The “I attack / you defend” pattern works extremely well for your mother, because it cements her one-up position with you. You’ve almost certainly become an expert at explaining yourself, denying that you’ve done anything wrong, rationalizing, giving excuses, giving reasons, and apologizing. But you probably don’t realize that every time you reach for those familiar responses, even though you think you’re defending yourself, you’ve actually been forced onto the defensive—and there’s a huge difference between the two. To defend is to protect from harm. But defensiveness signals weakness, and an eagerness to avoid challenge or criticism. It never positions you as an equal.
Here are some well-used phrases from the defensiveness playbook:
• I am not.
• No I didn’t.
• How can you say that about me?
• Why do you always … ?
• Why can’t you be reasonable for a change?
• That’s crazy.
• I never said/did that.
• I only did it because …
• I didn’t mean to.
• I was just trying to …
• But you promised …
Anxiety, worry, fear, and generous amounts of vulnerability are embedded in every defensive word you say.
Defensive language is your enemy. Each time you’re defensive, you create an opening for your mother, and signal your willingness to be drawn into an endless loop of accusation and defense that resolves nothing. Automatically you’ve backed yourself into a corner and invited her to bring on the pressure. On the defensive, you look and feel weak—and you are.
But you can break this cycle, and you can do it so easily it may feel like magic—by changing the words you use.
Sharon: Standing Up to Abusive Criticism
Sharon, an MBA who was working as a doctor’s receptionist, was seeing me for panic attacks that had flared up after some recent conflicts with her highly critical, narcissistic mother. (You can see our earlier sessions in the chapter on narcissistic mothers.) Writing her letter had helped her begin to see herself in a more positive light, but she hadn’t been able to calm her volatile exchanges with her mother.
SHARON: “It happened again, Susan. It was Aunt Mona’s birthday, so I went to lunch with her and my mother. I love Mona, and we were catching up, since we hadn’t seen each other in a while. She asked what I was doing now, and before I could say a word, my mother jumps in. ‘It’s a tragedy,’ she says. ‘She’s working in a doctor’s office. As a receptionist.’ She said it like I was a garbage collector or something. Then she said, ‘All that education down the drain.’ And with a kind of tragic little laugh she says, ‘She’s my little failure.’ ”
I asked Sharon how she’d responded.
SHARON: “You would’ve been so proud of me, Susan. I stood up for myself. ‘I am not a failure,’ I told her. ‘I’m proud of myself! I like my job, the people are great, and it makes me happy. Why can’t you be happy about that? I didn’t want a high-stress job. Why do you always need to humiliate me?’ That shut her up for a moment, but of course she had to have the last word. ‘It’s all right, dear,’ she said. ‘I know you’re sensitive about that. But you need to straighten up. You’re not always going to have me around as a safety net.’ As if she ever had been. I was fuming. Fortunately, Mona changed the subject and Mom let things drop.”
I asked her how she felt about the exchange.
SHARON: “Not so great, to be honest… . I did stand up for myself, and I thought I would feel great afterward. I know I did in the moment. But when it was all over, I still felt like hell. And I can’t quite figure out what went wrong.”
I explained to Sharon that her mother’s dismissive and insulting comments (“She’s my little failure”) had pounced on a painful old theme—You’re not good enough. And almost immediately, the familiar loop of insults began to play in Sharon’s head again. Her first impulse was to protect herself and defend against further hurt.
“The problem is,” I told her, “the strategies you used to protect yourself made things worse, not better. It seems like the natural thing to do, but every time you try to justify what you’ve done, or ask ‘why’ questions, like ‘Why do you need to humiliate me?’ you’re actually giving your mother ammunition. You’re almost certain to wind up feeling small, humiliated, and less-than, even if you yelled back.”
I explained that as long as she was defensive, her mother was in control of the conversation and the agenda. Sharon’s defensive responses were inviting more critical comments, more jabs. And as she felt more attacked and frustrated, it was easy to revert to behavior that was pretty ineffective. “I know you don’t have kids of your own, but I’m sure you’ve seen kids fighting,” I told her. “One says ‘You cheated!’ The other says ‘I did not!’ And the fight goes back and forth like a Ping-Pong game: ‘Did not!’ ‘Did too!’ ‘Did not!’ ‘Did too!’ When you’re essentially doing the same thing with your mother, it’s easy to come away feeling like a five-year-old.”
I suggested we do some role-playing, a treatment technique I have used for many years. Role-playing is an extremely effective way to model new behavior and cut to the heart of an issue.
SUSAN: “You be your mother and I’ll be you, and I’ll show you some far better responses than the ones you’ve been using. It’s easy to learn them, and they stop the critical person in her tracks, at least temporarily, and give you time to regroup. To start, pick one of your mother’s pet criticisms of you. I want you to sound as much like her as you can.”
SHARON (as mother): “I just don’t understand how you can throw away your MBA so you can answer phones and file things. But you’ve never listened to me. If you had, you wouldn’t be such a disappointment.”
SUSAN (as Sharon): “I’m sure you see it that way.”
SHARON (after a long pause): “Really? That’s it? Susan, I don’t know what to say to that.”
SUSAN: “Exactly. Neither will your mother. When you take the defensiveness away, there’s not a lot for her to hold on to. Let’s try it again.”
SHARON (as mother): “I hate to say it, but you’ve really let us down. I guess you’ll always be my little failure.”
SUSAN (as Sharon): “I don’t accept your definition of me.”
SHARON: “That’s all I say? It’s so … abrupt. Shouldn’t I say more?”
SUSAN: “No, that’s all. A simple statement will do. Don’t add, don’t embellish, and don’t think you need to carry on the conversation. It will probably feel awkward to do this at first, but it will get more comfortable the more you practice.”
I gave Sharon the following list of nondefensive responses and asked her to memorize them and to practice using them with a friend. As you try this, think about your mother’s most common criticisms and the words she uses to pressure you, then select the responses that fit the situation. Practice them on your own until they feel comfortable and automatic. It will take thought and effort to use them at first with your mother because they replace the autopilot responses that most people rely on. But I promise you, the results will be worth it.
Nondefensive phrases:
• Really?
• I see.
• I understand.
• That’s interesting.
• That’s your choice.
• I’m sure you see it that way.
• You’re entitled to your opinion.
• I’m sorry you’re upset.
• Let’s talk about this when you’re calmer.
• Yelling and threatening aren’t going to solve anything.
• This subject is off-limits.
• I don’t choose to have this conversation.
• Guilt peddling and playing the pity card are not going to work anymore.
• I know you’re upset.
• This is nonnegotiable.
Ninety-nine times out of a hundred, these phrases will act like a referee coming in to stop a fight. They nip conflict in th
e bud. You won’t need them when someone is pleasant, but they’re essential when you’re being blamed, bullied, attacked, or criticized.
I told Sharon that I was willing to bet that once she began using this new language, her panic attacks would significantly lessen. She wouldn’t be so emotionally naked and vulnerable anymore. Now she’d have weapons. And as she pointed out when she reported back at our next session, she had a shield.
SHARON: “Mom was just flummoxed when I didn’t take her bait and start defending myself. I felt pretty silly practicing my lines beforehand, but it was great to have them in mind when I needed them. With this script, I feel like I have a moat around me and she can’t get to me the way she used to. I think it’s really going to help. It already has.”
YOUR FEELINGS WILL CATCH UP WITH YOUR NEW BEHAVIOR
You may be nervous about what your mother will do when you begin using nondefensive communication. But don’t let anxiety stand in the way of putting this new behavior into practice. It doesn’t matter if your stomach is in a knot or your neck is tight the first time you try it. It doesn’t matter what’s going on inside you. Change your behavior and the feelings will catch up.
The pain, humiliation, and frustration you felt when your mother had the upper hand will dramatically ease, and you’ll feel your pride and power expanding. But you’ve got to take the first step. The new learning can’t just stay in your head—you have to take action. Until now, your mother has had the power. You can change all that. Make a commitment to yourself that you won’t let fear or anxiety control you, and if you slip, it’s okay. You’ll get it right the next time, and little by little, nondefensiveness will become more automatic.
Lauren: Pulling Off the Tentacles of Enmeshment, One by One
Lauren, a stockbroker with an overly enmeshed mother who insisted on daily checkins and an all-access pass to her daughter’s schedule, was certain that her mother would “have a cow” if she tried to regain some power in the relationship. And she was nervous about trying. (You can see our earlier sessions in the chapter on overly enmeshed mothers.)
LAUREN: “What I really want to do is stick to my guns and just not call her when I don’t feel like it. But I know exactly what will happen. She’ll call and read me the riot act, and pretty soon she’ll be talking about how she was sitting in the dark waiting for me to call… . And I’ll cave.”
As I did with Sharon, I suggested to Lauren that we do some role-playing. I’d play her mother and let her play herself so we could see her usual responses.
SUSAN (as mother): “I know you asked me not to bother you at work, but I’ve been so worried about you since you didn’t call last night. I was sitting here, wondering if you were okay, wondering if something terrible had happened to you. I tried to watch TV last night, but all I could do was think of you in a car wreck. How could you make me worry like that? What’s happened to you? Have I done something to upset you? You’ve hurt me and worried me. I didn’t get a bit of sleep last night. Don’t you care about me?”
LAUREN: “God, Susan, you’ve been tapping my phone… . Okay, here goes… . Mom, of course I care about you. I’ve been calling every night for years. I just missed one night. I don’t think that’s a federal offense. Look at all the places I take you and all the time I spend with you. I’ve been a very devoted daughter.”
susan (as mother): “That’s not what it feels like to me. Not after last night. You don’t know how much I worry… .”
LAUREN: “I feel like a total wuss, Susan. I know we’re just pretending, but I feel guilty as hell. How am I possibly going to tell her I’m not going to call after all that?”
I told Lauren that many times, healthy new behavior has to precede emotional change. When you start to say “No, I’m not going to do what you ask just because you insist,” you will probably feel wobbly and guilty. But the more you do it, the easier it becomes, and the more the anxiety will dissipate. We all have to behave in healthy ways and trust that the healthy feelings will catch up. They always do.
Lauren’s face lit up as we practiced nondefensive responses to her mother’s pressure. She especially liked “I’m sorry you’re upset” as we worked with it because it sounded kind, but it made her feel powerful.
SUSAN (as mother): “You had me so worried when you didn’t call last night. I didn’t sleep a minute. How could you be so thoughtless?”
LAUREN: “I’m sorry you’re upset. I certainly didn’t intend to worry you.”
SUSAN (as mother): “You know how much it eases my mind to have our little phone checkins. Is that too much to ask?” (I raised my voice and acted as if I were crying.) “Don’t you care about me anymore?”
LAUREN: “Of course I do. What a ridiculous question… . Whoops. I fell into the trap. Can we try it again?”
SUSAN: “Sure.”
SUSAN (as mother): “Don’t you care about me anymore?”
LAUREN: “Oh God. I can’t think of what to say.”
SUSAN: “How about something like, ‘Let’s talk about this when you’re calmer.’ ”
SUSAN (as mother): “I can’t ever talk to you. I’m going upstairs to rest.”
LAUREN: “Can I really do that, Susan? Don’t I sound like a snotty bitch?”
At first, when you begin to use your nondefensive phrases, you may think you’re doing something outrageous or wrong. You’re not used to letting leading questions and statements dangle in front of you without reacting. And you’re certainly not used to letting your mother’s upset go by marked only by a neutral phrase.
There’s no way of predicting how your mother will react to your new behavior; she’s not used to being challenged effectively. A narcissistic mother might well respond to your nondefensiveness with anger if you tap her narcissistic rage. If she’s enmeshed, like Lauren’s mother, she may pull out the pity weapon. I can’t cover every conceivable reaction your mother will give you. All I can say is this: Stay nondefensive. The list of nondefensive responses above will serve you well no matter what she does. If you need to cut short a conversation because she has become enraged or verbally abusive, just say, “Let’s talk about this when you’re calmer. I need to go now.”
This kind of communication will seem like a new pair of shoes that pinches and feels as if it doesn’t belong to you. But comfort will come with practice. The anticipation is always worse than the doing, and you’ll find that the relief and pride in holding your ground effectively is much stronger than your fears.
Don’t worry if you slip into old defensive patterns. It will happen—no one gets this right all the time—but you’ll have many occasions to try again. Keep weaving nondefensiveness into your relationship with your mother. The more you do this, the more comfortable you’ll get.
It’s impossible to overstate the importance of learning these skills and making them part of your everyday behavior. If you can do it with your mother, you can do it with anyone.
Chapter 11
Setting Boundaries
“I would never have believed I had the right
to say no.”
Nondefensive communication effectively deflects and de-escalates conflict. It allows you to respond to even the most inflammatory statements in a cool, centered way.
To shift the balance of power in the relationship the most effectively, though, you will need to do more than just respond nondefensively. You’ll have to begin defining your own needs and wants and communicating them to your mother. That requires setting boundaries—limits and rules for your interactions with her.
Imagine living in a house that had no doors, windows without panes, and a yard with no fence around it. With no secure barriers to protect your space, privacy, and safety, you’d feel exposed and vulnerable. That’s what you’ve probably experienced all your life in your relationship with your mother. Unloving mothers don’t recognize the boundaries between themselves and you—it’s a trait they all share. They assume that their likes and needs are more important than yours. Some invade yo
ur physical space. All impose their judgment, priorities, opinions, and preferences on you. They take over, and they insist that that’s what good daughters let their mothers do.
Setting boundaries changes all that. It allows you to define both your physical and emotional space and to declare dominion over your own life. Physical boundaries have to do with what you’ll allow people to do in your physical presence and inside your house. Emotional boundaries define how people are allowed to treat you. The letter-writing work described earlier goes a long way toward helping women understand the emotional separation between themselves and their mothers, but even if you’ve done that work, it may still be difficult for you to separate yourself from your mother’s actions and responses today. The questions below will help you assess how much you’re still playing by your mother’s emotional rules:
• Do you still take responsibility for your mother’s feelings and needs?
• Do you still prioritize her feelings and needs while neglecting your own?
• Do you still become upset because your mother is upset?
If you answer yes to one or more of these questions, your emotional boundaries are weak. You’re living in emotional territory ruled by your mother, not by you.
It is not surprising that women who have been taught that their feelings and needs can’t possibly matter compared with their mothers’ have weak emotional boundaries. If you grew up this way, drawing a line between your emotions and your mother’s may feel wrong—and completely foreign. But it will equip your emotional world with the doors and fences that need to be in place before you can have the kind of independent life you want.
You are not responsible for your mother’s life, moods, feelings, or distorted perceptions of you. They belong to her. And no matter how guilty it makes you feel, your job is to create a boundary between her life and yours.
Mothers Who Can't Love: A Healing Guide for Daughters Page 18