Deliberate Choice

I had a good text conversation this morning with an old friend. I haven’t talked to her in years like that. I wish I could say it was light banter, but we both had news to give the other. I started by telling her about my parents disowning me in early January. She was quick to understand, because her father disowned her on Christmas Eve last year. She is a transwoman with a lot of trauma from family and others in her past.

We were able to discuss the trauma of the experiences. I told her about my nightmares, and she told me that it reawakened her night terrors.

She said something about her family that struck me as a deep truth. I asked her permission to share it, and here it is:

I used to believe they were doing the best they could with the information they had but I no longer believe that. It is chosen ignorance, bigotry and hatred on their behalf.

I fully understand these two sentences. My parents deliberately chose to disown me. My father deliberately chose to threaten me as a vulnerable teenager. It is willful hatred on his part.

I still experience nightmares, but I’m grateful they are fewer now than in January and February.

I still experience waves of grief. I am glad to say they come further apart now.

My friend is coping as best she can. She also has a good support system. I am so grateful for the excellent people I have around me.

Today is one more day to choose joy. I’m going to play games online with some friends.

My Flaw

Despite my best efforts, I have a flaw that lies inside me liking a gaping, open wound. My parents don’t love me, and it’s likely they have never really loved me. The undeniable evidence is that they disowned me because I’m gay.

I have felt this lack of love my entire life. I have sought out ways to fill that lack. I filled it with being busy when I was still in high school and college by being in lots of clubs. I filled it with being busy as a working adult by choosing jobs where I had to clean up messes other people made. I had one job with a large Japanese corporation where I basically went around the world closing ill-conceived subsidiaries. That really wasn’t good for my sense of self-worth.

I fill the lack of love from my parents through an anxious attachment style. To explain it simply, I attach to possible partners quickly and overwhelm them with my good intentions. I’m doing it now even after having talked about it in therapy.

The only good thing is that I’m doing it in the privacy of my home without telling the other man that I’m wanting to overwhelm him.

I had a coffee date with a man recently that went very well. We talked about what to do for a second date, and that’s always a good sign. I went home and began to obsess about being with this new man. To my credit, I must say that I effectively resisted texting him a lot and bombarding him with my well wishes. However, in my own little home, I invented scenarios of us together in the future.

I wasn’t able to get together with this new man this past weekend, and by the end of the day Sunday, I was morose. I was sure that he’d forgotten all about me and was moving on to other possible dates.

This depression came after one date! Sigh.

I stayed in that sadness all evening, but then I got an idea. I decided to call an elder in AA I’ve met at several meetings I have been to recently. I picked up the phone and called her. I didn’t tell her I was sad. We talked about the weekend and meetings and a mutual friend. It was a completely delightful call, and by the end, I felt a million times better. I hung up the phone feeling so much better. I was so surprised. All I needed was a little human connection.

I reached out, and it worked. I will do it again.

And then at bedtime, I looked at my phone, and there waiting for me was a text from the man I was languishing over. He’d taken a long nap. There was a perfectly reasonable explanation. I went to sleep feeling fine and had a good night’s sleep.

Being Selfish

One of the oddest things about life is that when we are very small, we have to be taught to share. It is stressed over and over again that we have to share with our playmates. We aren’t allowed to hoard all the toys or take all the food from the lunch counter.

Many of us spend a great many adult years unlearning this lesson. We have to learn a healthy way of being selfish.

I have spoken to many people in various forms of distress. One of my favorite suggestions is to do one nice thing for ourselves every day. These can be very simple. We can give ourselves a full minute of deep breathing. Taking a walk in the sunshine is another good way to be nice to ourselves. If it’s what we want, we could indulge in our favorite food. We get to decide how to be nice to ourselves.

Many of us are taught to always place others before ourselves. This is appropriate in many situations, but it’s not healthy at all times. There are many times we have to place our own needs above our neighbor’s.

It is popular to say that we have to love ourselves before we can love others. I used to disagree with that. I thought I needed to deny myself my own love. I thought I could love others while ignoring my own needs. I now see that I cannot give what I do not have.

Ultimately, doing one nice thing for ourselves each day is meant to lead us to loving ourselves continuously.

When I come from a place of self-love, I can reach out with more love than I ever imagined. I am capable of more compassion than I knew previously. Empathy is more genuine.

It’s possible that being selfish may be the best way to help each other.