I have many miracles to share from our Christmas and New Year’s. But for today, I am sharing information which I find immensely comforting, because even in times of joy and peace, I am haunted, at a cellular level,
by what I continue to experience with my mother and sister. Recovery is a process-as much to unlearn as to learn. Sharing is a large part of my process and a great filter, as it weeds out those who are unsupportive: not an asset to my recovery. The Work of recovering from anything, is honestly the most badass thing a person can do. It is not for everyone.
#Nocontact is a painful and necessary decision for some of us to survive and live lives that are more productive than terrifying.
It makes sense that I married a man opposed to any sort of amending or resolving of conflicts and painful moments. Not once, in the span of our short marriage, did we effectively address and resolve any issue. If I brought up a need,concern or feeling of upset, it was met only with rebuttal, tit for tat, score report of all my mis-steps(which are never addressed at the time of offense or with the intent to resolve–just as ammo, to shut down any conversations requiring self reflection) to which I would respond “we can address each of these things, but we can not resolve it all at once”. And the standard goto response to that is still: “get over it why must you rehash?” Wait, me bringing up something in the moment and you listing shit from the past, is me rehashing? I still don’t really get it. By resolving nothing, he, like my sister and mother stoically reserve the right to blast me with past incidences that are never on the table for discussion and resolution– to be put to rest. Oh, I see, this is how we got all of the eggshells that you get to claim are my doing and yours to deal with. So “shut up and pretend you are ok and that it never happened and manage or deny your pain in ways that do not burden others.”
Asking what’s wrong or if something was amiss was always the beginning of infinite tension and emotional banishment, which was attributed to the original sin of having asked “What is wrong?”. “Nothing is wrong, goddammit”. Oh ok. That dynamic is too volatile and scary for me. Thus, earning me the labels of: thin skinned, unstable, resentful.
The likeness of him to my FOO is both jarring and makes perfect sense. My sister also does this thing where she knows she has screwed me over in some way and then keeps checking me with “what is wrong? are you ok?” And from my marriage and recovery, I learned that those are baiting questions. It is her conscience, her looking for something to create drama to justify the turbulence she feels inside herself. Because if I do say “Yes, this or that bothered me”, I am first placated with I am sorry that you feel_________ which is unhelpful bullshit. And then when that doesn’t magic wand fix it or ME(the broken one with sensitivity issues) I get the diatribe of “Yeh, well you did this and that and I didn’t say anything” implying, so now we are even or on unspeaking terms because of me. I don’t want to be even, I want to be connected and safe to make mistakes, make amends and to openly have feelings. But those are not options with people of this constitution. Never bring up the past. Never have a feeling. Never ask or need anything that is not offered or that is difficult and requires self reflection or compassion–For that is not only trouble-making and emotionally unstable, BUT unreasonable. Anne Lamott and her buddy Tom Westin illuminate this with the Five Rules. Click here to read, laugh, relate.
You know what I find to be selfish and unreasonable? That thing I mention all of the time, but I won’t outline here, today, because, well, that is not where I am going with this. After barely 2 weeks of re-submitting myself to contact with the boys’ father, outside of the essential logistics for co-parenting, he has now asked twice for me to take them– because he needs my help. This is what it means to work “with him” to hold him accountable for nothing and to help him and give
Hugging and eating and having sex with my abusers is something I can no longer do. Put out or Fuck off. Totally choosing option #2. Forevvvuh
what is asked of me and expect zero reciprocity. I want to tell him NO, you have sick days and vacation days, luxuries afforded to you always by your freedom from having to assist with care for our boys after school, during school holidays, sick days. (until recently—that was entirely my responsibility, very life limiting–not many jobs accommodate that).
I want to say “use a sick day or a vacation day or ask my sister”…but that will not lead us anywhere wholesome. My choices are to “put out or fuck off”. It is difficult to not feel angry about that—my inability to be free from THIS. With my FOO, I am happy to fuck off as I have most of my life. With him, there is not that option, so long as I choose to prioritize my boys. WE definitely learn what we live and then marry someone not unlike those who first showed us what “love” is.
Unlearning. Reparenting. Recovery. One day at a time. I get to break the cycle. I cannot change the familiar(literally, of the family) dynamic– ONLY my amount of exposure and my reactions. Yes, it hurts. it sucks. It is my life’s work to grow through it all. I am grateful that in spite of how he treats me, he is a loving father. With adults, he sees all people as fitting into one of two categories, people to impress and get stuff from and people who are in the way and for his use and disposal. “You support me by doing as I wish or I destroy/ discard you” It must be a different kind of lonely to never have an equal, thinking all people are better or worse than you and that all who do not do as you wish must be erased or destroyed. DELETE. All I ever wanted with him…was to walk and work together as equals. Thank good God that Sweet Greg and I walk and talk and work and play as equals.
So, what I am saying is; I will probably do as he “needs” without declaring how RIGHT it would be if I could count on him also, for anything more than his alliance with my FOO and my position as his grateful assistant/helper. For him, I must put out, because Fucking off is not in my children’s best interest. For the FOO, yeh, it is a painful, but obvious sane and sad choice to make.
Update from Boys’ return. They were asked to hug their aunt and S2 said he had to use the restroom and escaped. My sister got my ex a gift and followed him around laughing awkwardly while telling him how great he and his appetizers were. It is reported she hugged and kissed my ex goodbye. And, here is the thing. Imagine the person who has hurt him most in his life. Imagine that I take up with that person and gather with my sons there and call them family and ask our children to embrace them– and then “request” favors and pretended it is no big deal. Shaking my head. Cannot wait to give zero fucks. Boys got iPhones for Christmas and one of them just sent me this meme. Love them–
Love that he spelled her name this way. Just makes it even better.
Yes, I am still talking about and working through this. Healing and recovery are a process. My sons and I recently had dinner together, with their father and grandfather, which is another freaking miracle- that my dedication to my sons is greater than my resentment of their father’s affiliation with my sister. I officially resolve to no longer allow my female sibling’s initiatives to interfere with ourfamily–bysetting aside my feelings for my ex’s willingness, if not enthusiasm, to engage my sister’s agenda; foul for too many reasons to count or list. What she pursues, with my ex, requires our boys to participate in gatherings rooted in betrayal of their mother. I am their rock 24/7 365, their mama-bear. Please let them be. Honor their right to remain innocent. Show some respect. (more…)
My sister would frequently snap: “Not everything is about you” when I expressed anything difficult or needing. And it made me confused in a sad and shameful way. Like it never addressed anything but the collective need for me to shut up and be different. Under the guidance of my older sister, parents, and extended family I failed to learn about me, myself, in relation to whom I am, only in relation to how pleasing or displeasing they found me to be, mostly the latter. For example, my birthday gifts and foods weren’t about me, weren’t on my list of things I liked or wanted. I was informed that those were expressions of whom they were and what they wanted to share with me and that I should be grateful…yet their raging and diminishing behaviors were purely about me AND I should remain unaffected. I still do not really get it. I have stopped trying–as that made me want to not live. (more…)
I remember feeling amazed to learn that there is a different formulation for chemotherapy depending on the type of cancer. I thought there was just a Chemo Recipe, and you got more of it or less of it depending on how advanced or widely spread the cancer was. I was also surprised to learn that where the cancer is found, is not necessarily the type of cancer it is. For example, my mother’s cancer was found in her lungs, but it originated in her ovary, so it was Ovarian Cancer and required the correct chemicals to effectively address it, it was not lung cancer, ever. In her lungs is where it made itself known. If her Treatment Team had not been dedicated and expert at understanding the source, they may have been less effective at addressing it so completely, leaving her Cancer-Free in barely 6 months of treatment for Stage 4 Ovarian Cancer. If they had just treated it as the cancer they first saw in the lungs, as lung cancer, it would never have been cured. They had to name it(correctly) to tame it! (more…)
I honestly had such flawed thinking and attitudes growing up. I often felt the victim and would lash out, because in my experience with my family, I heard over and over how I made other people do and say bad things. So naturally it stands to reason that, well, when I am forced into misconduct, it is also the fault of someone else. Right? Ugh. Horrifying to look at– but so amazing to see how far I have come and what I have unlearned and managed to impart to my sons. I have been able to develop a boundary for myself to keep myself safe from attitudes towards me that are unfair, unkind, and diminishing to me. I learned to take care of myself. Finally.
There were no clear, consistent boundaries or routines discernible to me in my childhood home and family life. This was confusing for me and, I believe, played a role in inhibiting me from developing vision and purpose in my life. It prevented me from knowing what I wanted and liked. Sustaining a state of perpetual vigilance and shame–I pinballed through life running from pain and blame and chasing anything resembling connection, without learning healthy coping, thriving, or promising relationship skills. (more…)
In spite of the tension that defines our relationship, my ex and I co-hosted a beautiful day and evening for our older son’s birthday. MIRACLES: Our precious TRUSTED OTHERS were available and PRESENT for this day. In addition to Will’s sweet friends and their families, my best friend of 40 years, who knows everything of me (my FOO, marriage, divorce, and the triangulation of my ex with my sister) showed up to 100% support. I let him know before hand that she was here for US, our family, not Team Magda. Her warm, friendly support is wholesome and badass magic. It is painful to reflect how people in our(his and my own) families behave as if- love is demonstrated by hating your enemies with you or demonstrating and gossiping overt displeasure and coldness for people who fail to submit and revere. But, see, my friends and trusted others have a God and souls and strive to serve and elevate others, rather than themselves. I am crying, overwhelmed by what Mary Ann does for us– nearly certain I would struggle mightily to do for another, what she does, with what seems pure grace and ease. I was raised differently and I am reparenting myself and unlearning as fast as I am able, in my program of recovery– learning to be open to wholesome love and to offer it and be grateful for it and to put space between anything that looks or feels like NON-LOVE….unwholesomeness. (more…)
If you don’t like Christmas, thats okay. You are not alone, or a bad person. People who make you feel like a bad person are bad people.
Shit. Shit. Shit. It is that time of year in which I relive the feelings of fear and anxiety that for me, have defined special and family occasions. It was beyond painful not getting to believe in God or Santa or the Easter bunny, not having fun or meaningful traditions with my mother and family. An utterly faithless existence, really nothing to count on but shame and guilt for being too tense, too skinny, too hungry, too needy, too clumsy, too brown, and angry about being unable to change or deny it all. And then— to still be all those shitty ways on special days in which you are supposed to be and feel all precious and secure and amazing, well that was just a fucken crusher too. So, there is that haunting trauma that I face each year from October through January…that deep longing and awful knowing that if I had been good enough or worthy, my birthdays and holidays might have been different…like the ones that people who are loved and lovable have. right? But guess what recovery teaches me. My mother’s inability to love me is a reflection of her and of course it affected me mentally and emotionally and shaped how I would be in the world—I will grieve that, but no longer take responsibility for it. As I have said, one of my more pronounced failures was that I was not a gracious and mellow abuse getter. My natural reaction was to become an infernal hurricane — a firestorm. (more…)
The intention for Wholesome Badass is to share my journey, my UN-learnings- openly, inviting community with Trusted Others who also are intensely feeling beings.
There are moments in parenting that bring me a deep sense of grief, moments when I know I’m falling short. I think about my boys, the love I have for them, and the ways I wish I could be more
I didn’t expect to hear from my ex-husband on Valentine’s Day, especially after years of no contact. When his call came through, I assumed it was urgent—something about our sons. Given our history, I expected it to be disturbing, so
I am seeking healing in the form of a way to channel all of this old information and energy out of me, so that it doesn’t continue backfiring, making me sicker, sadder, and more afraid. What I long for is
I’ve come to realize that the way we experience love—and how we later give and receive it—is often rooted in the care we were shown as children. Our caregivers, the ones who were tasked with nurturing and protecting us, taught
I read a quote today which has me weeping. I’m weeping all the time anyway just about over every single song and everything reminding me of all the love I have missed, all the love that was not recieved or
The messages from my family of origin were unmistakable: “We will not show empathy or understanding for your perspective. In response to what we perceive as distortions, we will only offer defense, attack, blame, and relentless conflict.” All I ever
It’s painful to recall being scolded in shaming ways during overwhelming moments: “Why are you so angry? Why are you so defensive? Why are you yelling?” I percieved but could not name the dissonance, the lack of understanding and interest
I realize that their lack of regard for creating an environment that promotes connection and a sense of safety and protection is IT. Por ejemplo (the urge to speak Spanish struck suddenly and briefly), if you are one who alienates or disrespects others, any others, I don’t want you near my children doing what you do and labelling it love. Desire is not love. Control is not love. They desire my children. Benevolent people strive to be loving and kind as a way of life, even to those who displease them.
In spite of the tension that defines our relationship, my ex and I co-hosted a beautiful day and evening for our older son’s birthday. MIRACLES: Our precious TRUSTED OTHERS were available and PRESENT for this day. In addition to Will’s sweet friends and their families, my best friend of 40 years, who knows everything of me (my FOO, marriage, divorce, and the triangulation of my ex with my sister) showed up to 100% support. I let him know before hand that she was here for US, our family, not Team Magda. Her warm, friendly support is wholesome and badass magic. It is painful to reflect how people in our(his and my own) families behave as if- love is demonstrated by hating your enemies with you or demonstrating and gossiping overt displeasure and coldness for people who fail to submit and revere. But, see, my friends and trusted others have a God and souls and strive to serve and elevate others, rather than themselves. I am crying, overwhelmed by what Mary Ann does for us– nearly 
certain I would struggle mightily to do for another, what she does, with what seems pure grace and ease. I was raised differently and I am reparenting myself and unlearning as fast as I am able, in my program of recovery– learning to be open to wholesome love and to offer it and be grateful for it and to put space between anything that looks or feels like NON-LOVE….unwholesomeness. 
