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Family of Origin
Hey, Cedar, or anyone interested in FOO (Family of Origin) issues. Cedar, WHY NOW???
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<blockquote data-quote="Copabanana" data-source="post: 658069" data-attributes="member: 18958"><p>Hi Cedar While my mother had a nearly lifelong functional alliance with my sister, it had its limits. She withdrew her love completely when angry and would strike and make her very very bad and wrong. </p><p></p><p>For the most part I was excluded. Had I chosen it? It little matters.They ran with it. I would call my Mother. She would soon have to go to dress herself to meet my sister and her family at a restaurant or go to my sister's house for dinner. I WAS NEVER INVITED. Yes, I was a 4 or 5 hour drive away...but there are places. And what does an invitation cost? They never thought to include me. My mother never invited me to come to her home. She never thought to.</p><p></p><p>Sometimes I would be favored and I would feel loved. No matter how much I distrusted the source, those golden rays felt oh so good.</p><p></p><p> I want to say two things here. First, this responsible tone...this yes, I will see that the right thing gets done...this authoritarian tone...is so discordant from all the rest I have heard in your sister's voice or in your responses to her.</p><p></p><p>The picture I get of your sister, true or not, is girlish, even at 60, and perhaps a bit shallow. Perhaps this comes from the picture of her colluding with your Mom, descending to whatever depths and degradation to get those last crumbs. Of attention. I feel for her. I do.</p><p></p><p>Second, my sister did that vulnerable Mama bit, too. And it was 100 percent self-serving. A way for her to take control, dominance OVER ASSETS. I do not want to descend into that muck now, but it was icky.</p><p></p><p>I seem to have a way of swatting my sister out of the way, so to speak. She will do this imperious thing and I will do this little tiny thing. Who prevails, do you thing?</p><p>Same exact thing, but I do not right now have the energy to tell the ugly story.</p><p></p><p>Yes, I believe you are right. I doubt it sometimes because my Mother was mad and rejecting of me. She targeted me. But after all that was her way, of course. To deal with everything negative that came her way by finding a scapegoat.</p><p></p><p>Cedar, when I read your understanding of those painful weeks...and how it was...I feel pride in myself. I really stood up. I think you know through your work...how many challenges meet a child of a dying parent. And so many more on top of it in situations such as ours...with ambivalence and conflict...and everything all twisted up.</p><p></p><p>I never once left...you know I physically left...to go home...to sleep....but I never once let her down. Yes, I made mistakes. But I never turned away. It took real courage. As much that, as love. I am grateful to you for helping me own that. </p><p></p><p>There were so many hard things. And I did them. The ambulance came here to the house 5 times. She was aspirating. And I was steady, calm and present.</p><p></p><p>I could fault myself I did not do hospice sooner, but that too I will leave for another day.</p><p></p><p>Thank you, Cedar. For this.</p><p></p><p>This is so beautiful Cedar. Unconditional love comes. They are our babies again.</p><p></p><p>Cedar, I do not know how to stand with my son, right now. After the pain I felt when he said those taunting words identifying with my father. I have not answered the phone for these days and do not know if he called or not. He has not called M's cell. </p><p></p><p>He must feel rejected by me. And yet, from my view, I cannot accept that piece of him that chooses to victimize me, the knowing and volitional ridiculing of my deepest pain and betrayal.</p><p></p><p>There must be a way to draw a line on that behavior, not the person. But when we set a limit, of course it affects the person.</p><p></p><p>I have not attempted to call him because I do not want by my choice to give the appearance of condoning what he said and did. But at the same time I want to call him to embrace what he is to me.</p><p></p><p>The part that seems to be the hot potato...is embracing the person he is right now. The person he is choosing to be is not particularly appealing to me. Yet I recognize I do not get a vote. Really. At least an election in which I want to participate.</p><p></p><p> But Cedar, when that place...involves diminishing of you...of that part of you that is so essential....How do you embrace the child who is victimizing? That is the tough situation that I see stymie so many of us.</p><p></p><p>I can call him and offer to talk. And risk rejection. And arguing.</p><p>I can not call him and wait until he achieves some perspective. Or not.</p><p></p><p>I do not want what happened with my Mother and I to repeat itself, and I will not let it. There was a breach. She never bothered or tried to heal it. It was more comfortable for her to let it be. While I was held responsible for the separation of so many years...the volition to do so was every bit as much hers.</p><p></p><p> If we stand up...and say...this I will not permit. For now, I will stop this in the way that I can. No. To this.</p><p></p><p>SWOT sees me as abandoning my son because he does not measure up to my own expectations and needs. Essentially scapegoating him, for the way I was mistreated by my father. There is truth to what she says, I know, but I cannot yet find the way that it is true.</p><p></p><p>I see myself standing up as a person, as a mother. As if to say, we will not go there. We can go here...and here and a million other places. But there, I will not go with you.</p><p></p><p> I hate her.</p><p></p><p>I would not be surprised. I know you are beautiful and it is good that you are claiming that space...which is true. </p><p></p><p>Now the ugly part: Our mothers really put trips on us about beauty. That is why you are so conflicted, almost ashamed to lay claim to your own.</p><p>I am going to say something very harsh. I almost never speak in these terms. It is almost as if there is flavor of your mother pimping you. She wants to own and take profit from your beauty. To take her cut. </p><p></p><p>How hard for you to own something that you know is such a contested space. She would not let you have your beauty as something lovely and free that was you. Your being. It had to be a "thing" with her, an object of her control...and marketing. </p><p></p><p>Your beauty, whatever beauty I had, should have been delight and pleasure and joy and glee. It was not. It was shame. It was hiding. Even fear.</p><p></p><p>Had we been able subjectively to own our beauty it would not be so fearsome to lose it. </p><p></p><p>My own beauty is much faded. I panic. I look in the mirror and feel horror. Loss of control. Sometimes, I fear that I cannot live at all if I am no longer lovely. I was never a real beauty. But good enough. Into my 50 I was stopped in the street and talked about in terms of my appearance. Not now. I am fat. Gray. I mean iron, dull, gray. Mousy brown gray. My dark chestnut with red and gold hair was that of the angels. I never felt its loveliness. That I lament.</p><p></p><p>I am divided Sometimes I feel a worthy goal is to let this whole appearance thing go...I mean I already have...but still want to get it back. I feel that is what healthy women do. They age. And it is okay. The extra pounds. The half size dresses. Those shoes. To me this shows strength, and acceptance.</p><p></p><p>I am my mother's daughter. I cannot let that part of me go. Without a fight So I am trying to eat 600 kcals a day, hoping that maybe this will work.</p><p>How could she say this to you? Who does she think she is, really? Was she beautiful, Cedar? </p><p></p><p>My mother many times voiced her regret that she was a mother. While she had wanted children, it did not turn into the TV commercial she thought it would be. But lacking the character to grow into her commitment, basically she came to blame the victims, the innocents, for what had been her mistake.</p><p></p><p>At least your Mom could be a little bit direct about, wishing you had never existed. That's all I can really say about it. How can you read it another way?</p><p></p><p>I would go to the Pope. Right now. You can say it is only a piece of paper. But it isn't really. This is a cruel, ugly word. </p><p></p><p>And back to where I am with my son today, if my son seeks to plunge a knife precisely into my deepest pain...do I allow it? I seek not vengeance. I seek not control or power. </p><p></p><p>What I seek, I think, is a limit. The question is who calls who first? And what do we say? There is so much love here. On both of our parts.</p><p></p><p>Thank you Cedar.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Copabanana, post: 658069, member: 18958"] Hi Cedar While my mother had a nearly lifelong functional alliance with my sister, it had its limits. She withdrew her love completely when angry and would strike and make her very very bad and wrong. For the most part I was excluded. Had I chosen it? It little matters.They ran with it. I would call my Mother. She would soon have to go to dress herself to meet my sister and her family at a restaurant or go to my sister's house for dinner. I WAS NEVER INVITED. Yes, I was a 4 or 5 hour drive away...but there are places. And what does an invitation cost? They never thought to include me. My mother never invited me to come to her home. She never thought to. Sometimes I would be favored and I would feel loved. No matter how much I distrusted the source, those golden rays felt oh so good. I want to say two things here. First, this responsible tone...this yes, I will see that the right thing gets done...this authoritarian tone...is so discordant from all the rest I have heard in your sister's voice or in your responses to her. The picture I get of your sister, true or not, is girlish, even at 60, and perhaps a bit shallow. Perhaps this comes from the picture of her colluding with your Mom, descending to whatever depths and degradation to get those last crumbs. Of attention. I feel for her. I do. Second, my sister did that vulnerable Mama bit, too. And it was 100 percent self-serving. A way for her to take control, dominance OVER ASSETS. I do not want to descend into that muck now, but it was icky. I seem to have a way of swatting my sister out of the way, so to speak. She will do this imperious thing and I will do this little tiny thing. Who prevails, do you thing? Same exact thing, but I do not right now have the energy to tell the ugly story. Yes, I believe you are right. I doubt it sometimes because my Mother was mad and rejecting of me. She targeted me. But after all that was her way, of course. To deal with everything negative that came her way by finding a scapegoat. Cedar, when I read your understanding of those painful weeks...and how it was...I feel pride in myself. I really stood up. I think you know through your work...how many challenges meet a child of a dying parent. And so many more on top of it in situations such as ours...with ambivalence and conflict...and everything all twisted up. I never once left...you know I physically left...to go home...to sleep....but I never once let her down. Yes, I made mistakes. But I never turned away. It took real courage. As much that, as love. I am grateful to you for helping me own that. There were so many hard things. And I did them. The ambulance came here to the house 5 times. She was aspirating. And I was steady, calm and present. I could fault myself I did not do hospice sooner, but that too I will leave for another day. Thank you, Cedar. For this. This is so beautiful Cedar. Unconditional love comes. They are our babies again. Cedar, I do not know how to stand with my son, right now. After the pain I felt when he said those taunting words identifying with my father. I have not answered the phone for these days and do not know if he called or not. He has not called M's cell. He must feel rejected by me. And yet, from my view, I cannot accept that piece of him that chooses to victimize me, the knowing and volitional ridiculing of my deepest pain and betrayal. There must be a way to draw a line on that behavior, not the person. But when we set a limit, of course it affects the person. I have not attempted to call him because I do not want by my choice to give the appearance of condoning what he said and did. But at the same time I want to call him to embrace what he is to me. The part that seems to be the hot potato...is embracing the person he is right now. The person he is choosing to be is not particularly appealing to me. Yet I recognize I do not get a vote. Really. At least an election in which I want to participate. But Cedar, when that place...involves diminishing of you...of that part of you that is so essential....How do you embrace the child who is victimizing? That is the tough situation that I see stymie so many of us. I can call him and offer to talk. And risk rejection. And arguing. I can not call him and wait until he achieves some perspective. Or not. I do not want what happened with my Mother and I to repeat itself, and I will not let it. There was a breach. She never bothered or tried to heal it. It was more comfortable for her to let it be. While I was held responsible for the separation of so many years...the volition to do so was every bit as much hers. If we stand up...and say...this I will not permit. For now, I will stop this in the way that I can. No. To this. SWOT sees me as abandoning my son because he does not measure up to my own expectations and needs. Essentially scapegoating him, for the way I was mistreated by my father. There is truth to what she says, I know, but I cannot yet find the way that it is true. I see myself standing up as a person, as a mother. As if to say, we will not go there. We can go here...and here and a million other places. But there, I will not go with you. I hate her. I would not be surprised. I know you are beautiful and it is good that you are claiming that space...which is true. Now the ugly part: Our mothers really put trips on us about beauty. That is why you are so conflicted, almost ashamed to lay claim to your own. I am going to say something very harsh. I almost never speak in these terms. It is almost as if there is flavor of your mother pimping you. She wants to own and take profit from your beauty. To take her cut. How hard for you to own something that you know is such a contested space. She would not let you have your beauty as something lovely and free that was you. Your being. It had to be a "thing" with her, an object of her control...and marketing. Your beauty, whatever beauty I had, should have been delight and pleasure and joy and glee. It was not. It was shame. It was hiding. Even fear. Had we been able subjectively to own our beauty it would not be so fearsome to lose it. My own beauty is much faded. I panic. I look in the mirror and feel horror. Loss of control. Sometimes, I fear that I cannot live at all if I am no longer lovely. I was never a real beauty. But good enough. Into my 50 I was stopped in the street and talked about in terms of my appearance. Not now. I am fat. Gray. I mean iron, dull, gray. Mousy brown gray. My dark chestnut with red and gold hair was that of the angels. I never felt its loveliness. That I lament. I am divided Sometimes I feel a worthy goal is to let this whole appearance thing go...I mean I already have...but still want to get it back. I feel that is what healthy women do. They age. And it is okay. The extra pounds. The half size dresses. Those shoes. To me this shows strength, and acceptance. I am my mother's daughter. I cannot let that part of me go. Without a fight So I am trying to eat 600 kcals a day, hoping that maybe this will work. How could she say this to you? Who does she think she is, really? Was she beautiful, Cedar? My mother many times voiced her regret that she was a mother. While she had wanted children, it did not turn into the TV commercial she thought it would be. But lacking the character to grow into her commitment, basically she came to blame the victims, the innocents, for what had been her mistake. At least your Mom could be a little bit direct about, wishing you had never existed. That's all I can really say about it. How can you read it another way? I would go to the Pope. Right now. You can say it is only a piece of paper. But it isn't really. This is a cruel, ugly word. And back to where I am with my son today, if my son seeks to plunge a knife precisely into my deepest pain...do I allow it? I seek not vengeance. I seek not control or power. What I seek, I think, is a limit. The question is who calls who first? And what do we say? There is so much love here. On both of our parts. Thank you Cedar. [/QUOTE]
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Hey, Cedar, or anyone interested in FOO (Family of Origin) issues. Cedar, WHY NOW???
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