by John Friel
Communicating Feelings
As the famous psychotherapist Carl Rogers (1973) has suggested, any persistent feeling needs to be expressed, no matter how trivial it may seem at the time. In relationships that work well, these feelings are aired and dealt with before they become deep resentments. They are also shared tactfully, with respect for the other’s dignity.
For example: “Tom, I need to talk to you about the amount of time we spend together. I love you very much, yet lately I have been feeling that I don’t have enough time to myself, and I don’t want those feelings to interfere with what I feel for you . . . ”
Partner Choice
Family systems theorists speak of how we re-enact our family of origins in our adult lives, so there is some truth to the old Freudian idea that we marry our father or our mother. But people get confused by this idea because they only look at the surface characteristics of themselves and Mom and Dad.
If Mom was overly emotional and clingy, we might marry someone who on the surface is strong and independent. If the systems from which we came are dysfunctional, then that strong independent woman will be foreclosed with a dependent child living within her body. When her dependency comes out, it may take the form of her being demanding, pushy, and critical. Her fear causes that, and it is no fun to be around.
Or she may reveal her dependency in letting you walk all over her—you being the offender and she being the victim. She will be competent and independent at work, and helpless in her relationship with you.
What actually happened here is that you reacted to Mom’s helplessness and dependency, became the offender like your dad, and married someone who you thought was the opposite of Mom but who really wasn’t. Reacting to our families of origin means that we are not free of them. They still control us if we have to react to them instead of making our own choices based on a clear identity.
Unclear Boundaries
We get tangled up in each other’s lives too much. Your sadness becomes my sadness. Or I expect you to meet all of my needs and demand this. I want you to fill my cup, and I don’t know how to stop asking and demanding. I push you for sex when you don’t want it. I make you stay up half the night to “talk about problems.” I get jealous if you have friends, especially of the opposite sex. In other words, I don’t let you be you. I blame you for my unhappiness instead of doing what I need to do to become happier. We started out as separate people before we met.
If we are unrecovering Adult Children, we quickly get so tangled up that we can’t have intimacy because we’ve lost our identity.
Separation Problems
Separation is part of life. A big part of it. Life is a continual coming together and separating. We have trouble with this because we get frightened that if the other goes away, they’ll never come back. So we create lots of conflict around our separations. We fight when one of us is about to leave for a four-day business trip. Then we harangue the other upon their return. After being apart for the day, we meet at night and argue about the intimacy that we don’t have.
The German poet Rilke described love as “two solitudes (that) protect and touch and greet each other.” A big part of why we can’t be this way is due to the next issue below, which is . . .
All The Eggs In One Basket
We invest way too much in our few close relationships. We expect our spouse or partner to be all things to us—Mother, Father, Lover, Friend, Tennis Partner, Parent of Our Children, Only Confidant, Therapist, Bridge Partner, Babysitter, Provider and . . . Nobody can be all things to one person. In one of our favorite books on the subject, The Road Less Traveled, Scott Peck says that we don’t truly love each other unless we can live without each other (Peck, 1978), and we agree.
Control Issues
This is related to our fear of abandonment and, ultimately, to our fear of death. We are mortal. We cannot prevent our physical death, and we cannot make someone love us. The power struggles that we get into with each other are about this need to control the uncontrollable. In fact, that’s what addictions are about. It is very common for us to act out our addictions much more when we are alone, or when that spouse or lover of ours is on a four-day business trip. When they are home with us, we try to control the situation by controlling them, which only pushes them farther away from us.
Handling Conflicts
Conflict in relationships is unavoidable. Whenever two people get close to each other for a while, their very separateness will lead to differences of opinion, needs or values. This is natural. In healthy relationships, these conflicts get settled. In unhealthy ones, they drag on and on and on; or both people compromise so much that they both feel bored.
Common Interests?
This one is very hard to pin down. Do we need to have all of the same interests? Some of the same interests? A few? Is it better to have none at all?
It certainly helps to have some interests in common, just as it helps to have some of the same personality traits in common. But by no means do we have to be the same. We know of successful couples who are very similar in interests and personality, and we know of some who are very different. What seems to be most important is that we meet each other’s needs in ways that are meaningful to our partner or friend, that we share a “global life view,” and that the relationship is life-enhancing rather than draining for us.
Dialogue on Intimacy
We sometimes walk a fine line between love and dependency. True intimacy is a precious gift that is freely given with no strings attached. At the same time, we must have reciprocity in our relationships, which sounds at first like a contradiction. Misinterpreted, this reciprocity turns into the “Owe-Pay Syndrome” that we discussed above. Actually, it isn’t.
The tough part is that we must want give-and-take in our relationships. There must be enough for us in the relationship to want to give something back. We cannot give something back simply because the other person demands it. And we cannot demand from another what we want from them. We can only ask. This is truly a paradox. For us Adult Children, it is the toughest paradox of all for us to transcend.
Think about the following exchange between partners:
B: I’ve been reading this book about intimacy between Adult Children, and it says that we have a tendency to either get enmeshed with each other or get too detached from each other. What do you think we do?
R: Hmmm . . . I don’t know, I think we have a pretty good balance between the two.
B: Yeah, I guess so . . .
R: What’s the matter? You sound a little sad.
B: Oh, I don’t know. I mean, don’t you think we get too far apart a little too often?
R: Not really. I think we have a good balance between our own separate lives and the life that we share. But obviously you don’t. What’s the matter?
B: I just don’t think that we have that great of a relationship. Yeah, that’s what I think.
R: Well, you don’t have to have a fit about it! Can’t we just talk it out?
B: Have a fit about it? You’re being judgmental again!
R: Judgmental? All I said was “Don’t have a fit about it.” Why does that make me judgmental?
B: Having a fit is supposed to be okay?
R: Oh, c’mon, You know what I meant.
B: Yeah. You meant I was unstable.
R: Give me a break, will you?
B: What do you mean, then?
R: Let’s stop for a minute.
B: Okay.
R: You were reading this book about Adult Children, and it triggered something that’s been gnawing at you. I care about you. I want to know what’s gnawing at you.
B: Oh. You really do care, then?
R: Yes, I do.
B: Oh. That feels good. (There is a long silence.) That’s what’s been gnawing at me. Sometimes we get too far apart and then I wonder if you care about me.
R: I do care about you. And, you know, I agree with you. We do get too far apart sometimes.
B: I feel a lot bet
ter. This was beginning to turn into one of those
“old-time fights” that we used to have. It was scaring me.
R: I like the way you can identify those subtle feelings. Scared.
Yeah. I was scared, too.
B: Thank you. I need some time with you. Without the kids.
Without the phone ringing off the hook.
R: I need some time with you, too.
B: When can we get some time like that?
R: I have to get this report done by Monday. But if I got off my rear-end, I could easily get it done by tomorrow night. I’ve been putting it off because I hate doing it. We could have the whole weekend to ourselves.
B: Where shall we go?
R: Anywhere is fine with me. You pick the spot.
B: I’ll do that.
R: I love you.
B: I love you, too.
This interchange began harmlessly, escalated into a near-disaster, and then worked out. There is reciprocity here. Therefore, it works.
But what is reciprocity? Why did it work? It worked because these two people have equal power, need, influence, dependency, independence, interdependence, separateness, strength, courage, dignity, self-respect and . . . well . . . their cups are relatively full. “The paradox” is not a paradox for this particular couple because they have transcended the paradox. They have gone beyond it. This particular paradox can’t hurt them anymore. Not for now, anyway. They’ve done some work.
Another couple, in a different place in their relationship and growth, have resolved the paradox in another way:
D: I’ve been reading this book about Adult Children and intimacy, and it says we either get too enmeshed or too detached. What do you think we do?
L: I don’t know, I’m pretty satisfied with our relationship.
D: You know, I guess it’s been bothering me lately that we hardly talk to each other anymore. It feels like we’ve drifted apart awfully far.
L: Oh?
D: Yes, I feel sort of sad about it.
L: I see.
D: And I guess if you feel like everything’s okay, then we have a problem on our hands.
L: There you go again!
D: What do you mean?
L: You’re always harping about how much time we spend together and
I think we spend enough time together. Sometimes it’s too much.
D: I hear ya.
L: Good. Then let’s just drop it, okay?
D: Okay. But before we drop it, I need to decide what I want to do about it. (There is a painfully long silence as “D” checks in with the feelings that are slowly rising to the surface.) I don’t want to become a nag but I have certain needs that I don’t want to ignore either. I spent too many years ignoring them in the past. From the sound of it, you feel like I’m on the verge of becoming a nag, so I guess that’s why I’m feeling sad.
L: Why?
D: Because the only alternative for me is to change the nature of our relationship. I think we need to separate for a while. That’s why I’m sad.
L: Separate? Oh, c’mon now. Letting your emotions run away with you again?
D: No. This time I’m letting my emotions speak to me instead of tyrannize me. I want to separate for a while, and I’m sad about this decision I must make.
L: That’s ridiculous. You can’t be serious.
D: It’s not ridiculous, and I am serious and I am sad.
L: You really mean this, don’t you?
D: Yes I do. I care about you a lot, but I have to be in a relationship that feels right for me. And this doesn’t feel right at the moment. It’s not a matter of right or wrong, good or bad. There’s no black-hat- white-hat here. We simply have very different needs.
What “D” has discovered in the process of recovery is that self-abandonment is too high a price to pay for a relationship. The way in which “D” handled this problem indicates that “D” has a basic sense of trust (that things will work out, even though they are painful now); that “D” has a basic sense of autonomy (that standing alone is okay when one must do it); that “D” has a basic sense of initiative (to solve problems and make decisions, including the tough decisions); and that “D” is clearly on the way to having a clear identity (a sense of self instead of self-abandonment). In expressing the painful vulnerable feeling of sadness, “D” also demonstrates at the same time that most admirable of traits, simple dignity.
There are many excellent books on the market dealing with intimacy. We happen to like and recommend the following: Becoming Partners: Marriage and Its Alternatives (Rogers, 1973), Struggle For Intimacy (Woititz, 1985), Women Who Love Too Much (Norwood, 1985), Men Who Hate Women And the Women Who Love Them (Forward and Torres, 1986) and Pairing (Bach and Deutsch, 1970). Rogers’ and Bach’s books are especially good in presenting inside views of the intimate struggles that we all have, and much of their presentation is by example and vignette, which is a powerful way to get the message across.
Beyond Intimacy
Being human and in recovery has its benefits. We don’t have to be perfect anymore, for one thing. We can have a basic sense of trust and still be comfortable when our mistrust emerges without warning.
Not being perfect is a true joy. We get to be paranoid now and then without beating ourselves up for it, which is a tremendous relief. Think about how much energy it takes to beat yourself up! It makes a heck of a lot more sense to just say “Hey, I’m really upset about this: I wonder what that’s about?” Period. End of discussion with self. No guilt, blame, shame or self-destruction. Trust that the answer will come when we least expect it—you know, when we’re changing a diaper or balancing the checkbook.
As comedian Steven Wright so wisely said, “You can’t have everything. Where would you put it?” It is such an elegant sentiment, and it is wonderfully liberating! Nobody can have it all. If that is truth, then I am now free, because there are five billion people on this planet and not one of them is perfect! So I can trust that I am okay even when I don’t trust all the time!
It is the same with autonomy, initiative, industry, identity and intimacy. The building blocks must be fairly solid, but they will never be perfect. If we learn to make friends with the Little Child inside of us; if we learn to listen to our feelings which are felt inside of our bodies; if we are scared and admit that we are scared; if we are angry and admit that we are angry; and if we are open to learning from those who have more wisdom than we do, then we will find what we are searching for on this earth.
And if our building blocks are fairly solid up to and including the intimacy stage, then Erikson feels that our next challenge is . . .
Generativity versus Self-Absorption
Somewhere between our mid-twenties and our mid-thirties or later, depending upon when we get into recovery, we have a crisis that revolves around self versus others. Part of us wants to focus so deeply on the self that we exclude all else. The other part of us wants to start giving back to humanity what was given to us thus far. The dilemma here is that if we haven’t got much to begin with (if we are Adult Children who haven’t begun a solid recovery program yet; if we were abused as children but haven’t admitted it and dealt with it yet; if we are in a “pseudo-recovery” in which we say the right things but don’t live them), then we won’t have much to give back.
Our generativity will direct us to bear children, but we will unconsciously abuse them the way that we were abused. Our generativity will direct us to create the ultimate work of art, but we will become so absorbed in the process that we will shoot ourselves in the foot while we’re trying.
We see many people doing 12th-step work (helping other people to begin recovery programs) as a method of avoiding their own personal issues. Yes, it’s true. Helping others can be an excuse for avoiding one’s own work and pain. We have done it ourselves, so we know.
Erikson’s simple wisdom is that we are not truly ready to give something back to humanity until we have got what we needed as children. For those of us wh
o are psychotherapists, this is evidenced in the statement that “we can only help those who are worse off than we are.” All of us run amuck when we focus on generativity before we’ve done our identity, intimacy and earlier work.
Perhaps the best advice here is to say: ’Tis Better to Give Back from a Full Cup Than From an Empty One.
Integrity versus Despair
Each stage in our lives brings with it a period of reflection about the past.
We do this when we first leave home, then again during our 30s crisis, at the midlife crisis, and so forth. These are all preparation for the life review that takes place in old age, when we go back over our entire life and try to make sense out of it. If we can review our life and be left with a sense of wholeness, completion and serenity, then we can face our own death secure in the knowledge that we have lived a full, rich, rewarding life.
Part of this life review process includes looking at past mistakes and regrets, dealing with the loss and sadness that these bring, and finishing up any business with loved ones that has not yet been finished. We may need to apologize to someone. Or we may need to tell someone that their behavior made us angry and we’ve been carrying around that anger all these years. Or we may simply need to tell someone that we love them and that we appreciate their love.
For those of us who have risked passing through all of the preceding stages of life, old age and death do not have to be awful and frightening. To the contrary, it can be a period of wisdom and wholeness. As Plato wrote in The Republic, approximately 370 B.C.: “Old age has a great sense of calm and freedom. When the passions have relaxed their hold, you have escaped, not from one master, but from many.”
For those of us who have not taken the risks to have our feelings and live our lives fully, old age can be a terrible curse.
We often recall reading the case study in a psychiatric text about a woman who spent her entire life caring for her hypochondriacal, manipulative mother. The other two children in the family grew up and left home, leaving the youngest in the clutches of Mom. Upon Mom’s death at the age of 95, this youngest daughter of hers, now 70 years old, had a complete and total psychotic breakdown, tearing out her hair, slashing her wrists and smashing her head into the wall over and over in a hopeless rage at the fact that she had devoted her entire life to someone who was supposed to have let her go free in late adolescence.