How Conditional Love Destroys Family
Has anyone ever been treated with "tough love" by a family member? I'm sure most of you have. Myself, I have come to believe that this behavior, while may have good intentions is often detrimental to the mental health and stability of the individual.
Take my mother, for instance. She is the single-most sweetest person I have had the pleasure to know. Admittedly, this is partially due to her mental illness, but nevertheless, her quickness to forgive and willingness to sacrifice with a deep concern for others are the parts of my genome that I proudly display on my sleeve.
As a result, whenever I encounter opposition, I tend to try to understand and empathize first, compromise and support next, and forgive and forget, if all else fails. But, recently, this modus operandi has been severely challenged. The more I think about this happening, the more I realize how this is not the first time. In fact, there has been a pattern of this approval-rating behavior in from my maternal family since I was very young. And worse, it not only affects me but everyone else in and around the Felton women.
I have always been the type to have to "learn the hard way", as my late Grandmother would often suggest, usually accompanied with a chuckle, when I told her about the latest catastrophic science experiment. One, in particular, involved a Barbie tea party, using a toy barbeque set and a tiny bottle of Tabasco sauce. The tea didn't taste as it should, of course, but being born in New Mexico, I was not put off by the spice. Rather, I was annoyed that there was so little to go around and it was gone before I had a chance to discover the exact number of drops that were necessary to achieve flavor without too much bite.
My sense of curiosity and perseverance has continued to serve me to this day. Although, as I matured, and through experience, I tend to make fewer mistakes now and know better when to pull myself away from a tough problem to let the ideas and findings percolate. I don't know how many times I have been hit by an "Aha!" moment while doing some unrelated activity, like flying a kite, reading a book or playing a game.
One of the things my Felton family has always valued was education. Which is good, because I happen to love it, as well! Although, due to mitigating circumstances, involving sexual abuse by a Paternal family member (from my father's side), which finally ended when I emancipated myself at age 16. Of course, the Felton matriarch came to the rescue, purchasing a futon, at first, and several months later, after speaking openly of the many years of sexual abuse, was shipped back to live with my Grandmother. So, needless to say, once I graduated High School (which was a feat of its own), I was NOT ready for college full time. I was ready to work, to serve, to mentor. So, naturally, I signed up for work-study at the Paradise Valley Community College computer lab, helping all walks of life operate the complicated machinery. And I was a natural, troubleshooting the printer queue and network in one moment, and reminiscing with an elderly re-entry student about how there didn't use to be mice for computers, in his day. I was not, however, as interested in writing long essays on English literature or arguing about the merits of Sine vs Cosine in solving Polar Equations with my Calculus instructor. So, to say the least, my attendance lapsed and I found myself working various sales and support positions until, at age 23, I finally broke down and got "that stupid piece of paper" and enrolled in Collins College, a now-defunct technical/art college, and 3 years later, walked out with a BS in Networking Technology.
Before graduation day, I had landed a "sweet gig" working in the Education industry as an internal Technical Support Analyst for Universal Technical Institute, Inc and quickly worked my way over to the Software Development shop. My "helium hand" got me far and fast in the corporate world. But, sometimes, fast is too fast, and I found myself out on my heels right before a big promotion into the Quality Assurance group. This loss hit me hard. Why? They had convinced me early on in the relationship that I was a member of their corporate FAMILY...
The word, FAMILY, holds a deep meaning in my heart. I do not impose it lightly. I have discarded genetic family that I did not consider deserved the title in the past and am not afraid to do so, to this day. Equally, I am cautious to add anyone to this list. Although I freely admit, in search of acceptance and love, I fell into several romantic relationships in my young adult years, where my vision was shrouded. In fact, after abruptly leaving a serious relationship in the mid-2000's, largely due to his addiction to fetish forums, favoring the admiration of a new piece of virtual meat to the ready-and-waiting familiarity of yours truly, I acquiesced to the apparent curse of the Felton women, to never know true love and found a way to be happy with that.
Being alone, older, and, thankfully, childless, was still challenging, to say the least. A life of consistent trauma and loss finally caught up with me, manifesting itself in the form of persistent Panic Attacks, leading to a diagnosis of Generalized Anxiety Disorder and subsequent medication. At this time, I was still working with UTI, the automotive educator, being still in favor and alignment with the office politics, I was encouraged to take a leave of absence, which I took advantage of and consequently named Operation Recuperation and wrote several blog entries about:
Even though I struggled, at the young age of 29, I was happy to be alone, with the idea of being single for the rest of my life. Plus, I had plenty of friends and social circles to laugh and cry with. As a member of the SCA (An international volunteer medieval re-enactment organization), I often found myself at backyard barbeques and campouts one weekend and Gaming Parties with my Alumni buddies the next. Being an accomplished woman in STEM, I had no shortage of suitors. Still, to this day, my marital status is inquired and I have become adept at quelling the oncoming crush, utilizing various methods that seek not only to accept to flattery but make clear my lack of availability.
In April of 2009, my perceptions and assumptions surrounding love, passion, and career were changed, to say the least. A match-maker friend of mine called me up one evening, after work, while I was contemplating a jaunt to the local used bookstore. She asked if I was into "Younger overweight guys", which made me chuckle, but could understand based on the previous man I was with being older and petite. I decided to allow her this pleasure, and with Thor's Myspace pictures plastered in my mind, drove down to meet up with him. Not interested in a relationship, but not minding a roll in the hay, I found him pleasantly intellectual, yet not presumably so. Striking me as gentle and shy, underneath an animated sheath, I felt allowed to be myself and easily attracted to the beast.
I took him home that night, spent the next week easily enjoying his company, deciding that it would make sense to take a break, reconnect with other friends and family, testing to see how we each felt about continuing to see each other. See, neither of us intended to get into a relationship. Thor had come off a heartbreak within the last year and had, decided himself, as well, that he was better off not having one. We had agreed to part for two weeks but found after only one, that we couldn't stand the silence any longer and by the end of the month, found ourselves moved into together in a new apartment, in Mesa, near his lovely mother, Patty.
It has been almost 9 years since meeting and falling in love with Thor, but it feels like it has been dramatically more. It has not all been butterflies and rainbows, to say the least. Rather, the financial and emotional struggles we have experienced, have time and again, proven to me that we are strong, we are resilient and we can survive the Apocalypse together. His strengths and weaknesses match so strangely perfect with mine, that we have often found ourselves clashing with each other, pinging off each other's fears and frustration. But, through all the tears and turmoil, we come to an understanding, empathize, and find a way to help each other overcome and break through to a more meaningful existence. In addition, we allow and encourage social interaction outside of ourselves. Because no matter how much we love or hate each other, we love and hate the world, too.
It is on this last matter, that I feel most proud of when it comes to gauging the success of our relationship. We are often observed by people, upon seeing our interaction, that we sound like an old couple, but still in love. And when asked how we came to be, I often come back to the thought that we demand brutal honesty from each other. No matter the issue, no matter how much it might hurt to hear, we need to, we have to because if we don't, it will only build up and create animosity between us.
This brings me to the recent Happening...
A couple of weeks ago, my Auntie Joanne, after hearing of our more recent challenges, messaged me to ask to have a private conversation with her. Upon clarification, she meant without Thor in the room. Out of respect for her wishes, I waited until I had a free morning when Thor was otherwise occupied and grabbed a quiet room at the local library.
Before pinging her that I was available, I had already started to develop some anxiety surrounding the purpose of the meeting. Was someone sick, dying? Were they simply worried about me? Right out of the gate, I was hammered with a statement that still rings in my head. Last night, the reverberation of its effect was so loud that Thor woke to a midnight crying session. Come to find out, in the span of a single paragraph, my whole Felton family, not just Auntie Joanne, wanted me to know that if I ever decided to leave Thor, they had plenty of money and would help me to start over. Ummm...
Wha? Start Over? Let me think, I have started over, with and without Thor more times than I have fingers, maybe even toes. Regardless of that fact, why would I do that? So, I naturally, I asked why they would only help if I was without Thor? And tiptoeing and diving around the questions, the only response I got was something incredulous like "adult decisions have adult consequences". Near the end of the conversation, after I attempted to acquaint her with how Thor has been a positive influence on my life, helping me deal with my Anxiety without medication (which, its use along with the Depo birth control shots, had been a contributing factor towards a life-threatening Deep Vein Thrombosis event). And only after I explained that I prefer the peace brought on by the nomadic life, did she relent to the simple core of worry, wanting to make sure that I was safe and happy. After assuring her that my life was in no danger and that I was happier than I have ever been, she still could not directly answer my question about their opinion of Thor.
So, I can only imagine, and I have, the fears and Anxiety about the opinions of the Fucking Felton Matriarchy.... about MY LIFE, MY HUSBAND, MY CHOICES....
All I have to say is: HOW DARE YOU! All of you, are abused and alone! I pity you! To say the least, I am disappointed to have come from your stock. These are the parts of my genome that I DO NOT SUBSCRIBE TO. This and previous statement about your "OPINIONS" feel like poison in my heart and I am feeling the urge to pull out the thorn, never to let it's sweet fragrance tempt me again.
I don't pretend to know all the secrets to love an happiness, but I will continue to attempt to transcribe some of them here on my blog. In the meantime, tell me what you think. Is blood thicker than Conditional Love? If so, why should it be?
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