That's not so bad, right? Wife2's journey to understanding - and yes - triggers

[sanmagic7]

i agree with everything 3 roses said.  you are certainly not a stupid girl, but a warrior woman!  to do everything you are doing, including working on making sense of yourself and your world takes so much strength and energy and courage and determination - everything that goes into being a warrior.

i can relate to a lot of what you said about not having guidelines for being feminine, being a girl, being me.  i even went to a couple of retreats for women on finding their womanliness!  when i told that to a girlfriend, she scoffed and said, 'well, you wear nail polish' as if that's all i had to know.  but being proud of being female was not part of me.

i've also worn the baggy clothes, had the hunched over posture so as not to make my chest very prominent (my dad used to call me 'hunchy' and threaten to put a stick up my back to stand up straight.  this was by the time i was 10 or so  i was carrying the weight of the world on my shoulders by then).   my aunt introduced me to bras, rather than my mother, and, after being called 'gorilla legs' by a boy at jr. high school, i began wearing knee socks all the time.  no make-up till i was a senior.  since my mom didn't do any of those girly things, except wear blotted red lipstick, i was discouraged from all of it as well.

it's hard to feel like a woman when there's no attention given to it, or it is discouraged.  but, a woman you are, wife#2, in all her blazing glory.  i found it a big relief when the first time we found a mouse in our basement, i told my ex-husband to take care of it - all i could do was go 'ewwww'.  but it took many more years before i could actually say, 'i'm being a girl about this, you be the man' and feel comfortable about it. (not that i'm in any way diminishing my feminist side, but i needed to shore up my feminine side).

besides, my dear, you've just been through a hurricane!  you can't fail at this, you just got through (and maybe are still going through) another trauma.  that takes so much out of us.  you're merely doing what you can to get through with your sanity intact, and i think you're doing it well and bravely.  hang tough, i'm hangin' right beside you!

[Wife#2]

Thank you, ladies, for the encouragement. I'm in grateful tears, it means that much!

**** TRIGGERS, NEGLECT, NEGATIVE BODY IMAGE ****

San, I had to do a little laugh about your mouse story. That's even part of the problem at our house.

H stays home, I go to work.
H got to be home and raise our son up through preschool. I was at work.
H cooks, cleans and does the yard work. I work, clean around the house, help with homework and give face time to our son.
H squeals if a bug, spider, rodent or snake arrive. I am to handle them, he cannot.
H handles his money, I handle mine.
H can't drive (vision - why he's disabled). I drive everyone everywhere.

We've laughed in the past about the role reversals. It grinds my goat sometimes, but the facts remain. Then, there's the fact that we do both approach life with our basic gender wiring. He's a fixer who compartmentalizes things very efficiently. I'm an emotional being who has to consider the big and small picture at the same time.

And, in case it's slipped your notice, I'm a talker. I LOVE to talk. I LOVE to tell stories. The fact alone is so boring and cold, I have to tell the story AROUND the fact. My husband considers this beating around the bush and can, at best, tolerate it for my sake. But, it takes his energy away from actually listening when he's trying to NOT interrupt and 'fix' the situation or beg me to get to the point. I repeated AGAIN during our late-night discussion that, for me, the story *IS* the point. I and many women call this communication.

He wants a news report: Did you get ice? 'Yes, two bags.' Good. DONE.

I want events: Did you get ice? 'Yes. When I saw the bin was full over the clerk's counter, I was sooo excited! I snatched up TWO bags! See?' Was all that necessary? I just wanted to know if you got ice.

And he wonders why my self-image as a woman is even shakier than when I was a girl.

Oh, San, my Dad wouldn't call me names like hunchy (I'm grateful and giving your inner tween/teen a BIG HUG telling her that she is beautiful as she is and deserves to stand straight and face the world - because she is worthy!), but he WOULD step behind me, grab my shoulders and gently (he wasn't being mean) roll them until my back was straight. Then, say, 'Better. Wife2, will you please stand up straight?'

I'm realizing something as I typed that. Those of us who had neglectful parents suffered something so slight, it was hard to notice. They weren't hurting us, at least not on purpose, but they were missing the point. My father noticed that I was hunching over and wearing baggy clothing. He saw the symptoms but never asked why. He just wanted me to 'fix' it by dressing better and walking tall. My mother, if she even noticed, probably was the same way herself at my age, thus saw nothing wrong with it. It didn't even occur to her that I may have gone through similar things as she went through leading to the same result. She never asked. She just hoped I didn't want to talk to her about it.

And so I turned into a woman thinking the cruelties I'd already suffered must just be normal since my parents took no real note of them. I was sent into the world with no idea HOW to address things from body odors to dating boundaries. I became so grateful that a boy would even take an interest in me that I accepted what they told me about myself. It defined me as a woman and shaped my sense of self. With those little corrections but no instruction, I developed a sense of being flawed or a freak.

There was no loving grandmother to help me, my oldest living grandmother passed when I was only 12.

There was no loving aunt to guide me. My father's sister didn't like me and barely tolerated me the two summers I was shipped to her house. I was a good girl by many parents' standards and made HER daughter look wild in comparison. My cousin and I didn't manage to overcome all that and be friends until adulthood.

My other blood aunt had no children of her own and had already bonded deeply with my older sister. I barely saw her until the last 5 years of her life. She was a nice woman and I think would have been a God-send if she'd been around sooner.

There was only one other aunt, married to my youngest uncle. She was busy with her own two children. Once they moved to a distant part of the country, I never saw her again. I still don't see her except via Facebook. We are not close.

So, with no blood relative who felt confident of their femininity close by or willing to participate in my life, I was left to stew in my ugly, freakishly under-informed body image and sense of self. I watched my female cousins blossom, grow and become successful women. I watched my step-sister do the same (Dad was a good Dad to her). All that just cemented that it must just be me.

So, right now, I'm going to hug my inner little girl. My tween/teen gets a BIG hug, too. I'm going to sit down with my inner tween/teen later this weekend and see what SHE has to say. Find out HER story. Finally give her the voice she's never been given. I'm going to find out what was at the base of those hunched shoulders - who made me feel shame about my growing body? I'm going to find out why I felt I had to hide in baggy clothing. It's something about me, that's true, but inner critic got it wrong when saying it's because I'm a freak. Something more was going on. It's time to find out and begin letting it go. It's time to gently lift inner teen's chin and help her know that she was/is beautiful just the way she is and doesn't need to change a thing to be a successful woman.

I do wish I could afford therapy right now. But, I can't. So, this journal gets to be my therapist.

One thing I have noticed is that many of the women around me seem to be having the same silent struggle. So many of us had mothers who got too involved in themselves to show us what it means to BE a woman. We talk about men dropping the ball on teaching boys, but women are just as at fault!

My own daughter was struggling when I met her. She was already 17, engaged to be married and a mess of insecurities and issues. THAT was why she wanted me to read her young-heart journals. She didn't want to have to catch me up on the back-story, but she was asking for help. I told her I couldn't know her heart THAT well and stay a mom-figure, I'd be a friend only. But, I did try my best to help alleviate some of her self-doubt. She still struggles. It does help her to see me be strong, clean, put-together and admit to her that it's tape and staples and a pair of crossed fingers holding it all together. That way, she doesn't feel like a failure if she can't achieve the same herself.

[sanmagic7]

omg, my life is one story after another, intertwining and somehow leading to the next.  i started laughing out loud with my hands on either side of my face, shaking it back and forth when i read that about you.  i would've said exactly the same thing about the ice!  and, how many words did this take to say 'i can relate - i do that, too.'  hahaha!  and my hub tolerates my talking until he just falls asleep, and then i let it be.  it's like my voice is a sedative to him (he works 12 hr. days every day, so i don't blame him.  it's mexico, after all). 

i have a friend who used to take granddaughters and nieces for a long weekend every summer, do the mani-pedi thing, hairdos, all the girly stuff.  you're so right about women letting their daughters down in this area.

will write more tomorrow.  just wanted you to know, you've got a story-sister under the skin here.  too funny!  i love it!

[sanmagic7]

happy, happy birthday, wife#2!!!  i do so hope you enjoy your day, all your power is back on, and you're beginning to get your feet back under you.  i proclain it 'WIFE#2'S DAY' on account of you're wondeful.

   

that last is a mexican mariachi band (in my head, at least.  they always sound like they're celebrating!!!)l.  enjoy!!!   

love and a big hug to you!

[Three Roses]

Happy birthday! 

[Wife#2]

Thank you, ladies! I had a wonderful day, all told. And, yes, the POWER restored was the BEST gift of the day!



When I have more than a small minute here at work, I'll tell the story - it's a good one!

For now, I just wanted to acknowledge both of you and give you both a big, friendly 

[annakoen]

Ohh, I read it just now, happy belated birthday!!

Wanted to let you know I really appreciate you reaching out to me in my corner of the recovery journals. Also wanted to reply: My dad used to yell at me "stick out your boobs!", in response to my hunching over. Didn't help, of course... but he never realized that he was only making me feel worse. Thanks for sharing, it helped me understand too

[Wife#2]

  And to know you were NOT alone!

Sometimes, how some people choose to 'fix' us ~ I try to give the benefit of the doubt. Then... anyway.

Anna, It's sad how many of us can relate to this, but at least we do discover, through this website, that we are not alone. We are NOT freaks! We are women. Beautiful, hurting and healing, strong and powerful. Together, we create a village - distant though our homes may be. Within this village, we bond over our stories, gaining strength from each other, sharing it back again.

Funny (but not ha-ha), I'd rather have the boys at school snap my bra-strap than have my father notice I was developing! And the whole stand-up-straight-Wife2 thing wasn't even about that, it was just that he HATED to see poor posture!

[Wife#2]

*** Trigger alert, negative self-talk ***

Today. Just an average day. But, I've been reading others' posts and thinking and thinking and thinking. I haven't done a lot of responding today because I haven't felt like I could contribute positively. Why? I'm feeling a little selfish today. And THAT is not the spirit I need to be in when replying.

I have lots of memory snippets swirling around my head today.

Little flashes like my GC brother, 'God, Wife2, you're so frustrating! You SEE what needs to be changed, discuss what needs to be changed, understand how to change it - and do NOTHING'. He isn't wrong.

Happy little flashes like the faces of childhood friends all smiling at me.

Sad, quick EF of standing in church, singing badly (cause I can't carry a tune in an 18-wheeler) at the top of my voice, crying for all I'm worth. Heart hurting, wishing I could believe the words about being saved and forgiven. Wishing I could cry anyplace else, but only able on Sundays in church. Feeling self-conscious and NOT singing, or crying, when husband came with me a few Sundays. Sad because I gave up church instead of telling hubby his hobby had to come second to God.

Feeling self-conscious about hugging people, though I'm starved for physical attention that my husband will not provide. Feeling like I've crossed boundaries even with close friends, if I place my hand on their shoulder or elbow - even after being told this is fine by each person.

Believing there is something strange about me because I'm usually warm even when most of the women around here are cold. Hearing IC mutter, 'Cold hands, warm heart - what does that make you and your very warm hands?' Hearing on the heals of that from husband, 'Mutual friend Male told me to be careful and not marry you. He said he could see that you had a cold heart.' Wondering if Mutual friend Male is right and I should be lucky husband is still with me.

Trying not to show my emotions because it will bring questions I don't want to answer at work.

Feeling detached from everyone. Hurting emotionally and physically. Wondering how long husband will put up with the fact that I'm in physical pain before getting frustrated and insisting that he's waited long enough for sex. Wondering how I'll respond - so close to angry all the time lately.

Just when I decided to enjoy this day at work, co-worker reminded me of third-co-worker still suffering BADLY after the hurricane and how we SHOULD be doing for him and HIS family, since the rest of us are basically back to before-storm conditions. Feeling guilty for enjoying the day knowing that he's suffering still. Feeling overwhelmed by his need - he lost EVERYTHING.

More random thoughts popping in and out of my head today. Feel like crying, but holding back so I don't draw attention from coworkers. Time to get some work done....

[Three Roses]

I'd let you hug me and I'd hug you back!

[Wife#2]

Thank you, Three Roses   

[Wife#2]

I was avoiding talking about what's really bothering me. That's foolish. Especially since this is MY journal and I can put what I want in here! Geesh - I'm pre-judging myself so hard I won't even use this to it's fullest potential!

The situation. Husband remarks that DS8 needs a haircut. He does, so I and DS8 AND DSS24 all agree. Before I can finish with my dinner, H is pulling out the shears and putting on a short guard - it won't scalp DS8, but it won't leave much hair there, either. I finish my meal, DS8 is told to sit at the table. Knowing he needs a haircut, DS8 obeys.

DSS24, who remembers the LAST time H cut DS8's hair, tries to intervene, saying we really should just take the child to a barber. I agree, but I've fought this battle and lost many times. I remember that horrible haircut, too. Because it was summer, none of us told H the truth about what a horrible haircut it really was.

But, this was a school night and the poor kid would have to go to school with a butchered haircut. Still, I remained silent. DSS24 could stand it no more. He knew what DS8 would face at school if he went there looking stupid. The kid gets bullied as it is. So, after looking at me like I must be some heartless * and repeatedly begging his father to stop, DSS24 intervenes, has me call his sister, who actually can do hair quite well, and tell her he's bringing little bro to her house.

They come home hours later, DS8 looking quite spiffy with his properly done haircut. DSS24 is thoroughly disgusted with me and his father. His father for being so cheap that bringing DS8 to a barber is out of the question when he has a cheap set of shears at the house. Me for not standing up to H over the whole haircut issue.

I completely understand. But, these type of issues continue to happen. I know what the right way to handle it ought to be. I've tried it in the past. H will not acknowledge that DSS and I may have a point. Once he's made up his mind the best way to handle a situation, he is very difficult to dissuade. H refuses to understand the difference between the fact that HE shaves his head bald, which is fine as a grown man, but, an eight year old white child does not need to attend a majority-black school with a shaved head. It's just not a good idea. Especially given racial tensions in the country lately. It could be seen as provoking.

These are the situations when DSS looks to me to be the reason in the family. To defend DS8. To stand up to my husband. When I fail to do the right thing, he is understandably disgusted with me. I get very upset with myself when I fail to do the right thing by any of the three children, but especially the youngest. I am his only protection as he is the only one under 18.

So, I've been whipping myself for failing to act and relying on DSS24 to 'be the bad guy' in order to save his little brother. Yes, it was just a haircut. But, when the poor kid is already bullied and already in the minority in his school and already handicapped by incredibly uncool older parents, just a haircut can turn into a huge deal.

I am so thankful to DSS for doing what he did, and for DSD for doing the haircut! But, I am deeply embarrassed for being willing to let H do a horrible haircut and send my DS to school with it rather than confront H about his lack of ability. When will I finally grow a spine and stand up for what I know to be right!?! WHEN? 

[Wife#2]

Triggers - bathroom humor?

So, I finally remembered a part of a dream today. I'm sitting on a toilet at home. It begins to overflow (we've had lots of plumbing issues costing much $$ lately). I'm aggravated and get up to get to another toilet to finish my business. Suddenly, I'm in the multi-stall bathroom at work. All the walls between toilets are gone. I'm there alone, but feel like others will be coming in any second. I can't see the door for some reason. I'm now panicking. Every toilet I sit on begins to overflow. Some immediately, some after I've 'done some business' there first.

I just know I'm going to be judged for the condition of the bathroom and for the mess I am now.

Then, I woke up, having to pee. I took care of business and got back to bed, where, thankfully, that dream did not resurface.

Any dream translations on this one?

[Three Roses]

Books on dream interpretation bug me. Not every person will attach the same meanings to a particular component of their dreams. For instance, if you are afraid of dogs and dream of one, your symbolism regarding dogs will be different than mine, being that I love dogs and am comforted by their presence.

Take the major element of the dream and start there. Is it important that you were at work? What does a toilet overflowing mean to you?

Just off the top of my head, i would say your dream has something to do with personal issues at home (or similar issues) also becoming issues at work, and you're afraid of being overwhelmed and you can't see the way out (can't see the door). Close?

[Wife#2]

Pretty close in my opinion. Thank you! 

The website dream translators said bathrooms represent expressing emotions and getting clean. Whatever. I read a lot of them and this, along with what I know I'm dealing with lately, is my translation now:

At home, I can't express my opinion without it turning into a huge mess / ordeal. So, rather than deal with it, I take my emotional 'garbage' to work and try to deal with it there (using this website and others). Except, I'm easily humiliated by being emotional at work, too. I know it's considered inappropriate, but I have to deal with it somewhere. So, I bring it to work, hoping I'll have the privacy to cope here, embarrassed that sometimes the evidence of my being emotional still shows and sure that any minute, I'll be discovered for the huge emotional mess I really am. Not that anything negative will really happen, just that one of my ICr's favorite chants is that I'm overly-emotional.

Hmmm..... looking at that ICr's comment makes me think. Where did I hear that one enough to get inner-critic ranking? Not from Mom, she's a pretty emotional creature herself. Not from my sisters, ditto on the emotional. I doubt I heard it from Dad, or heard it much from him. He, having a wife and five daughters, came to accept that females are more emotional than he's comfortable with - not wrong, just different. My friends and their parents didn't consider me an overly-emotional child. That leaves the only one whose respect I wanted and who withheld that respect - my GC brother.

When I dig a little deeper, it's as if my brother did not like that I was a sister, so tried everything he could to minimize that 'fault' and try to make me more like him. This explains several facts that have carried through our adult years.

He seems still to have difficulty accepting that I grew up, married and had a child. He loves my son, but still acts towards me like I am incompetent as a female. He AND his wife make comments that they would LOVE to keep my son - and I think they mean it, and mean it permanently. How else am I supposed to take that except as an insult to my parenting ability? I know they mean it regarding their grandson. They would get custody of him so quick if their daughter would let them.

From the year that I blossomed to this day, he acts as if the proof that I'm a female is disgusting to him. I don't know any other way to describe it. Every picture where we're in the same shot, he's leaning back, turning his head away, standing leaning away as if ready to run, even if other family members are present. Wherever I am, he's pulling away from me.

This is at the root of my self-doubt about being a female, a woman. My father was awkward around me, but tried to bluster through and talked to me about having more self-esteem (not often and not in depth, but he tried). My brother only relaxed and acted natural if I was being particularly boyish - baggy sweats playing basketball, that kind of thing. Otherwise, it was as if I was kryptonite to his superman. He had to break free, get away.

As a kid, he was mean about cutting me down verbally. He thought it was HIS job to toughen me up. As we got older, either one of the parents talked to him about how he talked to me or one of the heart-siblings did. Anyway, instead of trying to form a relationship with me, he began his never-ending legacy of avoiding me at what seems all costs - while giving lip-service to closeness as a family.

As long as my heart-parent siblings were alive, I could counter his bull with their loving words. Sis has been dead 24 years. Bro has been gone 15 years. With them gone so long and GC bro keeping up his treatment of me like I'm defective, the ICr voice he birthed in my head is very hard to hush. And to have married a man who is perhaps too much like GC bro doesn't help the situation. Then, husband has the nerve to ask why I'm so touchy about these subjects (my feminity, my value as a person and as a parent).

So, now I have to work by myself to silence the voice of my brother disguising itself as my ICr. I can do it, but it will not be easy.