I ran across this post, approaching the holidays, and had a complicated reaction. It felt bitter-sweet, remembering the deep connection of my family from this experience 12 years ago. I also felt the bone-ache of more recent ruptures of family over the past 3-4 years. I love my family. And I don’t always like the dynamics in my family.
Family can be tricky. We so often experience emotional wounding in our family systems that never feels recognized, and can be difficult to heal. Family members have different perspectives, based on our unique biases, the experiences that have designed our nervous systems, the different values, priorities, and personalities we embody. Sometimes, family memories that represent wonder and safety in our younger years, take on new meaning as we recognize subtle, unhealthy generational patterns that others don’t want to see.
From what I hear consistently from people who sit in my office, exploring painful family cycles has become more and more common the last few years. There is more focus on mental and emotional health than ever before, and a powerful trend toward healing early attachment injuries that impact our adult relational lives.
There is often one person in a family system who begins to see things differently—who breaks away from the traditional cycle of engagement, and chooses a different path, or points out what feels like dysfunction in the family. This, of course, disrupts the family system, and exposes areas that may be weaker than what other family members want to admit. The person pointing to what feels unhealthy disrupts the system that has worked “well enough,” and often, this disruption is not a welcome one.
I’ve always loved exploring the underlying “why’s” of relational dynamics, always willing to consider others’ perspectives., and do the gritty work of healing—I’m a believer that this work is one of the most important life tasks before us. I also recognize that my love of digging into that grit and the underlying patterns of relational dynamics is not shared by other members of my family of origin. And it’s been necessary for me to grieve that reality—that within my family, I’m mostly alone in this quest.
I’ve also come to develop deep gratitude for our chosen families—for me, meaning those who choose to do the deeper work with me, when those in my family of origin aren’t interested. This can often feel incredibly healing in designing what family means to us., and developing healthier attachment styles and relational habits.
Some questions to consider as you read the following:
What does family mean to you?
How do you intentionally work toward healthier relational dynamics in your own life?
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December 24, 2011
Earlier today, I wept. And I mean wept like an out of control infant. And as I wept, four women from my family sat—my mom, my sister and two of my adult nieces—witnessing me and, ultimately, holding the space for me to let fly some of my deepest hurts and fears that are currently manifesting in my world.
All of us talked, shared, fought, argued… and much of it wasn’t pretty. Much of it was connected to deep and unresolved family issues that are merely triggered through current hurts. It was messy and ugly and even mean at times. Later, after we’d had time to process and talk more, it softened. We softened.
So as I sink into resting my body and mind tonight—Christmas Eve—my children and their cousins dreaming of dancing sugar plums, cozily nested in the living room fort they’ve inhabited for three days now, I’m struck with awe as I take in the meaning, for me anyway, of family.
Big Fat Greek
I have a big, fat Greek family. And we’re full of all sorts of big, fat Greek drama and history that, like so many families, could fill volumes with both tragedy and hope. And I love my family—I love the culture and the character. I love the quirkiness and the downright madness.
When I can get objective about the defensive character strategies and generational patterns and overall dysfunction, there is a part of me that ultimately loves that too.
Then there are those moments when I’m not objective at all. And, as a therapist and a person who’s practiced mindfulness and tolerance and calming my nervous system in the face of distress, and healthy communication… for me to get completely “caught” in the mayhem—completely subject to some story—is not at all a comfortable place to be. In fact it kind of wrecks my ego and challenges my whole identity.
Getting Messy
Today, I became really uncomfortable. And I got messy. Then right within all the messiness of my own head, something occurred to me. I felt trust—(something else that isn’t altogether comfortable). And I thought, how astounding to know that no matter how childlike I get—no matter that I’m not the skilled therapist 24/7, there’s a place where I can lose myself?
While I don’t necessarily think my whole family understands or is comfortable with the value of the mess, if we can stay in that messiness long enough, what we can get—what I got today, was that no matter how angry or ugly I am, I know beyond anything that they’ll all still be here. And when I can allow myself to be vulnerable enough to actually feel that—I breathe a little deeper and something really good happens in my body.
So, we salvaged Christmas. We did the repair work—not all of it but we definitely got a start for the New Year. And I sunk my heels in a little deeper, into the knowing that I’m intimately connected with this group of people whom I call Family.
Our families are never exactly as we would have them. And yet, if they were, how would we be challenged to take flight from them, become the people we have chosen to be, and still remain connected to our original foundation? It’s through differentiating—stepping back just far enough so that we can see the people we love—that we find the true strength in Family.
Many Blessings to you and to your families—all of the people who represent FAMILY in your life—in the New Year.
For the Love of Your Life!
Angie
