One of my biggest fears when it comes to my relationship, is losing my identity. I’m so afraid if I don’t protect it fiercely, it will be swallowed up by my partner and I’ll be left living a lifetime in a BIG, FAT, SHADOW. I grew up watching my mother sacrifice, and then sacrifice some more, for my father to build his career. I then watched as his respect for her diminished over time and thought that was normal. More recently, I “watch” my father’s wife tout on social media the “hobbies” she loves doing which are essentially my dad’s hobbies. I even watched as she gave away her Shih Tzu and instead bought two dogs that were my father’s favorite breed instead. I remembered thinking HOW is this middle aged woman still doing the exhausting work of being someone she is not to please my father the narcissist? Not only is it annoying when I see grown women stuck in this vicious cycle of partner pleasing but it is infuriating that their partner would want to overshadow the unique soul he is sharing his life with.
I’ve seen it happen first hand to too many women and I’ve been that woman myself. I’ve adopted the hobbies of my exes and did SO MUCH CRAP I DON’T LIKE TO DO, like fishing. I BLOODY HATE FISHING because I feel bad for the fish and it’s the most boring thing I can think of. You toss a line in the water and then feel like a macho man or woman when you reel in a live but injured animal that thought it was getting breakfast and instead got a hook in the mouth?!? Nothing about fishing seems right to me. The laziness with which one catches fish and the prizes the fish are viewed as. If you really want to impress me, jump out of the boat and catch a fish with your bare hands. Now that would be a feat right there! No hook in the mouth, the fish can go free when you’re done, and you got a workout in. Win. Win. Win. In another relationship, I told myself I also liked living in a sanitary bubble and never wanted to get my hands dirty (turns out that wasn’t me either). And in yet another, I told myself I really loved not putting labels on things just existing like a free spirited hippie (also, apparently, totally false).
Watching my parents’ dysfunctional marriage growing up wasn’t confusing, it just was the way it was. I didn’t grow up seeing my father treat my mother with much respect. His career was always what was important, and while she kicked serious butt raising three kids as a stay at home mom, I never once heard him THANK HER for the doing the MOST DIFFICULT JOB of the two. He never once came in the door after work and said, “How can I help with dinner or the kids?” There was an expectation similar to the norm of my grandparents’ era that the house would be clean, the kids would be handled and all the meals would be made by her. I’m sure it didn’t start out this way. I’m sure they marched into love thinking they’d be incredible teammates in life. And THIS is what is so FREAKING SCARY to me. How do relationships break down to the point where one person doesn’t even recognize who he or she is anymore?
The other side of the story I came to resent as a teenager was why my mom didn’t DEMAND respect from my dad. It made me an angry teen. She sighed, sucked it up, let her resentment build and more and more frequently passive aggression would bubble out of her. And like beads on an abacus, instead of sliding to the same side, working together, they just slid to opposite sides. When I became a mouthy teen, I started to pick at my mom for serving my dad like a king. I demanded to know why she didn’t just say, “No I’m not doing that. Dinner is not happening, YOU can cook tonight.” The truth was, she was holding on by a thread and had suppressed her needs, hopes and dreams so far down she didn’t have the words or energy to explain decades of feeling less than to a an unruly teenage girl. I don’t blame her.
So with my only playbook information being what I witnessed in my parent’s marriage, I went off to college naïve and hopeful that maybe I could meet THE ONE. I thought that true love’s kiss would save me or at least distract me from my own dislike of myself at the time. I was hopelessly romantic and all I knew was that my parents met in college. All the stories about college I heard from my parent’s generation was that was where your soulmate could be found. This idea was very enticing for a 17 year old girl dying to get out of Iowa. I had drummed up this fantasy of a sophisticated intellectual college romance ending with a beautiful white wedding which, therefore, equaled eternal happiness. The truth was, when I had my first long term college relationship I had no idea how who I was or what I wanted out of life. I also didn’t think it was okay to express who I thought I was if I wasn’t really sure. So I became a shape shifter and I adopted his life. If he asked me where I wanted to go out to eat I’d always say I didn’t care. I left so many of the decisions up to him. I wanted to please him. I wanted him to love me and I wanted to get married. Man, I was a fool.
After things fell apart, I was completely freaked out by the idea of marriage. If the formula I knew of how to be in a relationship was correct then marriage was just a lifetime of pretending I’m someone else. Was that all it ever could possibly be?!?!? After that relationship ended there were other boyfriends, but as I started developing more of my own adult identity, I didn’t chameleon as much or let it go as far as that college relationship. I knew the things I didn’t want or like from my previous relationships but I was still unable to paint a complete picture of who I was to my partner. So instead, I grew increasingly impatient with my boyfriends. I didn’t want to party as much or I didn’t want to sit at home in the air conditioning all summer if the temperature got above 80 degrees. I started listening to these feels of being constrained or denied who I actually was and as a result those relationships didn’t last as long. Each time I broke free, I understood more about who I was and what I wanted out of life.
I’m most comfortable when things are in progress and I think I’m working towards something. I’m extremely uncomfortable when something really good just plops into my lap out of nowhere. That was Larry. He was this big plop of goodness in my life. To say I panicked would be an understatement. I was befuddled and FREAKED OUT. This kind, respectful, loving man is telling me he likes me… what the hell am I going to do with this information?!? I panicked. What do you do with a really honest person who shows you a lot of respect through their actions and isn’t full of hot air? If you’re like me, and trust issues should be tattooed across your forehead, you test the hell out of him. You look to push buttons, you let him know on the 2nd date exactly who you are, what you want out of life and what you’re not willing to sacrifice to come together as a couple. And yet, he didn’t’ run away…
As our relationship grew, we talked more and more about getting married I had some real fears. Not only were we talking marriage but we were also talking leaving San Diego. I was sure that moving was the first step down the slippery slope towards losing who I had become. So far, I think I’m still me, but who knows? Maybe that will change. I am so afraid Larry will become the boogie man and I will become a wilting flower. I’m so scared I’ll lose who I am that I’ll wake up having lost decades on my life I’ll never get back. We took a big leap of faith in hopes maybe our story will be different than our parents. On my positive days I whole heartedly believe it’s possible. On my days filled with self-doubt, I wonder if it’s inevitable that time and life stressors will wear us down into fragments of the rocks we once were? I had a clear choice: Let this person go from my life out of fear or walk through my fears and follow my gut. After careful over analysis I always came back to he is worth the risk. I had become so protective over myself like if I didn’t watch over who I was like a guard at the base of tower, I’d slip away like a Post It in the wind. I’ll always be hyper vigilant about feeling controlled or beholden to a man. I’m just that way. So far, beginning to trust and let go of my biggest fear has enriched my life. I thought I’d feel helpless and lost. Instead I feel empowered and whole. Sometimes the very thing we want the most (GROWTH) is the thing we are most afraid of. Will I live to regret leaving my life in San Diego? I’m not exactly sure. But so far, I’m pleasantly surprised by the deeper meaning I’ve found in all of my close relationships once I loosened the grip. Will I ever let go of my fear completely? Currently that sounds too SCARY, but my goal is to ultimately be freed from fear as I strive towards my goal one day at a time.