The Language of Pain

I have never been able to figure out why perfectly good and reasonable things people say about God, the Bible, and Christianity hurt me. There are all kinds of phrases, snatches of verses, and similar things that trigger negativity in me.

That's because the language of Evangelicalism is the language of my childhood.

It's the language of my pain.

Everyone gets hurt as a child by things adults do not understand. Those things--words, images, even dreams, color our view of reality for the rest of our lives.

We'll always feel hurt when we hear phrases that trigger our personal pain.

Unfortunately, mine come from the Bible. No wonder I squirm in church (and feel guilty for it!).

Mommy Issues

"When we got married, I wanted a partnership where we could work together, but you have been constantly fighting to be in control. You use all kinds of weapons to control me."

That's kind of how I feel. Except he was the one who said it. In counseling. To me.

"I don't think I really do that."

"Yes you f***ing do!"

These words still sting, even though I now I am firmly convinced it is not me he is angry with.

It's his mother.

And not the real, kind, strong, wise woman I know, but a frightening amplification of her. The version that a two-year-old might see. I saw it today when she was determined that my two-year-old would give her a hug, and wouldn't let him go play til he did. There wasn't anything inherently wrong with the interaction, but it is easy to imagine how, when repeated over and over, that might erode a child's sense of autonomy. Especially an exquisitely sensitive child. Like my husband.

I was drawn to that sensitive child in him. I longed to give him the unconditional love I thought he needed to help him be the impressive man that I also saw. But the child has taken over. He cannot receive love from me because he sees a controlling gesture when I move a can he placed in the garbage to the recycling bin. He hears a domineering woman when I tell him which dishes need to be hand washed.

He must discover and put to rest the monster-mother in his brain. I fear for his actual mother, when he turns his wrath from me to her as this begins to dawn on him. But she is a strong adult capable of handling it. And eventually, he will learn to separate her too from his demons.

His Great Pain

Tonight's "date" of marital counseling and dinner left me feeling more affection and compassion for my husband than I have all month. However, I still had to ask him to leave after putting the kids to bed because I needed space to grieve.

What came out in counseling was powerful. Tears filled his eyes as he expressed his "need" for the kind of feelings in sex that seeing large breasts gives him. (Don't laugh! I have made light of this, but can't now that I've seen his tears.) He wants that feeling in sex with me, and has not found it. Apparently he did find it with the prostitute, but it was worth little without the emotional connection he has with me. Right now he feels hopeless ever to have both. He sees faithfulness to me as a death sentence to any hope of the fulfillment of his "need." And he still wants to be with me! I've never received a better compliment, twisted though it is.

Of course, I don't think this "need" is exactly rational. Our therapist hinted that it probably stems from my husband's own body image struggles. It adds up: he has long felt insecure about his skinny body, so of course he obsesses over an aspect of me he feels is too small. And since he feels like an inherently incomplete person, he can't really have much respect for any other person who loves him deeply. Anyone who wants him must be inherently incomplete too.

Boundaries

Why didn't anyone tell me that I can say things like this?:
"If you talk to me that way I will go spend the night at my friend's house."
"If you look at porn you will not be sleeping with me."

In my case, following my parents' excellent example of a healthy marriage went terribly wrong. My parents were loving and giving to each other, putting each other's needs first. But it takes two to have a relationship like that. One person doing it becomes a slave!

My father made it a point to teach my brothers to treat women with respect. Both parents taught me and my sister to only date men who would respect our physical and emotional boundaries. But no one told me I was responsible to see that I was treated with respect after marriage. My husband seemed like the kind of man who would. He was raised to respect women too.

Maybe pornography warped his view of women.

Or maybe I did, by letting him control me.

Either way, it ends here.

Mournful Celebration

We had our anniversary this week. It was the saddest yet, but also the first time in a long while he's given me presents. An expensive piece of jewelry, not something I had been interested in until recently, made a big impression. He's showing me he values me. He was sweet, kind, and continually resolute in wanting to change for me.

And yet being with him wears me out. I'm still caught in a swirl of anger, greif, and hope, and don't really want him to see any of it.