I've been thinking about my history... my beginnings... when I was growing up. They say that those early years have lots to do with how the final product turns out. And specifically, [they say], the way the father-daughter relationship plays out can have important influence on how one may relate to men later in life.
So what's the story with my Daddy? ...not a very happy story. He left when I was eight. My baby sister was two. And my Mom raised us and struggled to provide for us, remaining single until she died at ninety-five.
There was not really a male parent in my life, except for occasional visits during summer breaks. And I remember thinking, that's never going to happen to me. When I get married, it's forever. I'll do whatever I need to do to stay married to my guy.
Even though my Mom had managed to keep life together for my sister and me, my 'kid's point of view' saw my Dad's leaving as abandonment. And that abandonment became a scary issue for me, all through my grown-up life.
Arguments... even the smallest disagreements.... did not stand a chance in my marriage. I just didn't let them happen. I bent over backwards to keep the peace. Nothing was worth arguing about. Maybe 'he' would leave.
The mere thought of my husband walking out the door and not coming back would send me into a panic of apologies and resolutions to do better. And the sad thing is, my dear husband never even threatened to leave me.
But thinking back, I suspect those early experiences with abandonment that I went through, as a child, influenced my adult years in ways I could not ever have foreseen.Learning to please, to acquiesce, to 'get along', to keep the peace, to not make waves, to be agreeable at any cost... all these strategies became part of me.
Sometimes looking back provides a clearer view.
4 comments:
As per the reader's request, I have removed the previous two comments from this post. I was in hopes that this blog could be a place for conversation and support.
Abandonment. Yes, that's it. That was my biggest fear and the one I shared with my abuser. My dad was emotionally - and often, physically - unavailable as I was growing up. I, too, grew up a people pleaser, the good girl who would do anything to not make waves. My abuser fed into my fears of abandonment, telling me that "Jesus was also abandoned by His family" - telling me that my family was abandoning me, yet he never would. That one word - that one fear - was the hook.
Compassion means "your pain in MY heart." Know that, in reading your blog posts, I have true compassion for you. Our stories are eerily similar.
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