Honoring others' truth

I recently listened to this fmh podcast about perfectionism and the perfect mormon family (the fmh podcast is great, if you haven't already heard it).

It should come as no surprise to my friends and regular readers, but I was not raised to be comfortable with different narratives and different needs.  I was not raised to be comfortable with disagreement.  In fact, most things were black and white (hence I identify with Christine's experience).  I believe many mormon families (particularly those with mental illness or tendencies towards scrupulosity) may have a similar experience or experiences.

I find it challenging to not give advice, to not jump in with my take, and to honor other people's feelings while still honoring my own.

That's what I want, in the end, to show love to the people in my life.

I don't have any answers on this one.  This particular part of relationships is not easy.  The only thing I've found that has been helpful is to acknowledge that there are multiple truth(s), even in the same family - even in the same relationship.  Each person is able (or not) to acknowledge certain events, and views them in different ways.  And each person processes things in their own way.  I find I'm incredibly opinionated, and it's hard to not always share my opinion.  But my opinion is often not helpful.

I'm doing the best I can, and I acknowledge the others in my life are doing the best they can.  And, as I was discussing with my friend Kathryn the other night, time tends to bring clarity.  I wish I had known that at 20.

Anger into action

Recently I've found myself getting overwhelmed with anger about a few issues.

For some of the issues, I have every right to be angry. Some involve things that happened in the past, long ago. The things that happened in the past I can't do anything about.

So I've been exploring what it is that I am really angry about. Is my anger justified - what am I scared of (is there any fear there).

I realize that dwelling on my anger (are women supposed to be angry??) doesn't help anyone. Certainly it doesn't help me live and enjoy my life, it doesn't help my marriage or my relationship with my kids. All it does is leave a bad taste in my mouth.

(As an aside, I didn't realize just how angry I was for a long time. Now my struggle is focusing my anger into acknowledgment and then productive anger. And accepting the past as something I can't change).

A friend once told me that being angry about other people's actions or behaviors is like taking the poison yourself and expecting the other person to get sick. I agree.

In one of the cases, with my anger towards a work situation, I figured out there is something I can do. There are actions I can take that I have taken (calmly). I've figured out what my triggers are in the situation (perceiving that I'm being taken advantage of), and the risks of me speaking out (and the risks of not speaking out).

The relief and empowerment that I've felt by speaking up - despite awkwardness - have been palpable. Even if changes don't happen, I have choices - and that is priceless.

I find that many seemingly immovable situations or things in my life change over time. They are like glaciers. It seems like some of these "truths" are unchanging but there is change going on - just slowly. And I realize that I change over time, my perceptions of what's going on change as well.

How this relates to mormonism? There may be things that can be changed - requests that a person can make here in the present in some  family situations. 

Being open to thinking about those changes - being open to the possibility of action can be freeing (to my mind). I can't say what those requests might be - but figuring out if there are little parts of the glacier that I can chip at. There are boundaries I can set. There are people I don't have to talk to or be around. There are people I can be around that I don't discuss certain issues with (like faith or mormonism).

Figuring out the things that I'm angry about that I literally cannot do anything to change has been very helpful (a great example for me has been the mormon.org billboard that I drive past when taking my kids to school). 

It should come as no surprise to anyone here, I disagree with that use of funds by the LDS church.  With all the desperate need in this world, I disagree with advertising the diversity of the LDS church (I disagree that the LDS church is really a diverse organization).  So I can focus on that disagreement every time I pass the billboard, or I can accept that I can't change all of those things and let it go.

There are quite a few things that I am angry about that I can't do anything to change. I've thought about it, extensively, and there's nothing I can do. So when I'm aware of that, I choose to let my immediate anger go - realizing - I can't do anything about this, and so I choose not to dwell on my anger about it.

Out of touch with Feelings

Some years ago, various well-meaning friends and counselors/professionals mentioned to me that it sounded like I "was out of touch with my feelings".

At first this statement really p*ssed me off. I had no idea what they meant, AND even worse, I had no idea what I could do about it. It sounded like a bunch of woo, or even worse, horse pucky. Being someone who excelled at lots of things over the years, it was also hard to hear that maybe there were some things I wasn't so great at.

Perhaps this is a nice way (euphemism) to say "heavy denial", and if so, it was/is true.

I was in denial about lots of things for many years - even long after I had been an active mormon. Through study, time and cognitive behavioral therapy, I think I have a better handle on what this means, on what it means to be out of touch with one's "feelings".

Basically, when growing up, some people are raised in families where authentic feelings are *not okay*. If someone is angry, scared or sad, these are not acceptable feelings. It's not good to be negative, and particularly be negative outside the family. There are rarely appropriate outlets for these feelings, and if there are, they are rarely taught/learned. Even at a time where someone was very sick or at a funeral, sometimes these feelings are not accepted. Think ("you're going to take drum lessons and you're going to like it - no matter what you want").  For the record, I am not saying that my own family never allowed outlets for feelings, just that it was something that I believe we struggled with.

Another friend talked about "choice" and "accountability" within families. This goes hand in hand with acknowledging and honoring feelings. Having choice means that children/family members are free to decide if they want to do something. They are free to say no. They are free to be sick (if they are sick).

Accountability means that if a person says no, or show up or does something, that there are consequences (positive or negative).

So for me, getting in touch with what I'm feeling is to think about specific feelings (anger, sadness, fear). I no longer focus on what other people around me are feeling. Other people and their opinions are important, but it goes back to that internal boundary I have talked about before (is it true? is it not true? and letting the not true stuff go).  I may have another post on the internal boundary thing.

Again, figuring out what others were feeling was a skill I learned very well from a young age (either from being raised mormon or being raised mormon in my family). It was better/easier/a coping mechanism to keep track of how everyone *else* was feeling, than my own wants, needs, likes or dislikes. What I liked wasn't so important, how I felt wasn't important because it wasn't useful. It didn't get me anything.

What was important was the family, the church, my peers, people joining the mormon church, etc.

I'm not suggesting that people should be completely self-focused or self-indulgent (that's another can of worms). But when I was able to start to separate what *I* wanted, my expectations of myself vs.other people and their expectations of me, it became easier to navigate relationships. Also, separate out what I could control, and what I could not control (other people's feelings or responses).

Talking about those authentic feelings can get scary for some families/some family systems. Sometimes people will claim someone is being "selfish" for setting boundaries, for being accountable for the things they offer to do and don't. A big part of being accountable is saying yes, but also being accountable to say no and not feeling guilty about it.

I would much rather any friends of mine said "no" to a party or gathering than show up and complain or be in a bad mood the whole time. I'd rather they took care of themselves. Honestly, gatherings where everyone genuinely wants to be there are so much better. You can tell when someone feels obligated or doesn't want to be somewhere.

I think this is a different message than what's given in some organizations (the LDS church, but other organizations as well). And it's unfortunate - because it means that people "fake" what they are feeling, fake friendships or relationships.

It's certainly an easier business model to force people to do things no matter what and not accept no for an answer. Or to use guilt, passive-aggression, intermittent rewards, etc. to get what you want. But the people who actually want to do something and be somewhere...they're the most motivated, and their enjoyment and gratitude shows.

PS. I don't know how mourning and grief play into this, but I think part of the feelings thing is accepting that some things/people/relationships are not the way you want them to be. Then after that acceptance, figuring out what you can do about it.

Each person comes up with their own answers to these questions, and their own decisions (and accepts the various consequences).

And PPS. This is even more complicated for men, who are taught from a very young age that most feelings are not okay. A good reference for that (I still need to read it myself) is "I Don't Want to Talk About it: The Secret Legacy of Male Depression" by Terence Real.  I'll read it and review it here at some point.

I don't think that's an appropriate question.

In this post, I talked about taking care of myself (which I didn't learn growing up).

I have to say, this week I set some minor boundaries. But I find, after all this time, after all the things I've worked on and through - I confess I still sometimes feel guilty for setting those boundaries. And they are not invasive boundaries or terribly momentous boundaries.

In one case, it was a simple "I don't want to talk about this with you." and "I don't think I can talk about this particular issue with you and be kind and loving".

And, despite all of that, I found that to be uncomfortable for me.

I read a handful of articles, which mentioned that feeling guilty when we set boundaries means we're doing it right.

At least I can now recognize it (boundary setting) in others. I was at a party recently where a friend was asked her opinion on something her partner/significant was doing. It was a long conversation that I don't want to give the play by play here. My friend replied "I don't think that's an appropriate question". Not in an unkind or shaming way - but in an "I'm not going to answer that" type of way. I remember thinking "Right on!".

I'm sure my friend probably does have an opinion, and does have an interest in what her partner does. But she's saying that it's private, and between the two of them (not with some group of friends at a party).

Because I rarely saw that modeled growing up - I rarely saw someone (anyone) refuse to answer a question they thought was inappropriate (well, aside from responses during congressional hearings...'on advice from my counsel'...)

Such a simple gesture, sometimes so difficult for some of us (me). But important none the less.

Such a simple concept. I get to say no. I need to say no if by doing something, I will feel anger, bitterness and resentment. I get to say that a question is not appropriate or if I'm not comfortable talking about something in a group - particularly if I will feel uncomfortable or resentful by answering.

Not so easy in practice.