cybermule | Daring Greatly

This has been sat on my kitchen table awaiting return to the library for about a week now. I can't remember how I got it, but it was a good book and I got a lot out of it. It's about risk taking and shame. Actually, I do remember how I stumbled on it - my ex pronounced the failure of the relationship because we were neither of us vulnerable, and that caught on me as not necessarily true. I'm sure I have work to do, but I'm also quite good at being vulnerable. In fact, my painful memories in relationships are generally moments of my own vulnerability where I got emotionally trashed.

There's a section in the book on this - these are labelled "sliding door moments", where you notice a loved one has something going on and you either choose to engage with it or carry on with your own absorbing stuff. It's something I've noticed and found hard as a parent - the need to rise above whatever you'd rather be doing and engage with the person in front of you. And it's often very hard if that person is being difficult, or there's something happening that pushes your own buttons. I think I'm imperfect, obviously, but also very aware of the finite opportunities in relationships (especially parenting) and the relative ability to delay other things. I think there's a tightrope to walk between my stuff/your stuff, and I would do good to mind my own stuff a little more. But also be aware that trust is built in moments of attending to other people's things.

There's also something in there for me about ask vs guess culture. As an autistic woman, I think I have become adept at guessing but would prefer asking. Passive aggressive stuff really fucks with my ability to human. Tuts, eye rolls, irritability. I think guessing is good for wants and asking is probably better for needs. But I've had poor experiences with asking, where I've asked if I've done or said something wrong and it's considered offensive that I can't work that out myself.

Something to keep an eye on.

There's also an analogy in the book of trust being like a marble jar that you both fill so that there's something to take back out in times of stress. Which I agree with - in relationships you both need to try and give slightly more than 50% so something gets banked. Going back to my last post, this is why relationships with addicts fail so often. You put all the marbles in the jar, and the addict takes them out. Even when they stop their addiction, the marbles are pretty low and the non-addict tends to have a depleted marble purse.

There's also a distinction drawn between shame and guilt. I've thought about that in my own life, particularly parenting, as a difference between taking responsibility and taking the blame for something. Blame and shame are about the person being bad, and don't lead to good things. If I take responsibility for my actions it can be painful, but I can work upon what has happened. I know B's Dad is very blame orientated, and blame and shame often lead to lashing out and projection. Trying to get someone else to carry the can of bad feelings. Once you realise that carrying the can isn't about you being a bad person, it gets easier. Shame is also linked with addiction in a broad sense of numbing your feelings, and right now I can identify with that. My work here is not feeling like an inadequate person, and the work of that is finding out how to shrug off other people's shame.

It's hard to open yourself up to responsibility for your own actions. I am so very aware of that. But it is somehow...cleaner? And that's the best analogy I can think of - to open the wound and clean it is responsible, to try and hide it or make it someone else's fault will just cause it to fester.