LETTING GO OF OUR ADULT CHILDREN
Chapter 6: The Velcro Syndrome
Page 18
BY ARLENE HARDER, MA, MFT
Note: This online edition is reprinted with permission. A paperback version is available for purchase from Learning Place Online.
How Can You Respond to an Accusation by Your Child?
If your child has falsely accused either you or your spouse of abuse of any kind or has strongly criticized some parenting decisions you feel were wise, you have my deepest sympathy. It takes a great deal of courage to maintain balance in the middle of an extremely unsettling situation like this one. And the circumstances aren't much better if you agree that some of what you are accused of doing was not right, or in the best interest of the child, but still believe your behavior was not sufficiently serious to warrant such accusation.
Nevertheless, if you want to have a genuine connection with your child and she has made an accusation that you did, or continue to, engage in some activity that caused her harm, you can only get past the stalemate of accusations and denials by facing the issues directly.
The process of healing will require you to keep two attitudes firmly in mind.
First, you must realize that no matter how clear your memory may seem to you, you do not recall the past accurately. Memory is a creative process in which events are overlaid with interpretations taught by successive experience. A memory at age twenty-five may be quite different from a memory about that same event when we are fifty-five. To put it another way, your memory of your daughter's childhood is not the way it happened any more than her memory of what happened is exactly what happened. You will both have memories of what occurred and they both contain kernels of truth.
The second attitude needed for a resolution of your problem is respect for the person who is asking you to see her life, and you, in a different light. Respect means you will need to listen to one another and be open to the possibility that there may have been some negative effect you had on the other person, even though you did not intend to harm that person.
Is Your Child Telling the Truth About Sexual Abuse?
Since there are seldom witnesses to incest, how can the truth be known if the incident supposedly happened many years ago? This question is at the center of every accusation of abuse based on memories retrieved in adulthood.
Recently the term "false memory syndrome" was coined to describe cases in which a person believes she has been sexually abused when in fact nothing of the sort has happened. In recent years there have been several cases in which families have been torn apart and good reputations have been ruined through such false allegations.
Criticism of therapists in these cases is understandable, especially if the supposed memories have been created by hypnosis and result from the relentless implication of abuse where there was none. There are probably therapists who have not resolved their own rage about the abuse they suffered and who use clients, perhaps unconsciously, as proxies in an effort to seek justice. Sometimes clients have read so much material on the wounded inner child that they have convinced themselves that they are incest survivors without having recovered any memories at all.
Having said all this, I must also state that most accusations of abuse are considered by reputable therapists to be legitimate. I know from my own experience as a therapist that when memories of abuse surface, the process gradually unfolds with great reluctance, sleep disturbances, thoughts of suicide, and profound feelings of shame. Clients fight the memories that intrude into their lives, offering them an unwanted view of their childhood. It is extremely difficult to believe anyone would deliberately put herself through this hell because she psychologically needed a catharsis for some strange reason. The pay-off is great pain and, often, estrangement from her family.
Is it Possible You Just Don't Remember What You Did?
Since this book is written from the perspective of the parent accused of abuse, what is the possibility that you did, in fact, abuse your child and simply don't remember doing so?
There are many men who, in a state of drunkenness, may fondle their stepdaughter's breast and later be unable to remember what they have done. There are parents who suffered sexual abuse at the hands of their parents or guardians and who have repressed their memories of it. When they then have children, they may, for example, wash their child's genitals longer and more roughly than necessary in an unconscious reaction to abuse they have not yet dealt with. Many years later, when that child (the grandchild of the person who began the cycle of abuse) becomes an adult, she may recall those baths with a realization that as a child she sensed that her boundaries were somehow invaded. But back then she could not object or put words to her feelings. Now she may accuse her unsuspecting parent of having sexually abused her. The parent will, of course, deny there were any sexual overtones in those baths so long ago — if she has not yet dealt with her own abuse.
However, most sexual abuse is not forgotten or repressed by the perpetrator. It is only denied. Parents who abused their child over a period of many weeks, months and years know what they have done. They simply deny because they want to protect themselves from the consequences that any exposure of their acts will bring upon them and their families.
I do not believe that if someone adamantly denies an accusation that his very denial is in any way evidence of his guilt. (There are those who feel that the more someone denies an accusation, the more likely it is true.) And I certainly don't intend to offer judgment on whether or not you are guilty of things your child accuses you of.
However, if you've been less than honest in your response to an accusation — and you know whether or not you have been — you are in an extremely difficult position. It is terribly hard to keep secret the knowledge that you have done something society considers taboo — and hoping desperately that no one will bring it to light. That secret must surely create a hell all its own. Yet one of the most cleansing experiences of life occurs when we unburden ourselves of what we have been trying for years to hide. That has always been the power of confession. And if you are carrying such a burden, this could be the time to unload it so that you can find peace at last.
"I'm Sorry, But . . . . ."
On the surface of it, it would seem that the matter of apologies to our children, whether for acts of serious abuse or minor errors resulting from uneven parenting, is rather straightforward. We recognize that we weren't perfect parents when our child was young and may still make mistakes. We tell that to our child. Our child is glad to hear our apology, to have his needs acknowledged openly. End of story.
Unfortunately, it's not so easy, in many cases.
Let me give you an example. My client Jill, whom I mentioned earlier in this chapter when I spoke of manipulation and mind reading, finally decided to confront her mother, Edith, with the fact that she would never come out and ask for what she wanted directly. Jill also wanted Edith to accept her just as she was and to pay attention to her; for her mother could turn almost any subject Jill initiated into a discussion of her own life or what was happening to her mother's friends. Jill's mother isn't any different today from the way she was when Jill was young. Edith has always been reluctant to state her needs directly and Jill has always been the dutiful daughter who had to figure out her mother's emotional needs and take care of them.
Edith's approach to life seems to stem from the fact that she and her infant sister were given up for adoption when she was three. The other five children in the family remained with their father, who felt he could not cope with seven children after his wife died. The conclusion young Edith drew was that she would still be with her parents if she had only been a better girl. Best not to rock the boat and openly demand too much or what you have will be taken from you.
What does Edith's childhood have to do with apologies? To begin with, she learned very early to use manipulation to get her needs met because asking directly was forbidden. And because she decided she had to always be "good," she later developed the persona of a perfect mother, fearing abandonment if anyone caught her making a mistake. There is no doubt that she tried very hard to be a good mother. But she was imperfect, of course, as all mothers are in one way or another; she did fail her daughter in several ways.
When Edith was confronted by Jill, it took a long time for her to acknowledge any mistakes. After all, she'd tried so hard! And so when she finally apologized, it went something like this. "I'm sorry, Jill, but you know I've always tried to do my best and it's been hard for me because your father wasn't always there when I needed him and I suppose that I've always tried so hard because I was adopted as a little girl and thought I could bring back my parents if I would only do things right and so I . . .."
A simple, "I'm sorry," or "I'm sorry I wasn't there for you," or "I'm sorry I turn your stories into an opportunity to talk about myself" would have sufficed. When our children were young, we all failed to be there for them one hundred percent of the time. The reasons are irrelevant.
Perhaps you see yourself as a terrible failure because you were an alcoholic when your child was young. You broke many promises to your child and failed to attend back-to-school night because you were drinking with friends. Now you've joined AA and consider your drinking to be a disease. You offer that explanation for your behavior when you apologize to your child. But your child did not experience a disease. Your child experienced a mother or father who broke promises and didn't attend school events like the other kids' parents.
The reason why we were imperfect parents is not nearly as important as the fact that we were. There may come a time when we may want to discuss with our child how we came to be the parents we were. We may want to talk about our shame of being an alcoholic or drug abuser or how our own parents abused us or failed us. Insights into our parent behavior are not unimportant. For starters, however, a simple apology is the best way to remove the Velcro of guilt.
One more word about apologies before we leave the subject.
We are all entitled to feel the way we feel. In fact, "entitled" isn't even an appropriate word when it comes to emotions. There is no granting of rights or entitlements that allow us to feel what we feel. Yet often parents get caught in the Velcro of non-apology because, while they can acknowledge they weren't perfect parents, they feel their child has gone overboard in her reaction to how her parents guided her through The Parenting Game.
If your daughter says she was extremely angry you didn't let her take horseback riding lessons, even though you could afford them, do you find yourself resisting an apology because you think her reaction is inappropriate? After all, you did what you thought was best in having her take piano lessons instead. But what difference does it make if you thought you were giving her the "better" kind of lessons? You missed understanding her deep desire to ride a horse. A simple statement, "I'm sorry I didn't realize you wanted riding lessons so badly" is enough. And again, no explanations are necessary.
I'll Change if You Change
One of the stickiest pieces of Velcro has to do with the popular game of you-go-first — offering to make adjustments in our behavior once the other person has stopped doing the things that drive us crazy.
What if that never happens? After all, there ain't no guarantee that our child is ever going to do what we want him to do! If we get our energy to pull on the rope from the hope that our efforts will pay off, our energy supply is likely to diminish year by year if our child remains as stubborn as we are. Before long we will be left with nothing but sore muscles to show for our efforts.
Instead, I'd like to suggest a miracle. That's right. A miracle. It goes something like this.
Suppose, just suppose, that during the night a miracle has happened and the problem between you and your child is resolved. There is no longer any conflict and dissension. You have both stopped pulling on the rope! However, since you were sleeping when this happened, you didn't know about it. But when other people see you, they can tell something about you is different, something that could only be possible if the problem with your child no longer consumed so much of your energy.
So what is it that would be different about you if a miracle happened? Would there be a lightness in your step if you stopped pulling on the rope? Would you look more peaceful and be more patient with others? Would the worry lines leave your face? Would you speak more kindly about your child?
And how about your interests in life? What would you do with your time if you were no longer occupied in staring at your child across the rift that previously separated you? What would you do with your money now that you no longer needed to rescue a thirty-five-year-old daughter who was unable to resist buying things on impulse and frequently needed a loan she never repaid? What kind of life would you make for yourself if you and your child accepted each other's right to have different values, to make choices, to make mistakes?
There's no doubt about it. If your problem were resolved, if there were no rift between you and your child, your behavior and attitude toward life would be different. There is also no doubt about the fact that you can change your behavior and attitude toward life even if the differences between you and your child remain unresolved to your satisfaction.
You might try waking up tomorrow and assuming a miracle has happened. After all, all you have to lose are the worry lines on your face and the tension in your body.
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© Copyright 1994, Arlene Harder, MA, MFT, Reprinted with permission
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