Some gaps may not be bridgeable…
Painting by the author
Journal entry, 1982: “Impasse”
“The point in a conversation that is an impasse – both love each other very much. Both want desperately to make each other happy. One doesn’t want to hurt the other with his opinion but feels compelled to say it. The other wants desperately to agree, to be able to agree so all can be happy again, but can’t.
Both search to say something that would make it better…want to find those magic words. And “I love you,” may be true, but isn’t enough – it doesn’t dispel the present problem. The love is there, but so is the problem – each looks to the other to back down – to say the one thing they long to hear just to make the problem go away – but can’t, and each knows the other can’t but just hoped they would…and at this point no one knows what to say – all you can do is just walk away – confused – emotionally drained – completely mystified as to a solution.”
The missing link
How do you go from being a submissive, beaten-down child in an abusive family system to a healthy adult who stands up for herself? When does that miraculously happen? It’s not like you leave that house, flip a switch, and suddenly you’re an independent, healthy, assertive human being. In there somewhere is a missing link in the maturation process — years of trial-and-error efforts to heal and learn how to become that adult.
Read more: Impasse…Then, even if you do successfully navigate that growth, chances are you may no longer mesh well with the family system you left behind. The outside world, strangers, may hear your story and embrace your growth. But will that new version of you be welcome in your family? Or will that system prefer you just stay quiet and keep following the rules? If that system hasn’t changed, chances are no one will be happy about your newfound candor, even if it is the healthiest thing for you. And it may not be easy to claim what you need to be healed in the face of that.
Standing my ground with strangers
I can’t speak for anyone else, but I find it pretty easy to walk my own path out in the world of strangers. For one, I’m an introvert and like my own space. But beyond that, when it comes to knowing what I like or need, I follow my gut, know my preferences and boundaries, respect theirs, and just go my own way. So, it’s not the strangers who affect my choices or my ability to follow my own mind. It’s with the people closest to me.
Destroyed by his family system rules
This isn’t surprising given that my father instilled family system rules in me that made it clear I was there for him, his needs, and to keep the family together. The messages drilled into me thousands of times were: “This keeps the family together. This helps me. This is love.” So I was there to adhere to his rules. Mine didn’t matter. Add in a few other rules from him about how people outside the family weren’t safe or to be trusted, and that family loyalty always came first, and my compliance was cemented.
I didn’t dare attempt to even have my own wishes, much less speak them in that house. That would be met with either manipulative gaslighting designed to bring me back in line and show me the error of my thinking, or outright rage to punish me for my “selfishness.” The very person I was supposed to be safest with and learn trust from was the person who failed totally to provide me with a sense of self and safety and who destroyed my trust. Hence, I grew up always second-guessing myself and looking for his (or others’) approval of my decisions. And yes, I am by nature a person who likes to make others happy and avoid causing hurt. But this was all about fearing his ire or emotional abandonment.
Learning to chart my own course
When I finally got out of that house and did a lot of therapy, I came to understand just how abusive and wrong all of that was. For a long time, I felt really stupid and upset with myself for being so unaware and powerless. But that was an undeserved and unfair self-judgment because my younger self was doing the best she could at those moments, given that I was at real risk of physical and emotional harm.
Over the years, I’ve gotten better at trusting my perceptions and choosing to live the way I need to. But old brainwashing dies hard, and I really do have to work at staying true to me, especially in the face of a family system that would rather I just be quiet and never bring the past up again.
What price compliance?
Thus, it is the closest relationships in life that pose the most trouble…and pain for me. While I am clear and assertive with strangers, it has taken me a long time to realize I deserve to be the same way with those closest to me. The ones in my inner circle who are healthy and safe expect me to be my own person. But the family system still wants my silence.
What to do? I love the people in my life. I am older, tired, and life grows short. I would love to just get along and not be at odds with anyone. And in the past I followed the rules to get that. But at this point, if I am offered conditional love that requires I “move on and pretend everything is fine when it’s not,” the question is: “At what price, compliance…how much of me do I sell out to maintain the peace?”
Simon and Garfunkel wrote a song in the 60s: “The Sounds of Silence.” I can’t speak for their interpretation of that title, but I can say that for me, now, to remain silent and untrue to myself has a thunderous, soul-destroying sound. I can’t do it anymore. I don’t want to do it anymore. And I am tired of doing it.
Which hill to climb?
It was with all of those feelings swirling around within me that I rediscovered my journal entry from 1982 — how apropos — about the battle to love others without losing yourself in the process…and what happens when you have to choose. The above image of the divided mountains with the widening gap between them crystallized some insights for me.
Sometimes, no matter how much you love someone, no matter how much you may want to be with them or share an experience…whatever, following that path leads you to a place that just won’t work for you. You can feel the heaviness of the place as you climb, the closing in of dark clouds around you. Those clouds may not be there for anyone else, but for you, for the life you’ve led, those clouds are real and dark. So, with each step further on that path, you just feel yourself slipping away.
Just within the last couple of years, I’ve begun to embrace another path — my own. Yes, it may distance me from others. Yes, it can be lonely. But at the same time, it is leading me to my healing. Standing at the place I am meant to be, I see new vistas and experience new joys. To be true to me feeds my soul and gives it the “peace and quiet” I have longed for my entire life.
When, the gift of serenity?
While peace and quiet may sound boring, it is actually both a relief and a gift. After decades of carrying the traumas of those years of abuse, the sheer delight in looking out over “my own serene landscapes” fills my heart with joy. Yes, it is a bittersweet joy…because to choose a different path means to leave other pathways behind. And I grieve that.
But, the price to do otherwise is too high. When faced with an impasse, I can choose what my soul says or to agree to rules I can no longer abide. Faced with that choice, no matter how hard I try, I can’t find a way to bridge that gap.
So, when do I stop paying a price out of my soul for the approval of others and instead give me the love and serenity I deserve?
Now.
Tags: abuse, child abuse, child sexual abuse, emotional abuse, emotional manipulation, gaslighting, healing, love, mental-health, physical abuse
Soul Mosaic 
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