DIALOGUE 1
“Jane, you are so damned sure of yourself. You’re impossible to argue with because you’re always right and you don’t really listen to my opinions in any open way. You come on so strong that no one can argue with you. I’m really fed up with your know-it-all attitude. When I give my opinion, you pronounce it true or not true, like you’re God or something. You make me feel totally insecure about my own thinking. And you always take over and manipulate things to get your way.”
DIALOGUE 2
“You know, Jane, I’ve been thinking about the problem that I have in our relationship. I think it has to do with how difficult it is for me to make decisions and take charge of things. I didn’t call the vet the other night because when you expressed such confidence in your opinion, I began to doubt my own. And when you were critical of my opinion and put me down for being so worried—which I don’t like—I reacted by being even more ready to back down. I’m aware that I do this a lot. And I’m planning to work harder to make my own decisions and stand behind them. I’m sure I’ll make mistakes and our relationship might be more tense for a while—but I’m just not satisfied with things as they are. However, I’m also aware that the women in my family haven’t done too well making their own decisions—so it may not be easy for me to be a pioneer in this way.”
What about dialogue 1? Some relationships thrive on tough confrontation, and feedback of this sort and fighting it out may be viewed by both partners as a valuable and spicy aspect of the relationship. For all we know, Jane might respond to dialogue 1 by becoming thoughtful and saying, “You know, I’ve been told that before by other people in my life. I think you have something there. I’m sorry for coming on so strong and I’ll try to watch it.”
This dialogue does, however, reflect Stephanie’s confusion about the matter of individual responsibility. Can you spot the problem? She holds Jane responsible for Jane’s behavior (putting Stephanie down), which is fair enough; but she also holds Jane responsible for Stephanie’s behavior (feeling insecure and manipulated and failing to stand firmly behind her own opinion), which is not fair at all. Blaming of this sort blurs the boundaries between self and other in a close relationship.
What about dialogue 2? Here, Stephanie shares something about herself and does not assume to be an expert on Jane. She talks about her own dilemma in the relationship and takes responsibility for her own participation in the pattern. While dialogue 1 might lead to a further escalation of an already stressful situation, dialogue 2 would probably calm things down a bit and foster greater objectivity on both women’s parts.
Which dialogue better suits your personal style? For me, it depends on the relationship. With my husband, Steve, I sometimes dissipate tension by fighting dialogue-1 style, although with less frequency and intensity as I get older. At work, however, and during visits from long-distance friends and family, I end up feeling much better if I communicate in dialogue-2 style, and I find that these relationships do better, too. It all depends on what the circumstances are, what your goals are, and what in the past has left you feeling better or worse in the long run.
Of course, what is most important is not what Stephanie says to Jane but what she does. Next time around, perhaps Stephanie will listen to Jane and consider her perspective but then take responsibility to make her own reasoned decision about what she will and won’t do. Stephanie’s communication style will make little difference if she does not modify her own underfunctioning position.
As we learn to identify relationship patterns, we are faced with a peculiar paradox: On the one hand, our job is to learn to take responsibility for our thoughts, feelings, and behavior and to recognize that other people are responsible for their own. Yet, at the same time, how we react with others has a great deal to do with how they react with us. We cannot not influence a relationship pattern. Once a relationship is locked into a circular pattern, the whole cycle will change when one person takes the responsibility for changing her or his own part in the sequence.
Assuming this responsibility does not mean we take a self-blaming or self-deprecating position. Learning to observe and change our behavior is a self-loving process that can’t take place in an atmosphere of self-criticism or self-blame. Such attitudes frequently undermine, rather than enhance, our ability to observe relationship patterns. They may even be part of the game we learn to play in which the unconscious goal is to safeguard relationships by being one down in order to help the other person feel one up.
In contrast, it is a position of dignity and strength that allows us to say to ourselves or others, “You know, I observe that this is what I am doing in this relationship and I am now going to work to change it.” Such owning of responsibility does not let the other person off the hook. To the contrary, we have seen how it brings our “separateness” into bold relief and confronts others with the fact that we alone bear the ultimate responsibility for defining our selves and the terms of our own lives. It respectfully allows others to do the same.
WHO’S DOING THE HOUSEWORK?
After countless housework battles with her husband, Lisa decided to cease and desist from the old fights and begin to clarify her own problem. She chose a moment when things were relatively calm and close between them and said, “Rich, I’m having a problem with the amount of housework I do. When I take on more than half the responsibility for cooking and cleaning, I end up feeling resentful, because the way I see it, I’m pulling more than my fair share of the load. I’m exhausted as well. I guess my biggest problem is that I am tired too much of the time and I need to find a way to conserve my energy and have more time for myself.” Then Lisa told Rich specifically what she would like him to do in order to help out.
Lisa did not criticize her husband or instruct him on how a good man behaves; rather, she was sharing her feelings about a situation that had become increasingly problematic for her. When Rich said, “Well, other women I know seem to manage just fine,” Lisa said lightly, “Well, I’m not other women. I’m me.”
Several months later, Rich was doing nothing more than taking the garbage out and tending to yard work and Lisa was still angry. As she and I talked, however, I became aware that she had made no change in her own behavior. As usual, she was entertaining Rich’s colleagues, doing his laundry, cooking dinner, washing the dishes, even vacuuming his study. Lisa’s words were saying, “I’m tired and resentful and I need to do something about it.” Her actions, however, were maintaining the status quo. She was not taking responsibility for doing something about her problem.
But why should she? Isn’t Rich the one who should change his behavior? Is it not his responsibility to behave fairly and considerately toward his wife? Lisa is forever trying to initiate change in this relationship—so, isn’t it Rich’s turn?
You and I may think so, but that’s beside the point. Rich does not have a problem with the current situation. He is satisfied with things as they are and he is not interested in making a change. If Lisa does not proceed to take care of what is her problem, no one else will do it for her, her husband included.
When the day came that Lisa could no longer stand her predicament, she began to make her actions congruent with her words. First, Lisa figured out a plan. She made a list of tasks that she would continue to do (for example, a clean living room and kitchen were extremely important to her, so she would not let things pile up here) and a list of those that she would no longer do. For these, she hoped that Rich would fill in, but if not, they would just live without their being done. Then she shared the plan with Rich and put it into force.
Lisa stood behind her position as Rich tested her out for two months by becoming even more of a slob than usual. Lisa continued to do more of the housework because a clean house was more important to her than it was to Rich. She found other ways, however, to save her time and energy. For three nights a week she made sandwiches for her and the kids for dinner and let Rich prepare his own meals when he came home from work. If Rich invited his friends
or colleagues to dinner, she did not shop or cook for the event, although she was glad to help out. Lisa carefully sorted out where she wanted to put her time and energy and where she could conserve it.
Lisa made these changes out of a sense of responsibility for herself—not as a move against Rich. If she had gone “on strike,” or this was no more than a plot to shape Rich up or to get back at him, the probable outcome for this couple might well have been an escalation of their difficulties.
As a postscript, I might add that as Rich made some changes of his own, Lisa, in reaction, made some countermoves. If you recall, “Please change!” and “Change back!” are the mixed messages that we often give each other. When Rich took the initiative to do housework, Lisa was right there to offer unsolicited advice or to criticize him for not being thorough enough. To ask a person to do more housework (or parenting) and then say “Do it the way I would do it” or “Do it the way I want you to” is a move that blocks change. If Lisa is truly ready to have Rich more involved with the housework (which means that she is willing to give up some control in this area), she must also be ready to let Rich do it his own way. If she wants him to stop underfunctioning in this area, she must be willing to stop overfunctioning. Obviously, Rich may never clean house up to her standards, which are likely to be different from his. However, if Lisa can credit his attempts and truly stay out (unless he asks for her advice or feedback), his housekeeping skills will get better in time.
Lisa had an additional problem as Rich began to change: She not only wanted him to do more of the housework; she wanted him to want to. “He did the dishes last night,” she moaned, “but he sulked and pouted for the rest of the evening. It’s just not worth it.” Again, we see Lisa’s discomfort with change. Sulking and pouting is Rich’s problem, and it is not Lisa’s business or responsibility to fix or take away his feelings. Although no one has died from sulking yet, women, the emotional rescuers of the world, can have a terribly difficult time allowing others just to sit with their feelings and learn to handle them. If Lisa can avoid becoming distant and critical, and if she can allow Rich the space to sulk as he pleases without reacting to it, his sulking will eventually subside. But when she says “It’s just not worth it,” this is Lisa’s problem and reflects her own mixed feelings about changing a long-standing relationship pattern.
Why should it be easy for Lisa to relinquish control in an area where female authority and competence have gone unquestioned generation after generation? When Lisa does housework, she is linked to her mother, to her grandmothers, and to all the women who have come before. It is part of her heritage and tradition, to say nothing of the fact that homemaking is important and valuable work—no matter how little recognition it gets. Sure, housework can be tedious and daily living easier when it is shared, but it is understandable that Lisa may have some complicated feelings about it all. And perhaps Lisa has few other areas where she, rather than Rich, can assume the role of the competent expert.
One last question: If Lisa is serious about change, why not a good let-it-all-hang-out fight? Can’t Lisa let Rich know by the volume of her voice that she really means business? Nothing is wrong with fighting if it leaves Lisa feeling better and if it is part of a process by which Lisa gains a greater clarity that she will not proceed with things as usual. In ongoing battles of this sort, the single most important factor is not whether we fight or not, or whether our voice is raised or calm; it is the growing inner conviction that we can no longer continue to overfunction (in Lisa’s case, on the domestic scene), for our own sake.
Emotional Overfunctioning—
More “Women’s Work”
Earlier we noted the ways in which de-selfing and under-functioning are prescribed for women—and so they are. Thus, when we have our own area of overfunctioning, we may do it with a vengeance while complaining all the way, as Lisa did with housework. In addition to picking up someone else’s socks, how else are we likely to overfunction?
Often in relationships, women overfunction by assuming a “rescuing” or “fix-it” position. We behave as if it is our responsibility to shape up other people or solve their problems, and further, that it is in our power to do so. We may become reactive to every move that a person makes or fails to make, our emotions ranging from annoyance to intense anger or despair. And when we realize that our attempts to be helpful are not working, do we stop and do something different? Of course not! As we saw with Sandra and Larry (Chapter 3), we may redouble our unsuccessful efforts, only to become angrier and angrier at that underfunctioning individual who is not shaping up.
What a difficult time we may have maintaining the degree of separateness that allows others the space to manage their own pain and solve their own problems! Men also have this difficulty balancing the forces of separateness and togetherness; however, they tend to handle anxiety by emotional distancing and disengaging (thus, sacrificing the “we” for the “I”), whereas women more frequently handle anxiety by fusion and emotional overfunctioning (thus, sacrificing the “I” for the “we”). The sex-role division for these two unhappy and out-of-balance alternatives is hardly surprising. Our society undervalues the importance of close relationships for men and fosters their emotional isolation and disconnectedness. Women, on the other hand, receive an opposite message that encourages us to be excessively focused on, and fused with, the problems of others, rather than putting our primary “worry energy” into our own problems. When we do not put our primary emotional energy into solving our own problems, we take on other people’s problems as our own.
But what is wrong with taking responsibility for others? In some respects, nothing. For generations, women have gained both identity and esteem from our deep investment in protecting, helping, nurturing, and comforting others. Surely, connectedness to others, empathy and loving regard for our fellow human beings, and investment in facilitating the growth of the young are virtues of the highest order for both women and men. The problem arises when we are excessively reactive to other people’s problems, when we assume responsibility for things that we are not responsible for, and when we attempt to control things that are not in our control. When we overfunction for another individual, we end up very angry, and in the process, we facilitate the growth of no one.
The saga of overfunctioning will come more clearly to light as we unravel the story of Lois and her brother. As you read, keep in mind that it could as easily be Lois and her son, her grandfather, her mother-in-law, her employee, or her friend.
“MY BROTHER IS A MESS!”
“I don’t mean to sound unsympathetic or callous,” explained Lois, who sounded as if she was about to disown her younger brother, Brian. “Obviously, I’m very concerned about Brian because he’s so screwed up. But I also find myself angry with him. Two things that he does irritate the hell out of me: First, he always calls in the middle of some kind of crisis and wants to borrow some money and ask for advice. Then he spends the money—which he never pays back—and ignores the advice. I’ve referred him to two therapists, but he didn’t stick with it. I’ve suggested books for him to read to get his life together. I’ve talked on the phone with him when he calls me—collect, of course—and I tell him what he can do to get his act together. Brian listens and then he doesn’t do it. I’ve tried some tough confrontation and that doesn’t work, either. I’m feeling drained and I’m feeling angry. Yet, he’s my brother and I can’t turn him away. He’s alienated my parents and he has nowhere else to go.”
What is the pattern of interaction between Lois and her brother? Brian calls, saying “Help!” Lois jumps in to help. Brian then continues his old ways, and sooner or later he calls again with a new crisis. Lois takes either a tough or a sympathetic approach, but in either case she continues to tell her little brother (who is twenty-four years old) how to shape up. Brian does not shape up. Lois gets angry and the cycle continues.
So, who is to blame for this merry-go-round? Hopefully, by now you are no longer thinking in these terms. Rel
ationships are circular (A and B are mutually reinforcing) rather than linear (A causes B or B causes A). Once a pattern is established in a relationship, it is perpetuated by both parties.
What is Lois’s part in keeping the circular dance going? The more she overfunctions, the more Brian will underfunction—which means that the more Lois is helpful, the more Brian will need her help. The more Lois fails to express her own doubts, vulnerability, or incompetence to Brian, the more Brian will express enough for both of them. The more emotional Lois gets about Brian’s problems, the more he won’t care enough about himself. Lois’s big-sisterly sense of responsibility may have many positive aspects. Nonetheless, she is functioning at the expense of her brother’s competence.
Does this mean that Lois is responsible for her brother’s problems? Not at all. She does not make Brian incompetent to manage his life any more than Brian makes Lois rescue him. Lois’s role as rescuer and Brian’s as rescuee have their roots in family patterns that can be traced back for generations. They are each responsible for their own behavior, and Lois’s behavior is fifty percent of the problem she complains of. What are your thoughts about the specific steps Lois might take to change it?
Dance of Anger: A Woman's Guide to Changing the Patterns of Intimate Relationships Page 13