“Godammit Scott, I Could Just Kill You!”
My Mom growled these words at me for the first time when I was about five years old. Unfortunately, it wasn’t a one-time thing. I have tried to brush away those words for 50 years–rationalizing that she didn’t really want to kill me–that she was just super angry at me, and that I was a very challenging kid to manage. But just this week I realized, through someone else’s relayed experience, that no–I didn’t feel like my life was being threatened–what I felt was…worthless.
Yeah but…
You were a rotten kid.
Blah, blah, blah, Mommy didn’t treat me right.
All my problems started with Mommy.
I blame my Mom for…
You’re 56 now–grow up, take responsibility for yourself…
Yeah, yeah, yeah–we all have a sob story…
Don’t get mired in too much new age, therapeutic bullshit.
Stop the navel-gazing–it’s selfish and obsessive.
Toughen up–suck it up.
Be a man.
I guess that’s pretty much the “Toxic Masculinity Top Ten List.” Thoughts like this have come and gone in my head over the years, varying in intensity–but ultimately forming a solid bedrock of negativity and lack of compassion for myself. In a way I was continuing the job that my Mom started so many years ago–I was perpetuating a feeling of worthlessness.
Would I say the same thing to my own son? Wow–what a great guage for how fucked up something really is. No, I absolutely would not. Saying those words to a child is absolutely, under any conditions, not ok.
Ok, but now what? Isn’t this just “crying over spilt milk?” Oops–there I go again–that phrase can be added to the top ten, or eleven list. What I’ve found, for myself, is that exploring these things are essential for me to identify ways that I’ve perpetuated these dynamics over time. I can see that I have entered into relationships with women that were, unfortunately, very much like my Mom on their worst days. When I have heard words that echo the loaded sentiment that my mother’s words evoke, it has taken me back to the same feeling of worthlessness.
Today, I am not willing to stay in relationships where words like that are spoken. Pure and simple–hard boundary. No wiggle room. I recently have been doing meditations created by Anita Moornani. She has one where you envision going back in time to an incident when someone really hurt you. I always go back to “Godammit Scott, I could just kill you!” This is how I knew that this incident was very important for me, and that it needed some work. It has been far-reaching in its negative impact on my life. In the meditation, you picture the person in front of you, and you practice compassion for what led the person to act in this way–ultimately envisioning hugging them and forgiving them. It’s been hard to do. But, what came into my vision is that before the hug, I had to say, “Mom, that was not ok.” And much to my surprise, she said, “I know.”
There is not a pretty little bow I can tie on this story. Three are still wide-ranging effects that this experience has had on me–not the least of which is the ability and willingness to be vulnerable. But I’m trying. I’m identifying patterns, recognizing behaviors, and creating a blueprint for a future way of being.
And, perhaps most importantly, I am breaking the chain–and not saying those same words to my own kids. I am committed to learning, more and more, how to love unconditionally. And that starts with learning to love myself unconditionally, and hold the space for recovery from the powerful patterns of the past.
Editor’s Note: As my Coffee Talks partner read this article, he remarked: “I liked the article, but you talked about breaking the chains, and not talking like that to your kids. Shouldn’t you also not talk like that to yourself?” Gulp. Yeah–I can be ruthless with myself–not getting the best grades, struggling with getting older, expecting perfection from myself. Thank you, my friend, for reminding me that this is an ongoing journey.
Until next time
Scott