I have recently been in contact with several friends that have been with me since the day of my birth--perhaps more aptly, my mother's best friend and her daughter. They have always been a part of my life, I have special memories with them both and they each have a special place in my heart, uniquely reserved for them and the space that they occupy there. I love them both deeply and they have each brought love and light into my world, always. Recently though, I have been watching them struggle through dealing with past hurts that have ripped their relationship apart and have created a chasm between them that seems impossible to patch, to each of them.
I think one of the hardest things to accept in life is when our family doesn't live up to our expectations and hopes. We all want to be happy. We all want to be loved. Beyond that, our family is supposed to be our greatest asset in life. The more immediate the family member, the more that we expect of them. They are supposed to be our cheerleader, our support, our safety net. They are the ones that are suppose to help us through life's storms and provide us shelter. But what do we do when it is our family that hurts us the most? What do we do when they are the storm?
The logical choice when someone treats you poorly, causes you grief and brings you pain is to end the relationship. We easily separate ourselves from toxic coworkers, neighbors, even friends. However, when it is family, the scars are ten times deeper. And ten thousand times more difficult to let go. We forgive. We open our hearts back up. We make ourselves vulnerable and we often get hurt. How many times until we say, enough is enough?
How difficult to see that our family is made up of real people, with real flaws, and make real mistakes. In my own experience, I am forced to remind myself daily that my father is no different than any other person that I may encounter in my daily life. He has no super powers. He has no hold over me. He has no hold over my life. His opinion of me is no more important than what the individual sitting at the next diner table over thinks of me. Yet, with immediate family, we most deeply feel that need for acceptance, approval, and love. Without it, we never quite feel complete.
I think the difficulties increase further when we see others surrounded by the relationships that we, too, wish that we could have. Seeing friends that have families that support them and are there for them can be so confusing when we can't maintain similar relationships in our own lives. It makes us wonder if there is something wrong with us. When our own family isn't capable of loving us, does that make us damaged goods? I have heard it said a lot in counseling sessions: "Their own family wants nothing to do with them"; as if this surely marks them as a bad individual.
We can never truly see into another's heart. We can never fully gauge the pain that they carry. They can attempt to explain it to us in the best words that they can find--but we can still never truly feel what they have felt. What the experiences have been like for them. How deeply words and actions can wound; how the situation appears through their eyes. There are old blues lyrics: "There are three sides to every story: yours, mine and the truth." The truth is no less the truth. I may see it as black. You may see it as blue. Another yet, may see it as purple. Perceptions are very rarely, if ever, viewed the same by individuals. But that doesn't make their view any less important.
My father sees me as bitter and hateful because I have walked away. He believes that I am incapable of accepting that he loves me. He sees it as that simple. All I wanted was admittance that he made a mistake; an apology for hurting me deeply. I don't see that as a lot to ask. I see it as "manning up." But I am also aware that he is incapable of seeing where he acted improperly. He is the God of his world and those that are in it. He made the moves that he did because of who he is and his own life experiences. I can accept that. I also realize that even if he did apologize, even if he regretted his actions--it would not take away the events that happened. It would not make the situation okay. I would still be deeply hurt by the events that transpired--I will always see a black cloud over that stretch of my life. He can't take that away--only time can heal or soften the edges. But an apology or even an attempt to see things from my perspective would have prevented where we are today. I see it as that simple. Yes, I am stubborn, too--he should at least see where I get it from.
Do I see myself as bitter and hateful? I don't know. I have a lot of people in my life that have hurt me repeatedly and that I have forgiven. Only I can say when enough is enough. Only I can decide when someone has caused me enough pain that I don't want to try again or continue the relationship. My heart knows what I can carry and what I can't. I would rather be surrounded by people that bring love, light and happiness into my world. I would rather not have to worry about what they may do to hurt me next or if I can trust them to be a good part of my world. If that makes me hateful and bitter, okay. I can live with that. I see it as self-preservation and life being too short to allow miserable people to place their misery upon me; but I can see how others may call it a different shade of black.
At any rate, I recognize that I have two choices, now.
I can let my father back in and not look back. I can accept that he will always have skewed and hurtful views of me. I can accept that he will always hurt me, maybe without meaning to, maybe other times because of his own reasons. My choice is to allow him back in, knowing who he is, how he views the world, and knowing that I will likely be hurt again. I can let him back in, understanding who he is, that who he is will not change and that we will never have the relationship that I have always wanted. I can let him in knowing that I will never be Daddy's Girl or his Princess. I will still be me. He will still be who he is. And that will inevitably mean more hurt.
Or I can keep my distance, still hurt, and accept that he can not be a part of my life. I can continue to avoid family functions that he attends. I can shut my family out because I don't feel that they are capable of seeing me for who I am. I can shut them out because the recent hurts were deep enough to leave scars that I can't pretend don't exist. I can't change them, as people. I can't change what has already happened. I can't make them see me for who I am. I can't make them see the pain that they have caused me. But I can prevent further hurts at their hands.
The difficulty, as always, is in weighing the pain. Is the pain of having them excluded from my life greater than the potential damage that they may cause me in the future? These are real crossroads that many of us come to when dealing with family members that bring us pain. The choice is never an easy one. No matter how simple it appears to an outsider, the damages done to one's heart simply do not show up visibly to others. The world would surely be an easier place if we could see those wounds. It would be an easier place if we could see ahead like in a Choose Your Own Adventure book and could skip ahead to see where each path led. Should I stay or should I go? If only it were ever so simple...
No comments:
Post a Comment