Twenty years ago, Bill and I were about to be engaged, but I asked him to meet my therapist first. After a half-hour chat, Dr. N turned to me and said, “He’s got a job. What the hell do you see in him?” We all laughed, but it underscored my poor marital record.
With husband #1, I felt as if we were family on our very first date, when he made fun of my appearance. A few years after we married, he quit work and retired to the sofa. I wrote in my diary that if I were happy 10% of the time, that should be enough. I left him after the second time he beat me.
Five years after that divorce, I was very lonely. I almost didn’t care that husband-to-be #2, in his mid-thirties, lived with his sister and drove a car that barely ran. A recovered drug addict, he owned nothing in the world. But he was so smart, so artistic, and so compellingly broken. After we married, he quit working, but he never beat me, so I counted myself happy. I gave him a roof over his head and health insurance. He gave me astronomy, geology, history, music, and when he relapsed, drugs.
Ah, love.
Why would I, a smart, hardworking honor student, grow up and choose such men?
- Because they were familiar.
- Because I didn’t know how to tell good people from bad. After all, I’d been taught that my father could break my eardrum or give me a bloody nose and still deserve my love and loyalty.
- Because my religion taught me to turn the other cheek, and love the sinner.
As a result, I didn’t know what to do with bad people. Their pain was like a claim ticket. All they had to do was show it to me and I was obligated to cash it.
My dad and his mother. The grief and pain go way back.
And what was “bad,” anyway? When I consider what my dad went through as a little kid, I could cry. I love and miss him to this day. That’s messed up, right? To feel so much empathy that you bond for life with an abuser?
Well, it’s textbook codependency. You feel your fate is tied to theirs. You only exist insofar as you are useful to others. You don’t know what to do with yourself if you don’t have a purpose that somehow serves humanity. You’re a people-pleaser, hypervigilant, and/or you have a relentless sense of responsibility for everybody and everything. Maybe you’re addicted to alcohol, food, drugs, sex, or overwork.
As I learn about myself under the guidance of a trusted coach, I’m having a lot of thoughts and dreams. Even a nightmare or two.
But there’s a silver lining: my behaviors, developed appropriately as a child and continued inappropriately into my seventh decade, can now stop. Now that I know they were textbook protective reactions, I can choose how to react, how to behave, and even how to feel.
A few days ago, we babysat our grandkids for a few hours. When their daddy, my son, came home, he insisted we stay and visit a while, and we had a great conversation. When mommy came home, it continued. What a warm, close feeling I had, sharing their lives. But then after we left, I felt that familiar sense of loss, of disconnection. Of being separated from the whole.
Newly informed, however, I reminded myself that no matter how real it felt, it was an illusion; nothing more than learned behavior, nothing more than the fossilized remains of childhood trauma.
If you are in an abusive situation, understand this: abusive behavior is generational. Please get help – if not for yourself (Janay Rice), then for your child, who will in ten or twelve years go looking for a man to knock her out cold in an elevator.
Just a word of caution about Dr. Amen. He has been mentioned in numerous articles on “Quackwatch” and has made a fortune doing SPECT scans on people’s brains ($3.500/scan) to “prove” his theories on many conditions, even as a part of marriage therapy, when the efficacy of these scans has not been proven. Some of what he says may be helpful, but I think it’s good to be aware of the whole picture.
Thanks for that, Barbara. You are right. He does have his detractors, and so often these medical folks (hello, Dr. Oz) become influential celebrities even though they are quacks. I did like his book, though. It had a ton of great advice about nurturing your body and mind. For example, there are five sections in the book which correlate to five parts of the brain, with a quiz to help you decide from which of these areas your problem behaviors spring. And then, he suggests offsetting behaviors. I thought that was really helpful.
What a beautiful and moving post. I shared on my FB page.
Well thank you so much, Megan!
Lynne, you wrote so beautifully and so movingly. I’m deeply touched and at a loss for words. Thank you for sharing, I’m sure it will help many people out there — women and men alike. God Bless.
Thanks, Jim. That is my hope.
Brava, Lynne! Sometimes I wonder if physical abuse is any different than verbal, mental, or emotional abuse. All are wrong. All are hurtful. And sadly, so many never recover from the wounds. Keep telling your story, my friend, and encouraging others to seek help. Nobody should have to live in fear.
Debbie, thanks. I hadn’t checked out your blog for a while; didn’t know if you were still writing, so I went to see. Wow, you are going through it, Sis! Very few of us are able to avoid the need to care for aging parents. It’s hard to accept that our parents, like your mom, might live in difficult situations (a 3-story house!) and not really be thinking about how they will manage. For my Mom, it was distance. She was an hour away from her doctor by freeway, which she no longer drove. Her closest kid lived near the doctor. For a few years there was a lot of driving. Also, we worried she would fall in the yard (a half-acre) while gardening and no one would hear her. Plus she doesn’t have much income and the house needed pricey maintenance. I’m sorry she fell and broke her leg, but the silver lining was that she sold the house and moved within four blocks of me. Yes, it was hard for her. She lost some things, like her beloved high desert, a view, and the house she built with Dad. But over all, what a damn relief for us. Hang in there.
Your story resonates with me on so many levels. Thank you for sharing. Again.
And thank you for saying so, Mindy. With one in four of us experiencing domestic abuse, it has the potential to change the way our culture behaves. Here’s what I’ve wondered: if 25% of us grow up to be super-responsible people-pleasers who aren’t at peace unless we’re sacrificing for others, what would happen to the country if we were healthy? What a ton of service that would remove from our society. To even think it confounds me.
Yes! That is a confounding thought, indeed. Having been in recovery for many years I am blessed to have the opportunity to be and live differently.
Very best wishes to you, Mindy. Blue skies ahead.
Your fighting spirit and resiliency amazes me, Lynne. What a tough road to travel. It’s as if you have come full circle on your journey to self-actualization. No longer are you that scared little girl cowering in corner, trapped in a role as peace keeper and people-pleaser, but now you are a strong woman stepping out with a roar and leading others to find their voice and shout out too.
Re that fighting spirit, Pat, I would say it takes one to know one, based on your memoir of breaking through into women’s pro basketball. But I am still that scared little girl…only difference is, now I know how to reassure her.
I wrote a piece on belonging, part of which I posted on blog. I am trying to recognize my success or not with my feminine side and looking at it generationally. I was surprised to discover that I have no idea of my father’s relationship to his mother or father.
We don’t usually think to ask until we’re older, and then it’s too late. But some questions wouldn’t be answered, or answered honestly, anyway. It’s destined to be a mystery.
Dear Lynne, now we know the real story behind the strong, confident, wonderful woman you are. My heart goes out to that precious little girl. It also relates to that young woman who settled when she didn’t have to. Your insights and courage are so admirable and will go a long way in helping others. Sending love and hugs.
Kathy, now you know why your memoir resonated so much for me.
My heart aches for the little girl you were. Thank you for so bravely opening up a window to a world that way too many inhabit every day.
Me, too, Janis. But it’s a pretty distant memory now. I am more worried about younger women, like Ray and Janay Rice’s daughter, whose brain is being altered as we speak. But maybe we can get the word out.
Thank you for this honest and oh-so-important post today, Lynne and kudos to you for facing this issue head on, coming out strong on the other side, and sharing your story that others may find their own way out.
Linda, this is why your story called to me so strongly. You had a different kind of childhood but just as challenging. Yet here you are, all accomplished and safe. I recommend your adoptee story to everyone (Link is here: http://www.amazon.com/Two-Hearts-Linda-Hoye/dp/061560675X)
Thanks so much, Lynne.
Lynne, reading this saddened me for what you had to go through, but made me happy, also, because your trials made you the special person that you are today. Your inner strength made you go forward and find the way to success. I mean, look at you! You have written two books and you are an amazing individual. We all wonder what our lives would have been like if we had turned down a different road. Your road seemed to have many crossroads but you landed up on the right one. Bravo!
Thanks, Judy. To this day, I get flustered when people say that their tough childhood “…made me what I am today.” Mostly I just look away, change the subject, whatever. But life is good now. I hope to raise awareness especially with young women who have little kids.