dig deeper
You know, when my daughter was a baby I had the big "oh shit" moment, when I realized that I was going to have to stand up for her and hold a safe space in her world until she could hold that for herself. It took me way outside my comfort zone, and the need only got bigger as she got bigger.
No one ever tells you that this need will never end.
Not even when they turn 18 and graduate high school and work in the big world and have boyfriends they sleep with. Because at some point, the space she insists is "ok" for herself will be in direct conflict with the space that I hold for myself. The collision point is nasty.
Way back last fall, with her psycho-artist boyfriend away at school in NYC, my daughter got involved with a local guy and played both of them, til Mr. NYC found out. It was ugly. Unstable to begin with, this pushed him right over the edge, with very unfortunated consequences all around, ending with vandalism in our neighborhood and a call to the police.
Now, months later, he's back home from school for the summer, she's groveling for his attention, and "things are good now." So when can we drop this silly rule that he can't come in the house?
Ummmm, not now. I just don't think that anyone I"ve had to call the cops on should be welcome with open arms in the sacred space of my home.
"Well, you can just ignore him!" What, while the two of you are upstairs locked in your room? I don't think so.
It all puts me in that old place of "dig deeper" to name the proper edges in a bigger context. I can feel it inside me, a deep grounded authentic space expanding, no emotional charge to it, just the Big Truth.
Ain't no free lunch anywhere, and as she learns her very painful lesson that a) screwing around in high school will cost you your GPA, b) no real school outside of FL wants you with those grades and c) now you are STUCK in FL for another year until you WORK yourself up and out of community college.
Which means: living at home. Which means: new rules. Which means, since you have violated our agreement of successfully navigating yourself out of high school and away to college, I need to see proportionally more respect for the ease of your lifestyle by seeing some respect for ME.
I've worked so damned hard to keep this house while I created a business out of NOTHING, and now I should let your psychotic boyfriend who threatened you and vandalized us just waltz into this space?
I don't think so. And my job right now is to define this bigger context and the rules that come with it.
No one ever tells you that this need will never end.
Not even when they turn 18 and graduate high school and work in the big world and have boyfriends they sleep with. Because at some point, the space she insists is "ok" for herself will be in direct conflict with the space that I hold for myself. The collision point is nasty.
Way back last fall, with her psycho-artist boyfriend away at school in NYC, my daughter got involved with a local guy and played both of them, til Mr. NYC found out. It was ugly. Unstable to begin with, this pushed him right over the edge, with very unfortunated consequences all around, ending with vandalism in our neighborhood and a call to the police.
Now, months later, he's back home from school for the summer, she's groveling for his attention, and "things are good now." So when can we drop this silly rule that he can't come in the house?
Ummmm, not now. I just don't think that anyone I"ve had to call the cops on should be welcome with open arms in the sacred space of my home.
"Well, you can just ignore him!" What, while the two of you are upstairs locked in your room? I don't think so.
It all puts me in that old place of "dig deeper" to name the proper edges in a bigger context. I can feel it inside me, a deep grounded authentic space expanding, no emotional charge to it, just the Big Truth.
Ain't no free lunch anywhere, and as she learns her very painful lesson that a) screwing around in high school will cost you your GPA, b) no real school outside of FL wants you with those grades and c) now you are STUCK in FL for another year until you WORK yourself up and out of community college.
Which means: living at home. Which means: new rules. Which means, since you have violated our agreement of successfully navigating yourself out of high school and away to college, I need to see proportionally more respect for the ease of your lifestyle by seeing some respect for ME.
I've worked so damned hard to keep this house while I created a business out of NOTHING, and now I should let your psychotic boyfriend who threatened you and vandalized us just waltz into this space?
I don't think so. And my job right now is to define this bigger context and the rules that come with it.
posted by Cathy @ 4:03 PM
0 comments
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home