Unconditional love. This is supposed to describe the love we should receive from our families and those who love us just for being born, for being us, for existing. The first time I held my daughter in my arms, I was overwhelmed with the strongest feeling, the largest love, I had/have ever experienced. Here was this tiny person, born of the passion of her father and I. She grew inside me for 9 1/2 months (count 'em), but I had never seen her, held her, known her thoughts, if she cried alot, what her face looked like when she cried. It didn't matter. I loved her totally, completely, overwhelmingly, to the point of tears and subsummation. I did not know her, but I loved her so completely, I would willingly die for her. In conversations with her father, he was consumed with the same feelings (she was an emergency C-section, so he got to hold and meet her first). This is unconditional love. She did nothing, did not have to "earn" my love, but she had it. She was my all. Both my children still are.
But as life goes on, things become complicated, personalities emerge. In some families, love is withheld, or at least approval, until it is earned. I have a dear friend who is coming out of a 20 year long marriage with a man who verbally and emotionally abused her the entirety of her relationship with him. She was verbally and emotionally abused by her father growing up, met her husband to be at 18. I'm not sure she has ever experienced unconditional love. She is attractive in a stunning, sensual way and is completely unaware of it, altho she is learning. When she listened to her husband, didn't argue, didn't present her own opinions, didn't advocate on behalf of their children he also abused, he loved her. Physically, with words, showered her with gifts, he put her on a pedestal. If she asserted herself, expressed her opposing opinion, got mad, it was "you never listen to me, you've always got to argue, why can't you just do what I say? Why have you always got to argue? You're so stupid and controlling!" He shouts, he belittles, he demeans and shames his entire family. On and on...I bet you know, can fill in the blanks, have heard this. For this, my heart bleeds for you and for her. This should not be. This is conditional love. Love that is paid out to you like a salary when you have fulfilled the conditions of the contract you never signed.
It's even worse for one of their sons. Unfortunately, this youngest son has inherited the same explosive temperament and behavior as his father. And, as you can imagine, this places him at loggerheads with his father. This young man with ADD/ADHD, behavioral and mood disorders has a great capacity for love and a great need for love. However, he is very astute in his ability to size you up and pick the one thing that will drive you crazy or hurt you, and he will pick and pick and pick at you till you explode and are undone. And he is very susceptible to this himself. All his classmates know exactly the ONE word or phrase to say to him that will trigger an explosion and derail the teacher's plans for that day. Unfortunately, I've even seen his father do this to him, tease until he triggers and explodes, and he is then punished.
So, this young man is disciplined. Almost everything that he has ever been given by his father is no longer his. Bikes, dirt bikes, all his hunting gear, money, all are now in his father's possession. He was given a gun two years ago, that he has never touched, has never been out of the box, because he was supposed to "earn" this privilege. This past Christmas at his grandmother's house, he became angry and broke a pool cue. His grandmother took back the Christmas money she gave him.
I can't imagine. One of the things that I decided as my children were growing up, was that the things that were theirs, were theirs. If they didn't want to share their toys with their sibling, they didn't have to. I encouraged it, but didn't force it. They quickly learned that the road went both ways, if they wanted to be shared with, they needed to share. I also felt that their rooms were a place of refuge, sanctity, the one place they could control and was entirely theirs. I helped them clean, but never cleaned for them. I resisted the urge to snoop. I never looked for diaries, for pot, for drugs, though the need was never there. Their siblings were not allowed in without permission. I feel strongly, that a child has very little that is under their control. They need to know that their things are theirs, and will not be removed at a whim. That they have a safe place to go that will not be violated by others. If these things are taken away, how do they define themselves? How do they feel safe? How can they know what is around the corner, if nothing is theirs, nothing is under their control? A gift is a gift. It should be given in love, not earned, not taken away because a parent is displeased. And as with gifts, so should love be. Our children should not have to perform to our expectations in order to be shown love. We should start off every day with a show of love and affection to our loved ones, no matter how pissed off we are at them, disgruntled or irritated. I've found if I do this, the affection is reciprocated. It's hard to do. I hold my hurts close. There is one truth that I have learned with all the kids I have worked with, and that can be translated to the adults in our lives, including ourselves. It is when we are most unloveable, that we most need to be loved. Yet, this is when we withhold it. Try it. When you are the most irritated with your child, your lover, your friend, and want to punch them in the face (okay, maybe my violent side is showing through), hug them, kiss them, say a loving word. If it is inherently a healthy relationship, it will be reciprocated.
In Peace and Love,
Kismet
But as life goes on, things become complicated, personalities emerge. In some families, love is withheld, or at least approval, until it is earned. I have a dear friend who is coming out of a 20 year long marriage with a man who verbally and emotionally abused her the entirety of her relationship with him. She was verbally and emotionally abused by her father growing up, met her husband to be at 18. I'm not sure she has ever experienced unconditional love. She is attractive in a stunning, sensual way and is completely unaware of it, altho she is learning. When she listened to her husband, didn't argue, didn't present her own opinions, didn't advocate on behalf of their children he also abused, he loved her. Physically, with words, showered her with gifts, he put her on a pedestal. If she asserted herself, expressed her opposing opinion, got mad, it was "you never listen to me, you've always got to argue, why can't you just do what I say? Why have you always got to argue? You're so stupid and controlling!" He shouts, he belittles, he demeans and shames his entire family. On and on...I bet you know, can fill in the blanks, have heard this. For this, my heart bleeds for you and for her. This should not be. This is conditional love. Love that is paid out to you like a salary when you have fulfilled the conditions of the contract you never signed.
It's even worse for one of their sons. Unfortunately, this youngest son has inherited the same explosive temperament and behavior as his father. And, as you can imagine, this places him at loggerheads with his father. This young man with ADD/ADHD, behavioral and mood disorders has a great capacity for love and a great need for love. However, he is very astute in his ability to size you up and pick the one thing that will drive you crazy or hurt you, and he will pick and pick and pick at you till you explode and are undone. And he is very susceptible to this himself. All his classmates know exactly the ONE word or phrase to say to him that will trigger an explosion and derail the teacher's plans for that day. Unfortunately, I've even seen his father do this to him, tease until he triggers and explodes, and he is then punished.
So, this young man is disciplined. Almost everything that he has ever been given by his father is no longer his. Bikes, dirt bikes, all his hunting gear, money, all are now in his father's possession. He was given a gun two years ago, that he has never touched, has never been out of the box, because he was supposed to "earn" this privilege. This past Christmas at his grandmother's house, he became angry and broke a pool cue. His grandmother took back the Christmas money she gave him.
I can't imagine. One of the things that I decided as my children were growing up, was that the things that were theirs, were theirs. If they didn't want to share their toys with their sibling, they didn't have to. I encouraged it, but didn't force it. They quickly learned that the road went both ways, if they wanted to be shared with, they needed to share. I also felt that their rooms were a place of refuge, sanctity, the one place they could control and was entirely theirs. I helped them clean, but never cleaned for them. I resisted the urge to snoop. I never looked for diaries, for pot, for drugs, though the need was never there. Their siblings were not allowed in without permission. I feel strongly, that a child has very little that is under their control. They need to know that their things are theirs, and will not be removed at a whim. That they have a safe place to go that will not be violated by others. If these things are taken away, how do they define themselves? How do they feel safe? How can they know what is around the corner, if nothing is theirs, nothing is under their control? A gift is a gift. It should be given in love, not earned, not taken away because a parent is displeased. And as with gifts, so should love be. Our children should not have to perform to our expectations in order to be shown love. We should start off every day with a show of love and affection to our loved ones, no matter how pissed off we are at them, disgruntled or irritated. I've found if I do this, the affection is reciprocated. It's hard to do. I hold my hurts close. There is one truth that I have learned with all the kids I have worked with, and that can be translated to the adults in our lives, including ourselves. It is when we are most unloveable, that we most need to be loved. Yet, this is when we withhold it. Try it. When you are the most irritated with your child, your lover, your friend, and want to punch them in the face (okay, maybe my violent side is showing through), hug them, kiss them, say a loving word. If it is inherently a healthy relationship, it will be reciprocated.
In Peace and Love,
Kismet
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