It's not just the expectations that annoy me, it's the emotional blackmail that goes with it. My mother was an expert. I remember visiting one of her friends with her during my school holidays. I was bored, I really needed a book to read or something to do, and was just getting fidgetty. My mother turned to her friend and announced, in a voice I knew also meant, "This is a message to you too, dear,"
"Did you know, my Marguerite has NEVER, ever been rude to me? I am so proud of this."
The admiring glance from her friend was probably coupled with, "Yeah, and I just saw a squealing pink thing fly past the window," in her thoughts, but it set up such a strong barrier to me to never, ever argue with my mother, that life was very difficult. The benefit to her of those few words lasted for years and I STILL resent the way it permanently shut off dialogue.
My kids argue with me all the time. I value their willingness to express themselves and am glad I've taught them to argue appropriately and positively. Emotional blackmail is banned.
But it still happens outside the home. Scripture teachers have really annoyed me. Remember, in Australia we have the option of religious education even in our mainstream schools. You tick the box yes or no, and also tick the box for the range of options available. As we have always been churchgoers (until fairly recently - we've slacked off a bit lately) we happily ticked the box for Proddy (Protestant) Scripture. Frankly, I wish I'd ticked the Tykes (RC) because what we have ended up with is some very damaging theologies. At least our local RCs think carefully and base their scripture on generations of sound doctrine, and not the latest fad as is happening in a lot of Sydney Protestant churches (hence our recent absences).
I became disabled when easy child was 3. difficult child 1 was a baby. My disability was obscure and weird. Also worrying, for a young girl. Was Mummy going to die? Nobody had any answers. At school scripture, her scripture teacher told her that if only she prayed hard enough, I would be healed. And so she did - but she never told me about it, I think she wanted it to be a lovely surprise. "Prayers are always answered," she was told. Nobody warned her that sometimes the answer to prayer is "no," or "Not yet". It really brought her faith crashing down when I stubbornly failed to be healed. She saw it as a personal failing on her part, for not being able to pray hard enough.
And then they did it to difficult child 3. His scripture teacher (someone I really like as a friend, although she's a ditz) sat with him and prayed with him for his autism to be healed. I was furious when I found out - prayer just doesn't work like that, our kids need to understand that it's not Santa Claus in the sky. God is NOT a giant wish fairy whose sole existence is to make our dreams come true. Just think of some dreams you've had, including the ones with big hairy monsters emerging from under the bed - want THEM to come true? Think of all the moral tales where a child's wishes come true but with dire, unexpected consequences because the wishes were not properly considered. These moral tales have a purpose - to teach us acceptance and patience.
And also with difficult child 3 - I'd spent a long time explaining to him that his autism is an important part of how he is made. His brain works a different way, but it does work, and very well too. To lose his autism might seem to be a good thing to people who don't understand, but to adapt to the difficult bits and rejoice in the wonderful bits is how we were raising him. To tell him that his autism is a bad thing that needs healing was definitely sending him a contradictory, bad message. Besides, life just doesn't work that way.
difficult child 3 HAS overcome a great deal. Some observers might venture to say his autism has been healed, but it hasn't. He has adapted very well and is using his special abilities to help do even better. He will always need to go carefully and watch his anxiety levels, but his prodigious memory and ability to focus intensely and deeply are a vital part of who he is and how he copes. They're also a part of his autism.
Where does one part of a person stop and another begin? difficult child 3 is a complex blend of everything that makes him who and what he is. To want to change any of this is like changing the ingredient of a cake from, say, flour to potato. Or cocoa to strawberry. You will still have a cake of sorts, but it will be very different, in more ways than you expect.
difficult child 3 was very difficult for some time, over his failure to stop being autistic. And while I'd been able to explain things to easy child when she was younger, I couldn't explain things to difficult child 3 because his language skills were not good enough, when this happened. His faith is very concrete, he doesn't cope with abstraction well. He was still thinking that Baby Jesus was born every year, magically grew up to be a man by Easter and other stuff just happened through the rest of the church calendar.
I understand your rage. really I do.
Marg
