Family of Origin Issues

Stability. I've always lived without it. I always thought that when I meet the love of my life, then I'll have it.   I imagined that once I'm in a relationship, he (whoever he is) will give me that much-needed stability I've been craving in my life.

They say dogs need rules, boundaries, and limitations.  When pet-owners are inconsistent in their disciplining or in their training or even in their energies, dogs can sense the instability, and they will act-out.  I've actually heard that humans are the only species that follow unstable pack leaders.  Unlike us, animals can sense strength (or lackthereof) in one another; and they will choose to follow only that one who provides stability and security.

In my family-of-origin life, I have never had stability.  In fact, I just had a very intimate talk with my mom about relationships, love, sex, and womanhood (another entry will definitely need to be written about that), and it turns out that she's never experienced stability either.  If I can trace my insecurities and fears to the original point, I know that my fears come from my mom leaving me. I lived in fear mostly my whole life-- terrified that my mom would leave me and I would be stuck with my dad.  My relationship with my dad has improved significantly over the past few years.  On the surface, we are a happy, close-knit family, and in many ways, we are now.  Kind of.  But my childhood years were more overtly unhappy, and consistently unpredictable and fear-provoking.  I have attributed that mostly to my mom's constant threats of divorce and taking my brother with her. I lived in perpetual fear that she would have abandoned me and left me with my dad.

In my talk with my mom tonight, she talked about her experience as a victim rather than the person who was always with the power of leaving. She talked about her experience of being a woman in an emotionally-unfulfilling marriage. She talked about losing her sense of self in her marriage and the sacrifices she has made since the beginning. She sacrificed herself in a marriage that even at the beginning, she knew wouldn't be good. But she believed that she loved him "more", so she decided to suffer and to go through with it.

Suffer.  What a stupid, stupid word.  Why did we ever decide to glorify that word as though it were badge of honor?  In some cultures, and I'll talk specifically about the culture of traditional women as well as some East Asian cultures and some religious cultures, suffering is considered to be a virtue, and one that will give you extra credit in your next life.  The mentality is that suffering will lead to better outcomes later, either for yourself or for someone else important to you.

The more I learn about suffering, the more I see its deleterious effects.  My mom married someone that was incompatible with her.  She felt suffocated from the irreconciliable differences but decided to "suffer"-- all the while vowing to divorce my dad one day so that she could leave one day and live her life her way.  And while she thinks she's done something noble -- whether it's for my brother and I, or for the sanctity of marriage-- her suffering has made her a victim.  And by default, it has affected the whole family too.  I am completely messed up because of our family dynamic, and my brother surely is affected too.

Because of this suffering, because of this marriage, I have always felt stuck in the middle between everyone, always mediating everyone's fights, always trying to keep things as calm as possible in the fear that this family will be broken apart.  I lived in fear my entire life, scared that my mom would leave, and that my family will be ripped to pieces.  I felt even more scared for me, thinking my mom would leave me with my dad, and that I would never see her or my brother again.  I lived in fear of my dad for so many reasons.  The most basic ones because that he is just so different from all of us: his beliefs, his way of doing things, his values, etc. etc.

As I have grown older, I continue to be in relationships that are unstable and unpredictable.  I stay with men who don't love me (but I can't let go of because they're like my dad and I feel guilty wanting to leave him too).  In those same romantic relationships, I fear that I will be left because I have grown up being so scared about being abandoned by the one adult who was nurtured me.  I felt she was my life raft in a deadly waterfall and I gripped onto her for dear life.  It's different now that I'm an adult. As a parentified child who mediates my parents' fights (as well as their triangle disputes with my brother), I grow more and more protective of each of them.  I am now concerned for them, and it's not just based on me losing my family.  I feel like I need to take care of them, watch out for them, and be there for them. I fear for my dad that my mom will leave him one day.  I fear for my mom what she would do if she were to ever leave.  She does not have her own career or her income.  She also has lost her identity in her marriage and in our family. As I talked with my mom tonight, she told me about the emotional emptiness she's experienced even when she got married.  She talked about putting all her love, energy, attention, focus on the family.  She talked about how she put every bit of herself into me and my brother and that we are her everything.  Should my parents ever separate someday, even in their older age, what would that mean for my brother and me? How do we juggle taking care of both parents when they have done everything for us but are not able to co-exist together? How do you repay someone who dedicated her life entirely to you because she was so devoid of what she needed in her marriage?

My parents currently live apart right now for business reasons.  My dad is abroad because his work requires him to be.  When he retires one day, my mom and dad will likely reunite and live together again.  What will that be like, we all wonder? My mom dreads the day that happens which I hadn't known.  Apparently she doesn't want to even think of that day, and she does not know what the future holds for her and my dad.  What does that mean, I asked?  To which my mom responded with an answer I subconsciously knew.  It all depends on the kids-- meaning me and my brother.  Because my mom gave everything to this family, she will depend entirely on us.  My mom's identity is rooted in us. Her livelihood rests in us. Her future depends on us. I already knew that before she even said it.  I know that if she ever chooses to leave one day, she will rely on us 110% to give her a sense of stability, identity, and belongingness.

You see, when we were in high school, my brother and I would take-turns going out and staying home. We lived with just my mom and it felt selfish to leave her home alone when she would never do that to us. As an adult, because I have moved far away now, I don't actually have to face this all the time, but my brother does.  I know he feels guilty when he goes out.  For someone in his mid 20s, going out feels wrong because I'm sure he doesn't want to abandon my mom to leave her alone at home.  My brother and I both have a strong sense of responsibility for my mom.  We both know what it's like to feel unstable, and we both fear that she will feel unstable if we weren't home.  And because I'm a little closer to my dad, I worry for my dad too. I wonder if he feels alone and what would happen should my mom ever leave him. What will become of him and his identity? He works so hard for us, for the family.  What would losing her do to him?

As for my own issues in relationships I am slowly recognizing that my break-ups hit me hard because they always signify the end of my hope for stability.  My original family doesn't have much stability, so I anticipated my future family to give me that.  I projected all of my hopes and expectations onto my partner. I lost my identity in each relationship so that I could just blend in, adapt, and be accepted into whatever life my partner has. No wonder my relationships implode. If I were already married, I expect my life would be like my mom's.  I would have no identity. I would be emotionally lonely and alone. I would have to invest myself in something else to compensate for the absence of emotional connection, the lack of stability once again.

I firmly believe now and today that suffering is unnecessary, and even worse, detrimental to yourself and your future generations.  Is it my fault that I've tried so hard to keep my parents together over the years? Do I contribute to the dysfunction that affects my family collectively but also individually?  Throughout my life, there has been nothing more scary than the thought of my family breaking up.  As I reflect on this idea more rationally and in a less-detached manner, however, I can't help but wonder... what if they had divorced one another and gone on to find better partners for themselves? What if a divorce meant they would be happier? More fulfilled with their lives? What if separating meant that my mom would live a more meaningful life and she would have a stronger identity outside of her family? My mom invested everything in us because she was so disappointed in her marriage and in her connection with my dad.  What if she had found someone who she could connect with emotionally, physically, and spiritually? Would she be healthier now? Happier? And in turn, would my brother and I have flourished because we were free to leave the house? To explore? If we hadn't felt obligated to babysit or care-take my mom, would we be able to find stronger senses of identities for ourselves?

I suppose this is all speculation.  I'm just wondering now about all the things I've been scared to think about before.  I leave a quote for myself in this entry: "What we do not know always seems to be terrifying. But what we know isn't necessarily better."  I know my parents are together today. I know my mom is unfulfilled, lost, and passively waiting for the next step of her life. I know that my dad does not know how unhappy she is. I know that my brother has not found his identity yet. I know that I keep looking for relationships to give me stability and that I live in constant fear of abandonment and loss. Given all that I know at this point, I am beginning to wonder if what I don't know isn't so terrifying anymore.