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Family of Origin Insight: Consequences of Conflict
This morning, during a conversation with my mother, a family dynamic I've never been able to describe adequately came into sharp focus.
One of the things Wolfling's father and I have worked hard to teach her is that she has boundaries that deserve to be respected, that empathy and compassion and kindness toward others doesn't mean she has to allow herself to be hurt or run over by the desires of others. Both her father and I were taught as children that other peoples' feelings were of paramount importance, and we were to "be nice" in all but the most extreme situations.
The silver lining of having the twins living upstairs in The Old Place was that Wolfling learned about borders. She learned that being nice sometimes didn't guarantee harmony, and that she was not obligated to buy peace by letting others take advantage of her good nature. It was okay to say she didn't want to play, even if the twins got angry or hurt or cried. It was okay to not want to share her toys. It was okay to say so when someone did something that hurt or upset her, and she was justified in removing herself when that happened, and/or seek adult intervention.
I've never been satisifed with my previous attempts to explain how my socialization was different, but this morning my mother described a conflict situation with these words: If I expressed how upset I was, that would cause a break, so I just try to see it from the other person's side.
I sat there for a moment, running her words again in my mind, then said: Did you hear what you just said? You equated speaking up and saying you'd been hurt with automatically causing a break in the relationship. It's break the relationship or be silent. There's no middle ground to express your feelings and have the relationship survive.
That's the programming that's kept me silent too often in my life: the assumption that defending myself will cause escalation and end the relationship. I wasn't taught to express my feelings in a way that allowed room for discussion, clarification, apologies, or healing.
I think my father had more skill in this area, but he was The Father so he virtually always won any conflict in our family anyway. So we didn't really learn good conflict resolution skills from him, not in terms of family or friends situations.
It all makes so much sense now.
One of the things Wolfling's father and I have worked hard to teach her is that she has boundaries that deserve to be respected, that empathy and compassion and kindness toward others doesn't mean she has to allow herself to be hurt or run over by the desires of others. Both her father and I were taught as children that other peoples' feelings were of paramount importance, and we were to "be nice" in all but the most extreme situations.
The silver lining of having the twins living upstairs in The Old Place was that Wolfling learned about borders. She learned that being nice sometimes didn't guarantee harmony, and that she was not obligated to buy peace by letting others take advantage of her good nature. It was okay to say she didn't want to play, even if the twins got angry or hurt or cried. It was okay to not want to share her toys. It was okay to say so when someone did something that hurt or upset her, and she was justified in removing herself when that happened, and/or seek adult intervention.
I've never been satisifed with my previous attempts to explain how my socialization was different, but this morning my mother described a conflict situation with these words: If I expressed how upset I was, that would cause a break, so I just try to see it from the other person's side.
I sat there for a moment, running her words again in my mind, then said: Did you hear what you just said? You equated speaking up and saying you'd been hurt with automatically causing a break in the relationship. It's break the relationship or be silent. There's no middle ground to express your feelings and have the relationship survive.
That's the programming that's kept me silent too often in my life: the assumption that defending myself will cause escalation and end the relationship. I wasn't taught to express my feelings in a way that allowed room for discussion, clarification, apologies, or healing.
I think my father had more skill in this area, but he was The Father so he virtually always won any conflict in our family anyway. So we didn't really learn good conflict resolution skills from him, not in terms of family or friends situations.
It all makes so much sense now.
no subject
It's a hard one to unlearn, and then to learn how to state boundaries without being confrontational about it, because it's too easy to start out defensive if you're sure you're about to start an argument for asking to be treated decently.
I didn't know how bad I had it until I met some sane people and had to learn a new language. It's like having thought you'd heard an orchestra but really only had the percussion section.
no subject
Your ex-husband and my ex-fiance have a lot in common.
When I tried to express my feelings gently so he would understand, or seek understanding of his perspective when there was conflict, he'd accuse me of "using psychology" on him instead of just fighting, "like normal people do."
Just thinking about those exchanges makes me twitch.