Bashful: Exposing the Shy Narcissist
When most of us hear the word, “Narcissist,” we probably think of some exaggerated, boisterous, arrogant strutting peacock of a person. We think of over-the-top, attention-seeking behavior.
I thought that for many years. And I had numerous experiences with those types of individuals.
But there is another type of Narcissist out there. This person is flying under the radar, stealth, unassuming. Often called, the “Covert Narcissist,” they are also described as a “Fragile Narcissist” or a “Vulnerable Narcissist.”
But I think the best alternative term to describe these people is that of “Shy Narcissist.”
For whoever could think anything harmful could come from someone shy?
Just look at the image, featured here, of “Bashful,” from “Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs.” When you and I look at this little guy, there’s no fear that strikes our hearts. We don’t see a deadly, treacherous, manipulative enemy.
If anything, we feel compassion, maybe even a fond wish to take care of him. After all, Bashful looks so sweet and helpless.
And that, perhaps, is by design.
I’ve been challenged with a few Covert or Shy Narcissists in my life. In my experiences with Bashful, I’ve picked up on a few things, perhaps, some hallmarks of this certain type of Narcissist.
I’m Nice.
First, Bashful casts themselves as the “nice” person. “Nice” is code for harmless.
However, there’s often no harmless behavior to be found around such an individual. The “nice” mask allows for all kinds of sneaky tricks to exist. If we’re buying the image of sweet, innocent, Bashful, then we never take the opportunity, time or thought to look at what else is going on, besides this “niceness.”
“I’m Nice” is often the badge of honor a Shy Narcissist wears.
And what drives that behavior is the importance that Shy Narcissist attaches to image. Appearance, to many of these individuals, is often prized over truth. It is all about how something looks. There can exist an obsession, therefore, on the Shy Narcissist’s part, that they “appear” nice: nice in thought, word, and deed, as well as with their physical appearance and status.
Concerning my experience with Bashful, I have literally been coached to lie for them, to keep the illusion going, often at the expense of my well-being and safety. The “truth” was abuse, terror, addiction and unhealthy codependence. But, in their eyes, that truth was viewed as weak, uncomfortable and ugly.
What will others think if they knew what really was happening here?
That question, presenting unflattering reality, tortures the image-driven, Bashful.
Therefore, it must not be allowed to have air. It must be suffocated by the “nice” storyline, instead.
The “Shy Narc” wants only to be viewed in the most flattering light, even if that’s at the expense of someone else.
That’s not so nice, is it?
Don’t Pay Any Attention to Me.
Here’s a fun one.
Bashful, for all intents and purposes, is attention-seeking. Yet this Shy Narc will INSIST ON their Shyness, that they don’t need, or want, any attention, whatsoever. They insist they are content, humble, and happy with their lives and how things are going.
But poke- or wait- around a little longer, and soon enough, ulterior motives and manipulation will pop up.
If Bashful is, indeed, truly ignored, like he or she claimed they wanted to be, eventually, an entitled resentment will surface. Bashful fully believes he or she is such an exemplary, unique human being, that it’s only inevitable they will be discovered to be the stars they are.
So, when that doesn’t happen on the Shy Narcissist’s timetable and precisely according to specification, “Houston, we have a problem!”
Bashful is now offended and a smidge more desperate. The Shy Narc’s very real need for attention, acclaim and praise is not getting met.
Now what?
Bashful has already painted himself/herself in a corner by insisting, “No, don’t pay any attention to me.”
So, people oblige that request.
But that’s not what was supposed to happen. That was merely the cue for others to be mesmerized by Bashful’s niceness, star quality and, of course, humility, so much so, that they cannot help but gush over the Shy Narc.
And, since that is not happening, Bashful doesn’t give a moment’s pause for self-reflection. Nope. Instead, he/she doubles down with a Machiavellian approach: “the ends justify the means.”
Oh, boy, now we’re really having fun!
Bashful, instead of taking stock of things and owning their actions, merely looks around for a way to make the attention they crave happen.
And what’s the best way to go for that? By manipulating others to do your bidding!
YAY!
It’s more subtle than it sounds. In fact, not all Shy Narcissists are fully aware and intentional of the manipulative tactics they employ. Often, it’s unconscious. Yet the damage is still done. Bashful, knowingly or unknowingly, determines that other people will serve as the vehicles or the tools for their unfulfilled wishes.
The phrase, “living vicariously through another” springs to mind.
And indeed, that’s what happens. Bashful wants whatever he/she wants.
But this Shy Narcissist doesn’t want to let go of an image that is incongruent with that desire. Therefore, manipulation of another person must occur, so that Bashful’s reputation as a nice, humble, sweet individual stays intact.
Personally, I experienced this as I pursued the goals of a Shy Narc, doing the grunt work of achieving those realized dreams, while Bashful simply stayed behind the scenes, safely tucked away from criticism or judgment, never putting themselves out there. They were validated as I achieved their goals.
No muss, no fuss.
I’m a Helpless Victim.
Bashful is often oblivious to the harm he/she causes. Part of their “no muss, no fuss” conclusion, or any other Machiavellian conclusion, for that matter, emanates from their victim mentality vantage point. They are the only victims, ergo, they are entitled to whatever they want, especially if they perceive themselves to be “nice.”
For Shy Narc’s, being helpless is part of their allure. Look at the image of Snow White’s Bashful dwarf. Look at that face. Does it not scream, “Help me, love me, take pity on me?”
One rationale of a Shy Narc’s mindset dovetails into another, seamlessly.
“I’m ‘nice,’ ergo, I must tell you I don’t want attention (even though that’s all I can think about), ergo, I’m a helpless victim.”
Here’s where the puppy dog eyes come out. Here’s where Bashful elicits sympathy.
Yet, the Shy Narcissist is not interested in getting help to get better. It’s quite the contrary, in fact. Bashful wants help because 1) It’s attention, 2) It’s validating they are important, and 3) They don’t want to do the hard or the unpleasant work, themselves, when it’s much easier to have you and I do it for them.
This, again, can be part of the “vicariously through another” phenomena. They want the “perks” without the “work.”
Well, we’d all enjoy that, wouldn’t we?
The difference between us and Bashful is that we know we need to work for what we want, while the Shy Narcissist thinks they’re “owed it,” simply because of who they are as a person.
“Why do it if someone will do it FOR me?”
Once again, Bashful requested I “help” them. I had no problem, initially, with helping. That was, until I saw how they completely stepped away and allowed me to do all the work.
That’s not help.
Bashful, however, doesn’t see it that way. They only see themselves as getting what they want.
And if it takes being helpless, while having someone else do all the work to make that happen, so be it.
You are Always Wrong; I’m Always Right.
Again, there’s more dovetailing going on; one thought dissolves into another. And, it seems, at the epicenter of all Shy Narcissistic thoughts exists this one doozy: “You are Always Wrong; I’m Always Right.”
Whoa. Okay…
Yes, this seems to be the foundational principle of any Narcissist. However, the Shy Narcissist, our very own Bashful, corners the market on weaponizing it against us.
“You are Always Wrong; I’m Always Right.”
You can just feel the impasse from here, can’t you?
Yes, our nice, helpless, victim-y Bashful appears to use that perspective concerning any stance we take with him or her. This is especially the case if we disagree with Bashful and do not operate according to their dictates and wishes. Whenever we “disobey” them, it’s usually not too long before we hear (or feel) this decree, stated outright or implied.
In my many encounters with a Bashful, I’ve been confronted with this reality the most when, quelle surprise, I was asserting my own boundaries. Yes, how DARE I take care of myself! The ultimate sin, at least, according to the Shy Narcissist.
Back in “the good ‘ole days,” asserting my boundaries had more to do with not attending a social engagement, one in which my presence was “a must.”
However, now, within the past two years, I see, more clearly, this sentiment and its attempts at coercion and manipulation, as I prioritize my health, within the context of my cancer diagnosis. Ah, yes. Now, things take on more significance. Life or death, depending upon how I choose to take care of myself.
Most people, you would think, would “get” the need to take care of oneself regarding cancer.
But Shy Narcissists? Not so much. They’re still operating under the principle, “You are Always Wrong; I’m Always Right.”
So, with that line of thinking, further buoyed by thoughts like, “I’m nice, I’m helpless, and I need to get attention in a sneaky way,” you can see how, not even cancer, holds up.
Again, look at the eyes on Bashful. The Shy Narcissist wants you and I to believe that they are most important, the most in need, the most deserving of all attention. Never mind our life-threatening disease. We’re wrong. They’re right.
End of discussion.
I enjoy the lies and the drama I create.
Bold is not a word you’d apply to Bashful. “Bold,” by its very definition, is the opposite of the word, “Shy.”
And that’s exactly how our Shy Narcissist wants you to think about it. Bashful’s sneakiness allows him/her to bask in some stealth power plays.
Make a fuss. Create a crisis. Act helpless. Elicit sympathy or pity. Get someone else fighting for you, doing the work. Sit back, looking every bit the nice, helpless victim. Enjoy watching other people fight over you, fight with each other, while you, Bashful, keep your hands clean, confidently, boldly, thinking things like…
…I’m safe…
…I’m untouchable…
…No one is any the wiser.
Shy Narcissists are not direct. And, any kind of delusional boldness in these statements, mentioned above, has to do with their cowardice and their evasive, fear of confrontation, communication and truth. They are viewed and described by their masks of nice, sweet and helpless.
And, all the while, they believe themselves to be far superior to any mere mortal who engages with them.
“Never wrestle with pigs. You both get dirty and the pig likes it.”
George Bernard Shaw
This quote is often used to depict the futility of engaging with a Narcissist.
But I believe, in the case of a Shy Narcissist, Bashful views himself/herself as better than the mud pit. They won’t even get in; they won’t wrestle. That’s what other people are for.
Use as needed.
And, as long as we are willing participants, doing just that, Bashful is content and entertained. Bashful can keep believing he/she is better than us dirty pigs, rolling around in the muck.
Check Your Own Bashful Self…
And, while we’re talking about superiority, let’s do a little reality check on ourselves.
There is no inoculation for Narcissism. None of us are above having some Shy Narcissist tendencies. I say that, not to induce despair, but to promote healthy self-awareness.
Check yourself before you wreck yourself.
If we’re truly honest, we’ve all been a little “Bashful” from time to time. Perhaps we thought that being nice would work to our advantage. Maybe we’ve played the helpless card.
Or, even better still, maybe we think we’re always right about something, “and everyone else…” is wrong.
See yourself in any of this?
It’s okay. They say that honesty is the best policy. Start there. You can be uncomfortable, nervous, and disgusted by your behavior.
And then, you can change it.
Be direct. Be earnest. Be real. Be honest.
And, if you see any tendency toward manipulation, coercion or toxic victimhood…
Don’t be shy about it. Deal with it.
Copyright © 2023 by Sheryle Cruse
Job Description
Job descriptions are a much-needed necessity in this world, beyond areas of employment. Indeed, for those of us who especially struggle with healthy boundaries and codependency, knowing what the job description is within relationships, what we are and are not responsible for, can be sanity and sometimes, literal lifesavers.
Each of us needs to learn how to navigate the unrealistic expectations that constantly fly at us. And unfortunately, most us are improperly taught unhealthy and dangerous job descriptions. We are groomed to believe we must rescue, be there, available, constantly forgiving and allowing, no matter what toxic person or circumstance arrives in our lives. Many of us are taught to “just take it.”
Our health, our relationships, our families are, therefore, at risk. The stakes are high.
So, let’s look at some of the harmful, mistaken thoughts that we wrongly absorb and try to apply in our lives.
Be liked.
Right out the gate, we believe an impossible doozy. Oh, just be liked. By everyone. All the time. Without fail. What could possibly go wrong with this job description?
This is deadly peer pressure, even though, most of the time, it’s self-generated. We agree to the all-encompassing terms.
“Yes, I’ll be liked, even if it’s not good for me, even if it’s unsafe. Because, in the end, being liked by this person, by being pleasing in this situation, will be worth all of the trouble.”
Only, it doesn’t quite work out that way. For, in this gigantic, unhealthy and unsafe job description, we find more subtle, and just as dangerous, other descriptions. “Be Liked,” is the governing mandate to all other dysfunction.
Case in point?
Fix or Save People.
Ay-Yi-Yi.
This unhealthy part of the wrong job description we internalize has us repeatedly coming back and staying in harmful situations with harmful people. Addiction and abuse are rife with these dynamics. We supply, protect and enable someone, sacrificing ourselves, all because we love them and genuinely believe our “help” is helping them.
It is not.
Yet, we believe it is helping because, somehow, we need to believe it is helping. If we fail to adopt a Savior role, we believe our very identity can be at risk. And, for some of us, that is unacceptable, even life-threatening.
Do it all.
Likewise, we can also adopt another oppressive mandate in a harmful job description: we must do absolutely everything. We must be Superman or Superwoman. No excuses.
It doesn’t matter if we work full-time, are raising a family, are caregiving, we must do way more than is asked of us. After all, we, again, want to be liked.
So, somehow, we rationalize, we will find a way to get everything done.
Please everyone.
We believe fulfilling the toxic job descriptions, including doing everything, will successfully accomplish being perfectly pleasing. Again, we’re back to “be liked.” We’re back to our Savior role and function.
What do we fear if we’re not liked, if we’re not being pleasing?
Rejection? Loss? Failure?
For some of us, that is too high of a price to pay. We envision the worst-case scenario, so much so, we dare not even ask ourselves the hard questions, let alone, answer them.
We just cannot go there.
Hold it together.
And that, therefore, ushers in yet another harmful principle in our unhealthy job description. We think can hold it all together somehow. Spinning plates? Sure. Why not add a couple more?
We can easily believe we are the only ones to solve all problems, tasks and issues. No need to delegate; I got it. No need to ask for help; I got it. No need to say no; I got it.
Only, we don’t have it. We have a mess. We have a breakdown coming our way.
Much like the self-imposed pressure to “do it all,” we, likewise, expect that we will prevent, sustain, protect and help a circumstance perfectly, without any fallout or untimely event throwing a wrench into everything. Perfectionism is a hard taskmaster; it’s unreasonable and irrational. And impossible.
And unhealthy.
For perfectionism, in its supposedly “noble” pursuit, inevitably, has us obsessing on image over truth, no matter what the situation may be. We may not be aware that we are doing this; we may have no intention of doing that. But impact has the final say.
For, in our striving to “hold it all together,” we, consciously or unconsciously, give sole importance to how something appears. If things “look” healthy, pretty, organized, happy or “right,” we can tend to believe we are, in fact, doing our job effectively.
But take a closer look beyond that beautiful smiling face, that supposedly fit physique, that Norman Rockwell-looking family, that well-ordered life, and what really is going on there? Addictions? Abuse? Depression? Toxic relationships? Criminal activity?
What if we worked on healing the mess, not just making it aesthetically pleasing?
So, What IS My Job?
Each of us does have a job. It’s not about avoiding all responsibility. Rather, it’s about taking appropriate, realistic responsibility for ourselves.
Such a small thing? Far from it.
The antidote to being liked? Love people.
This seems like a no-brainer. And how many of us, doing the dysfunctional job description behaviors, thoroughly believe we are doing it “out of love?” But love looks different than codependence, than enabling an unhealthy choice. Loving people is far different than being liked. Sometimes, they are diametrically opposing to one another.
Loving people sometimes means not helping.
We can, without knowing or intending, cause someone’s death, because of our supposed love for them. Think drug addict who overdoses because we supply them with the money and the substances to do so.
Loving people sometimes means saying no.
This is the ultimate test to us people pleasers, isn’t it? We fear rejection, scorn, not being viewed as kind or valuable. We risk someone’s unflattering opinion of us.
Loving people sometimes means no longer being in relationship with them.
There are times when we need to let others go. Dissolve and sever the relationship. It’s too detrimental to stay connected. It means imminent destruction. We need to accept that this death must occur.
And then, we need to grieve that loss.
The antidote to fixing or saving people? Be authentic.
We cannot save or fix anyone. Yes, we can “help.” But we need to scrutinize what is help… and what is not. The root of ascertaining that involves authenticity. We must be real and honest with what is happening and how we are contributing to that situation. Perhaps, our “help” isn’t help at all. Perhaps it is harm. Perhaps, because we fear facing the truth ourselves, we opt to be someone else’s solution. Doing that is selfish, counterproductive and unloving to ourselves.
We need to recognize that being authentic sometimes means that we will have limits. And we need to enforce that reality. Sometimes, we shouldn’t give people endless chances. Sometimes, constantly giving money to an addict of any kind, keeps everyone in disease, instead of recovery.
Sometimes, we need to recognize we choose to be inauthentic because we see it as easier. And, as unflattering as it sounds, we like the path of least resistance.
Being authentic isn’t that. But it is integrity. And when you and stay choose integrity over ease, we have the realistic peace we have been craving our entire lives.
Being authentic does not equal being pleasing. But it does equal being our honorable selves. It is scary, but it’s worth it.
The antidote to doing it all? Take the next step.
Once again, we get caught up in perfectionism. We fail, then, before we even start.
Somehow, we believe that, unless and until we can do something perfectly, it’s not worth starting. We magically think that all the stars must be aligned, this or that prerequisite must be in place, laying the perfect foundation for our plan.
And that perfect foundation, that perfect star alignment just never happens.
In the meantime, we up the stress ands pressure levels. With procrastination, comes heightened anxiety.
“Faith is taking the first step even when you can't see the whole staircase.”
Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.
Dr. King was on the money here. Life does not require all certainty and all answers be made available for us to take action.
Life is about doing the next thing. What IS that next thing?
Solving a world problem, completely and thoroughly? Or is it taking out the garbage? Brushing our teeth?
You may laugh at that. But really, life is about many small, ordinary, tedious tasks being accomplished on a daily, consistent basis.
How about we take things down a notch? How about letting ourselves off the hook concerning perfection… concerning anything or anyone? There is no such thing. We do what we can; we have limitations.
We have the inherent right to live life without doing it perfectly.
Period.
The antidote to pleasing everyone? Speak my truth.
Authenticity and truth go hand in hand. It’s impossible, unhealthy and perfectionistic to please everyone. We will fail. Therefore, choosing to be truthful about ourselves can free us from pressure, whether it be self-imposed or implemented from others. We don’t need to be nasty or rude about voicing our authentic truth, only brave. It’s hard to go against the grain. Popularity contests are still around, long after high school has ended. Peer pressure. Conformity.
Yet, when we succumb to trying to reach those states of being, we seem to only feel constrained, trapped, like frauds.
We need a newer measuring stick, being our truthful selves. That remains when the temporary trend, situation, relationship dynamic, inevitably, changes or ends. The truth of who we are, should we choose to embrace it, remains.
The Antidote To Holding it together? Breathe.
Sometimes, we need to make things as simple as possible.
When you and I hit the wall, the realm of our finite beings, it is, therefore, helpful to remember to breathe. If we can do nothing else, while stuck in any moment, we can do that.
We hear so much, these days, about mindfulness, about being present and in the moment. What each of these things have in common for us, whether or not we recognize it as such, is breathing. It’s automatic. Most of the time, we don’t think about it.
But take breath away, literally, and suddenly, we are full conscious of it.
This is probably at the very center of our human job description: just breathe. Do nothing else right now.
Yes, I know, there’s so much going on.
Just breathe.
Yes, I know (insert any other reason or excuse)…
Just breathe.
We’ve all bought the lie of what our job description should be. We’ve all turned ourselves inside out; we have jumped through flames and hoops, trying to be “enough.”
We are that already. Our job description should reflect that.
Truth. Enough. Realistic truth. Not the lie any longer.
Copyright © 2023 by Sheryle Cruse
Friend or Foe?
Concerning the abusive dynamic, I’m uneasily reminded of Abraham’s Lincoln’s statement about enemies…
“Do I not destroy my enemies when I make them my friends?”
That’s a lovely theory, and, in an ideal world, I’d be quite enthusiastic about it.
But life is un-ideal… and filled with abusive people who require a different approach from us… for our own safety.
With all due respect to President Lincoln, somehow, I don’t think he considered the toxic manipulation of some individuals. When someone is abusive, they are counting us having kind and generous natures. They are counting on us to forgive and freely allot multiple chances to them.
Overriding Our Instincts:
“The enemy of my enemy is my friend.”
Ancient Proverb, “The Arthashastra”
Try thinking of this proverb this way: the gut reaction concerning my abuser is my friend.
See anything different now?
Yes, here’s, often, where it all gets started. We completely ignore our intuition. We dismiss our gut.
When we are involved with an abuser, we often don’t want to acknowledge that painful reality. We try to talk ourselves out of it. We convince ourselves that this kind of ugly stuff doesn’t happen to “people like us.” We reassure ourselves that this person is too attractive, too wealthy, too intelligent, too nice, too this-or-that, to be an abuser.
As much as we believe the abuser’s lies, we believe our own even more strongly.
The Harm: “Do I not destroy my enemies when I make them my friends?”
All of this can set the dangerous stage to sway us into wanting “to make things work” with an abusive, harmful person. We’re encouraged to make nice. If we just believe our magical thinking, over unflattering reality, then everything will be okay.
And it’s not just that. We give more authority, more credence, to the “other” opinion, be it the abuser’s, the family and friends trying to talk us out of “acting too rashly,” and even systems like clergy and law enforcement, who encourage us to “think about what we’re doing.”
The translation of all of that is this: don’t trust yourself; trust them; trust us.
But, may times, by doing that, in matters like abuse, there is no destruction of the enemy, only the destruction of ourselves.
That’s not a fair trade.
Destructive Striving:
Speaking of destruction, there’s a lot of destructive striving. We reason, “If I can just do this, or stop doing that…”
And somehow, we never quite finish that sentence, other than to soothe ourselves with the hope that, “things will be better.” Again, it’s the magical thinking which woos us into accepting the faulty, dangerous core belief. Whether or not we know the exact language of that core belief, most of the time, it goes something like this:
“This is my fault. I deserved it. If I can just act right, then the hitting, the screaming, the pain (the abuse) will stop.”
The Harm: “Do I not destroy my enemies when I make them my friends?”
If we entertain Lincoln’s statement, while in this mindset, we can convince ourselves that being friends with our abuser, being accommodating concerning them, will solve things. All it takes is our willingness to be friends, and, again, “to make nice.”
But, often, when it comes to our striving, we’re the only ones doing the work. There is no two-way street. There is only the continuation of an unhealthy and unsafe dynamic.
The 4 F’s:
Most of us have heard about “fight or flight” coping strategy when it comes to crisis and an adrenalin response.
But there are two more “F’s:” Freeze and Fawn.
And, again, in the light of abuse, these reactions can be vain attempts to stop the pain, the violence and the unhealthy dynamic we suffer, at the whims of the abuser.
We desperately try to reassure ourselves, no matter which tactic we employ, “If I do this, maybe, they’ll leave me alone.”
The Harm: “Do I not destroy my enemies when I make them my friends?”
Again, the mistaken belief we accept, much to our detriment, is that the onus lies solely with us. It’s up to us, to fix and change things, never the abuser’s job. Make friends, “make nice,” do whatever it takes.
Fight… maybe we don’t fight our abuser, but we fight for the remedy which will change things. Flight… perhaps, we try to flee to safety, to avoid the harmful person and the ugly reality, any way we can.
Freeze… we can try not to be noticed; we endeavor to blend into our surroundings.
Fawn… we attempt to give in, hoping our acquiescence will prompt the abuser’s mercy.
Again, it’s all about us making things better, “friendlier,” for and with the abuser. However, during these attempts, we only exhaust and deplete ourselves. Nothing gets better, nothing changes, at least, not in the real ways we desire.
And, all the while, the abuser is comfortable, enabled, even rewarded as we are the ones doing all the heavy lifting.
Once again, in this situation, “friendship” is not the answer, just a harmful, codependent mirage.
Refusal of “What Is:”
The American Buddhist nun, Pema Chödron is famous for her concept, “Idiot Compassion.” It’s when we continue to participate in an unhealthy dynamic, situation or relationship because we feel obligation, responsibility, pity and yes, complicated love/enmeshment for the toxic person. We believe our involvement is necessary and helpful, even if it is to our own detriment. We believe that, if we keep “helping,” then things will finally be the way we long for them to be.
We pin magical thinking on “what if,” instead of “what is.”
The Harm: “Do I not destroy my enemies when I make them my friends?”
Repeatedly, we convince ourselves that it can change; they will change. It will get better.
We can do this for years, for decades, for our entire lives.
We can do that at the expense of our health, safety, marriages, families, careers, finances, relationships and personal goals.
Again, returning to the Abraham Lincoln enemy/friend quote, we cling to the hope that our hearts, our desires and efforts, somehow, will win the love of the abusive person, so much so, that they radically and permanently transform, love us back, and participate in a healthy, loving relationship that heals our wounds.
And, again, we take sole ownership of that unrealistic and unhealthy feat. We do not allow the other person to rise and fall on the realities of their own consequences. We rescue them before that ever has a chance of happening.
So, there’s no impetus, no need for change. Why would that person change? Things are working so well for them. We’re taking care of everything for them.
Keeping the Foe a Foe: Permission To Heal:
You cannot negotiate with abusers, much like you cannot negotiate with terrorists.
Ideally, yes, everyone would be able to get along, make amends, do the Kumbaya thing. But that concept is an unachievable Utopia, not the real world.
It’s to the abuser’s advantage, and to our disadvantage, to make them our friends, and a part of our inner circle.
We don’t need to be hostile or injurious about it, although, from the abuser’s perspective, that’s often how they’ll view our actions. This isn’t about seething hatred and bitterness, about plotting our revenge.
Rather, it’s about first granting ourselves the permission to keep harmful people out of our lives. This can start with a tiny word: “no.” This starts with boundaries.
Boundaries are the simple answer to a short question, “Is this person healthy for me?” Yes… or no?
It goes beyond the stories and the reasons why we insist on giving someone harmful access to our lives; it goes beyond every single extra chance, grace, forgiveness and opportunity.
Is this person harmful? Yes? Then that person is not a friend. That person is a rightful enemy.
Still wrestling with the question? Objectively how would you view someone outside of you, someone you care about, struggling with the same issue?
Would you advise them to stay, put up with it, keep getting hurt? No, you probably wouldn’t do that. You care about them too much to allow them to be harmed.
Well, now it’s time to care about yourself.
Be a friend, not an enemy, to yourself.
Copyright © 2023 by Sheryle Cruse
One of the Biggest Mistakes in Life…
"One of my biggest mistakes in life is thinking people will show me the same love that I've shown them " - Heath Ledger
When I was twelve years old, I entered and won a writing contest for the metro area newspaper.
My winning entry was “What is the one thing necessary for contentment?”
I find it quite humorous to get that insight from a twelve- year- old, but, regardless, I spewed forth my wisdom.
“The one thing that is necessary for contentment is being happy with yourself first and then with others.”
Yeah. I know.
I expounded further wisdom, repeating clichés like, turning my frown upside down, ending self- pity and thinking happy. In addition to those concepts, I was also heavily influenced by the “truth” that if you are nice to someone, they will be nice to you in return.
Uh-huh.
But, I guess, the cynic was still in training.
Perhaps, “cynic” is the wrong word to use here. Maybe “realist” is a better choice of words.
Ah, yes, being realistic! How it can burst the fairytale bubbles we blow in our lives.
But burst we must. People pleasers, like yours truly here, do not enjoy hearing and heeding that approach. We want to just keep working on our own personal world domination plans of getting everyone and their pet ferret to like us, to love us, to approve of us, telling us what our value is.
So, what could possibly go wrong there?
Years later, I’d like to think that I have significantly evolved from this childhood essay. I’d like to think I have a handle on the people pleasing, on the seeking and dependency on external validation. I’d like to think I have the rock- solid self-esteem, unshakable and constant.
(I hear you smirking, by the way).
Yeah, I know. It is just not that simple or that easy.
To paraphrase Ledger’s quote, we ask the following question, constantly, of ourselves…
“Why won’t people show me the same love that I've shown them?”
I have been learning, even with my inner twelve-year-old protesting at the education, that the answers go a little more like this instead.
They Don’t Like You.
Oh, man! The people pleasing, codependent individuals that we are REALLY hate that!
Many of us believe and tightly grip the assertion that each person will like us and be as committed to seeking, developing, and maintaining a relationship with us as we work to accomplish those things with them.
And it doesn’t work that way.
No matter how hard we try to make it so, no matter how much we exhaust ourselves by being and doing what another person finds pleasing, it does not work.
Some people just don’t like us. And nothing can change that. Perhaps, it’s like being Lactose intolerant or hating peanut butter. For some people, it is just a gigantic NO in response to us.
And that’s okay.
We, as people pleasers don’t believe that’s acceptable, but acceptance of this reality is critical.
Last year, I came across a beautiful sentiment:
“Make room for the people who want to love you.”
For each person who says “nope” to us, there is a person, several people, in fact, who DO want to like us, love us, accept us, go bowling with us, etcetera. We need to focus on connecting with those people and leave the “nopers” to their decision about us.
Live and let live, like or dislike.
They Don’t Love You.
How’s that for feeling warm and fuzzy?
In “The Prophecy,” a 1995 film, starring Christopher Walken, one of its characters, Satan Himself, uttered to another character, “I don’t love you.” He was trying to show how mercy, understanding, and love were not innate in him for any person.
And sometimes, that is just how it goes with certain individuals relating to us.
Hard and cold. They don’t love us.
That lack of love can display itself in a myriad of ways: hostility, envy, resentment, neglect, screaming, verbal, emotional, physical, sexual, spiritual, and financial abuse. Sometimes, it is an intentional, all-out hit on us. Sometimes, it is thoughtlessness.
Whatever the case may be, a lot of us people pleasers and codependents seem to prioritize, expect, strive for, and believe that love from a person, any person, exists for us, somehow, some way. We just need to do whatever it takes to tap into it. We can assume all the responsibility and burden for being loved, while refusing to accept another person’s free will decision to choose NOT to love us.
Perhaps, because many of us find it inconceivable to be unloving, we project that onto others. And some people are quite hunky- dory about not being loving to us, or to anyone else, for that matter.
I know. We, who are big balls of fuzzy, gooey unicorn love cannot accept or understand that perspective. Why would anyone choose not to love? Why would anyone choose to do that?
Answer: because some people do.
For reasons that are and are not valid.
And, quite frankly, those reasons are none of our business.
Stings, doesn’t it?
And again, while we’re all stung from that reality, let’s examine this next perspective in the love/expectation department.
They Don’t Think About You.
Inconsideration, a lack of loyalty, and carelessness can all run rampant when we encounter other individuals’ reactions to us. Sometimes, we are nowhere to be found in their thoughts.
Years ago, when a family member died, no one contacted me; no one thought to contact me. Why not? I don’t know. But it hurt and angered me.
No common courtesy?
No basic respect?
No love for me, a fellow family member who lost a blood relative?
Nope. At least, there wasn’t strong enough evidence to support those concepts.
And again, I’ll never know the why behind it all. Despite my efforts to communicate, it was not reciprocated.
And sometimes, that is just how it goes.
You and I are just not on their minds. Period.
And it hurts. It’s not fair, It’s not humane, perhaps. It doesn’t feel like the decent thing to do. We wouldn’t do such a thing, we assert.
But different people make different decisions. Sometimes, they are thoughtless. Sometimes, someone else deems us as not worthy of their thought.
Regardless, our inherent value does not change. And yes, we are worthy of good, loving, caring treatment.
That doesn’t mean we will always get it.
It’s Not Personal (But it FEELS Personal).
“It’s Not Personal.” We have all heard that phrase. Sometimes the wound and the slight are unintentional.
Intention may be one thing; impact is quite a different matter though, isn’t it?
There is a theory which states that the opposite of love is not hate; it’s indifference.
And maybe that goes hand in hand with the impersonal.
Let’s face it, fellow codependent, fellow people pleaser, fellow lovey unicorn: things people can often have a much greater, stronger meaning to us than they do concerning us. We can sink a much larger investment into someone when, the entire time, that individual could take or leave us.
They may be under the belief we are just acquaintances. They may choose to not like and respect us even as we have declared our eternal devotion, mowed their lawns, shelled out money, doodled their names with heart symbols in our journals and notepads. We make things personal while the other party doesn’t.
And that other party is perfectly okay with that impersonal touch. They sleep well at night; they don’t include us in their prayers. They don’t have us register as important in our lives.
And that is completely within their free will right to do so. No permission is required. Does that make it feel right? Or fair? Or loving?
No.
But it’s there. An while it is there, WE are still loveable, valuable, wonderful people who deserve good treatment in life.
Nothing can change that. Don’t believe the lie that someone else’s thoughts- or lack thereof- can change our worth.
Reciprocity: Balancing the Scales:
As with most things in life, it comes down to energy. What is invested and spent? On what? On whom?
It’s like continuing with a bad stock that provides diminishing returns. Would you consider that a good investment? Would you keep sinking everything you have in your life, into that stock?
Or would you reconsider and find another stock more suitable to meeting your wants, needs, and expectations?
Reciprocity is a reasonable relationship dynamic. It’s not about keeping score. It is about the evident reality of give and take. Family. Spouses. Life partners. Friends. Co-workers. People that we encounter in this human existence have the ability and the choice to reflect reciprocity. And, if they show themselves to be unable or unwilling to do that for you and me, that informs us with everything we really need to know to lead the life we deserve.
Dare I say it, reciprocity, in my opinion, should be a deal breaker.
We cannot control how others treat us. However, we can control how we treat ourselves.
Let’s stop making the mistake to have that continue to be shabby treatment. We are worth much more than that.
We can generate our own self-respect and self-love. Let’s choose to nurture and feed ourselves, beyond any one person, no matter how important we deem them to be.
We are important enough in our own right!
Copyright © 2023 by Sheryle Cruse
Organic Face Tattoos and Other Hijinks
It’s hard to prepare for Breast cancer. We can often believe we know exactly what that landscape looks like: intense fear, surgery, chemo, radiation, hormone blockers and the looming possibility of death.
But that is not all of the possibilities out there.
Oh, no!
There is still more fun to be had.
Since my diagnosis, I have stumbled upon a few instances of this extra “fun.”
First, there was the matter of my chin. Yes, you heard me.
At the tail end of my radiation, I woke up to a parting gift one morning: a black mark on my chin.
And no, it was not a mole. Those are dark brown. This sucker was jet black and noticeable even with makeup covering it.
After several unsuccessful attempts at scrubbing my face, freaked out, I called my radiation nurse. What was this? We were targeting the right side of my chest, not my chin.
She seemed unconcerned as we spoke on the phone. Meanwhile, I’m wondering if this thing was going to spread further; I still had some treatments to go. I envisioned my mug looking like Mike Tyson’s face tattoo.
She examined it when I came in later that day. And, upon closer inspection, my nurse calmly mentioned how, your favorite and mine, stress could change the pigment of the skin. So… black spots.
She assured me, “In time, it will fade.”
And yes, it has, although I still see a faint trace. Souvenir, I suppose.
I’m Itchy:
Okay, so, eventually, my face calmed down and, concerning Breast cancer mayhem, I was able to focus on my chest. Yep, things were quite chesty in the early days of my recovery. And, that’s because I was itch-er-rific.
They say itching is a sign of healing. Well, then, I was healing intensely.
With my bilateral mastectomy, I told my surgeon to take all of the breast tissue. I wasn’t interested in leaving some behind, a flap’s worth here or there, to possibly get reconstructive surgery if I changed my mind. Nope. I really was done.
So, from surgery wakeup on, I had one patch on my right side that was especially “skin and bone.” I’m talking tissue-paper thin… and itchy.
As I went to checkups with my Cancer Care treatment team, no one raised an eyebrow. This is just my brand of healing. Because so much tissue was removed during my surgery, that patch would be sensitive. It was skin over breastplate bone. Sensitivity, plus all breast tissue removed, plus healing, equals itchy, I guess.
And it persists, to this day. It goes with the tight scar tissue band across my chest. Healing. You can probably hear me scratching right now.
With so much emphasis on the loss or change of breasts, there is not much said about personal itchiness. And I could have really used that head’s up.
Dents and Creases:
Continuing on with the lack of head’s up concerning my Breast cancer experiences, there was the matter of me changing shape with dents…oh, and creases.
I knew I would not have breasts on my chest after my bilateral mastectomy. I knew that area of my body would change. After the stitches, after the burned skin from radiation, after months of my skin tightening and healing, I noticed something. On my right side, the side that contained the tumor and the irradiated, slightly swollen skin, I had a couple of dents. It was explained to me, by my both my physical therapist and my surgeon, how part of my healing involved rebuilding that area. Visions of Arnold Schwarzenegger and Mr. Universe competitions danced before me. I wasn’t thrilled about that. But, indeed, as I healed from major surgery and from radiation’s intensity, I was rebuilding muscle and tissue. So, dents.
And the creases, mainly one prominent one where my right breast used to be, also got my attention. This was beyond a person’s face having a crease or indentation from a pillowcase or a bedspread. This looked like the right side of my chest was ironed and folded incorrectly. When I raised my right arm, it formed a “Y-shaped” crease that traveled North. And it did not straighten out as I attempted to push, pull and stretch my skin. Nope, just a divining rod, “Y-shape,” almost smirking from its crease-i-ness.
So, there I was again, panicking, bringing this up to my care team. Again, I was assured I was simply healing. This was how I was sewn up and this was how my skin responded to my scar site. Regenerating muscle and developing scar tissue were all part of the “new normal chest,” with a large “Y” chest crease.
I learned the lesson: if you have Breast cancer, along with its accompanying surgery and procedures, your chest will change in ways you didn’t expect.
And, just when I got slightly comfortable in that lesson’s discomfort, another wackadoodle thing popped up. But this time, it wasn’t my chest. Try my left calf instead.
Yeah.
A year after my surgery and radiation, I felt a discomfort- and a lump- in my left calf muscle. My little imagination went straight to worst-case scenario. I wondered if this was a cancerous mass. And this discovery happened during the holiday season. It wasn’t a very merry Christmas- nope. Amid the colorful lights and “good will toward men,” I was pondering Sarcoma and possible amputation, fa-la-la-la-la. Extreme, you might say? Out of the realm of possibility? Well, cancer already hit my life. And my dark nature bleakly concluded that all bets were officially off now.
When I had it checked out, my primary physician, to her credit, did not dismiss me as a silly girl, patting me on the head. No, after explaining my symptoms, she immediately ordered X-rays and an ultrasound. Top of her concern list? A potential- and life-threatening- blood clot.
Oh, great, something else to think about.
I learned this possible issue could occur after surgery and radiation: yes, both of those procedures put me at an elevated risk of blood clots. Fantastic. Cut nerves and pathways are cut nerves and pathways. I couldn’t avoid the fact that my body was attempting to adjust to itself after some major physical trauma. Anyway, I was zapped and canvased and received my results within the next two hours.
No, I wasn’t dying. There wasn’t a tumor. There wasn’t a blood clot. Instead, it was the return flare up of my chronic back issues, a non-Breast cancer issue. My physician explained I had thousands of miles on me, like a car.
It’s always great to hear you’re old, especially from a medical professional.
But even though this was not directly Breast-cancer related, the knowledge of potential clots showing up in my legs and other weird things happening to my body is still something on my radar screen, as I ponder all manner of “what’s wrong with me now” thoughts.
The fact is I’m more vulnerable to things going wrong. Fun. Call it recurrence, complications, “increased risk,” or “mileage,” it still emphasizes how a weird thing happening to my body can no longer simply be dismissed. Cancer Land, the amusement park that it is, changed that.
So, lumps, bumps, dents, aches, pains, sensations and pigment changes are all possible hijinks now. And yes, that irritates me. Nevertheless, I pay attention and go along for the ride, taking care of each situation, one by one.
I have to say “hi” to the hijinks.
Copyright © 2023 by Sheryle Cruse
Is That So?
Is it true; is it kind, or is it necessary?”
Socrates
Words.
Words heal. Words kill.
We have all heard the expression, “If you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all.”
Yet life isn’t that simple when it comes to what is said to us, is it?
And nothing gets the painful ball rolling quite like hearing certain things from our childhood, often beginning with our family of origin. For here is where seeds get planted, lies get told as truths, and issues are born long before we realize them as such.
Some examples?
“You’re ugly. / “You’re fat.”
Almost from the start of our arrival on the planet, we are assessed and judged by our appearance.
Boy/Girl.
Healthy/Unhealthy.
And soon, before we know it…
Cute/Ugly.
Thin/Fat.
Value determinations are right alongside of these simple, yet powerful, words. We are often taught, usually at the speech of a trusted adult, that we aren’t good enough because of how we look in their estimation.
And it has nothing to do with who we are… and everything to do with who they are.
Consider the Source:
Hello, Projection.
Some of us with disordered food, weight, and body image issues, indeed, have endured this kind of projection. Perhaps there was a parent who struggled with his/her own weight, and, instead of dealing with those issues directly, saw an answer or a release valve in shaming us when we were small children.
Doing so, perhaps, allowed the adult parent to still self-hate and be critical but take no responsibility for his/her personal behavior. Placing the blame on someone external, even if that is a small child, redirects the source of the problem. Yes, it’s the child’s fault, not mine.
So, there are those of us who have absorbed the harmful lie that there is something wrong with us. We are fat. We are ugly. We are bad. We are wrong. We should work on fixing that, a/k/a, fixing Mommy or Daddy, to make things right.
It’s our job to do so, after all. Our childlike mind cannot withstand anything contrary to that punishing job description.
We want to be good boys and girls, right?
“You’re stupid.”
After our very image has been assaulted as children, what can usually come next is our intellect. Think about how many times you, perhaps, were told, “You’re stupid.”
And it is sometimes accompanied with the following question:
“Can’t you do anything right?
These commentaries attack or core being. Essentially, we, as children, can often absorb the message, “I’m too stupid to live, be loved, and to have self-worth.” That realized language may come later as we mature and even enter therapy.
But, make no mistake, as innocent children, we internalize the visceral experience solely as a defect in us. We believe there is something inherently wrong with us.
We’re “too stupid” for it to be otherwise.
Consider the Source:
People sometimes do not have our best interests at heart. In fact, sometimes, they live to have our worst interests motivating their behaviors.
Now, add the devastating factor of a so-called trusted adult, parent, or authority figure to the equation and see just how damaging the results can be!
Jealousy, insecurity, and schadenfreude (the term used to describe someone who delights in another’s pain or misfortune) are not limited to adult-on-adult relationships and interactions. No, often, their tentacles can spread from a fully grown adult, jealous, and insecure of the child within his/her midst.
For instance, a mother recognizes the special gifts and talents in her daughter. Those gifts and talents may be a high I.Q., a unique creativity, or a precocious communication style, so far advanced for the child’s tender years, that this adult gets threatened by it.
The adult may, indeed, feel “less than” whenever she is in her child’s presence. Insecurity, jealousy, and a need to “level,” to “take the child down a peg or a notch” becomes all-consuming.
If the adult cannot rise to that level of brilliance or intellect, naturally, according to the insecure parent, the only recourse is to eviscerate the child’s giftings and sense of self, so that the child, indeed, is the “less than” individual in the parent-child relationship.
“You’re worthless.”
This harmful statement is often uttered on the part of the parent and/or trust adult authority figure. It comes across, via image and performance-focused issues.
Some of us are told it outright. Some of us get the insidious constant message, communicated daily to us. We are inundated with beliefs like, “I don’t look the way I’m supposed to look,” “I don’t act the way I’m supposed to act,” “I’m wrong,” and “I can never do anything right.”
Therefore, it’s not too long before we draw the conclusion, if it isn’t dictated directly to us, “I’m worthless.”
Consider the Source:
Who told/taught you that?
Again, who is the first author of this harmful belief, directed our way?
We learned it from somewhere, from someone, after all.
But, perhaps just as important of a question is “Why did they tell/teach you that?”
Again, it’s important to recognize that another person’s motivation, be they trusted parent or any other adult in our young lives, may not be noble, healthy, or loving.
When an adult, especially a parent, to a child, insists that child is value-less, defective, or only as good as the last thing achieved or perceived (focusing on the elusive image and perfectionistic mandates), it screams more of that adult’s inferior sense of self.
And again, that adult may wrongly determine the solution to their poor self- image is to make the child’s self-image worse.
It’s the adult’s issue, not the child’s. That is, unless and until, through abuse of the power and the charge the adult has over the child, the young and innocent party is now inheriting the unresolved issued of previous generations.
And the child doesn’t question why it’s happening, often times, because they implicitly trust that their parents, teachers, coaches and other “respected authority figures “know what they’re doing, love me, and want the best for me.”
In an ideal world, yes.
But do we live in that world?
Is That So?
These three little words can begin a relief-inspiring process of healing, if we are open to it, if we are willing to challenge the “reality” which appears to be so intimidating.
“Is That So?”
Incorporating these three words, saying them out loud to ourselves, and even to others can, indeed, place us on a path of heathier self-perception and choices.
You and I were fed any number of lies and harmful beliefs about who we were in the world. Many of us have been wrestling with that daunting setup since childhood.
When we were children, there was little we could do to fight against that harshness. The adults had the power, the ability, the control, and the force to execute whatever misguided, abusive, and evil will they desired to inflict upon us.
But we are adults now, empowered to choose something different, if, for no other reason, than to honor that long silenced and neglected child. The question is “Will we do that?”
Consider the Source:
As you and I consider each harmful source, speaking each harmful word into our lives, will we create another source, all our own? Will it be ourselves, someone who, when questioned if we are worthy already, someone who will confidently respond with an authentic and brave “yes?”
Let’s start being that kind of authentic and brave source right now, right where we are!
Copyright © 2023 by Sheryle Cruse
Wouldn’t Versus Couldn’t
At the risk of being a Debbie Downer who deflates all positivity, we live in a life with limits.
Why am I bringing up this fun topic?
Because we tend to beat our heads against several walls, trying to force one answer where another already exists and will not change.
Situations like addiction and abuse highlight that reality. How many of us, especially us codependent types, will hang in there, enable, try, and blame ourselves for the self-destructive actions our loved ones make? It is often within this realm, we are confronted with will versus disease, and personal choice versus circumstances beyond our control.
Wouldn’t Over Couldn’t:
One such loved one for me was a female family member, “Jenny” (not her real name, of course).
Jenny grew up in a physically abusive home, regularly watching her father beat her mother with his fists and hammers. Unable to do anything to stop the chaos, Jenny, not surprisingly, focused on simply surviving.
And that meant she turned to food as her coping mechanism. She ate to feel better. She ate to escape. She ate to numb. She ate to deal with her “unacceptable,” unsafe, and repressed rage. She ate for every other reason, except to nourish her body.
This set the stage for her struggle with food, weight, and body image for the rest of her life. Constantly either dieting or binging, Jenny became a depressed individual. And, as an adult, she chose not to seek therapy for her issues. She became convinced her answer was only found in a diet and the achievement of a weight loss goal.
There were multiple factors impacting Jenny, not the least of which, was her depressed state. One can bring up the point of how much her depression was there from the start, eliciting her self-medication, or how much of it was brought on by her daily, abused trauma.
Chicken or egg: which one came FIRST?
Still, her “wouldn’t” exerted a strong will over her “couldn’t,” in the respect that, she was aware of professional help, therapy, and counselors. As a child, she was powerless to seek those things out, as her adult parents had the final say in her life. But as an adult, she could make a different choice. And she did not choose therapy.
She chose, instead, to insist she didn’t need counseling (that was for OTHER people), she was healthy, compared to her alcoholic siblings, all while dieting and binging, chasing an unrealistic and faulty solution in being thin as the remedy to her pain. She did this all while simultaneously becoming morbidly obese.
It’s not to shame or judge. It merely illuminates, despite the complexities of life and trauma, in this case, those of Jenny’s life, ultimately, her decision was to choose to say no to help. You and I can make that exact same choice, despite our different lives and painful issues.
Scripture has a couple of great ditties that underscore this concept.
First…
“‘If You will, Thou canst make me clean.’ And He stretched out His hand and touched him, saying, ‘I am willing; be clean.’”
Luke 5:12-13
There is help. Do you and I ask for it? There are therapists, doctors, programs, books, support people… and even prayer, itself.
Do we reach out, admit we need help, and grab those tools and lifelines? Because the overwhelming response from these helpful resources, usually, is this…
“I am willing. Be clean.”
Fairly straightforward, wouldn’t you say?
Ah, but here’s where another scripture ditty comes into play concerning the help/get clean issue…
“…‘Do you want to get well?’"
John 5:6
Boom! Mic drop.
Is our “want to” busted?
Would we rather stay sick?
Would we rather say no to help?
Each one of us has had moments in which we appeared to choose disease over health, chaos over peace, misery over fulfillment.
We all know the common sense answers: eat healthy, exercise, get enough sleep, be around people who treat us with love, dignity, kindness and healthy behaviors, delay gratification. Even if that hasn’t been our direct experience, we know, because, again, there are resources. There’s social media, the internet, television, and people offering to give us these very things.
Do we accept or do we refuse?
Most of us, if we’re honest with ourselves, can probably admit to, at least one instance of saying, “Nah, I’m good. I wanna get loaded, get high, binge on junk food, stay with this toxic person, etcetera.” We know the answer we “should” choose.
And then we choose its opposite.
Couldn’t Over Wouldn’t:
“…The spirit is indeed willing. But the flesh is weak.”
Matthew 26:41
As Jenny grew older, her weight ballooned. Her decades of dieting and binging caught up to her one day in the summer of 2009. She woke up on a Sunday morning, had a stroke, and collapsed. She wasn’t found until two days later, when a welfare check was done. Hospitalized for days, it was soon determined she had lost the ability to walk because of the stroke. And her excess weight made everything more difficult to achieve, including the restorative therapy to repair some of the stroke’s damage. She was moved to a care facility, where she spent the remainder of her life.
And now, her obese body is confined to a wheelchair. Despite exercise being a regular part of her daily routine, as part of her care, she cannot do what it physically takes to lose enough weight that would place her in a “healthy” range. She is monitored, on a multi-drug regimen to deal with her slew of health issues.
But, by and large, the window for Jenny’s ability to make significant changes to greatly improve her life and her health has closed. Try as she might, especially in the early days, post-stroke, Jenny was adamant about walking, insisting she’d be back to her normal self in no time flat.
Her legs said otherwise.
Stubborn at that reality, she often overdid things, pushing herself past what was doable or safe. She fell many times, all while maintaining she could walk.
This was a woman who once avoided physical activity, loathed it as punishment, and only a means to get “thin.” Now, she desperately wanted to be active… and could no longer be.
Perhaps, now she was willing. But, like Matthew 26:41 stated, her physical body was, indeed, weak.
It has been a painful cautionary tale for my family members and I to behold.
When the “Wouldn’t Window” Becomes the Closed “Couldn’t Window…”
We can delude ourselves into thinking we have all the time in the world. We have endless opportunities laid before us. We have chance after chance to do something. We will get to it “later.”
But what if “later” is “too late?”
I mention this, along with Jenny’s situation, to illustrate how, as despair-filled and hopeless this outcome may be, it also does have a silver lining attached to it.
When we flawed, vulnerable, human beings encounter life moments that show us that maybe, a moment or opportunity has passed us by, that maybe it does feel “to late,” a grace can flow from that broken place. And that broken place asserts that in human weakness, be it physical, emotional, mental, or spiritual, compassion is something we qualify for when we simply just “can’t.” It doesn’t need to be life and death matters, or something as severe and attention-getting as not being able to walk, like Jenny. It can be anything that we “give way” on.
When stress, pressure, and, well, life, come at us, we will find ourselves giving way to it. And there is no shame in that; there is only humanity.
And I hate to break it to ya, we’re not being excused with any kind of hall pass from that humanity.
Pesky little sucker.
So, when you and I simply can’t, for whatever reason, remember, humanity. We’re all subject to it.
Back to Wouldn’t Again:
Jenny was faced with opportunities and experiences to embrace and refuse help. She encountered the consequences of exerting her will, and of being fragile and limited concerning her desires and wishes.
For the past few years, she has settled into a resignation about her life.
Seeing it as largely over, living in a wheelchair, in a care facility, and unable to be the person she once was, she, not surprisingly, is not interested in exploring anything new. I’m not just talking about a new hobby.
Again, I am referring to the concept of getting therapy for herself.
And her refusal to do so is not simply because of her age and health limitations. Her decision, again, largely falls on her steadfast belief she doesn’t need the help, and, therefore, would not benefit from it. Maybe she believes she is “too old,” or it is “too late.”
But, mostly, she doesn’t want to enter into that therapeutic space, because of fear, pride, ego, and discomfort. To a certain degree, she’s content with her discontent. She’d rather exist in her status quo than live in better health and well-being.
I say this because, within her care facility, there are options and offers for her to discuss with a counselor, her issues, and circumstances, including her disordered image and abuse issues. She has refused them, insisting, again, therapy is for “other people,” and she is fine as she is.
Because of this choice Jenny has made for her life, I have had to sever contact with her. For, her refusal to help herself impacts on my ability to lead a healthier life. And since my cancer diagnosis hit my life years ago, “healthy” has become a non-negotiable for me. To waffle on this now could cost me my life, not to mention my sanity and my spirit.
Her disease cannot be my disease.
So, I made the painful decision. Jenny is no longer in my life.
“Do you want to get well…
…or not?”
The question cuts through reasons, excuse, lies, and circumstances.
There will never be a “good time” to deal with our pain and our issues. There will never be the perfect cocoon, the ideal environment. So, with that in mind, what is keeping us from transcending our “wouldn’t?”
The answer: us, you and I making the willful choice, even after life changing circumstances and insights have altered our worlds and our perspectives.
Maybe the wakeup call didn’t wake us up.
Maybe the death or the health issue didn’t get our attention enough to change.
Maybe the loss of a relationship was not a powerful enough motivator to get us to seek help and deal with ourselves already.
Wouldn’t or Couldn’t Within Us:
We can make the choice, to improve, to get healthier, to deal, to heal. We make thousands of choices every single day. We can choose even while powerless in our lives. The choice in those paralyzed moments, is to choose to embrace and accept, not abandon ourselves.
We deserve to not abandon ourselves… ever.
Easier said than applied. It may feel like an impossible, harsh, judgmental standard, asking way too much of us.
Still, we choose, regardless of if we think we’re making a choice.
We choose.
Copyright © 2023 by Sheryle Cruse
“Wouldn’t Versus Couldn’t” addresses will over ability within our life choices. | elephant journal
Translation? Codependency
Cancer has gotten my attention on many things.
But one thing I hadn’t quite counted on confronting was codependency. And, oddly enough, or appropriately enough, I faced mine as I was placed in a position in which I needed to be taken care of in an intense way. There’s nothing like a threat of death, major surgery and life-altering changes to one’s physical body to really get someone to face their own limitations and unflattering codependent nature.
One can argue we all are codependent, to varying degrees. It’s not just about enabling a drug addict or an alcoholic, say, giving them money, a place to crash or bailing them out of jail. Codependency is often more subtle than that.
Again, trusty-dusty Wikipedia gives us its definition…
“Codependency is a behavioral condition in a relationship where one person enables another person's addiction, poor mental health, immaturity, irresponsibility, or under-achievement. Among the core characteristics of codependency is an excessive reliance on other people for approval and a sense of identity. Definitions of codependency vary, but it is generally defined as a subclinical, situational, and/or episodic behavioral condition similar to that of dependent personality disorder. The term is less individually diagnostic and more descriptive of a relationship dynamic...”
Uh-huh.
Human beings are nothing, if not codependent. After all, we’re social creatures, interdependent on working and living together. Each of us has strengths and weaknesses. The “many hands make light work” principle is often trotted out, encouraging unity and getting things done, etcetera…
On and on, creating nothing but codependent behavior for miles!
Yes, we need to be helpful, of service… within reason.
With BALANCE!
And here is where you and I can get tripped up, as our poor self-images, need for purpose and our extreme approval- seeking demand we overextend ourselves, again and again.
It would be ideal if we would and could recognize this, each time we fling ourselves into self-destructive, unrealistic “save the world” patterns.
But often, we are too much in the middle of our self-imposed tornadoes to witness them spinning us out of control. And then, like Dorothy, from “The Wizard of Oz,” we say to our crisis-stricken lives, “Toto, I don’t think we’re in Kansas anymore!”
Cancer has strongly nudged, if not, forced me to examine how I was showing up for others in a codependent fashion.
Maybe you’ll see some of yourself here.
Again, as human beings, it’s hard not to fall into at least a little codependency. Largely, I believe, that’s because it has a lot to do with unrealistic expectations, both others’ and our own. Boundaries can be blurry, if they even exist at all when we traipse into a relationship dynamic with another person.
Codependency can be sneaky and subtle. It is often revealed through what others say to us. Here are just a few of my greatest hits. Enjoy.
“You’re so thoughtful!”
I have heard these words uttered repeatedly throughout my life. It usually follows on the heels of me doing some gift-giving. I love to give gifts; it’s a big way I express love.
However, I’ve needed to adjust my gift-giving, post cancer. I soon discovered, although it was never voiced, certain people expected the gifts to keep rolling in after my diagnosis, while I was in the hospital, getting my surgery and as my energy levels were zapped.
Still, that notorious expectation… People wanted things “back to normal” from me. Yes, they paid lip service, acknowledging my health crisis, saying things like “You take care of yourself.”
Yet, actions do speak louder than words, don’t they?
Eventually, their patience wore thin. I was taking too long to recover. I wasn’t “back to normal.” I was different. And soon, there was the pressure for the gift pipeline to resume. Resentment, and sarcasm were executed as I tried to “explain” why I just was not getting with the program.
And soon, unrealistic expectation reared its ugly head within me. Guilt. Arguments like “I should give them money, flowers, gifts like I did before. It’s not that bad. I can do this. They’re counting on me. I can’t let them down.”
I was saying this stuff as doctors strongly cautioned I “take it easy.” That meant no gift-giving, no excessive thoughtfulness (obsession) with pleasing someone else.
I had to take care of myself. I had to rest. I had to receive gifts and help instead of worrying about dispersing them like Santa at Christmas.
Ho- Ho-Ho. Not as merry, as I battled with expectation.
Translation: Codependency
What should everyone expect in this situation? When does expectation become demand?
Gift-giving/receiving has to do the spirit in which it’s done (the intention from both giver and receiver), the expectation (from both parties) and the sense of self derived from doing so concerning both parties (“Am I loved or worthless, based on the transaction?”)
That last one, especially, just shines a big Klieg light onto the “all-or-nothing” way of thinking. Codependency thrives on that premise. We’re either Savior or Villain. There’s no room in between.
“You’re very conscientious!”
This statement has also been directed at me. It’s not in the realm of gift-giving. Rather, it mostly operates in the context of “acts of service.” I do something for someone. Fairly straightforward, right?
Nope.
Here was usually where I responded to an emergency. The only thing was, it wasn’t a one-time thing. No. I had to repeatedly rescue the individual. This was a pattern.
Yet I was not being conscientious for conscientious’ sake. I was simply envisioning the worst- case scenario… and it was solely up to me to prevent it.
How’s that for ego? How’s that for completely unrealistic, unhealthy and unsafe expectation?
Translation: Codependency
Here’s where I was a participant. In these circumstances, whether they be rife with abuse, manipulation or dysfunction, I was choosing. I think that’s what gets lost in the shuffle for so many of us, even within these circumstances. We are constantly choosing, making thousands of decisions each day about how we will respond to, well, life.
Iyanla Vanzant, a well-known life coach, has a great quote: “You can always make another choice.”
Not surprisingly, we, codependents are not thrilled about that statement. We’d rather believe “there is no other choice” and “I have to do this.”
No, we don’t.
It’s not about shaming anyone who has been through abuse and treacherous situations. When you’re in it, you are in survival. There may not be much luxury to analyze the complexities of the environment as, say, you and I are simply trying to stay alive and sane.
However, if we can grasp onto any notion of power and control that we do have access to, we can tap into that power of “making another choice.” It’s not easy; it’s not instant. It’s ongoing and imperfect.
And it is possible, however, whenever, wherever you and I can accept it. We can make different- and better- choices.
“You have a servant’s heart.”
This one still makes me cringe. I have heard it spoken to me within a volunteer context, where being pleasing and accommodating were held in high regard. And, usually, that means there is some form of worthy cause, implying self-sacrifice and “the greater good.”
In my personal experience, this applies to church. I want to state, church is just one of the many possibilities out there when it comes to being codependent in group settings. I’m not “picking on the church.”
However, yes, indeed, codependency is often encouraged within a church setting. For me, personally, whether I was doing something for a pastor, “the team” or “for the Lord,” it still called into question what was appropriate… and what was not.
It is a sticky question to entertain. Just how DO you and I deal with things when it appears The Almighty is counting on us?
But notice my words; I say “appears,” meaning, is that really what’s going on here? Or is it something else?
Volunteering is a noble, loving, human endeavor. But, if/when you and I add matters of faith to the equation, there can be added pressure and blurred boundaries to the mix.
I received a lot of great insights, camaraderie, and personal discoveries of myself within my church volunteering experiences.
But, undeniably, I also received some toxic messages, encouraging harmful codependent behavior, for “the greater good.”
For me, that meant staying long hours, being sleep deprived, stressing myself out because of unrealistic expectations (from both myself and from church staff), neglecting my husband and my writing, because, after all, “this” (whatever the current task or project of the day was) APPEARED to be that much more important.
“THIS,” after all, included…
Saving lives…
Saving souls…
Feeding the hungry…
And so, I heard the statement, part approval, part warning…
“You have a servant’s heart.”
As long as the pastors were pleased with my performance, as long as I made things flow easier, generated more money, removed burdens, was compliant and cheerful, while being self-sacrificing, I was, indeed, that stellar person with the servant’s heart.
Deviate from those mentioned examples, however, and I risk being the exact opposite? A selfish, unloving, uncaring person?
Can you see the agonizing, double-bind trap to it all?
Translation: Codependency:
We all need to do our part. Yes.
However, spoiler alert, misuses of power and codependency can thrive. And, as we’ve heard of many scandals over the years, church is not immune from those exploitative behaviors.
But, again, this goes beyond the church. Think of any “well-meaning cause.”
“The greater good.”
Think of organizations and groups that have set such high bars of curing humanity’s ills. To make any and all of that happen, even the most well-intentioned group can fall prey to encouraging codependency. There can, without anyone realizing it, emerge the message…
“You need to keep giving and doing at this high level, for the cause, so we can experience the results of it.”
Yet, there is less realization and appreciation to OTHER results which can occur if we try to keep up this impossible pace…
An emotional and mental breakdown…
Depression…
Anxiety…
Addictive behaviors…
Broken marriages and relationships…
Deterioration of one’s physical health…
And, while I was impacted by much of the above listed, what, again, got my attention the most was that last one, via my cancer diagnosis.
Now, to employ church terminology, my “temple,” my “vessel,” was at risk.
Translating Codependency:
I wish I could say that my epiphany was one distinct moment. It wasn’t, even with my diagnosis. Rather, it was a subtle awakening, like slowly coming out of anesthesia.
I think that’s what it can be like for most of us codependents. We often don’t know what we’ve experienced until, perhaps, years- even decades- after the fact.
Hindsight, 20/20 stuff.
But, sooner or later, we come to recognize the dysfunction, the pattern. And, sooner or later, we recognize it’s not working. Our way of dealing with life must change.
People pleasing and being viewed as “nice” can bombard us with guilt and obligation. But we need to look closer at what those connotations are all about.
And, within the framework of codependency, it’s about others’ needs being more important than our own. Each of us needs to recognize our needs, wants and desires are JUST as valid as someone else’s. And sometimes, they take priority over that other person’s situation.
It’s the cliché example of the Oxygen mask on an airline flight. You need to put your own mask on FIRST before you can help anyone else.
And, even if there is no one else around to help, you are worthy enough to pay attention to.
That is the translating we codependents need to be doing.
All by ourselves, without anyone else’s needs or demands, we are worth it.
Copyright © 2023 by Sheryle Cruse
The Pain of Small Talk When You Have Been Abused
Recently, I came across another amusing post online…
“What you do during small talk…
1) Nod and smile
2) Plot your escape”
It brought the infernal reality of this chit-chat to my mind. I hate small talk. I find it awkward, artificial, and uncomfortable.
And, as an abuse survivor, it can throw me into survival mode and tactics that support that survival mode. Often, as I have been engaged in talking about the weather with someone, I can slowly, but surely, feel myself disassociating, leaving my body, traveling to the nearest amusement park, to situate myself in one of those water rides. Why do I do this?
A few of my “abused person” theories…
I view small talk as blissful ignorance of the more important issues.
It’s triggering to me, because of the original dysfunctional systems that damaged me. The systems were notorious for basking in their ignorance, to the detriment of the horrific abuse that was allowed to thrive and persist.
Now add small talk. Call it misinformation, denial, maladaptive coping, whatever, small talk still didn’t address the destructive reality that was not being noticed, corrected, stopped, or healed. In fact, it often re-created and mimicked the abuse I survived. Small talk is easier to deal with than heavy life subject matter is. Chatting about the weather or the lovely event we’re attending places no pressure on fixing anything that could make things riskier, more uncomfortable, and more painful for the status quo. “Isn’t it a sunny day?” is preferred to “Do you need help?”
But let’s get real. The “help” question is often what’s more relevant to us than the weather report. How many of us have been hurting, in agony, wanting someone to ask if we needed help? How many times did someone only respond with something we didn’t need or want, like discussing banal, trivial things which made us feel there was something wrong about us for not wanting to chit-chat about inane topics?
I view small talk as the strategic way to dismiss something more egregious and toxic.
As I was dealing with a past unhealthy relationship, the person I was involved with repeatedly stated, “Change the subject” whenever there was an uncomfortable topic or a confrontational moment. Things needed to be addressed, and this person absolutely refused to do just that. Many times, this individual, as away a deflecting, would start chit-chatting about the latest pop culture scandal or a stranger’s haircut that they admired.
That set the template for my visceral reaction regarding the more important things in life. Not every person intends on creating these unpleasant and uncomfortable flashbacks. Sometimes, yes, it is just about the weather.
As an abuse survivor, however, such small talk encounters seem to be reminiscent of the dismissive attitude towards something/someone that was hurting or violating me. I do my best with the small talk. But I frequently tense up as I am reminded of years of negatived pain that only worsened. It, therefore, is difficult for me to remark about how it’s cooler today than it was yesterday or someone’s cute chin-length bob.
I view small talk as a sneaky way to make the person wrong. (Enhanced by peer pressure).
Minimizing.
Ganging up.
Gaslighting.
Yeah, that’s what I often feel I experience with small talk situations.
And I can almost hear, usually in a sickly- sweet voice, the argument, “You’re being too sensitive.”
And then the rest of the village usually comes to pile on.
The town consensus? Why can’t you just make small talk?
Answer? Because I often feel like this is just a creative way to make me the bad guy, the “too serious” person who just can’t “lighten up.”
Yeah, I can’t lighten up because I feel judged by the person with whom I’m small talking, who is, by the way, currently shaming me for feeling like I’m being minimized, gaslit, shamed, or wrong.
Ah, the vicious circle continues.
Feelings are feelings. No one gets to dictate terms of what is right or wrong for them. No one in a family, the clergy, the school system, authority positions, or of a certain generation or age demographic.
Again, my visceral reaction is not positive about the small talk. I’ve tried to change it, force it to happen. I look like the character, “Templeton” from the animated film version of “Charlotte’s Web” when I do so. It’s not cute.
And it doesn’t feel cute. Probably because I’m going against my authentic true feelings!
And that is often what so many of us abuse survivors have been trained to do!
The sound of my screaming can probably be heard right now if you open your windows.
Go ahead. Open ‘em. I’ll wait.
If you want to engage in small talk, that’s one thing. But to mandate that everyone do likewise, and be giddy about it, is quite another. It’s not everyone’s bag. Some people hate it. Some people get triggered and anxious about it. And making anyone wrong because they don’t “hop to” the banal conversation with the enthusiasm of a lovestruck puppy is insane.
Not all of us are enthusiastic puppies. Some of us flinch.
I guess that’s the consideration I’d like to propose here. Be aware of the flinch then, please.
An Open or a Shut- Up Mouth?
Small talk can be a manipulative way to assert itself as far more important than the more real and brutal things we’ve been through in life. Like abuse.
And, sometimes, it can be weaponized to hurt, belittle, and silence. Keep talking about this, not that. Keep ignoring the bleeding wound by putting the small talk Band-Aid on it.
Am I taking this too personally? Yep.
But that’s the point. As harmless as small talk has been portrayed, it can injure, re-injure, and traumatize those of us already gun shy concerning human interaction and communication.
Part of abuse’s damaging impact is that, often, while we’re being abused, we may be told we actually are not, “it’s not that bad,” image is more important than truth, how we look, versus how we feel is what matters, and even how other things/people/situations are so much more important than the stuff we’re “over-reacting” to now.
And what can better exemplify the depiction of the coveted prettier image, the minimization, and the exalting of “other” over us, perhaps, more than that of small talk?
What is small talk doing? Keeping things light. Keeping things social. Keeping things surface. Keeping things distracted.
Yes, there have been plenty of conversations that have occurred in which there was no harm, no foul. There were no wicked ulterior motives, schemes, or plans that were set in motion. Lots of small talk has occurred without murder and other major felonies being committed.
However, small talk has the potential to make its participants feel unheard, unseen, unvalued, unloved, unimportant. The humanity can often get sacrificed for the sake of “good conversation.”
That tells me why, then, I often cringe in its presence.
Copyright © 2023 by Sheryle Cruse
“Are You Okay?”
When I was deeply grief-stricken over a family member, years ago, I experienced one incident of humane kindness. Like a lot of us out there who encounter grief, I tried to resume my normal daily life. I tried to get on with things. That meant taking the bus to get to where I needed to go. A bus ride. Not all that taxing. Nothing, seemingly, upsetting about it, right?
But I was having a hard time making my life happen. Grief had disrupted it. Already incredibly sleep deprived for weeks, my nerves were jagged. Emotions were heightened. And I could cry easily and intensely out of thin air.
As I was waiting for my bus, I indeed, felt the tears racing to my eyes. I felt the pounding pressure of upset. As I sat on that bus stop’s bench, I dreaded completely losing it as I was out in the open, out in public, with no shelter to hide my raw sadness.
Just then, I hear the whoosh of the bus door opening. I am around, perhaps, a half dozen fellow riders, all inching along, waiting to board the connection. I was on the verge of gushing tears, feeling the pressure of them now. I was going to blow.
As I’m trying to keep it together, some of the fellow riders are jockeying for position, arguing about where, exactly, to sit. It’s agony. I just wanted to sit down and try to stifle my grief with some modicum of privacy. One young man in the group, apparently, noticed my distress. And, with a loving tone in his voice, quietly stated, “Here, you can sit right here. Are you okay?”
Grateful, I nodded, thanked him in a barely audible voice, and sat down. And the rest of the motley passengers were ushered away from me, eventually settling in their own seats. I composed myself as much as I could and went home.
“Are you Okay?”
You and I hear that a lot in daily life. It can cover things like a life-threatening incident, a person struggling with mental health issues, someone we may have inadvertently bumped into or tripped, an accident of some kind, or it can be simply checking on a person who is having a rough time in their lives.
I recently came across this sentiment online:
“Some stranger somewhere still remembers you because you were kind to them when no one else was.”
To me, I had that experiential evidence of the “Are you Okay?” question.
An Antidote to Cruel Life:
Hustle and bustle. Making a buck. Dropping the kids off. Traffic. Life. Cruel life.
Sooner or later, we all encounter its harshness, even with grief, loss, and death interrupting our regularly scheduled programs. Let’s not forget, everyone: a pandemic. Things have taken an even more exaggerated cruelty in life for us. It appears that life neither cares, nor slows down for our personal struggles.
And perhaps, with good reason. After all, concerning life, “it’s nothing personal.”Scripture states, “time and chance happen to us all” (Ecclesiastes 9:11).
With that brutality, then, is it any wonder how kindness, from even a stranger, can register so profoundly for us. It is a kindness reminder. An example of Divinity and humanity, all at the same time. And we are all capable of experiencing it, whether we’re the instigator or the recipient.
Whichever one we are, pick up the cue, the gentle reminder. Kindness need not be on a first-name basis. It often works best, stranger to stranger.
What is not okay right now?
Can you help?
Can you be helped?
What is stopping you from the experience?
Most of us can probably safely say it is a matter of low self-worth. We don’t feel good enough, capable enough, deserving enough. But most of us can tell when something is off, with others or with ourselves. Most of us can pick up on “not right” cues of pain and distress.
And most of us, when in doubt, can ask the “Are you okay?” question of ourselves or others. And then we can apply kindness. It can be quiet, unassuming, and filled with dignity. It’s about response.
And we all need and deserve response.
That young man did not call other people’s attention to my distress on the bus. He asked about my welfare and provided a need I had to sit down and compose myself.
I remember the genuine care from that stranger. He knew nothing of my backstory or my grief. He knew I needed some attention. That’s all.
And that is what keeps me remembering him, almost twenty years later.
Connection:
Grief, estrangement, and major life changes are just a few of the challenges we experience that inform us we are alone. We are disconnected. We have an alone illusion.
“Are you okay?” can then serve to remind us of connection. That really is what we seek, when we pursue love, friendship, success, fame, wealth, or power. Connection. We want to experience the commonality of humanity. The shared burden and awareness that we are not alone; we connect with another person who utters, “Me, too!” And there is a calm peace and reassurance.
What is not okay right now?
What tells you that you are alone?
What would it take to convince you there are people who will love, care, and help you?
“Are you okay?” can be that short, simple question that jerks us out of alone illusion to connection. The bus incident I had years ago broke the forsaken spell I was wallowing in as I was grieving. There’s no wrong way to grieve; wallowing can be a natural part of the process. However, genuine human concern still exists. And we need to remember that.
And yes, I’ sure you have heard about the healing power of helping others to aid in healing ourselves. There is significance to that, yes. However, we need to remember to keep realistic, compassionate expectations if we want to help someone else. We can set ourselves up for devastating failure if we become too ambitious of a savior when we are still bleeding ourselves.
Start small. Find a small way to ask someone, “Are you okay?”
And get help no matter what, no matter if it is for another person or for yourself.
MANY hands make healing and light work. Find and take those hands.
An Inspired Opportunity:
Sooner or later, life teaches us all that it’s a case of when, not if, we encounter someone who needs help. This is, therefore, another opportunity/reminder for Providence. Our Higher Power, God, The Universe, the Big Kahuna often has an “Are you okay?” moment invading our space to teach us that yes, we matter, are loved and valuable, and are not forgotten.
This was, I believe, the case with me, years ago. Again, I was gutted with complicated grief, feeling every bit forsaken, forlorn, and forgotten, left to only drown in my bitter tears.
What is not okay right now?
As I tried, unsuccessfully, to resume my “normal life,” post-grief, everything felt impossible and desolate.
I suppose it’s fitting, then, that this “Are you okay?” incident happened while I was waiting for the bus, after going to church one Sunday morning. I should have felt comforted, in Divine and relational communion, after worshipping with others for an hour. But instead, I felt completely alone, defective, and ashamed that I couldn’t feel more spiritually joyous.
There’s nothing like self-flogging with punishing shame to boost your faith walk, eh?
It was in that precise moment, sitting on the bench at the bus stop, that I would meet my “Are you okay?” Divine intervention. The young man who saw my distress, showed concerned, and asked me that question had no idea I’d just come from church. That didn’t hinder him from his kind gesture. And with that kind gesture, I felt I experienced more of a direct link with my Creator than I had within that church building earlier that morning.
Whether or not we are not okay, or we witness someone else not being okay, we are in a moment for something larger than our mere selves to materialize. We can come up higher, either being uplifted by someone’s kindness and gentle concern, or we can network with the Divine and help others. Either way, it’s about being receptive. Sometimes, healing works at its best in this capacity.
A Stranger Remembers: Are You Okay?
It’s like the line from “It’s a Wonderful Life.”
You know, “Every time a bell rings, an angel gets its wings.” Perhaps, right now, there is someone remembering a kind gesture you and I did for them. Perhaps it is us who are remembering a kindness done to/for us.
“Are you okay?”
No matter what we experience in life, you and I have the possibility of being blessed by this inquiry. The blessing comes, asked as a question, and, ultimately, answered as kind human exchange.
It’s a little thing, but it’s a big thing. As are the most meaningful things in life.
Copyright © 2023 by Sheryle Cruse
“The Miracle of ‘Are You Okay?’” reminds us of the power of human kindness. | elephant journal
See a Need, or Idiot Compassion?
As I have bumped along in life, I have lived by the saying, “See a need; meet a need.”
It sounds kind, sweet, generous, selfless. And maybe it is all of those things… and maybe it something else also.
The equivalent of a “Kick Me sign” bullseye target on the backs of all codependents.
Now, somehow, it elicits an uncomfortable squirm or two, doesn’t it?
Pema Chödrön is an American Buddhist nun who has famously taught on the principle, “idiot compassion.” I happened upon her a few years ago, as I was embarking on the full leg of my intense Narcissistic abuse recovery tour (without the snazzy t-shirts). Had it not been for the onslaught of my abuse, I wouldn’t have discovered her. After all, what did this recovering Lutheran from rural Minnesota have in common with not only a Buddhist nun, but a New Yorker, to boot?
(I can hear my Scandinavian ancestors, crying, “Uff-da).
Anyway, idiot compassion can be regarded as enabling, as giving into an unhealthy person or dynamic, simply because it’s easier to do that than it is to say no, and we cannot bear to see the struggling and the suffering of the situation or the person “going without.”
It is all about short-term pay off instead of delayed gratification or outright refusal of dysfunction.
And, in that light, I started thinking about my phrase, “See a need; meet a need.” Was that just idiotic compassion all along? Was that all there was to it? Not decency? Not love for my fellow man? Not helping? Just me being an idiotic who thinks she’s being helpful, when really, all that is happening is just a chaotic Kumbaya effort on steroids?
Oh, Pema, help a Lutheran codependent OUT here!
Alas, I’m left to wander and sift through my own pasture of perceived needs and discern as to whether or not I should meet them with help… with my help, most specifically.
So, wander I did. I started picking apart what have been some common themes, sparking some necessary questions about their existence in my life.
What is it?
Or, as Shakespeare once said, “Hark, who goes there?”
First thing is first. What is the thing begging for our help? What is the so-called “need?”
Many of us abuse survivors, especially, can get caught up in hypervigilance, seeing danger, threat, and pressing need at every turn. Therefore, we may “hop to” meeting something out there that, according to you, appears to be a need, but maybe is just a want, a request, a question, or a circumstance, needing none of your interaction whatsoever.
My personal case in point?
Recently, I was over at a friend’s home. We were sitting on his couch and his elderly cat was parked on his lap. Out of some Pavlovian habit, I asked if I could get my friend anything, because, you know, he was trapped under his eight- pound cat. Sounds like urgent danger to me.
My friend was not in distress. He was not in danger. There was nothing he needed or wanted. Yet I saw his cat on the lap reality as something that needed tending to, Johnny on the spot.
Never mind the absurdity that I was a guest in his home. He, in the name of hospitality and good manners, would normally be the one inclined to ask me if I needed or wanted anything.
So, for you, what is it? What is the thing set before you?
Did you put it there? Is the need a need?
What does it look like?
The old saying goes, “there is no reality; only perception.”
So, what are we perceiving about a person or a situation?
Are they a doomed, helpless victim? Can they be “shown the light” by us?
We can project and catastrophize a worst-- case scenario onto someone else. Life or death. Dire need.
“See a need; meet a need.”
We see someone in distress, maybe even in peril. Maybe they send us a call for help.
Or maybe we simply volunteer ourselves for their personal rescue. We see a need and try to meet that need. Forget about if someone else is more qualified or better trained. Forget about asking ourselves if we should be doing this in the first place. We swoop in there and determine our intentions and efforts will, indeed, save the day.
Or maybe we do this.
We completely underestimate a situation, failing to heed the red flags. The addiction, the womanizing, the abuse, the theft, aren’t that bad.
We sense something is toxic and unhealthy. Maybe we have taken someone to detox, bailed them out of jail, or been hit by them. But seeing the need, the actual need, for what it is, without flinching, is not something we want to do. It’s too difficult, too painful, too inconvenient to do so.
So, we turn our version of a blind eye and we rationalize that we are helping their need. Maybe we even arrogantly assert that we are the only ones who can help them. We are the superheroes, the undying, unconditional love support person. We can love them into health and healing because, well, we are there on the scene.
Do we see danger?
Or do we simply downplay something that is harmful to us?
The definition of insanity is repeatedly doing the same thing but expecting a different result.
How many times have you encountered this need before?
“A man of great anger must pay the penalty; if you rescue him, you will have to do so again.”
Proverbs 19:19
Scripture’s take on anger issues can also be interchangeable with anything else deemed dangerous and unhealthy. And those are usually the attention-getting things clawing for our intervention.
I have been in friendships in which rent was always, somehow, past due, there was no food in the house, and their marriages were always on the brink of collapse and/or a felony being committed. High stakes, high drama.
And even though tears were the dominant staple in the sob stories I was confronted by, make no mistake, anger was rife throughout each circumstance. As I came to each dysfunctional rescue, Proverbs 19:19’s “man of great anger” soon showed up. It showed up in the underlying fueled causes for various dysfunctions, like unresolved trauma and unmet need. It showed up in white-hot rage that absolutely refused to learn the lesson, get help, make amends.
Indeed, a one-time rescue with such a person, inevitably, resulted in another trek around the mountain (but with no Sherpa to help bear the baggage).
Centuries’ old scripture and Pema’s well-taught idiot compassion seemed to utter (with a heavy sigh) the same perspective:
“Here we go again. Proceed at your own risk.”
Through these dysfunctional relationships, I learned that my best intentions and heart’s desires were no match for a human being’s free will. People choose. People can choose destruction. People can choose destruction and will not be deterred from that choice, even if it means we get harmed in the process.
Yep, swallow that. It’s a pretty spiky pill.
“See a need; meet a need.”
Oh, really, now? How’s that working out? Are you and I broke, with ruined credit, wrecked health, damaged reputations, and tattered marriages?
Are we the ones now in need, all because we tried to meet an idiot compassion situation, presenting itself to us as a need?
As we, perhaps, dare to answer those questions, desperately dreaming that Pema Chödrön will kiss our foreheads and feed us Rocky Road ice cream, we should probably take a pit stop at a few other questions as well:
What has changed?
What has not?
Why is this situation (this same old situation) before us (again)?
Will tending to this need hurt us?
And, if so, why is that acceptable?
Answering these questions can shed light on the deeper truths to who and why we are in the world. What drives us?
Is being a compassionate idiot soothing to us somehow? What is the payoff we’re getting from being this rescuing idiot?
What need do we think we are meeting and/or healing, by trying to rescue someone who does not want to be rescued?
Are we avoiding our own issues and pain? What are those issues? What IS that pain?
Does acting with idiot compassion give us an inflated sense of purpose, meaning, and identity?
Indeed, “See a need; meet a need” is not quite an innocent as it appears. The powerful prospect or even the lure of a “need” may mean way more than it should to us. The “need” can assure us with distraction, obliteration, and a sense of self. It can be a respite to dealing with our own problems. It can feed our Savior complex. It can turn the “bad boy or girl” into a “good boy or girl.” It can be the appropriate punishment we think we deserve.
Yeah. Maybe it’s more like, “See their need; meet our need.”
Eww. Not a flattering portrait, is it?
But it is probably the exact portrait we need to gaze upon.
It comes down to motivation. What is it for us? Why do we insist on helping? Who is that for, exactly?
Why do we insist on being the idiot? Aren’t we all smarter than that?
Copyright © 2023 by Sheryle Cruse
“See a Need, Or Idiot Compassion?” confronts our motivation to help. | elephant journal