Balancing What's Mine and Yours

"Dad, she's not listening. She's mad about something."

Before my husband had even looked up at me, he had started talking extensively about something, completely unaware of where my head was at. My 13 year old son hadn’t missed a beat on what was going on with me though. The fact that he picked up on it so quickly, without me saying a word reminded me how powerful unspoken things can be. When we live with each other day in and day out, our body notices things that our consciousness may never realize. One of the things I’ve learned this year is how much my sensitivity - to people’s moods, situations, all the details a brain can carry - was the result of my body trying to ensure emotional security and eliminate any danger or threat. The confusion that ensues is when you need other people’s emotions to be managed in order for you to feel okay. It can feel like other people’s emotion or state of mind is controlling you. That’s unhealthy, like adrenaline over time.

At bedtime, he asked me if I could rub his feet and I said I would.  He hadn't been feeling well and it usually seemed to help.  After I told his brother goodnight and started to sit at his feet, I sighed.  I was tired and in the most stereotypical motherly way, my heart just wanted everyone to be well and okay.  He immediately said, " If it's too much,  you don't have to work on me."  I laughed.  I can't even sigh out of love without being eagle-eyed. But that is what he’s learned.

"I told you I would work on you.  If it was too much, trust me to tell you that it is." I smiled and tried to assure him, but I understood his fear.  I'm still learning how to be honest with those around me about when I'm okay to help and when I'm not.  I tried to concisely remind him that it was my job as an adult to communicate my needs and limitations and it was his job to believe that I meant it. 

"Do you think you could put that cream on too or is that too much?"  He was honestly trying to differentiate where his needs could be and where my needs were supposed to be.  Something I was ashamed that he had to question, but knew it had taken me 40 years to understand that myself.

"Of course! There's nothing wrong with that.  I need the reminder sometimes.  Especially if it makes you feel better."

The last thing I want is for my children - or anyone else for that matter - to feel so controlled or handcuffed by my emotion or state of mind that they don't feel like they can communicate their needs at any point.  And now that I've unknowingly created these dynamics, I feel panicked to fix them.  That's part of the reason I write about it.  It's painful to see traits I've lived with, thinking they were entirely something else, now acted out in front of me in my family.  We never want to feel the blame of something like that, but to deny our part is beyond foolish.  So, I write and process and look for paths through it all.

As long as we are alive, we still have hope, just as a live dog is better off than a dead lion.

Ecclesiastes 9:4

It can be a heavy weight, knowing that you’ve taught someone something that isn’t good or right. It’s even heavier to want to change it and just not know how most days. Old habits die hard, as they say. The good news, I’m told, is that simply by acknowledging the issue, you are changing the direction of the problem towards healthier things. We can’t go back to the past and undo the mistakes. I’m hoping I can teach my kids skills that I didn’t have that can help them navigate what is and what will be in their lives.

There is a beautiful balance where others know you well enough to sense some of your feelings, but also you feel safe enough to share the depth of your experience with them. In a healthy, perfect community everyone could experience space set aside for themselves when it is needed. Maybe you are blessed with that in your life. I hope so. Right now, that is what I desperately want for my little family, but we aren’t there yet. Maybe that is what 2024 is for.