LETTING GO OF OUR ADULT CHILDREN
Chapter 2: When Children March to Different Drummers
Page 3
BY ARLENE HARDER, MA, MFT
Chapter 2 of Letting Go of Our Adult Children explores the process of coming to the realization that a child has disappointed his parents.
There have always been parents who have found it difficult to let go of adult children who have ignored the expectations their parents had for them. There have always been parents of "wayward" children who have tried to reshape their adult children into the form the parents originally wanted.
Today, however, the number of parents distressed over conflicts with their adult offspring seems to have increased. What is there about modem life that causes so many of us to question our parenting and the choices of our children? Why does it seem so difficult to let go?
There aren't any easy answers to those questions because no two situations are exactly alike. However, I can make some general observations.
For those of us who had our children back in "the good old days," the world of those far-off times seemed to move at a pace we could more easily handle. Mother could often afford to stay home and care for children full time. Parents were not as mobile; they often remained in the same community for several generations and so were able to draw upon the support of an extended family. Before the two-career household, parents had time to participate in children's extracurricular activities, school events, and community affairs. And although it has never been a simple task for families to provide economic and emotional security for their children, success seemed almost assured for anyone with determination. In such a climate — before Vietnam and Woodstock — parents expected their offspring to follow their values without questioning, and many adult children did.
Those born after Vietnam clearly experienced a different culture from that of their parents. Their greater freedom, however, has not prevented them from having trouble letting go of their adult children — the "twentysomethings" who also march to a drum beat their parents did not play.
No matter when our children were born, we release them into a world different from the one in which we were raised. And the young adult being launched today faces a world in which there are more teen pregnancies and increased acceptance of single parenthood; neighbors who don't know one another; ethnic and racial isolation; unmarried couples openly living together, whether of the same, or opposite sex; AIDS; guns in the classroom; random shots on the freeway; crack cocaine; gangs; downscaling of the economy; and on and on and on.
When we fail to let our children go freely into the world because they do not seem capable of being responsible adults, we may hope to put off the day they will have to be responsible on their own. We may assume — incorrectly, of course — that we can protect our children from the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, especially during times that are difficult for the most responsible adult. In our attempt to protect, we prevent them from learning what they must learn if they are ever to be strong and independent individuals.
Some Parents Hide Their Disappointment
It is obvious that some parents do let go of their adult children even when the parents disagree with their children's values and choices. Despite their disappointment, they send their children into the world without needing to hover in the background. They can separate their values and the "success" of their own lives from the apparent "failure" and choices of their children.
But few of us who are disappointed in how our child has turned out (or who are afraid our child is heading in a direction likely to create problems later on) are truly able to let go. On the outside we may look like those parents who have let go. However, on the inside we hold on to our disappointment and to the hope that our child will make the choices we want him to make.
It is important to remember that hiding our disappointment does not keep it from affecting us or our relationship with our children.
A television drama, "Our Sons," is an excellent illustration of the difficulties parents create for themselves and their children when they try to ignore the fact that their children have failed to fulfill their dreams, whether or not those dreams are realistic.
The story concerns Donald, a gay man who is dying of AIDS, and James, his lover. Donald's mother, Luanne, does not accept her son's gay lifestyle and has neither seen nor heard from him in fourteen years. Nevertheless, she finally decides to make peace with him.
James' mother, Audrey, on the other hand, prides herself on acceptance of her son's sexual preference. Soon, however, Luanne's simple, direct honesty forces Audrey to realize that she has not been honest with herself or with James.
Near the end of the drama, Audrey and James finally have a heart-to-heart talk in which she acknowledges that she was devastated when she first learned James was gay — admitting that it was a long time before she stopped hoping he'd see the true light, marry the girl of her dreams, and give her babies that would call her grandma and on whom she could lavish things. Angry that there was nothing she could do about her lost dreams, but feeling guilty for having them, she tried to pretend she was a woman of the world who could take it all in stride.
As Audrey tells her son the truth, she is embarrassed to discover that he had always known she was not the happy parent she claimed to be. After all, he says, "How could I not have heard the word you never spoke?" "What word?" she asks. "Disappointment," he responds. When she asks him why he didn't say anything, he points out that sometimes it's not wise to tell people what they don't want to know.
Audrey was like many parents who don't want to accept the fact that they are disappointed. They think they "shouldn't" feel disappointed. Perhaps they've listened to a colleague of mine who doesn't even like the phrase "disappointed parent." It is difficult for her to imagine that she will be disappointed in her children when they are launched into adulthood; until now her children have made choices with which she agrees. But as my sister-in-law, whose sons are clean-cut, high achievers, points out, "It's easy to let go when your children are doing what you'd like them to do."
That's exactly the point. There is a big difference between letting go when our children demonstrate an ability to navigate the intricacies of adulthood and when they can't or won't. It is also difficult not to get caught up in our expectations if they make choices that are far from the direction in which we thought we were steering them, no matter how successful their lives may appear to others.
Caught by Unmet Expectations
What was the direction in which you thought you were steering your child? What drum did you play?
Although you may not have thought of it at the time, you began playing your parental drum from the moment you and your spouse or partner decided to have a baby, the day you chose to adopt a child, the day you married someone who already had a child, or the moment you chose to keep a child even though you hadn't intended to get pregnant. The reason you did any of those things created the basic rhythm you played on your drum.
Did you want to expand your love of your mate by having a child who would be an expression of both of you? Or did you have a child to prevent a marriage from falling apart? Were all your friends having children and you didn't want to be left out? Did you have a child to prove to your mother that you could do a better job than she did? And was your family carefully planned, each child arriving when you could give it your greatest attention and love? Was the sex of the child terribly important?
Long before their baby is born, some parents discuss the values they want their child to have: integrity, a particular religious faith, education, a sense of responsibility. Other parents just assume that they will pass on their values when the time comes. They figure things will work out for them as well, if not better, than they did for their own parents.
We dispense our parental wisdom, hopes, and values, whether deliberately arrived at or not, while we spread jelly on our children's bread and pour milk into their cups. Unconsciously we impart our expectations as we interact with them in what may seem small and insignificant ways. Many years later we are reminded of those expectations, spoken and unspoken, when our children, through a combination of circumstance and choice, refuse to follow the blueprint we laid out for them.
You probably know highly educated parents who push their children to achieve academically. Since they have been successful by using their minds, they assume that formal education is an essential step in the development of responsible adults. But what if their son refuses to attend college? What if, instead, he wants to work his way around the world, doing odd jobs and taking pictures of his travels, which he hopes one day to sell? While the parents may be proud of their son's independence, they will most likely feel disappointed. Their educational values have been rejected and they may find it surprisingly hard to let go of their expectations.
You probably also know other parents who are not highly educated but who have been successful through hard work. Suppose such parents own a hardware store and have always assumed their son would carry on the family business. Suppose their son decides to become a cancer researcher. While they may be proud of their child's intelligence and ambition, they, too, will experience disappointment in abandoned plans for the business. They must now deal with an unexpected shift in their lives. When parents get hooked by what they assume will happen when their children grow up, they will be disappointed. And because they are disappointed, they will have a hard time letting go.
Gaps that Grow into Major Rifts
As long as there are generations there will be generation gaps, such as the one between parents who love classical music and offspring who enjoy (some claim to understand) hard rock. The potential for differences of opinion and values is almost limitless. Yet we usually learn to live with many of them.
For example, as I write this chapter all of our children are living with a significant other. In other words, they are doing what would have been called "shacking up" when I was young. As the daughter and granddaughter of ministers, I was taught that such behavior was scandalous. But times have changed, and I cannot force my children to follow the pattern of marry-first-and-live-together-later that I was raised to believe is best. Perhaps my way of doing things is better. Nevertheless, in this arena, this particular generation gap, I find I can accept the decisions of my children without many qualms.
However, as the first chapter illustrates, there are some generation gaps that can grow into significant rifts within our homes and hearts. Instead of minor differences that cause a few threads to unravel around the edges of the family's fabric, there is a tear straight down the middle. A few frayed edges are to be expected. A major rip is not.
To describe the atmosphere in my family for many years, and that experienced in the homes of some of my clients, I use the phrase "the rifts that bind." Since rifts would seem to pull people apart rather than bind them together, these words may seem incongruent. Let me explain.
"The ties that bind" refers to relationships in which people share history and/or similar values. In most families these ties are like an invisible rope of infinite length that connects parent and child. Whether living under the same roof or miles apart, parents and child hold the rope gently in their hands, knowing it reinforces their love and support for one another.
In families with strained relations, however, the rope represents broken dreams, blame, and failure. Standing on either side of the differences that divide them, parent and child hold tightly to their ends of the rope. They are bound not by shared values but by the realization that their values an in conflict, that the choices of the children are not supported by the parents and that the parents' expectations for the child are not going to be met. Each pulls on the rope in an attempt to manipulate the other. And the more tenaciously the other person defends his or her expectations of how things "should" be, the deeper the rift becomes. Technically speaking, the rift itself does not bind, but when we focus on the rift and on what separates us, we are bound and caught by our expectations that the other person should have different values than he or she has.
If you and your child have been playing tug-of-war across a growing rip in your family's fabric, my hope is that this book can help you learn how to stop tugging on that rope. In chapter 7 I describe how I dropped my end of the rope, and the peace that accompanied that action. I didn't give up my values and beliefs. I didn't give up the hope that Matthew might someday decide to choose a more healthy lifestyle. I simply recognized that he and I may never resolve our differences and that pulling on the rope only caused my heart to break over the behavior of someone else — behavior I could not control.
You, too, can let go of the rope that binds you in misery and reminds you of your child's unfulfilled expectations. First, however, you may need to understand some of the dynamics that created the tug- of-war in the first place.
While almost any choice of an adult child that is inconsistent with our expectations can leave us disappointed and make it hard for us to let our child live freely as she chooses, three categories of situations most commonly lead to rifts that bind.
1. Our child is unable to function successfully in relationships and/or work settings because of emotional and/or physical problems. The child's current functioning may be less than the potential demonstrated when our child was younger or may be a continuation of problems we have attempted to correct.
If our child was handicapped from birth, or injured through illness or accident, the pain we feel is usually different from that experienced if our child previously demonstrated an ability to achieve and now fails to live up to that potential.
One of the parents I interviewed for this book expressed how it feels to be disappointed when great potential lies unfulfilled. Her brilliant son was addicted to cocaine. She said her therapist accurately expressed her pain when he said, "If you thought your son was so promising that he must surely have been sprinkled with fairy dust, and you have given him every opportunity to achieve success, his unwillingness to live up to that promise causes a deeper disappointment than if he hadn't seemed so special in the first place."
On the other hand, perhaps your daughter has had problems throughout her life. Despite your best efforts to help her with therapy, tutors, and extra attention, she doesn't seem able or willing to function to the degree you believe possible. It is not surprising that you would feel disappointed and very frustrated. You may say to yourself, "I've done my best; why can't she?"
A few examples of potential rifts in this category are drug and alcohol abuse, mental illness, suicide attempts, and handicaps caused by accidents or illness.
Incidentally, letting go in all of these cases is not easy. However, it is even more difficult when an adult child is not only unable to live responsibly herself but is also unable to be responsible for her children. Increasingly, parents who planned to retire are discovering they must re-enter the world of active parenting when grandchildren are dumped on their doorsteps.
2. Our child makes decisions concerning career, lifestyle, marriage, or parenting that are contrary to our values.
Because of television and the easy dissemination of information, our children have been exposed to a wider variety of options than most of us had when we were young. To add to this, the climate of our society encourages young people to make their own choices rather than have their parents choose for them. Consequently, there are almost unlimited ways in which our children might decide to follow a path that diverges from values we have comfortably held as "correct" for many years. Because we have not personally been exposed to some of these ideas and lifestyles, it can be very difficult for us to understand how our children could possibly make the choices they do.
Some examples of the ways our children's choices can cause us disappointment and distress are a change of religion; marriage outside our race, religion, or social group; divorce; having children without being married; abortion; political views extremely different from ours; not finishing college, or entering a career we believe unsuited to our child's talents; marriage to someone we feel will be harmful to the child in some way; being unable or unwilling to handle financial affairs responsibly; deciding to engage in illegal activities.
Many gays and lesbians, and sometimes their parents, do not consider homosexuality to be a conscious, deliberate choice, as are the other situations just listed. In fact, there are several studies indicating sexual preference has a strong biological component. Nevertheless, I include homosexuality in this category because gay and lesbian lifestyles are frequently experienced by parents as a rejection of parental and societal values. Learning that our child prefers members of his or her own sex requires a painful adjustment that most parents did not expect. It is not surprising that such parents keep pulling and tugging on the rope, trying to get their child to love those of the opposite sex so they can avoid dealing with the rift between their expectations and what their child feels.
3. Our child deliberately chooses to be emotionally and/or physically distant from us.
Almost all parents expect their children to stay in touch throughout life. If the child lives close to the parents, it is usually assumed that the child, and grandchildren, will visit often. On the other hand, if the child moves away from the home town, it is assumed the child will write, phone, or visit as often as possible. We may assume that our children will be there to take care of us in our old age — and in a manner we anticipate will give us pleasure.
When that doesn't happen, parents can feel very greatly pained.
I'm not talking here about the adult child who only calls once a week but whose parent thinks truly loving children would call every day. Nor am I referring to those children who are sometimes too busy to remember to send their mother a card on Mother's Day.
The child in this category has decided, for whatever reason, to break off contact with one or both parents. Perhaps he maintains some contact (his parents know where he lives, for instance, and he doesn't refuse their phone calls) but the visits are extremely rare and brief. The child may give no reason for his decision or may give a reason the parents don't understand. Sometimes the child will side with an ex-spouse, implying that full contact would be disloyal to the other parent.
The parent of these children is left standing on one side of a rift, holding her end of the rope that was supposed to connect her with her son. She feels unable to resolve her pain if her son is not willing or able to negotiate a different relationship.
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© Copyright 1994, Arlene Harder, MA, MFT, Reprinted with permission
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