My sanity requires a personal sanctuary. Traditionally, that has always been my living room. It is the place where I focus my decorating energies. Everything placed in that room is strategically chosen to enhance the overall ambience. Typically, I ensure that the room is equipped with various lighting options, from candlelight to bright light and natural light. Access to music is essential; a television is not. The decor generally includes objects from Nature (rocks, plants, seashells, dried floral arrangements, etc.), spiritual icons, and possessions of personal significance. A comfortable thow for naps is also a must. And above all, it is perpetually clean. It is not a place for un-used, misplaced, homeless possessions.
While my sanctuary is where I retreat, relax, and let go, it is also where I entertain. It is the room visitors all experience, so it is vital that it is true to who I am; a reflection of me. It must be as comfortable and inviting as it is functional and practical. And I've been without one for over five years now. Is it any wonder I often feel listless, homesick, and spend far too much time in Cyberspace?
Admittedly, I am self-absorbed, introspective, and enjoy my solitude. Still, I am equally social and enjoy the company of good friends and those I love most. In fact, all people are interesting and I can usually find some value in even the scum of the earth. My need for solitude is not based on an inherent dislike of people. Yet, I am most content, most relaxed, and most at peace when I am afforded the time and space to live within the confines of my mind, preferrably in an environment that is aesthetically pleasing to my personal taste.
In all my adult years, this is the first time where the closest thing I have to a personal sanctuary is my bedroom, and even that falls short. So creating a living room / sanctuary has become an urgent priority. My sanity demands it because, after all, when Mama's not happy, no one is happy.
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
Saturday, February 12, 2011
SO REALLY, WHO AM I?
In practical terms, I am a mature, white female. I am the oldest of four daughters. Having been born in 1962, I am at the younger end of the Baby Boom Generation. I am the mother of four daughters and two sons and the grandmother of twelve.
But I am so much more than that. I am multifaceted and eclectic, and yet, very average and much like anyone else. While I am earthy, solid, practical, and motherly, I am also classy, stylish and graceful. I believe I am empathic, generous, intuitive and introspective, socialble, well-liked and personable. Yet, paradoxically, I am also reclusive, agoraphobic, self-absorbed, selfish, and picky. On the one hand, I am fascinated by the occult, hauntings, the Unknown and Unprovable. I am deeply spiritual and often religious while at the same time, I am scientific, practical, analytical, and respect facts and scientific method. I am both an intuitive tarot reader and an agnostic, believing just about anything is possible and yet knowing that very little is provable. I am mystified by a Higher Power and still I realize that "God" is quite likely a human creation that we long ago concocted to ease our insecurities and fulfill our lifelong need for a parent-image. I am a child in an adult body after spending my childhood feeling like an adult trapped in a child's body. While I can be mature, professional, responsible, and sage-like, there is a child-within who loves to play, to color, to dance in the rain and swim naked in the middle of the night.
I am the teacher, the healer, the helper. I am the counselor, the minister, the leader and the follower. I am the victim of child sexual abuse, of poverty, and of my own short-comings. I am paradoxical and admittedly inconsistent, much like life itself. All of this, and so very much more, makes me who I am.
But I am so much more than that. I am multifaceted and eclectic, and yet, very average and much like anyone else. While I am earthy, solid, practical, and motherly, I am also classy, stylish and graceful. I believe I am empathic, generous, intuitive and introspective, socialble, well-liked and personable. Yet, paradoxically, I am also reclusive, agoraphobic, self-absorbed, selfish, and picky. On the one hand, I am fascinated by the occult, hauntings, the Unknown and Unprovable. I am deeply spiritual and often religious while at the same time, I am scientific, practical, analytical, and respect facts and scientific method. I am both an intuitive tarot reader and an agnostic, believing just about anything is possible and yet knowing that very little is provable. I am mystified by a Higher Power and still I realize that "God" is quite likely a human creation that we long ago concocted to ease our insecurities and fulfill our lifelong need for a parent-image. I am a child in an adult body after spending my childhood feeling like an adult trapped in a child's body. While I can be mature, professional, responsible, and sage-like, there is a child-within who loves to play, to color, to dance in the rain and swim naked in the middle of the night.
I am the teacher, the healer, the helper. I am the counselor, the minister, the leader and the follower. I am the victim of child sexual abuse, of poverty, and of my own short-comings. I am paradoxical and admittedly inconsistent, much like life itself. All of this, and so very much more, makes me who I am.
Thursday, February 10, 2011
A LESSON IN HISTORY
So who am I? History repeats itself in families and so to undertstand more completely who I really am, I must take into consideration my family of origin and their stories because their histories laid the foundation for who I was to become. In essence, I am all of them, plus the impact and influence of all of my unique life experiences.
Most significantly, I was influenced by the household I was born into which consisted of my mother, my maternal grandmother and grandfather, and my mom's brother Rick who was also living in the home that I came into when I was born.
I was my mom's first-born child and the first grandchild which made me the center of the Universe. My early childhood put me in a world where my needs were met. I had four primary parents because of living with my mom's family, and so there was always someone available to care for me.
Even though my mom was young - a teenager - when I was born, she was kind, nurturing, attentive, and loving. My grandparents and uncle were also very loving, patient and kind with me. My father was in the Service when I was born, so it would be a few years before he would enter my life.
When I think back to those very first few years of my life - and I DO have memories from that time - I recall feeling genuinely and purely happy with no anxiety about the world around me. My world was a safe and secure place where I was at liberty to be me.
When my father's time in the service came to an end and he arrived in our household, I recall feeling uneasy, threatened, and unsure. As a young father with his own history of dysfunctional family dynamics, he believed I was his property and that his job as a parent was to be the disciplinarian. His main function was to give me orders that I was to follow. Obedience without question. I both feared and resented his presence in my world and would often run to my mother, grandmother, grandfather, or uncle. That was when I learned that sometimes, even those who loved me most could not always come to my rescue.
I remember sensing that my father was jealous of the strong bond between me and my mom and he was also both jealous and resentful that I had bonded to my uncle and grandparents. He could see that in my two-year-old mind, they were my parents and he was not. I loved them; I feared and avoided him.
I realize now, looking back at my history, that the addition of my father to my childhood family constellation forever impacted my conclusions about men. Excluding my grandfather and uncle, I then learned that men were mean, threatening, angry, not to be trusted but to be obeyed. I learned that men were the ruling gender and that they wielded power and authority. I learned that they could inflict emotional pain at their discretion and often without obvious rationale.
While I have memories of this time in my life, they are somewhat fuzzy and involve feelings more than specific events. The first actual event-based memory that I have of my father came a year or two after his return home when we (my mom, dad, and I) were living alone as a nuclear family in an apartment.
In the first memory, my mom had sewn me a beautiful blue velvetine winter coat. There was some left-over fabric and she used it to cover a cigar box. She gave the now-beautiful box to me as a special "treasure box" and I was ecstatic! It was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen and I liked it for both it's rich color and pleasing tactile properties. When my dad came home from work and saw it, I remember him liking it. In fact, he liked it so much that he decided that HE wanted it, and so he took it from me. I remember my mom protesting, telling him that she had made it for me. I was crying. No one had ever stolen from me before. But he won. The beautiful treasure box was no longer mine. I learned that men could have their way.
My second memory of my father was from the same time period. He was at work and my mom had been making fried chicken for dinner. When the chicken had been battered and floured and put to the side, my mom decided to take a break. It would be a short while before it would all have to be cooked. I asked her if I could "cook" with the left-over egg mixture and bread crumbs and she told me I could. So, while she rested on the couch, I went into the kitchen feeling very grown up and began to "cook." I remember looking in the refrigerator for other things that I could add to the egg mixture and I found a bottle of hot sauce. I added it to the eggs and took pleasure in the change in color and smell of my "recipe."
Soon, my dad came home from work. Dinner had been cooked and we sat down to eat. My dad went to the refrigerator to get his bottle of hot sauce, but it was gone. When he found out that I had taken it when I was "cooking," he became very angry. Once again, my mother came to my defense, but my dad over ruled. He pulled down my pants, put me over his knees, and spanked me. I had never been spanked like that before. I don't think I had ever been spanked at all! I learned that evening at the age of three that men could also humiliate and physically inflict pain...and that there was nothing a woman could do about it.
Most significantly, I was influenced by the household I was born into which consisted of my mother, my maternal grandmother and grandfather, and my mom's brother Rick who was also living in the home that I came into when I was born.
I was my mom's first-born child and the first grandchild which made me the center of the Universe. My early childhood put me in a world where my needs were met. I had four primary parents because of living with my mom's family, and so there was always someone available to care for me.
Even though my mom was young - a teenager - when I was born, she was kind, nurturing, attentive, and loving. My grandparents and uncle were also very loving, patient and kind with me. My father was in the Service when I was born, so it would be a few years before he would enter my life.
When I think back to those very first few years of my life - and I DO have memories from that time - I recall feeling genuinely and purely happy with no anxiety about the world around me. My world was a safe and secure place where I was at liberty to be me.
When my father's time in the service came to an end and he arrived in our household, I recall feeling uneasy, threatened, and unsure. As a young father with his own history of dysfunctional family dynamics, he believed I was his property and that his job as a parent was to be the disciplinarian. His main function was to give me orders that I was to follow. Obedience without question. I both feared and resented his presence in my world and would often run to my mother, grandmother, grandfather, or uncle. That was when I learned that sometimes, even those who loved me most could not always come to my rescue.
I remember sensing that my father was jealous of the strong bond between me and my mom and he was also both jealous and resentful that I had bonded to my uncle and grandparents. He could see that in my two-year-old mind, they were my parents and he was not. I loved them; I feared and avoided him.
I realize now, looking back at my history, that the addition of my father to my childhood family constellation forever impacted my conclusions about men. Excluding my grandfather and uncle, I then learned that men were mean, threatening, angry, not to be trusted but to be obeyed. I learned that men were the ruling gender and that they wielded power and authority. I learned that they could inflict emotional pain at their discretion and often without obvious rationale.
While I have memories of this time in my life, they are somewhat fuzzy and involve feelings more than specific events. The first actual event-based memory that I have of my father came a year or two after his return home when we (my mom, dad, and I) were living alone as a nuclear family in an apartment.
In the first memory, my mom had sewn me a beautiful blue velvetine winter coat. There was some left-over fabric and she used it to cover a cigar box. She gave the now-beautiful box to me as a special "treasure box" and I was ecstatic! It was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen and I liked it for both it's rich color and pleasing tactile properties. When my dad came home from work and saw it, I remember him liking it. In fact, he liked it so much that he decided that HE wanted it, and so he took it from me. I remember my mom protesting, telling him that she had made it for me. I was crying. No one had ever stolen from me before. But he won. The beautiful treasure box was no longer mine. I learned that men could have their way.
My second memory of my father was from the same time period. He was at work and my mom had been making fried chicken for dinner. When the chicken had been battered and floured and put to the side, my mom decided to take a break. It would be a short while before it would all have to be cooked. I asked her if I could "cook" with the left-over egg mixture and bread crumbs and she told me I could. So, while she rested on the couch, I went into the kitchen feeling very grown up and began to "cook." I remember looking in the refrigerator for other things that I could add to the egg mixture and I found a bottle of hot sauce. I added it to the eggs and took pleasure in the change in color and smell of my "recipe."
Soon, my dad came home from work. Dinner had been cooked and we sat down to eat. My dad went to the refrigerator to get his bottle of hot sauce, but it was gone. When he found out that I had taken it when I was "cooking," he became very angry. Once again, my mother came to my defense, but my dad over ruled. He pulled down my pants, put me over his knees, and spanked me. I had never been spanked like that before. I don't think I had ever been spanked at all! I learned that evening at the age of three that men could also humiliate and physically inflict pain...and that there was nothing a woman could do about it.
Tuesday, February 8, 2011
LESSONS I'VE LEARNED (SO FAR)
So, wisdom does come with age and, based on all the wisdom I've acquired, you would think I was far more than not-quite-fifty! But I've lived a complex life, packed full with experiences and I've learned a lot. The lessons that follow are not necessarily in chronological order, based on when I learned them, but rather a cumulative compilation of what Life has taught me.
> Teen age girls would be less likely to become pregnant too soon if, upon beginning to menstruate, they receive congratulations for entering womanhood, a vibrator with the encouragement to sexually satisfy themselves and the explanation that their boyfriends will fall short, and a puppy or kitten for them to pour all of their hormonal urges to nurture and mother.
> Children come into this world not so much in need of parents, but rather, in need of nurturing guides and teachers. This role can certainly be best fulfilled by a loving parent, but the main point here is that parenting is more about guiding and teaching than it is about disciplining.
> While parenthood seems to be biologically programmed to occur at an early age when eggs are ripe, sperm is healthy, and parents have the physical energy required, it is probably best done under the supervision of grandparents. Grandparents can pick up the slack and guide the young, new parent as they begin to fulfill their role as a primary care-giver.
> Co-family sleeping, along with extended breastfeeding, is not only healthiest for the baby, but allows everyone a good night's rest which is foundational to good parenting.
> Boys will be boys, but girls will be women. The point here is that girls will often mature at a very young age; boys simply will not.
> Part of the parent's job, especially as the child begins to mature, is to evaluate their child's innate vocational skills - and then guide the child in that direction. Formal vocational assessment of adolescents should be required by law.
> Young children should be encouraged to "work" along side adults as much as possible, especially in the household. Even very young children can be taught to put things away and clean up after themselves, BUT, they cannot and should not be expected to do it alone. The familiar "go clean up your room" command so often thrown at young children is asking way too much.
> High schools should focus on offering apprenticeships and community service projects because both endeavors will build character, show the student why academics are important, and help the student determine what their own vocational skills and desires involve.
> I've learned that the louder a parent yells, the less the child will listen. Also, the more you hit your child, the worse he will behave. In conjuction with this lesson, I learned that every moment you have with your child, you are helping to create a potential childhood memory - either a good one, or a bad one.
> I've learned to question WHY I am attracted to certain men. WHO do they remind me of? WHAT makes them so familiar? I've learned that I am often attracted to men who are not in my best interest.
> I've learned that medical doctors are just practicing medicine and so they don't always know best. I've found out - often the hard way - that sometimes, an older woman or mother or even a grandmother may know more helpful and practical medical information than an M.D., especially when it comes to pregnancy, childbirth, pediatrics, and women's health in general.
> I've learned to trust my gut. It always knows what is best for me.
> I've learned that for my sanity's sake, I need a personal sanctuary which has always been my living room.
> I've learned that when Mom's not happy, no one is happy.
> After many, many years, I realized that rather than be seen as "the girl nextdoor," I would much rather be known as "the bitch across the street." Bitches always get what they want.
> I've learned that history really does repeat itself. If I had known that when I was dating, I would've paid more attention to my former husband's family stories.
> I've learned that when choosing a spouse, considering their genetic history is just as important as their medical history and family relationships histories.
> I learned that just because a guy claims to love me, that alone is not reason enough to love him back.
> I read once that every person is (a) just like everyone else, (b) just like some other people, and (c) just like no one else. This pretty much sums up all of humanity.
> I've learned that Life is way too short.
> Some people are truly happiest when they are miserable. Others find great joy and pleasure in making others miserable.
> Life is full of paradox. For example, the more things change, the more they stay the same, and YET, the only constant in life is change.
> I've learned that everything has a shelf life. Especially relationships. Just because a relationship had a short shelf life doesn't necessarily mean that it was a bad relationship. Oh, and just because a relationship's shelf life spanned a lifetime, doesn't necessarily mean it was a good relationship.
> I've realized that while evolution and biology have a strong impact on the division of labor between men and women (especially mothers and fathers), it is still possible for some men to be kind, gentle, nurturing fathers and it is equally possible that some women are better off remaining childless.
>
[MORE LATER. THIS ESSAY IS A WORK-IN-PROGRESS.]
> Teen age girls would be less likely to become pregnant too soon if, upon beginning to menstruate, they receive congratulations for entering womanhood, a vibrator with the encouragement to sexually satisfy themselves and the explanation that their boyfriends will fall short, and a puppy or kitten for them to pour all of their hormonal urges to nurture and mother.
> Children come into this world not so much in need of parents, but rather, in need of nurturing guides and teachers. This role can certainly be best fulfilled by a loving parent, but the main point here is that parenting is more about guiding and teaching than it is about disciplining.
> While parenthood seems to be biologically programmed to occur at an early age when eggs are ripe, sperm is healthy, and parents have the physical energy required, it is probably best done under the supervision of grandparents. Grandparents can pick up the slack and guide the young, new parent as they begin to fulfill their role as a primary care-giver.
> Co-family sleeping, along with extended breastfeeding, is not only healthiest for the baby, but allows everyone a good night's rest which is foundational to good parenting.
> Boys will be boys, but girls will be women. The point here is that girls will often mature at a very young age; boys simply will not.
> Part of the parent's job, especially as the child begins to mature, is to evaluate their child's innate vocational skills - and then guide the child in that direction. Formal vocational assessment of adolescents should be required by law.
> Young children should be encouraged to "work" along side adults as much as possible, especially in the household. Even very young children can be taught to put things away and clean up after themselves, BUT, they cannot and should not be expected to do it alone. The familiar "go clean up your room" command so often thrown at young children is asking way too much.
> High schools should focus on offering apprenticeships and community service projects because both endeavors will build character, show the student why academics are important, and help the student determine what their own vocational skills and desires involve.
> I've learned that the louder a parent yells, the less the child will listen. Also, the more you hit your child, the worse he will behave. In conjuction with this lesson, I learned that every moment you have with your child, you are helping to create a potential childhood memory - either a good one, or a bad one.
> I've learned to question WHY I am attracted to certain men. WHO do they remind me of? WHAT makes them so familiar? I've learned that I am often attracted to men who are not in my best interest.
> I've learned that medical doctors are just practicing medicine and so they don't always know best. I've found out - often the hard way - that sometimes, an older woman or mother or even a grandmother may know more helpful and practical medical information than an M.D., especially when it comes to pregnancy, childbirth, pediatrics, and women's health in general.
> I've learned to trust my gut. It always knows what is best for me.
> I've learned that for my sanity's sake, I need a personal sanctuary which has always been my living room.
> I've learned that when Mom's not happy, no one is happy.
> After many, many years, I realized that rather than be seen as "the girl nextdoor," I would much rather be known as "the bitch across the street." Bitches always get what they want.
> I've learned that history really does repeat itself. If I had known that when I was dating, I would've paid more attention to my former husband's family stories.
> I've learned that when choosing a spouse, considering their genetic history is just as important as their medical history and family relationships histories.
> I learned that just because a guy claims to love me, that alone is not reason enough to love him back.
> I read once that every person is (a) just like everyone else, (b) just like some other people, and (c) just like no one else. This pretty much sums up all of humanity.
> I've learned that Life is way too short.
> Some people are truly happiest when they are miserable. Others find great joy and pleasure in making others miserable.
> Life is full of paradox. For example, the more things change, the more they stay the same, and YET, the only constant in life is change.
> I've learned that everything has a shelf life. Especially relationships. Just because a relationship had a short shelf life doesn't necessarily mean that it was a bad relationship. Oh, and just because a relationship's shelf life spanned a lifetime, doesn't necessarily mean it was a good relationship.
> I've realized that while evolution and biology have a strong impact on the division of labor between men and women (especially mothers and fathers), it is still possible for some men to be kind, gentle, nurturing fathers and it is equally possible that some women are better off remaining childless.
>
[MORE LATER. THIS ESSAY IS A WORK-IN-PROGRESS.]
Monday, February 7, 2011
THE SUNNY SIDE OF LIFE
While I certainly have my regrets and a list of things I wish I had done differently had I known in my youth who I really was, life has not been all bad and I take pride in my ability to continually strive toward self-actualization, regardless of how many times I have been knocked down.
When I look back at my twenties, thirties and forties, I see multiple times when defeat came close to pushing me right over the edge. There have been times in my life when I could have taken paths that would have further complicated and worsened already-bad situations. Yet, my inner drive, self-determination, and underlying acceptance that I was born to accomplish so much more motivated me to pick up the pieces, take a deep breath, and begin again. Often, these new starts involved digging my way out of deep ruts and self-constructed pits. Many times there have been road blocks, detours where I was required to beat the odds, and times where I was able to rise above multiple limitations and restrictions. For a long time, I self-identified as a bottom-feeder; but eventually, I began to surface and finally began to feel the warmth of the sunny side of life.
In this present moment, I feel optimistic. I see amazing potential still hovering on my horizon, and still within reach. I cannot undo the past, but I can create each moment with a new awareness, and new purpose, and with the insights of many lessons learned. As I continue to strive toward economic self-sufficiency in a field for which I am perfectly suited and well-primed, I know that I will soon be able to create and build a life that is more truly and authentically my own. In doing so, I will feel even more of the warmth of the sunny side of life.
No, I cannot undo the past; but as I consciously construct the present, I will reap a self-styled future that will ultimately benefit my grown children because my plans, goals and aspirations take them and their needs into consideration. I have learned that living in the sunny side involves staying in the driver's seat of my life, and never again will I invite or allow someone else to have that position. Never again will I choose subservience.
When I look back at my twenties, thirties and forties, I see multiple times when defeat came close to pushing me right over the edge. There have been times in my life when I could have taken paths that would have further complicated and worsened already-bad situations. Yet, my inner drive, self-determination, and underlying acceptance that I was born to accomplish so much more motivated me to pick up the pieces, take a deep breath, and begin again. Often, these new starts involved digging my way out of deep ruts and self-constructed pits. Many times there have been road blocks, detours where I was required to beat the odds, and times where I was able to rise above multiple limitations and restrictions. For a long time, I self-identified as a bottom-feeder; but eventually, I began to surface and finally began to feel the warmth of the sunny side of life.
In this present moment, I feel optimistic. I see amazing potential still hovering on my horizon, and still within reach. I cannot undo the past, but I can create each moment with a new awareness, and new purpose, and with the insights of many lessons learned. As I continue to strive toward economic self-sufficiency in a field for which I am perfectly suited and well-primed, I know that I will soon be able to create and build a life that is more truly and authentically my own. In doing so, I will feel even more of the warmth of the sunny side of life.
No, I cannot undo the past; but as I consciously construct the present, I will reap a self-styled future that will ultimately benefit my grown children because my plans, goals and aspirations take them and their needs into consideration. I have learned that living in the sunny side involves staying in the driver's seat of my life, and never again will I invite or allow someone else to have that position. Never again will I choose subservience.
Saturday, February 5, 2011
SO NOW, THIS
Admittedly, I've made errors that will echo and reverberate for generations to come and the realizations, regrets and insights that I've acquired since making those mistakes have come way too late; but still I must move forward, and in doing so I hope to set a positive example for my now grown children.
My first step in moving forward has been honesty. I have expressed my regrets to each of my children. I admitted to dropping the ball as a parent. I fell short of my own parenting goals and allowed their father's dysfunctions and mine to directly and adversely affect the well-being of my children. We failed to lay a solid foundation within each of them upon which they could've built their adult lives. Being honest about our failures was the first step toward salvaging.
The second step was recognizing, that because of my inadequacies as a parent, I am now obligated to pick up the pieces and I can do that by helping them complete the task of preparing for adult life, even though they are all of legal age. In practical terms, it means continuing to provide a place to live - rent free - for a few of them as they finish their education, decide what they want to do with the rest of their lives, and reach a higher level of emotional maturity. It means that when my kids need my help, I do my best to provide it, looking not so much at their age, but at their developmental, social, emotional, and psychological maturity. I must finish the task, even if they are beyond legal age.
Concurrent with those first few steps that I've taken, I am continuing my own education in an effort to become self-sufficient. In doing so, I hope prove to my children that it is never too late. As I continue to pursue my vocational goals, even at my stage of life, I hope that my children will benefit from my determination and persistence.
In six months, I will begin working on my master's degree in community counseling with the goal of becoming a licensed mental health counselor. If I can dedicate even just eight or ten years of my life to a vocational endeavor, to financial independence, and living life as a self-sufficient adult, I will have accomplished much.
I recall when I was younger, I used to insist I could, in fact, have it all - just not all at once. I believed in the concept of sequencing my life. In my thirties, my focus was childrearing. In my forties, my focus was furthering my education in preparation for a professional life. And then in my fifties, my focus would be on being productive in my chosen field. Looking back, I am amazed that I accomplished as much as I did, considering the level of dysfunction at play in my life during my younger years: marital discord, immaturity, poverty, substance abuse, and mental illness. Today, I am no longer with my childrens father, I am much more mature, living more comfortably, but still economically dependent, no longer dealing with substance use/abuse, and although I still struggle with anxiety, I continue to pursue a life as if the anxiety was not there.
So yes, the wisdom that comes with maturity comes way too late to prevent any of the mistakes that come with youth. But the insights I have gained will help me help others and will prevent me from continuing in dysfunction. "I can see clearly now, the rain is gone."
My first step in moving forward has been honesty. I have expressed my regrets to each of my children. I admitted to dropping the ball as a parent. I fell short of my own parenting goals and allowed their father's dysfunctions and mine to directly and adversely affect the well-being of my children. We failed to lay a solid foundation within each of them upon which they could've built their adult lives. Being honest about our failures was the first step toward salvaging.
The second step was recognizing, that because of my inadequacies as a parent, I am now obligated to pick up the pieces and I can do that by helping them complete the task of preparing for adult life, even though they are all of legal age. In practical terms, it means continuing to provide a place to live - rent free - for a few of them as they finish their education, decide what they want to do with the rest of their lives, and reach a higher level of emotional maturity. It means that when my kids need my help, I do my best to provide it, looking not so much at their age, but at their developmental, social, emotional, and psychological maturity. I must finish the task, even if they are beyond legal age.
Concurrent with those first few steps that I've taken, I am continuing my own education in an effort to become self-sufficient. In doing so, I hope prove to my children that it is never too late. As I continue to pursue my vocational goals, even at my stage of life, I hope that my children will benefit from my determination and persistence.
In six months, I will begin working on my master's degree in community counseling with the goal of becoming a licensed mental health counselor. If I can dedicate even just eight or ten years of my life to a vocational endeavor, to financial independence, and living life as a self-sufficient adult, I will have accomplished much.
I recall when I was younger, I used to insist I could, in fact, have it all - just not all at once. I believed in the concept of sequencing my life. In my thirties, my focus was childrearing. In my forties, my focus was furthering my education in preparation for a professional life. And then in my fifties, my focus would be on being productive in my chosen field. Looking back, I am amazed that I accomplished as much as I did, considering the level of dysfunction at play in my life during my younger years: marital discord, immaturity, poverty, substance abuse, and mental illness. Today, I am no longer with my childrens father, I am much more mature, living more comfortably, but still economically dependent, no longer dealing with substance use/abuse, and although I still struggle with anxiety, I continue to pursue a life as if the anxiety was not there.
So yes, the wisdom that comes with maturity comes way too late to prevent any of the mistakes that come with youth. But the insights I have gained will help me help others and will prevent me from continuing in dysfunction. "I can see clearly now, the rain is gone."
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
SO NOW WHAT?
So, now what do I do? Now that I can look back at my life with clarity, wisdom, insight, and mature judgement, what do I do with the fallout of misguided, dysfunctional, irrational choices that have reverberated across generations and infected, disabled, wounded, and stigmatized my very own children?? How do I make up for the mistakes that have been made? How can I prevent them from repeating my errors when in fact, a few of them are already well on their way in recreating the dysfunctions they grew up with and are adeptly passing those same errors along to their own children?
I realize that I am not the first to witness generational cycles of dysfunction; and certainly, mine came from somewhere! Do I simply wash my hands of all responsibility, now that each of my six children are of legal age and beyond? Do I shrug my shoulders and claim that we all have our own paths to walk, lessons to learn, and problems to solve and decide to let my children just "deal" with what they've inherited? Besides, how long am I supposed to tend to their hurts, their mistakes, and their pain? And yet, when I see them struggling as a direct result of the mistakes I made as a parent, whether directly or indirectly, I feel obliged to assist.
As I see the story of my life-choices unfold, that some of those choices have negatively effected me is simply a universal law of reaping what we have sown; but to see my choices harm my children even into their adult years is an unbearable pain for me and it triggers even more regrets. So now, what??
As the regrets pile up, the solutions seem so far out of reach. While it is true that my horizon looks bright and promising, will it come to pass soon enough? Currently, I am in no position to truly help them because I am still struggling with gaining self-suffiency and independence. Once achieved, will it be too late??
I worry about my twenty-five year old son, for example. He has no high school diploma, a limited work history, and discovered he is the victim of identity theft - something that occured when he was still a young adolescent, but didn't realize until he was of legal age. He's trying so hard to get on his own two feet, but when you are in the depths of poverty, one step forward is almost always followed by two steps back. In fact, none of my six children are truly independent or self-sufficient. Whether dependent as housewives, or living at home, or struggling to survive and making it only with the daily help of boyfriends and parents or inlaws, each one of my children struggles to stand on their own. I accept the blame. I realize I did not do nearly enough to get them established. Of course, not me alone; their father had a huge role in their upbringing too. But the errors he made, I allowed. I did not stand up for my children's best interest and now they pay the price.
So now what?? All I can really do is take it day-by-day and continue to help them, guide them, and point them in the direction that will best help them overcome their inherited burdens. But while doing all that, I often feel guilty, remorseful, sad, disappointed, and overwhelmed with worry. And sometimes, I even feel a sense of shock and disbelief that I fell so short of my own personal goals as a parent and allowed my dysfunctional marriage relationship to take precedence over everything else, including my children...and I wonder if I can ever forgive myself for that.
I realize that I am not the first to witness generational cycles of dysfunction; and certainly, mine came from somewhere! Do I simply wash my hands of all responsibility, now that each of my six children are of legal age and beyond? Do I shrug my shoulders and claim that we all have our own paths to walk, lessons to learn, and problems to solve and decide to let my children just "deal" with what they've inherited? Besides, how long am I supposed to tend to their hurts, their mistakes, and their pain? And yet, when I see them struggling as a direct result of the mistakes I made as a parent, whether directly or indirectly, I feel obliged to assist.
As I see the story of my life-choices unfold, that some of those choices have negatively effected me is simply a universal law of reaping what we have sown; but to see my choices harm my children even into their adult years is an unbearable pain for me and it triggers even more regrets. So now, what??
As the regrets pile up, the solutions seem so far out of reach. While it is true that my horizon looks bright and promising, will it come to pass soon enough? Currently, I am in no position to truly help them because I am still struggling with gaining self-suffiency and independence. Once achieved, will it be too late??
I worry about my twenty-five year old son, for example. He has no high school diploma, a limited work history, and discovered he is the victim of identity theft - something that occured when he was still a young adolescent, but didn't realize until he was of legal age. He's trying so hard to get on his own two feet, but when you are in the depths of poverty, one step forward is almost always followed by two steps back. In fact, none of my six children are truly independent or self-sufficient. Whether dependent as housewives, or living at home, or struggling to survive and making it only with the daily help of boyfriends and parents or inlaws, each one of my children struggles to stand on their own. I accept the blame. I realize I did not do nearly enough to get them established. Of course, not me alone; their father had a huge role in their upbringing too. But the errors he made, I allowed. I did not stand up for my children's best interest and now they pay the price.
So now what?? All I can really do is take it day-by-day and continue to help them, guide them, and point them in the direction that will best help them overcome their inherited burdens. But while doing all that, I often feel guilty, remorseful, sad, disappointed, and overwhelmed with worry. And sometimes, I even feel a sense of shock and disbelief that I fell so short of my own personal goals as a parent and allowed my dysfunctional marriage relationship to take precedence over everything else, including my children...and I wonder if I can ever forgive myself for that.
IT JUST DOESN'T SEEM RIGHT
That wisdom comes with age, maturity, and experience just doesn't seem right - or fair. By the time we learn how to cope with Life and to successfully contribute to Life, it is too late; the damage has been done and generational cycles continue to spin.
As I approach my fiftieth birthday, I can look back with perfect hindsight and see with painful clarity just how little I knew about who I really am when I was busy with building what would become my life story, a tragedy in the making.
For example, when I was in high school and was being pressured to decide what it was I wanted to do with the rest of my life, I did not have a clue! I knew that I felt a maternal urge to mother, but that desire was probably rooted more firmly in hormonal surges than it was in my innate talents and skills. Those urges may have been better fulfilled had I invested in a pet to nurture.
I also knew that I wanted to be a schoolteacher, but as a young girl without the experience of childrearing, what did I really know about child development? What kind of teaching skills would I have had at such an early age other than the simple book knowledge and psychological theories and precepts that would've been imparted in college coursework? While I believe I was innately primed to be a teacher, I would not have become a truly good teacher without my direct experience gained through years of motherhood.
What I did not realize in my youth, and what did not become apparent to me until I was well into my thirties is that I probably should've gone into mortuary science and become a funeral director. But, that is not a career presented to high school students for consideration, so it escaped my consideration until it was way too late.
In my early thirties, as I began to become acquainted with my Authentic Self, I realized that I am a teacher-healer-helper. No need for vocational assessments; those terms adequately define my truest and most innate skills. They define who I am. It explains why I have been drawn to teaching, homeschooling, support-group facilitating, midwifery, counseling, ministering, and funeral directing. But those parts of me were elusive and ill-defined when I was just a teen. How could I have known?
It just doesn't seem right - that it would take me living life before I could know how to best orchestrate my life. And that's not fair.
So while it is true that I have applied my authentic skills throughout my life - as the founder, coordinator, and facilitator of a mother's support group, as a home-school educator and tutor, as a "counselor" and "minister" to friends, neighbors and strangers, as a "teacher" and "mentor" to a flock of Girl Scouts, and once as a "midwife" to a young mom who needed a home birth attendant - it is only now, as I approach fifty, that I am working on becoming a licensed mental health counselor so that I can finally receive recognition and compensation for what I've been doing all these years!
So while it is true that I can look at this next stage of my life as the culmination of my life's experiences and the opus of my being, it also seems horribly unfair that it would take this long for me to know who I really am, to approach self-actualizing, and to be able to finally apply the wisdom that comes with age.
As I approach my fiftieth birthday, I can look back with perfect hindsight and see with painful clarity just how little I knew about who I really am when I was busy with building what would become my life story, a tragedy in the making.
For example, when I was in high school and was being pressured to decide what it was I wanted to do with the rest of my life, I did not have a clue! I knew that I felt a maternal urge to mother, but that desire was probably rooted more firmly in hormonal surges than it was in my innate talents and skills. Those urges may have been better fulfilled had I invested in a pet to nurture.
I also knew that I wanted to be a schoolteacher, but as a young girl without the experience of childrearing, what did I really know about child development? What kind of teaching skills would I have had at such an early age other than the simple book knowledge and psychological theories and precepts that would've been imparted in college coursework? While I believe I was innately primed to be a teacher, I would not have become a truly good teacher without my direct experience gained through years of motherhood.
What I did not realize in my youth, and what did not become apparent to me until I was well into my thirties is that I probably should've gone into mortuary science and become a funeral director. But, that is not a career presented to high school students for consideration, so it escaped my consideration until it was way too late.
In my early thirties, as I began to become acquainted with my Authentic Self, I realized that I am a teacher-healer-helper. No need for vocational assessments; those terms adequately define my truest and most innate skills. They define who I am. It explains why I have been drawn to teaching, homeschooling, support-group facilitating, midwifery, counseling, ministering, and funeral directing. But those parts of me were elusive and ill-defined when I was just a teen. How could I have known?
It just doesn't seem right - that it would take me living life before I could know how to best orchestrate my life. And that's not fair.
So while it is true that I have applied my authentic skills throughout my life - as the founder, coordinator, and facilitator of a mother's support group, as a home-school educator and tutor, as a "counselor" and "minister" to friends, neighbors and strangers, as a "teacher" and "mentor" to a flock of Girl Scouts, and once as a "midwife" to a young mom who needed a home birth attendant - it is only now, as I approach fifty, that I am working on becoming a licensed mental health counselor so that I can finally receive recognition and compensation for what I've been doing all these years!
So while it is true that I can look at this next stage of my life as the culmination of my life's experiences and the opus of my being, it also seems horribly unfair that it would take this long for me to know who I really am, to approach self-actualizing, and to be able to finally apply the wisdom that comes with age.
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