"Mommy, why do you like Voldemort from Harry Potter?" My young son randomly asked.
"Uh, I don't like that character much. Why?"
"Because Daddy has the picture of Voldemort as your picture when your number comes up on his phone."
I was not prepared for these kinds of situations.
I was raised in what I would call, a picture perfect family. Seriously. I had (and still have) amazing and brilliant parents. My dad is a highly-respected therapist and my mom has a doctorate in adult learning and was a teacher and college professor for decades. Someone told me recently that I am a "fluffy kitten who grew up in a therapy bubble." It made me laugh, but it's true. I had an almost perfect childhood.
However, I was shy as a child. Painfully shy sometimes. I didn't always know how to respond to conflict at school with friends. And although I was raised to be a pacifist, to "turn the other cheek," I was confused about what to do when someone was mean. Especially as 5th grade rolled around. Usually I avoided the conflict and left the situation, resulting in tears at night when complaining about the "mean girls" at school.
I learned from my parents about growth and development. I learned about Piaget and Maslow before I was in middle school. I learned about addiction and dysfunctional family issues from stories my parents would tell. I only knew ONE PERSON who was divorced. I learned that helping others and being an example of peace and kindness was so needed in this world. I just knew I would not have the same problems that others seemed to have.
When I left home and went to college (2,000 miles away from my family), I met a boy who seemed like a lost puppy. He was kind, charming, and super smart. He came from a rough home life and didn't have a great relationship with either of his parents.
I could save him, I thought! This stray puppy dog needs me.
It turns out, the stray puppy was very wounded inside. Somewhere in his childhood, there was trauma, and from that point on, emotional maturation ceased. There was a viciousness, a manipulation that confused me. I married him anyway. And then I realized it was actually a lion inside that puppy costume.
Why did I feel like I was walking on egg shells every time he came home?
Why did he become angry with ME when I was attempting to tell HIM things I was upset about?
Why was I doing all of the parenting?
Why would he seem so friendly in public, but also be so incredibly unkind to me when others weren't around?
It was confusing. And painful. I thought it was me. I thought I was the problem.
And to this day, I still am in his eyes. I am Voldemort. I am the vixen, the villain, the evil antagonist in his life's story. But unlike Voldemort, my name will be heard. And I will teach my kids that conflict should not be avoided. It is necessary to be advocates for ourselves.
More is caught than taught. My children are watching.
(Thanks to my mom for the caught/taught quote. She's pretty freaking smart.)
"Uh, I don't like that character much. Why?"
"Because Daddy has the picture of Voldemort as your picture when your number comes up on his phone."
I was not prepared for these kinds of situations.
I was raised in what I would call, a picture perfect family. Seriously. I had (and still have) amazing and brilliant parents. My dad is a highly-respected therapist and my mom has a doctorate in adult learning and was a teacher and college professor for decades. Someone told me recently that I am a "fluffy kitten who grew up in a therapy bubble." It made me laugh, but it's true. I had an almost perfect childhood.
However, I was shy as a child. Painfully shy sometimes. I didn't always know how to respond to conflict at school with friends. And although I was raised to be a pacifist, to "turn the other cheek," I was confused about what to do when someone was mean. Especially as 5th grade rolled around. Usually I avoided the conflict and left the situation, resulting in tears at night when complaining about the "mean girls" at school.
I learned from my parents about growth and development. I learned about Piaget and Maslow before I was in middle school. I learned about addiction and dysfunctional family issues from stories my parents would tell. I only knew ONE PERSON who was divorced. I learned that helping others and being an example of peace and kindness was so needed in this world. I just knew I would not have the same problems that others seemed to have.
When I left home and went to college (2,000 miles away from my family), I met a boy who seemed like a lost puppy. He was kind, charming, and super smart. He came from a rough home life and didn't have a great relationship with either of his parents.
I could save him, I thought! This stray puppy dog needs me.
It turns out, the stray puppy was very wounded inside. Somewhere in his childhood, there was trauma, and from that point on, emotional maturation ceased. There was a viciousness, a manipulation that confused me. I married him anyway. And then I realized it was actually a lion inside that puppy costume.
Why did I feel like I was walking on egg shells every time he came home?
Why did he become angry with ME when I was attempting to tell HIM things I was upset about?
Why was I doing all of the parenting?
Why would he seem so friendly in public, but also be so incredibly unkind to me when others weren't around?
It was confusing. And painful. I thought it was me. I thought I was the problem.
And to this day, I still am in his eyes. I am Voldemort. I am the vixen, the villain, the evil antagonist in his life's story. But unlike Voldemort, my name will be heard. And I will teach my kids that conflict should not be avoided. It is necessary to be advocates for ourselves.
More is caught than taught. My children are watching.
(Thanks to my mom for the caught/taught quote. She's pretty freaking smart.)
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