. I just can't do that anymore, and I can't do
anything to help them understand that. I can only meet them half
way. At the moment, they remain unwilling to meet me in the middle
to own their part in the cooperative effort that a relationship
requires.
To move through the pit of hopelessness
of impossible attempts to earn their love, I have to give up on the
fantasy that I can earn it or that I can do anything to affect it.
This is that radical realism in forgiveness that Sandra
Wilson writes about. We have to abandon our fantasies of
what we wish would happen and what we wish others were capable of to
embrace the reality of what is. I have to stop following that carrot
on a stick.
I have to accept what is, releasing my
parents to God. Instead of looking to them to honor me as a fellow
creature created in the Image of God, I derive that honor from God
instead. In an upcoming post, I'll explain a bit more about how I've
worked to move through this less than ideal process on the Path of
Healing.
release
someone to God when ideal forgiveness
Additional Reading: Link
HERE to an excellent article refuting the abuse of “touch not
mine anointed,” a Biblical phrase that is used to protect unjust
authority figures.
