Tag: Honesty

Not Wrong, Just Different.

I have previously touched on the principle of requiring a circle, or village, of relationships to fulfil our needs.  The idea that just one or two people should or are able to hold and carry the multifarious requirements of one full lifetime of human experience is perhaps the crux of many problems.

In fact this principle has become such an obsession that the trend on social forums is to instruct each other on how to respond or be responsive towards each other. There are plentiful descriptions about ‘how to be a good friend/partner/parent/boss’ with minute instructions on what makes you good or bad; pass or fail….

But what this neglects to take into account is the principle of difference. That we are all wonderfully, uniquely varied in our gifts, attributes, strengths and, naturally, weaknesses and flaws too.

One of the most resonate compliments that my husband gives to me is that I am someone who always believes there is a way through; that there is a solution somewhere, somehow. And I do. I really believe nothing is insolvable, more deeply on an emotional level but practically too! So whilst I have realised that rescuing and saving people is dis-empowering (okay, I still do it as a sideline occasionally!), I am a great person to come to if you need some ideas, some guidance about what options might be out there to help you on your journey. If you don’t want any of that, if you want just to be heard in total silence and reverence… I might not be the best fit for the job. But here’s the critical point… that doesn’t make me wrong.  I am not going to be Jack of all Trades, good at everything, nor do I want to be. I want to be really good at things that come naturally and instinctively to me, I want to hone my skills and work towards mastery.

So what happens if you are in need of someone who is not going to even think of voicing a solution but is killing the strong and silent thang… then find that person.

Create the circle, create your own village.

I have one friend who talks nineteen to the dozen, I can barely get a word in edgewise and she is not someone that I am going to go to when I really need and want to be heard about soulful shit!  But I adore her company, she is light and engaging and kind and funny and zingy and all sorts of wondrousness…… she is very much a part of my circle and I need that energy in my life. Imagine if everyone in my life was an intense as me?! Insanity!

Now imagine if I made her wrong for being that way… imagine if I said to her ‘you never really listen to me’, ‘I don’t think you are being sensitive to my needs’, ‘please could you reflect back to me my words so that I really know you have heard me’…. I believe it would crush her and it would certainly crush our friendship. I would be trying to mould her into something that really doesn’t fit in her skin, trying to create her into something else whereas I could simply be accepting and enjoying all the gifts that she does bring.

Of course this doesn’t mean we can’t ask for what we need, consider each other’s perspectives and feelings and reflect on our own behaviour, but within that there is a place to see whether our specific needs of the moment are going to be best met and by whom. I once asked a friend, who had gone silent on my for 6 weeks, that if next time she was pissed with me she could just tell me about it rather than hit the mute button; she told me in no uncertain terms that I shouldn’t ask her to change or be different. Fair enough, she was not going to meet my needs or requirements in that side of our friendship. That was actually a deal breaker for me, I do need my circle to be upfront and clear about when I’ve done something to upset them, and I chose to walk away from that friendship for that reason, but that wasn’t about making either of us wrong, just that we weren’t a good fit.

I used to ask too much of my husband (perhaps still do!) under this principle of ‘he who must be able to support every which side of me’… until I realised what absurdity this truly was. I started to widen my circle and increase the array and variety of friendships, mentors and crazys who help all my facets sparkle as I hope I do in return. And with this choice, there is the potential to free my husband from feeling like somehow he is failing me, or not enough for me, and instead allows his own highlights to shimmer.

I would love to see this embracing of each other’s gifts and strengths replacing the homogenising pressure that social media is trying to instil through shame directed memes and articles.  Yes, walk away from those who don’t support you, whilst being careful not to dismiss those that might not be what you need for right now yet their gifts and skills might be everything to you come tomorrow, the new moon or the new decade. We are all personally responsible for seeking out our own joy, friendship and healing rather than insisting it is performed for us by the demands we set on others. Let each of us shine and glorify each other and celebrate the magical complexities of human nature. We are not wrong, we are just different.

I’ll Always Worry

Twice this week, I have had comments laid at my feet that somehow my expression of mother concern is ‘too much’.

Now I agree that helicopter / smothering mummy is not a good look, nor indeed a healthy option, but judging a mama for being a mama…. now that’s just insanity.

I am always going to worry if my kids have got the right clothes when the weather changes and I’m not there. I am always going to worry that these fragile dynamics of friendships, as they twist and turn into their own unique beings, are upsetting or hurting them. I am always going to worry whether they are getting the right balance of nutrition as I insist on chicken broth and treat them with ice cream.  I am always going to worry about those times when I said ugly words or shouted too loud, that perhaps broke them a little. I am always going to worry if I’m doing the best for my children, holding strong boundaries and gifting freedom of spirit.

It’s my job.

I’m a mama.

So please don’t tell me to relax, or step back or any of those casual utterances that seem to belittle my role. Because more than anything, you don’t see how much I hold my tongue when they tell me about the kid at school who slaps or whispers; how I look at their naked limbs in the icy wind and remind myself that it’s their body; or how much guilt I feel for not knowing what I know now!

You do not see how much I let them go when I ache to hold them tight; that I find ways to help them explore risk and adventure when my heart is beating hard in my throat.

And when I spew my anxieties out it’s in order to clear them from my energy so that I can return to them with calm, thoughtfulness and courage.

I have worried myself into some awesome choices and discoveries as a mother. My worries have pushed me to find the hidden solution, the alternative avenue and the unique path that is creating my family.

But more than anything, these crazy, wonderful beings grew in my tummy (and even if they hadn’t), blew my world and my mind wide open to the glorious intensity of mother love and I am proud to worry about them; excited to have the responsibility of their blossoming souls; and utterly & blissfully surrendered to the knowledge that they will be front and foremost in my mind and heart for the very rest of my days.

I’ll always worry and I make no apologies for that. I have been blessed with this extraordinary job of mother and worrying is  just one small and important part of a truly magnificent whole.

Seeing Love

I advocate passionately & reverently for the resurrection of our ancient wisdom supported by modern research of neurological development; together these detail how responding to the animalistic, biological and psychological needs of our children is integral, not only to their own solid emotional, spiritual & physical health, but also to forming the foundations of a healthy society.

Everything I write about, read about, talk about, dream about draws back to this core. The requirements that reach beyond basic survival and into the depths of humanity and soul.

So I am hyper aware of the impact of my own behaviours and ancestral baggage on myself as a parent, friend, wife and therapist. I could read nuances into each word or facial reaction; I could demand that the circle around my family be restricted to only those conscious of their own wounds; I could attempt to micromanage each and every influence that enters my domain. This would all be very understandable when my heart understands the subtle ramifications that can come from the slightest tremor.

Of course this would also likely lead me to the edge of insanity, trying to control the world and environment to a place of perfection; on top of which it is hardly a good model for my children, friends or clients to ape resilience, compassion, growth, personal choice, understanding and a gazillion other amazing qualities that come from meeting conflicting ideas or ideology.

But what really hit home to me today, was that most of all I would miss seeing love in all its forms. It’s so easy to believe love comes in the form that I feel and express it in, but love is offered in a myriad of weird and wonderful ways that can only be found by opening our heart to the intention with which things are brought.

When I read articles detailing how one is supposed to be a ‘true friend’ or a ‘modern partner’, for example: don’t offer advice unless it is asked for; respect my boundaries at all times; don’t use emotionally sensitive language without first checking for permission; don’t use physical touch without explicit approval….

This…. this drives me batty. If I took all this on board I would be have to be the worst ever friend. Except I’m not. I’m a good friend and I frequently offer advice without first checking because that is one of my primary ways to show and express my love (Acts of Service). I am able, mostly, to perceive if my advice is unwanted and shut up, but not everyone is and yet they might still be offering the very depths of their love. Other people might smother people with hugs and kisses when actually space is wanted; perhaps there are friends that come and tidy up your house leaving you feeling a bit slovenly in their company; others can be effusive with their words, showering you with compliments and affirmations that to you feel hollow and meaningless; another might buy you a gift when all you really wanted was them not to cancel the plans.

It is so so so easy to see the worst in people rather than the best. It is so easy to miss love.

Do I want my world to be a microcosm of connected, joyful and loving intention? Absolutely. Is that going to be reflected if I limit that to just those that follow my form? Boundaries are important, safety is important but should they come at the expensive of seeing the true depths of someone’s heart and intention? Isn’t this world crying out for more love not less?

Today I offered my love to someone and it was utterly rejected, it wasn’t in the right form for them and they reacted to it negatively rather than positively, and I thought of all those people in the world that are getting shouted down, shut down or ignored for showing love in the ‘wrong way’. Awareness, consciousness and growth are beautiful potentials that bloom more powerfully when wrapped in compassion, forgiveness and understanding.

Yesterday, I told off my eldest for yabbering to my youngest when he had so clearly asked for space and quiet, today I see how she was just offering love….

Today I am seeing love.

Our Achilles

Yesterday, I watched the podcast between Russell Brand and Brene Brown and loved it, of course. 

Totally my thing, discussions on vulnerability and spirituality, boundaries of steel and the state of our global society. Meaningful, heartfelt, humourous and enlightening. 

I was nodding happily along to it all right up until the last five minutes when Russell asked Brene’s advice on parenting. And then I was thrown. 

I was thrown, not only because Brene’s advice was so contrary to my own views (and that is totally ok btw, this is not a judgement conversation) but because her philosophy to parenting seemed so opposed to the rest of her OWN philosophy. 

Let me extrapolate, my understanding of her work on vulnerability and shame can also be looked at through the lens of control. Vulnerability being the release of control and shame protection being all about control.  And yet here I was hearing Brene recommend what she called ‘choice parenting’ or Choice Theory. The principle of which is to give the children a choice to make…  the basic premise being to continue with their ‘unacceptable’ behaviour and face a consequence OR stop.

Again, I want to hold this discussion without judgement but as a musing of ideas. 

I frequently use choice with my kids but with certain differences. Occasionally I use it because something is non negotiable usually to do with physical or emotional safety. More often than not I use it to get my own way, for example ‘please close your mouth whilst your eating or I will have to take away your ice cream’. This is control. 

I know it, I recognise it and I really really try not to do it because ultimately I am inflicting my utterly subjective values on someone else. Another important element to this principle is age appropriateness and development, what age are children able to understand and rationalise choice? When I heard Brene discuss constructive choice offers with wayward teens, there may still be  background (and necessary?) control but I get that it can create immediate mediation and lead to thoughtful discussions. However when suggesting offering a choice to a tantrum-ing 2/3 year old – calm down or we leave the restaurant, I baulk. That is not a choice a small person can make fairly nor is it in anyway modelling vulnerability. 

With the very best of intentions, work and graft, I moderate my feelings to be thoughtful and kind but when I get utterly overwhelmed by life’s happenings they sometime go awry. Sometimes I lose my temper, sometimes I’m just a bit grouchy and snappy. I have ‘a choice’ in how I express these yet frequently my thinking choice is retrospective, it comes after the event (I blame my Italian ancestry and Scorpio birth alignment – I maybe just a touch fiery at times!). When my feelings overwhelm me, I make a point of reflecting on them, being vulnerable about their root cause and making amends. Because I’m human and flawed and that’s ok. 

Now if I, as a fully qualified and fairly reasonable adult, have moments of overwhelm, what can we expect of our little ones? Sure they may need to be taken out of a restaurant for a cuddle and calm down, to help them re centre and restore their spirit, but isn’t the ‘choice’ of removing them permanently, as a consequence of being totally vulnerable, not only punishing and shaming but also almost impossible for them to process?!?

Do you feel the contradiction like I do? 

But this isn’t about making Brene wrong because she and I are both making parenting choices from our very best intentions despite our differences. It’s about our Achilles Heel. 

It about the fact that we all have one; we can be so utterly clever and kind and wise and human and also make choices that contradict ourselves, are incongruent, flawed and bizarre. 

I didn’t come away from this podcast thinking less of Brene (although I did yearn to speak to Russell about my perspective too!), I actually came away thinking more of her. She became more relatable and more real to me and absolutely more attainable as a vision for myself. 

I don’t have any academic qualifications (zip, nada, none) so I am easily cowed to believe that I have nothing to validate my viewpoint or opinion, despite instinctively feeling that actually I have some cool things to share. 

Watching the podcast yesterday reminded me that it’s not about the degrees and letters after the name but simply about the conversation, Achilles and all.

So let’s keep talking… 

The Voice of Reason

In a recent discussion with a therapist it was suggested that I was, at times, too reasonable(!). Not only that, but by being too reasonable I was actually hurting myself. 

My husband raised his eyebrows when I told him this, clearly he did not agree! 

But I have been sitting with it; churning it over in my mind and of course as a result I have had the most unreasonable couple of weeks I could ever have imagined. 

Everyone and everything has felt desperately unreasonable. 

One days notice from a teacher at school that the cake ingredients rules have changed as I prepare for my child’s birthday. Unreasonable. 

Car insurers wanting me to provide information that they know better than me. Unreasonable. 

My child wetting the bed twice in one night. Unreasonable. 

My babysitter cancelling a two month standing booking less than a week before. Unreasonable. 

The resident permit zone being arbitrarily changed so that our property is no longer granted a permit. Un-bloody-reasonable. 

And then there’s the bigger stuff… 

  • the school mum throwing her unmet needs in my face 
  • my husband having a ‘moment’ and wondering if I’m really the right one (yes that happened!)
  • my mother refusing to take any accountability for her behaviour 

These are the bigger life hurdles when someone else’s choices can feel so utterly and desperately unreasonable and yet I am very good at making them reasonable. I am very good at looking behind the gauze and finding the reasons, the pain, the whys and the because; and understanding why everyone’s behaviour or choices are the way they are. 

A good skill? Compassionate? Able to hold the bigger picture? 

I need to segue a moment… when my friend Kim was dying, we talked about the emotional trauma that may have contributed to her illness. Kim was utterly reasonable. She always found a way to walk on a higher plain, she didn’t want to stoop to the level of those who had wounded her so deeply. And that is so honourable and so ‘right’, right? Except that all that justifiable anger and pain stayed inside and perhaps it is what killed her… 

So I have sat with my flair of fire, this rage of witnessing the unreasonable and I have held it in conflict with my desire to be so thoughtful and measured and kind. 

And then I exploded. 

My husband lit the touch paper and I vomited out my rage at all the holding I do for everyone else’s ‘unreasonable’ choices. 

And he held me there. 

He held me there when I poured out my anger, my grief and my own unreasonable demands. 

And he listened, and he heard me. And for the very first time, I felt safe. 

It is the hardest thing in the world to hold someone in their pain, just hold them, not fix them, not wrong them, not right them or join them. But just to listen and be with that flow of emotions. And I love him more than ever for being courageous enough to do so. 

Because sometimes the emotionally healthy thing to be is utterly unreasonable. 

I needed that exorcism as part of my own healing and now I am calm again and able to bear the weight of all of life’s reasons…. 

Radiant Glory

I am struggling with the continued dialogue around the toxic masculine predator.  Whilst I agree that consent needs to be clear (though hopefully without killing every last vestige of romance and spontaneity), I believe there is a place for female accountability too. 

I have stood as a disempowered woman who has said ‘No’, provided the body language of discomfort and rigidity and not been heard or respected. I have had a man’s hand at my throat for not fulfilling his needs; I have said ‘no more’ to the boyfriend I was leaving but he still took more; I have walked away from too many situations feeling unclean, unhappy and abused. And I have had a part to play in that dynamic occurring. 

Yes there are the rare but horrifying psychopaths whose terror we would have no control over, but so many of the ‘me too’ stories are women asking for men to define the scenario, to be respectful, healthy, wholesome no matter what they are confronted with. We are again giving away our power by asking them to be solely responsible for holding women safely. 

We are asking for men to be brought up to respect women, to do things differently, but why aren’t we asking for women to make this change too? In every relationship dynamic, we can never expect our opposite to make the change, we have to create the change for ourselves and perhaps they might follow our shining example! 

Why have we been meeting film directors in their hotel rooms, instead of insisting on a space we are comfortable with? Why do we choose to drink away our inhibitions at frat parties? Why did I stay in the room when I ended a relationship, after I had said ‘no’ to one more time? Why did I not get up at leave, why did I not set my boundaries clearly, why did I not honour and respect myself enough to do what I needed to keep me safe? 

We are asking men to respect us, but do we respect ourselves? When do we say ‘No’ with clarity, strength and follow through. I’m not talking about the ‘life in danger’ scenarios, I’m talking about the every day abuses that I hear women happy to rage about but refuse to take accountability for. Yes men have their work to do, but so do women.  Should a man take advantage of a inebriated woman, absolutely not. Should a women be inebriated in a circle of people she is not safe with? Are we treating ourselves with respect as we stumble and slur? Are we treating ourselves with respect when we stay with a misogynist boss for the sake of our career?  I can hear the thousands of excuses being hurled at me as I write this, the shunning of blame straight back to the men, the justifications for staying when your body was screaming to leave, the fears. I hear them all, I acknowledge them all, I honour them all AND still there is space to take back our power for ourselves, not from men but from the ether where we left it. We don’t need to lord over the masculine, we simply need to claim back the feminine in all its powerful and radiant glory. 

Robert Moore lectured to the effect that the uninitiated man becomes an unwise aggressor and the uninitiated woman a victim. 

Initiation (the supported process of shifting the psyche from child to adult) helped me find my strength, my clarity, my respect and my ‘No’. Not since my initiation have I encountered these myriad dynamics of abuse that I previously encountered daily, because my energy and perspective has shifted so significantly. It is in my power to deign to let myself become victim or instead to hold compassion for those who act out their wounds and place my boundaries firmly between us. 

I will endeavour to raise my son to be a man of self respect and my daughter to be a woman of self respect. I know that if I achieve these aims, they will mirror that respect out into the world through their actions, words and deeds. That is also the choice I make for myself. 

I stand in my power and say and act ‘No’ when I need. That is enough. 

Like for Like

When I was a teenager, my mother and I would get into vitriolic arguments, on a not infrequent basis, and I remember very clearly reaching a place where I said to myself ‘I will not let her see how much she hurts me’.  I quickly learned how to respond to pain with a cold, hard exterior. 

She was no longer able to see the effects of her words and actions on my soul, as much as they still wounded me internally.  I felt more protected, safe and in control when my shutters came down and I could bat away the slights. 

I needed to do that then, I didn’t have any other tools and it was a question of emotional survival. But during the recent weeks of upheaval in my relationship, I have realised how ingrained that technique is in my psyche and how disconnecting and triggering it has been to my partner. 

As my awareness on this grows, I’ve noticed how many people hold similar traits, how natural our defensive hard stances are in response to perceived attack. I observe how the current representation of feminism seems to echo this too. Our societal responses are cold, hard and super boundaried. 

And I get it, I haven’t been cold and hard to my partner because he’s an innocent bystander, we have created a dynamic between us that ping-pongs back and forth between our defence mechanisms. It is understandable that we have wanted to protect ourselves, sometimes from real threat, more often from projected theories, but it has not helped us to grow, to learn and discover our heartfelt truths. 

In these past weeks when I’ve been unable to even pretend to protect my raw feelings, when my heart has been cracked open, I have also been seen and witnessed with restorative love and gentleness. As my defences fell, so it allowed the whole structure of defences between us to crumble and for total vulnerability, total truth, to be revealed and explored. 

The mirror of our souls is a tenant of my belief, that like reflects like, but that is easily forgotten when it feels so natural to create protection from harm. If my walls are up, I may be safe but I am also disconnected, so it becomes a choice to risk the pain, risk the vulnerability, in order to have the chance for a more magnificent life than one that is simply safe. 

Our Natural State

My husband and I are in the very midst of ironing out some of the bumps and grooves that appear in any long term relationship. To add to the fun, we are both in our early forties and hitting that developmental stage (yes, adults have them too!) aka ‘ the midlife crisis’ where all of our childhood wounds pop up with varying stages of intensity, to be faced and dealt with. To top it off, we are just through the very very early years of parenting, which is just one big fog, and now that the kids are at school there is space to face the shit. 

It sucks. It’s hard.  And mostly it is bloody painful. I think I have cried more in the last 3 weeks than I have in the last 10 years. And with this ironing, unpicking, rebuilding and connecting there have been some sweet and tender times, a second honeymoon of sensitivity and kindness. But mostly it hurts, just like any wounds do. We are digging out the detritus that has been left in over the years, the bits causing sores and infections, cleaning them out and suturing them up. 

So whilst I have swung between grief, rage, love, hope, fear and happiness like some sort of rollercoaster on hyper drive, my grounding has been the understanding that our natural state is love. 

This is the state we come into the world, pure love. 

So when my own or someone else’s behaviour, actions or words appear unloving or hurtful, my faith in humanity and our core state, helps me to understand that these come from a wounding that needs to heal. That our natural state of love is our instinctive place to wish to return to and our intentions are drawn from there. It is so easy to hear and be the worst of things, to use anger and coldness as a crutch for survival, but true connection, true living can only come from love; no matter how much it might hurt to get there. 

A Ruthless Mirror

Recently the bickering of my kids has been driving me a little demented. Hearing the impatience retorts, and unsympathetic reactions that then spiral into fisticuffs and cruel words, triggers me something rotten. 

So I hear myself saying all sorts of unhelpful snaps: ‘stop!’; ‘be kind!’; ‘there will be consequences if you continue!’. And then they look at me square in the face, deaf to my protests. 

And I know why.

Everything that I accuse them of, I am guilty of myself. Am I patient with their needs and issues? Often not, I am too frequently distracted by the next need of meals, or school runs or crazy head thoughts; I judge their problems of colouring pens or space or choice of game to be of lesser value than my preoccupation and I respond with sighs and frustration. 

Am I kind? Oh yes, lots of the time I am but not when I am pushed and tired, then I can be careless with my words and energy and hurtful with my reactions. But somehow I am expecting my kids to be above that. They ‘should’ be better at controlling those bitchy words age 8 and 6, seeing as I’ve got it handled aged 41. Not! 

Am I generous? With all of the things I have plenty of then I am super generous, but I know I can horde and snuffle away my precious and less abundant treasures, including my time and attention.  

Am I violent? Never. Well never with my fists or feet, but I can carry the violence of energy in my huffs and silences when hurting. Just like them. 

So I recognise this ruthless, searingly honest mirror of my children.  I know that the trigger, the unbearable bickering, is my lesson to walk through. 

I said to my husband yesterday, I have used my will power to overcome so many obstacles in my life, to change patterns and habits that have been destroying me. I have cured myself of eating disorders, quit addictive substances, abandoned my self harming, walked away from abusive relationships, all through the power of my own choice and determination.

Yet this space, where I know that it is ‘I’ who needs to model the change I wish to see. ‘I’ need to offer more patience, kindness and generosity so that my children have that reflection in their mirror of learning. If I am triggered, it is my issue to work through, not theirs to force into submission. 

But I am finding it astoundingly hard. I want to make it their fault, I want to make them wrong for not being able to work through their issues with calm and resolve. I want to abdicate all the responsibility of being their guide because otherwise I have to face the fact that I’ve still got to dig deep for some strength to create change in myself so that my children have a role model I can be proud of. 

I have done well for children and I have conquered many mountains to give them a start in life that they and the world deserve.  And this is the next station on my journey, uncovering the source of my trigger, to free us all for our next destination.