Accepting unacceptable behavior

I've been beaten, I've been raped, I've been tortured, I've been abused. My daddy's
"perfect family" taught me that these things are just part of being a family. It's ironic that my mother's father left when she was four and my grandmother raised my mom and aunt by herself. You'd think that that side of the family - the unacceptable side - would be more abusive. The "perfect" side of my family - the intact family with the football star and the cheerleader - was the side that hid the bruises, cruelty and the pedophilia. To make matters worse, my perfect family called this behavior love.

Both of my grandfather's were alcoholics. Both of my parents were Adult Children that lived with unacceptable behavior and called it "normal", even love. That's why, when my father was cruel to my mother, she took it and hid it from the kids. That's why, when he began beating her, she tried harder and took responsibility for his actions.

In the dysfunction, the perpetrator is never responsible for his own actions - everyone else is. "If I hadn't talked back, if I got better grades, if I was thinner, if I was more beautiful, if I just accept him as he is then he will love me. The victim eventually believes that it is they that are unlovable. It's their fault that no one loves them.

When my dad murdered my mom, he was not responsible. He "felt like an animal in a cage and she just kept poking at him" he "had to do it to protect himself". Each one of the kids - age 7-13 - took responsibility for mom's murder. I should have been there to protect her, my brother knew something was wrong but when he realized that a gun was gone he didn't know what to do - he was 11, my sister opened the door to let my dad in. We shouldered the blame and guilt but the murderer did not.

After the murder, we were expected to go and visit my dad. We were expected to love him after he had taken away the only warm ray of love in our lives. We never talked about why he was in jail. We just pretended that everything was "normal". We tried our best to look perfect.

The perfect house in Almaden was sold. Our things were boxed up and stored at my grandmother's house. There was no debriefing, no accountability, no discussing how to handle things. That whole part of our lives was "removed" and we moved forward.

When boyfriends were selfish I had had worse - my father was the ultimate narcissist so it actually felt familiar. Not good but familiar. When money was taken out of my purse, I put up with it. When my head was slammed into the tile bathroom floor, I took it. I thought I was being loyal and proving my love by staying.


My kid used to get attention by behaving badly. Bad attention was better than being invisible. I did the same thing in relationships. Being seen was preferable to not being seen at all. If I was slapped across the face, I was definitely being noticed. There was even an excitement to being able to get someone's attention to that level. I was so sick.

I have been alone for seven years now. Drama, abuse and cruelty are not part of my life.

When I moved into my apartments in Dallas I was again faced with the power struggle. One of my tenants - a drug addict - had taken on the "alpha" position. Much like the alpha dog, he had chosen my apartments as his territory and had pee'd all over it. He was unpredictable and he had everyone on edge. I noticed the old power struggle energy, I noticed my wanting to knock him off his pedestal. Today I make a different decision. Today I can let that go. It takes two to have an argument and I chose not to argue. I set the rules. I was firm and he chose to move on. Today that drama is unacceptable. Today I choose what behavior is acceptable to me. Today I choose happiness.

Being Butch

I grew up a tomboy - I loved to run around outside because it kept me out of the house. I was tough and strong and no one wanted to play with me. I didn't have any friends but my brother did so, I tried to hang out with my brother's friends. Being pre-adolescent boys, they wanted nothing to do with me. They tried to get rid of me by hiding and avoiding me. When I did find them they threw rocks at me to keep me away from them. I just made a game of dodging rocks that were thrown at me. I was willing to put up with anything to be accepted. I don't think I ever got hit but they eventually let me hang out with them. A little.

The friend I had at school was my friend because I beat up a boy for her. They were teasing her because she wore glasses and I scared him into leaving her alone.

I learned to excel in school - I got awards for things like reading the most books - and I got attention for doing well at first. Then it became expected and this little rush of attention became a lifetime burden.

I had a few boyfriends along the way - cute 6th grade crushes and that sweet Drew boy that played the electric guitar and sang to me. We made out in the back of his pinto wagon and neither one of us knew what to do. Then my mom was murdered.

Murder changes everything. I replaced my childhood innocence with tough armor that kept everything out. A few months after her death and my 14th birthday I chose a 21 year old stoner boy to initiate me into womanhood. He was weak, he was stupid and he thought I was hot.

Since then it's been a stream of weak men. I remember when I told #2 "I can't do this anymore". I was asking for help, for some promise of something changing but what I got was "I know how you are when you make up your mind so how do you want to do this."

For a woman, that is like death. That is so weak and pathetic. We were together for 9+ years shouldn't I get more than "you've made up your mind"? How about "I know we've grown apart", "we still care about each other what can we do to fix it" or even " I know we've become different people but I'll always love you". Reach down between your legs and make sure they're still there! Just show up just a little bit!

Today the guys that show up are great guys. They have good values and honor me...and we become friends. They were attracted to my energy and my strength because they needed me to be their anchor. Sorry boys, I am not interested in being your anchor. Sure, I can be there for you but you have to show up enough to be there for me, too. If you want to be My Man you have to show up in spades. My man can weather my storms. He smiles right through them knowing that the sunshine is coming. He would never say "you've made up your mind".

Last night I was reading in bed when a girlfriend called. She's doing some real estate and we chatted about that then she asked me about her guy friend. He's in a divorce and he's bending over backwards to not have conflict and to make his ex very happy with the settlement. Which my friend really hates because it will affect her income for the next 5+ years. I told her that pleasing was a very feminine attribute. To which she replied " Oh, I am definitely the guy in the relationship. I am OK with that." "Well then, I replied, why are you mad that his ex is the guy in his last relationship?"

I filled up my love bucket with pain

This week I heard a story of a woman in incredible pain and suffering. She's been living with her husband and grown sons in the same house for 30+ years but they don't even talk to each other. She goes home and goes straight to her room. She hasn't had a relationship with any of them for years. When asked when her marriage was over her answer was 1993. 1993!! She's been suffering in silence for 16 years because she is a good christian.

I looked up Martyr: The term martyr (Greek μάρτυς martys "witness") is most commonly used today to describe an individual who sacrifices his or her life (or their personal freedom) in order to further a cause or belief for many. -Wikipedia

So what "cause" is she suffering for?

Is wasting your life what god really wants for us? Is gods wish for us never ending pain?

I put a lot of love and energy into my kid to be a "good parent". I spent time and money that I didn't have to take care of him. I stuck beside my brother when he was in jail. I stayed in an abusive relationship to "prove" my love for him. I lent money to my brothers and sisters to help them. I was sacrificial in my giving and when they didn't appreciate it I was pissed.

"After all I have done for you"

There is significance in being a Martyr. There is significance in the pain because the pain is significant but what I really wanted was to be loved. How is pain supposed to get me love? That's just sick thinking.

No one asked me to be in pain. God's wish for me is not "perfect pain" but "perfect happiness".

Jesus is the ultimate martyr; he died so others may live.

Today I don't have to die physically but I can die to my ego and not try to fill up my love bucket with pain. I don't believe that real love has any pain in it.

The struggle, the suffering, the martyrdom is all optional.
It's old sick behavior that I did to feel important. It's old sick behavior that I did to be noticed.

What I realize today is that the healthy people just noticed that I was sick and the sick people just noticed that they could take advantage of me. What this behavior really did was distract me from my loneliness. It's like smashing a finger with a hammer to get rid of a headache.

My life was hell but I knew what it was. I was too cowardly to do it different. Even when an open door was presented I hesitated. I was afraid to give up all I had. I held on until all I "had" was ripped from my closed hand. God did for me what I could not do for myself.

I resented everyone. I was angry. I was afraid. I was numbed out. It almost killed me like it killed my mom.

Today my red flags are: having to "prove" anything, suffering, pain, "It's not that bad", loneliness, "after all I've done for you", "I've had worse", "I should just be grateful for what I have".

Today I deserve JOY, which is polar opposite to "not that bad". I don't have to minimize my pain today to make it manageable. Today I can open to the possibility that god's wish for me - and my wish for me - is perfect happiness. Today I deserve to be happy.

It used to be that being needed was enough.

My mom needed me. I was the oldest, the strongest, the calmest. I could deflect my father's anger and "save" her. I could help get the kids, and make sure they were clean and behaving. I could make dinner and get the kids to bed. There was power in this. It strokes my ego to be needed and there is also certainty in being needed. If you can't live without me then you'll think twice before you toss me aside.

It also means that I was always working to improve the ways you need me, for fear that you would figure out how to make your own sandwich and not need me any more. It's a foundation built on sand.

My brothers and sisters needed me. I could beat up the bully - or them if they didn't do what I wanted, I knew who the teachers were and I could reach the peanut butter if it was on the top shelf. As they grew up they rebelled against my controlling ways and we had to re-establish our relationships based on give and take, equality. They would no longer take my bullshit because they were tall enough to get the peanut butter themselves.

In my marriages I knew I was needed; #1 needed me to get him out of jail, #2 needed me to raise his son, #3 needed me to feel safe and I needed him to feel safe.

#3 was my best friend. He was weak and he needed me but, he totally loved and supported me in any way he could. The biggest gift he gave me was unconditional love. I could tell him anything and he was ok. He knew all the things I was ashamed of and he still thought I was awesome. #3 helped me realize that I didn't have to do anything to be loved. I was enough just the way I was.

It was the first time the pressure to take care of everything wasn't there. It had been like carrying around a bowling ball while I ran through life. #3 took the bowling ball and freed me from the compulsion to please. He made it safe to look at the pain without feeling overwhelmed by it all. He finally made it ok to be human.

The biggest gift I got from #3 and from program has been love and acceptance. In my childhood there were strings attached to love. I learned to NOT let anyone help me because the expectation was that I would "help" them back. The price was always too high. I learned to not need anyone. To keep people out. To not use my "need" budget. I learned to not have needs.

Today when I give it's not a manipulation. I give what I can without expectation of anything. There is no "I'll love you if". I just love. It's what I was meant to do.

One way that I know I am doing this is by the people that come up to me to thank me for something. They remember when I did _________ for them. "I owe you so much" they say. I just smile and give them a hug. I don't even remember what it was that I gave. I am not keeping track.

Today, that's a very good thing.

Being Good

My stepkid had a hard time in school. He was kicked out of first grade when he stabbed a kid with a pencil out of anger. Three days later he was mine and it became my mission to help him. He had a lot of issues with anger and I think he was abused by his mom but, I think I abused him, too - at least I wish I could have ignored his behavior and loved him more.

I knew he was a smart kid and I often thought his IQ was higher than the "average" which explains why he was bored in school. Our school system is set up to teach at an "average" level - which really means that if you are one of the kids right in the middle of the bell curve then you are getting taught how you need to be taught and everyone else is on their own. The other thing school teaches us is how to conform. On a personal level the teacher cares about each individual kid but in a practical sense, she can't, she has to keep 40 kids on task and "under control". What the kids really learn is to conform. Forget what your gifts and dreams are. Become plain vanilla so the class as a whole can continue. If you conform your teacher loves you and your parents don't have to go to parent teacher conferences and you're not grounded.

Take this the next step into adulthood. It doesn't matter what your gifts are, what you really excel at, or what makes you happy. We get married, we get into debt with the wedding, then we work really hard to pay that off before the kids come. Then we work even harder to send the kids to the right preschool and homework and chauffering kids around and white lies, and soccer practice and more kids and college and suddenly the house is empty and you're 50.

Do you ever wonder who that 5 year old, full of energy and promise, was? Can you remember? Did she dream of SUVs and juggling faster and faster to keep the job she hates?

I try to be good so people will love me but who was that person that everyone loved?