LETTING GO OF OUR ADULT CHILDREN
Chapter 2: When Children March to Different Drummers
Page 4
BY ARLENE HARDER, MA, MFT
Continuation of Chapter 2 of Letting Go of Our Adult Children explores the process of coming to the realization that a child has disappointed his parents.
Different Degrees of Pain
If the situation with your child fits one of the categories above, there are several factors that will determine whether you are only somewhat disappointed (making it potentially easier to stop tugging on the rope) or whether you find yourself in great distress, in which case letting go will be much more difficult. The first factor is your attitude concerning the seriousness of your child's "problem" and how intensely you believe your views are right and your child's are wrong; the second is the strength of the bond between you and your child; and the third is the coping skills and personality style you bring to conflicts and problems.
These variables can be expressed in a formula of A + B + C = D or:
Attitudes + Bonds + Coping skills =
Degree of Disappointment and Pain
Since you already know a little about me, let me tell you the story of Maria, a client of mine, before demonstrating how these factors interact in her situation and in mine.
Maria held a responsible middle-management job in a large company and considered herself a "liberated" woman who had successfully challenged the submissive role of many wives within the Mexican-American community in which she lived. Yet when her daughter Angela, an honors student, announced she was going to marry Kenji, a man who was raised in Japan and whose leg had been amputated after a car accident, Maria was amazed to discover her disappointment. Although she said nothing to Angela, her daughter read into her silence an attitude of prejudice and said that, if her mother couldn't accept Kenji just as her mother had accepted the husband of Angela's sister, she shouldn't attend the wedding.
While Maria felt pride in her daughter's willingness to marry someone with a physical handicap, her negative response to her future son-in-law's racial background was perplexing to her. "After all," she said, "I come from an ethnic minority. I headed a committee to bring more minorities into the PTA. Why do I suddenly feel like a racist?" It didn't take much probing to uncover the first, and primary, layer of her distress.
If Angela married Kenji, her grandchildren would look "different." They might not be accepted by all other relatives, a large and exuberant group who used almost any occasion as an excuse to get together. Could Maria, or Angela, handle that rejection? Yet that was only one situation out of many potential problems Maria doubted her daughter had considered.
As Maria used the therapy setting to look more closely at her reactions, she decided to write down every objection and fear she could uncover. Soon she had more than a dozen. Her concerns ranged from the personal (would Kenji like Maria's ethnic cooking?) to the obvious (would differences between her son-in-law's culture and her daughter's cause problems for them after the honeymoon flow faded?). One concern seemed more serious to Maria: She was afraid her son-in-law might not want to come to her house for the holidays, as all her other children did. When she realized that she "strongly resented having to adjust to that potential reality," we discovered the underlying source of her pain — adjustment.
At work Maria was involved in another management change, the third in a year. Her home had seemed a safe haven, a place where change was not imposed upon her by someone else. Now she wondered whether she had the energy to handle another situation that was out of her hands. She knew that, deep down, she would love her grandchildren no matter what they looked like and that her daughter had the strength to make a mixed-race marriage work. Maria decided that what she needed was to find a way to handle the stress from her job so that it didn't spill over into her family life.
After role-playing with me on how she could approach Angela and Kenji, she took them to dinner. She was very relieved by what they had to say. For one thing, they assured her they had already discussed potential problems and had decided they would handle difficulties as they arose. Kenji teased Maria, saying she could call him "Ken" if that made him seem less Oriental. Maria decided "Kenji" was just fine with her and the marriage went off without a hitch.
Our Attitudes and Beliefs
An attempted suicide by an adult child (or an attempt that is, unfortunately, successful) is experienced by all parents as extremely painful. Yet situations that are far less life-threatening can be viewed by some parents as equally tragic.
There are two reasons why some parents can view the rift with their child as undesirable, but not overwhelming, and others consider a similar rift to be unbearable. The first reason has to do with how damaging we consider our child's "problem" is now, or will be in the future, either physically, financially, emotionally, or socially. The second reason has to do with our willingness to accept our child's functioning at a lower level than we know our child is capable of achieving.
For example, a child who is manic-depressive can create a great deal of trauma and distress in a family. However, her parents, while clearly disappointed that they have to adjust to changes in moods, are unlikely to consider the problem a rift that cannot be tolerated if they view her illness as biological and gently encourage her use of medication. On the other hand, if her parents view her mood swings as psychological, they may blame her for being emotionally unstable; then their attempts to force her into treatment may be driven by anger that she doesn't take responsibility for her actions. However, if they castigate themselves for causing her mental instability, their efforts to help her will be driven by guilt. Unfortunately, both anger and guilt will deepen the rift between them.
If our child chooses to open a wood-working shop or a gas station, we may be tickled pink because of his initiative or extremely depressed because we think manual labor is beneath the standards of our family. As long as we believe he should have found a "better" occupation, we will be reluctant to accept his choice of professions.
The extent to which the choices of children can pull generations apart depends, in large measure, upon the rigidity with which both parent and child hold certain opinions to be "right." We pull on the rope across the rift not so much because our child has different opinions and behaviors than we do but because we place positive or negative values on those opinions and behaviors. When an adult child wants to return home because she can't pay her rent, some parents are pleased to help out, wishing they could do even more; others will be distressed because they believe adult children must be independent and self-sufficient.
How does this variable apply to Maria's situation and to mine?
Maria did not believe that mixed marriages are necessarily "wrong," only that they present challenges she was unsure her daughter could handle. Angela's welfare and Maria's desire not to have to adjust to another change are the real issues, not a rigid belief in the separation of races. If the latter had been her position, her pain would have been much more acute. Resolution would then have been difficult, or impossible, as long as Angela chose to pursue her plans for marriage.
In my situation, David's chemical dependency was extremely painful because I know that alcohol and drug abuse not only creates problems in relationships and work — it can also kill. Although today he seems to have cut back on the chemicals he puts into his body, at times he has acknowledged that he may "possibly" be addicted. Nevertheless he does not believe he needs help. Certainly he doesn't think he's "hit bottom." I don't understand why that is so. It would seem to me that when he lived on the streets it would have been obvious that his life was not working very well. That would be considered "bottom" by many!
In addition to my reaction to David's chemical addiction, I am very upset by the fact that he does not have a job. If I believed that he had a physical or mental condition that clearly prevented him from functioning in a work situation, my pain perhaps would not be quite as great. However, I suspect he shares the attitude of many in his generation who have dropped out, or who see no need to expend much energy in working. Support from the government means he doesn't have to. Whatever the case may be, I am upset because I strongly believe that people need to be financially responsible for their own lives, if at all possible.
Our Bond of Love and Shared History
The blueprint for survival of the human species includes a unique connection between parents and the child who is entrusted to their care by birth or adoption. That solid bond is probably essential if we are to get through the rough spots without periodically wanting to sell our child to the highest bidder.
This bond of love is formed in many ways. Often it begins in the delivery room when our baby is held up for us to see and our eyes fill with tears of joy we didn't know possible. Our heart beats faster when we are drawn to the picture of one particular child among several offered for adoption, the child we will welcome into our home as one of our own. We see the smudged face of our boyfriend's little boy and it is love at first sight. Yet even when parents do not bond so quickly or so intensely, they almost always love their child.
The ease with which we bond (and the intense experience of that bond) does not guarantee, of course, that we will be excellent parents; nor does it prevent us from being abusive parents. There is much evidence that decent parenting can occur when parents don't feel particularly well connected with their offspring. There are also many cases in which parents who have a suffocating attachment to their young child can seriously damage that child's need for autonomy and healthy independence when he becomes an adult.
Because of the unique relationship we have with our child, as she grows we have an intrinsic interest in everything she does: her friends, her success at school, her talents, her shortcomings. Our interest and our desire to have her be a significant part of our lives can continue even after she has reached the age of maturity and even though she may want to do something of which we disapprove.
Maria has always felt very close to her children. The dynamic in their home is described by family therapists by the term "centripetal." Such families tend to pull children into the home and its atmosphere. The parents feel very uncomfortable and experience great loss when their children move out of the area, except for temporary activities such as college or a tour of duty in the armed services. Other families encourage, even force, their children to leave the nest. Such families are called "centrifugal." In these homes the dynamics tend to mitigate against disappointment when children choose mates unlike the family; disengagement is expected.
Since Maria placed a premium on closeness and harmony, she experienced more discomfort. The fact that her daughter was getting married was okay — as long as she returned for every holiday and participated with her siblings in family gatherings. But fears that her son-in-law might not be willing to insist that Angela remain connected with the family caused Maria great distress. She wasn't sure she could handle a rupture in the bond with her daughter, a bond she considered essential to her identity as a mother.
The bond I expected always to feel with my children also caused me great unhappiness as the rift grew in our family. My pediatrician was a kind old gentleman who, on the first visit to his office after my babies were born, had a special technique that reinforced the bond I already felt with my new child. He would hold the baby firmly under the arms and would lift him or her off the table to observe the baby's muscle tone. At that point in the exam he would always say, "We will dream great dreams for you."
Although my doctor probably said that to all his patients, I felt that somehow he had seen into the recesses of my heart and, in expressing the dreams I felt, assured their success. I also felt that I had been given a mandate to make certain those dreams came true. For perhaps the first five or six years of our difficulties with David, I could not tell that story without a lump in my throat and tears in my eyes. In remembering my intention to dream great dreams for our son, I felt over- whelmed because I believed I had failed to make those dreams a reality.
Our Coping Skills and Personality Style
Personalities, temperaments, and coping skills obviously differ greatly from individual to individual. We do well, therefore, to remember that our reaction to differences between us and our child is not necessarily the reaction all parents would have in that situation. Knowing others are less distressed may give us courage to learn new ways of reacting to our child and to build new strengths in our personalities, strengths that will lessen our pain.
Imagine a situation in which a young woman living with her parents decides to join a church different from the one her parents belong to, although it is within the same religion, because she likes the other pastor better. Parents who accept change easily will probably be unhappy that their daughter won't share church activities with them, but will otherwise not feel upset. Parents who do not adjust well to change and who tend to take everything personally, however, might consider their daughter's decision to change churches as an affront to them, whether or not they say anything. Each parent's distress is affected by the way in which she is able to adjust to new situations and by her ability to encourage and tolerate independence.
Maria had great personal strength, illustrated in part by her ability to maintain an active family life and also hold a responsible position requiring long hours at work. Her self-identity came from many sources, not just the image she had of herself as mother. She usually did not take on responsibility that belonged to her children, although in this case she did worry about whether Angela could handle future problems.
All in all, Maria's personality structure mitigated against extreme pain. She felt moderate discomfort over a situation she didn't know how to handle. She might have been deeply distressed if she had focused all her energy on her family. Then she might have wondered what she had done "wrong" to cause her daughter to select Kenji.
Even before the seriousness of David's situation was clear, I had begun to stop swimming upstream in my perfectionist attempt to be in control of situations that were not within my power to control. As I became more successful in that effort, my distress over my inability to change David gradually became less and less.
Because I have always been motivated to be a "better" person, I was focused on trying to "fix" the rift in our family, even though my attempts often floundered. Over time, however, I noticed that things were a little different, a little less tense. It wasn't David who changed, which is what I first wanted, of course. Instead, change gradually occurred as I learned to accept the reality that I wasn't able to make David change. Nevertheless, the fact that movement was happening at all gave me hope that there could be light at the end of the tunnel.
Different Expressions of Disappointment
Just as our personalities determine the amount of distress we will experience, our personalities affect how we respond. In almost all cases our response will be a variation on one of four themes.
Anger and Blame Openly Directed Against Our Child
In my experience, disappointed fathers react to rifts in the family with anger and blame more frequently than do mothers. They may let their child know directly, and often loudly, of this displeasure. Or they may simply distance themselves from their child with the silence of unspoken accusations.
There are several reasons men respond with anger and blame more than women. The first is probably that males are, generally, more comfortable with anger than they are with expressions of sadness and regret. They often attempt to cover their pain with anger by blaming the child for the family's turmoil. Women, on the other hand, have been socialized to deny their anger and to focus on relationships, smoothing things over.
Another reason mothers do not respond to family rifts with as much anger as fathers (although there are always exceptions) is, I believe, because mothers generally tend to bond more closely with their children than do fathers. This is not to suggest that men don't feel a deep connection with their children. But mothers get a nine-month head start on the bonding process. They've been carrying their child long before their husband has the pleasure of holding and rocking a baby. Mothers, therefore, are less likely to pour oil on the fire by showing their anger (even when they feel it), because they are afraid expressions of anger will further erode an essential bond that already seems frayed.
The most important reason that women don't respond with anger and blame, however, is because they feel much more guilty than men do. Their guilt drives them to use the next common response to disappointment and family rifts, constant pressure on the child in an attempt to get him to change his ways.
Nagging Fueled by Guilt
If you respond to disappointment in your child by frequently offering comments and suggestions for how he should live his life, you are not alone. You may call what you do "showing an interest in my child" and "just staling my opinion." Your child recognizes it for what it is, "nagging."
When we are stuck in a parent-to-child relationship, our "suggestions" easily take on the tone of nagging and manipulation. This is not surprising. We think we understand our child's vulnerabilities — and what he should do to overcome them. We know there are always pitfalls and dangers lying ahead to snare the unwary. After all, we've been around the block a few times and have made more than a few mistakes of our own. We want to prevent our child from going through what we experienced.
Consequently, if coercion and frequent reminders were our favorite techniques in getting our child to change when he was young, we will probably continue to use that approach in our attempts to reverse the direction in which our adult child is moving. With efforts both subtle and direct, we encourage our child to be more responsible, to enter a treatment program or to stop living with that no-good character. We lose sleep, money, and time in our efforts to form our child into the shape we want. Seldom do we see much progress for our efforts, but we continue trying "for the sake of our child."
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© Copyright 1994, Arlene Harder, MA, MFT, Reprinted with permission
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