Undeserving

What an interesting concept.  “DESERVE”.  I cannot help but cringe each time I hear this word thrown about.  Maybe as a person who grew up feeling confused about being both entitled and unworthy, I remain disturbed by this language.  Now, after nearly a decade of spiritual recovery and soul work–this is what I think I know:

All people deserve kindness, love, truth, connection.  Today’s sermon focused on grace, gratitude, and service.  I noticed myself physically reacting each time I heard the word “deserve”.  It has been my consistent experience that those who believe in their own deserving also believe similarly in their right to punish and judge.  This way of believing removes all possibility of Grace.  Reflecting on the damage of the hurricane and hardships of people offered pointed reminders that good fortune no more is a symptom of personal goodness than misfortune is badness.  I descend from long lines of people who are unapologetically  vocal with their beliefs of what they and others do and do not deserve.  To  me, this thinking seems void of God and Higher Power, very selfY.  It feels scary.

As I acknowledge the undeniable love of my friends, children, and Sweet Greg, I am deeply aware that they do not love me because I have earned or deserved it.  They love me because loving is what they do.  I feel the love of them wanting what is good and best for me, celebrating my triumphs and mourning my losses with me.  Believing in why and how they love me, frees me from the myth that I(or others) earn abuse, betrayal, cruelty, or lies.  People do what they do, say what they say, are how and who they are, independently of me.

The teachings of discipleship are something we will learn in church.  An opportunity to be re-parented with opportunities to practice serving God and others– because.  Just because, this is the life we are meant for.  We are graced by this place, of like hearted people who choose to live and practice love in this way.  Discipleship.  Deeply entrenched in our unchurchedness, we may never fully internalize certain parts of the “Stories” of Christianity… we can still learn from the life of Jesus and witness in awe, the badassery of his fierce dedication to loving, loving the marginalized, outcast and needy, full of courage and grace, and an example worth following, better than any human ever could be.

This song is part of the weekly service and it literally grips my heart and I can barely breathe as I listen and read the words.  All I ever wanted from my mother and family, and so completely the opposite of my teachings and beliefs about my place on this earth and within my family.  This is truth and love.  I believe.  I am loved.  I belong.  Big space to anyone suggesting otherwise.  I continue practicing forgiving, from over here.  I deserve the peace that comes with letting go and forgiving and keeping myself safe from unwholesome and unkind words and deeds.   I lack the resilience required to let those things roll from my back and pretend as if they are not real or hurtful.  Plus, I deserve better.  100%.

 

 

Supporting Gay Tweens- Even when they are not “yours”

Last week my older son was initiated by a new neighbor boy, whom we do not know—even a little.  This neighbor decided to “come out” via text message, to my son, who is age 11.  When my son was kind and texted “Ok, but be careful who you tell because people might be mean to you or beat you up for that.  I understand people are born this way and it is ok”, the neighbor, whom I will call Frederick, took that as a green light to pursue my son.  He continued texting him–but only about “gayness”.  Laser focused on this singular topic.

When my son did not tell him to bug off or keep it to himself, he took it a step further and began detailing his crush on a boy in their science class and then proceeded to ask my son “Are you gay?  Do you like me? You have to be honest and tell me” .  Now, my son and this child have never spent time together aside from one week of waiting at the bus stop, never discussed any common interests or normal getting to know you convos.  And yet, Frederick prefaced his sharing with, “I want to tell you something because we are good enough friends and I need you to promise not to tell anyone.”

I count my lucky stars that my sweet son came to me directly and promptly. I explained that telling me was the right thing to do but telling anyone else would be harmful.  We do not keep secrets in this family– but we can be trusted with things shared in confidence.  My son is mature enough to grasp and value  this. He expressed that “this” made him feel icky and anguished.  Boy, am I blessed to have recovery to help me support his walk through this– without encouraging retaliating or retreating…because WE(my lil family) have learned a third way.  The spiritual way.  We can express and hold healthy boundaries.  He asked (via text) Frederick to not bring up gayness anymore then decided to take it a step further and said “Please do not talk to me anymore”.  My son is concerned that IT will persist and he has also expressed confusion about the fact that he feels fearful/ kind of obsessed.  I was able to share with him that it felt bad and heavy because he was violated.  His gut is informing him:  danger danger beware.  And the gut message is  one to be listened to.  Frederick is not dangerous for his gayness, but for his lack of knowing how to navigate safely and with respect for others.  That is not his fault, but it is still unsafe for another child whom also does not know and is not ready.

If my son and Frederick had an existing friendship and Frederick shared that he was gay, that would be different.  If they were 16 and Frederick shared or initiated, that would be different.  Their age and their affiliation is not appropriate for this interaction—and now there is no current possibility for  friendship, because Frederick, young, desperate, not knowing, took it too far.  I have advised my son to be polite only.  Say good morning at the bust stop and then get into a book or his phone…There is a way to be not friends and also non-enemies.  My family did not get or teach me this.  My ex husband’s family also does not see life this way.  Zero-sum all the way.

But WE, we get this and Frederick is one lucky soul that he pulled this with my son who will do no harm and cast no shame or shadow on him.  That a person like me, with a family like my own, can guide my son this way is nothing short of a miracle.  I hope Frederick finds the support he needs as much as I hope he leaves my son alone.  I am so grateful my son trusted and shared with me completely– and that we were able to do this together. Rather than trying to remind him constantly to trust himself and do right, I will use the message board to say what I think needs to be said and remembered.  I do not care if my son is gay or not but I do care that he discuss these things with only trusted others, when it feels right and safe for him.  And even if he is or might be–Being gay is not reason enough to be friends.  I was also able to remind him that he does not ever need to feel as if he must disclose to anyone what or whom he likes.

I am certain I have not done this perfectly.  and I am also certain that for now I have done right by my son and this child, in spite of having lived life that would have directed me otherwise.  Comments and advice are welcome—Just click the picture to my IG page and get in touch there.

It is Not that I Don’t Care..

People have expressed to me, their sense, that I do not care what others think.  This is UNtrue.  I make no efforts to control what others think or how they feel about me.  That is not my job.  If a person does not care for me, that is not a problem (until they decide to punish me), it just means we are not for each other.  I would surely prefer if everyone applauded my decisions and methods, but that is unrealistic and counter to my striving to live authentically, with honest and transparent boundaries(for myself)– which support self care, personal growth and my own well-being.  

This truth and freedom are offered to me by my program of recovery. Many people do not yet understand that recovery is not only for those with obvious and overt addictions to substances, sex, shopping, gambling, food…. Mine, is a program of recovery, for those struggling to recover from abusive relationships, typically with the mentally unwell or addicted person.  For the sake of my blog and journey, abuse is: behavior of others which harms, betrays, diminishes, or disrespects another.  Sustained entanglement in an abusive dynamic can result in trauma and depression(mental unwellness, sometimes temporarily relieved by addictive behaviors)- which require recovery OR denial (offloading or numbing pain instead of healing it).  I choose recovery.  For people who choose power, rightness, and denial, I am definitely not their cup of tea and they are not mine.  It is not a war, just a fact…until attacks begin- typically underhanded–the silent kill shots are the worst, the highly visible ones, to which nobody objects, are equally deadly. (more…)

For the Love

I never get tired of seeing or sharing this image.

As the beginning of another school year– at new schools, rapidly approaches, I imagine and worry dream for my sons– the possibilities that lay ahead.  Of course, I want them to thrive academically and even socially, but more than this, I want them to feel deeply connected to something bigger than themselves, their peers, and especially even their parents(and families of origin).  My hope is that they are more spiritually striving than socially.  (It will offer a more honest and comforting existence.  Oh please.)  We (parents and blood relations) are small and broken examples of how to be in the world, in ways that are too often, far from wholesome and nurturing.  How I wished we had church in our lives.  As I read the wisdom and hopes of Jen Hatmaker, Bob Goff, Glennon Doyle, Brene Brown, I am taking copious notes-no guarantee that they will manifest into immediate and sustainable action.  But still.

Notes for myself and my children:

Hurt kids make easy targets. And cowards, both bully and look the other way. Please let us stand between the abusers and the abused.  Let us refuse to silently watch one person break another down.  Say “no”. Say “leave them alone”.  Do not look away.  The tiniest scrap of hope is enough to save a hurt and lonely person from drowning.

Let us be safe and kind and gentle to all others–to be tender and empathetic.  I pray for your kindness more than your success.  How we love all people is the highest measure of our character.  Well behaved and kind are not the same.  And often bravery and kindness do not take the form of well behaved.  Be brave.  Above all else be kind and loving—unconditionally.  Let’s do this!

Develop eyes for pain.   See hurt people.  Offer them kindness with your eyes, words, or actions.   Please, let’s learn and commit to this as a way of being.  Kindness is the height of bravery.  It is difficult and awkward and feels risky–asking someone struggling, and on the outside,  “What’s up” or if they want to sit with you or what book they are reading.  We can do this.  We can do hard things.  I love you so much, but not always so well.  I am learning too!

 

Because Obviously

A program friend recently asked me if I out my sister  to punish her, and cautioned me against it—because that(punishing) would be bad for my recovery (not out of regard for her).  I share what happens because finally, I can and I must.  Fortunately, what I have to share is observable, undeniable action/behavior, witnessed by my sons and nieces and even my sister herself, not relative, at all.   I do not imagine or cause the overt acts of betrayal and disloyalty.   And– as my boys get older and may one day want clarity about what was going on with me/us, it will be here– where I share my experience of it.  It is a privilege and a duty to exercise rigorous honesty and– my recovery is hinged to sharing—all of the stuff.

Since public appearances are prized by her, and this is unfavorable behavior; I leverage that.  If knowledge of her choices and values causes discomfort, it is not the sharing part, that needs changing.  I am certain she will offer a million justifications for why she must and can and should.  Right things do not ever need justification.  This, all because I unapologetically expressed an honest and clear boundary.

Disrupting our co-parenting and family, and robbing our sons of innocence is a sin against them.   Requiring children to dissociate is not the choice of a kind and happy person.  Her dark and demanding presence, insistence on hugs, the pretending required by my boys…all of it is vile.  This is where I get to state my objection.

My ex-husband laughed heartily, literally roared, when I asked him to step back until we (my mother and sister) worked it out.  My ex declared, with something not unlike maniacal pleasure, how my mother and sister had zero intent of making things right between us.  In foolish disbelief, I went directly to my mother…who confirmed for me the truth of what he said.  Ouch!

I can only imagine the exchanges between them, that led him to his insight.  My sons exposure to the unwholesomeness of this alliance is tragic.  My powerlessness to protect my little guys makes me angry AF.

Apparently my sister (hate to use that word) hosted another dinner for my ex, his father, and my sons this weekend…spent the evening fawning over him, over his basic lettuce, tomato, carrot salad…so amaaaaazing (as disclosed with horror, by my sons). And she is reported to have suggested  more than a few times, how they MUST get together next time– at his house. STOP.  Barf!

The most disturbing thing about this, is that I can fully envision myself, before recovery, being exactly this spiteful and vindictive and feeling completely entitled, victorious, and intoxicated by my indisputable rightness.  It is true.

I am a work in progress.  I am powerless over this.  It is difficult to witness my boys being used and confused—by family, in the name of love.  Especially by someone always wearing only white, always smiling, laughing awkwardly, tryunuh hug up on my boys and ex while claiming love.  Lord, help us all.  Because, obviously….

Then I wonder…am I defending my sharing?  Nah,  I don’t think so.  This blog is more like an ongoing fourth step, where I examine all of my own ickyness.

But it is a party and we are family.  C’mon.  It is love!

On Forgiving

Daily, I feel tormented by the notion that if I were JUST  less sensitive and more forgiving we could be a happy healthy family.  But this, THIS is the lie-the myth of the scapegoat and the messaging of abusers.  Intense sensitivity is something, that as an adult, I have learned to understand, accept, and to accommodate without shame.  My mental wellness requires that I offer space to anyfuckenbody who judges sensitivity and uses it as an excuse to be unkind–shaming.  I do regret that I had nobody to teach me this sooner.  Self acceptance, preservation, kindness to myself and to others—these things, they were first introduced to me as a 40 something woman, in recovery.  And I forgive myself for not knowing what I didn’t know, before I knew it and I forgive myself for not accepting poor treatment as the price of membership for a club to which I clearly do not belong.  And I forgive myself for not being able to forgive before I am able. (more…)

Like-hearted

As only a witness to perfectionism, it seems that trying to be perceived as perfect is the exact opposite of this. I dunno. Just saaayin. Naaahm saayin?

Over the past decade, I have become very clear on my lack of desire to surround myself with likeminded people, so much as I do those whom are like-hearted.  In fact, it would be terrifying to be surrounded by like-minded others. YIKES  In recovery, we call our like-heartedness, unity of purpose, which makes it possible to genuinely want to help and support each other.   What I mean– is that quality of life for me, is elevated by those who believe and practice the same static life principles as I do.   Greg and I are such an unlikely match by all of my old measures.  But we do share a unique like-heartedness.

Greg is naturally more gentle, patient, and willing than I am. (In truth, this could be said of even of the most mature toddler.)  Still, Greg and I have highly compatible operating instructions.  Nothing about the ways in which either of us operate, emotionally, socially, or morally, are troublesome to the other.  We do not pretend, defend, or deny anything–and our greatest sources of laughter, connection, made up words and nick-names, stem from our own foibles, our shared humanity, our desire to learn and expand together(not identically but compatibly).  We call ourselves out, so that we can collectively laugh and learn–again, together.  We each guard and police only our own behaviors.  Okay, sometimes we do monitor and supervise each other, but we do so openly and with apology and laughter.   THIS is my first relationship in which defense is not part of the norm…because we each value being connected, more than being right or better than.  Most of our jokes are about being right and blaming others for our own misconduct.

Those who value or demand perfection more than they do growth and connection, are toxic to me.  I can do better each day, in fact that is my life’s purpose.  But– perfection seems undeniably tethered to shame, fear, guilt, power, and often dishonesty.  To me, perfection focuses more on appearance of how things are rather than how they actually are(Perfection is not, at all, the same as healthy striving).  And the perfection vibe drives, in me, intense spiritual  and physical unwellness. (more…)

Are We Good?

I cannot figure out how to rotate this and make it stay. But he is just as cute sideways.
I love that he has his own little house retreat. He is so talented to be able to lay sideways in it.

Nearly every night between 1 and 4 a.m. , this guy wakes me up to let me know that he needs to go potty.  But, if I get up to let him out, I will not fall back  to sleep.  Instead, I will lay awake agonizing over things which upset me and I will be wrecked for the next day.  So naturally, he takes care of business  and returns to bed.  Then, in the morning when I do get up, he either slinks directly to his kennel or walks down slowly and crouching looking at me asking with his sweet Baby Seal eyes “Are we good?”.  I cannot be angry or punitive with him.  I mean I could, but if he tells me he needs to go and I don’t do my part, what am I to expect?  I realize there are effective training tactics or adjusting food and water schedule & access, which might help.  And until I am ready to initiate those with consistency, it is unfair to punish him.  Anxious and ashamed people and animals do not exercise their finest behaviors.

I am permissive with our dogs, possibly because I relate to having inconvenient needs of my own.  But our pets do not belong to me–  They, like my children, have been entrusted to me– and no matter what, we belong to each other and together.  I catch myself becoming irrationally irritated over dog or age appropriate behaviors of those for whom I am responsible.  The truth is I feel bothered only because, in the moment, the needs or demands seem inconvenient or disruptive to my own self-obsessed thinking.

I admit that I have been guilty of attempting to shame my dogs and children out of behaviors that vex me.  Shaming is such a damaging and bullshit move.   I can do better for them.  One day at a time.  I am a work in progress.

We are good, little guys.  We belong to each other.  No matter what.  Always.

Stand Your Ground

In recovery, I am reminded consistently that we are never  victims.  This does not mean that people do not intentionally victimize and persecute others, but that we do have choices about how we respond.  All choices may be highly undesirable, none the less, they are choices.  Like going to a crummy restaurant where you hate evereeeeything on the menu.  Every single thing. (more…)

It Might Just Suck

I do not suck, sometimes my behavior does–but THIS- this alllllwaaaaays sucks.  Today is a hard day.  I wake up every single day, so painfully aware and deeply affected by the state of my family.  I recognize that I do not cause or imagine the dysfunction- and that I alone, cannot repair it.  Intellectually and spiritually, I accept this– it is what it is.  However, acceptance of circumstances does not block me from the emotional pain of having been treated poorly, openly diminished and then discarded.  Repeatedly and consistently.  I intend to never get used to it.  Hopefully, I will continue to get better at not placing myself in this familiar dynamic.  We learn what we live and do what we know.  Unlearning–as fast as I am able and dead center in the middle of another lesson.

My boys asked me if I thought my mother would leave me anything when she dies.  All I can respond with is :  “I don’t know”.  I suspect she may leave me in the state of pain that she sees as my due.   Of course, it would be nice if her final statement to me and about me to the world, could be one of kindness.  Every day– all of the days, slowly-this kills me.

Young hurt lil Magda, still needing a mama, believes this is proof of her unworthiness.  Adult me, in recovery, knows it is evidence only of the sickness in our family.  I can learn, grow, and know all I want– and still not one damn thing will ever make this not hurt.  I may never get my head around the idea of choosing not speaking to one of my children.  Or aligning with one of them, or aligning with any person at all, against one of my sons.

I will never stop longing.  The heart wants what the heart wants.  My sweet sons continue to foot the bill for my struggle to make peace with this-to move on-get it behind me.  The best I can do, is to remind them frequently and explicitly of how wanted and loved they are, AND that they do not cause or imagine any of this.  It is a painful mess.  I suffer from depression and anxiety, not from them.

Sadness