“The search for a scapegoat is the easiest of all hunting expeditions.”
― Dwight D. Eisenhower
My parents told us, my sister, brother and I, that they were getting a divorce when I was eleven years old. My world immediately fell apart. It transpired that my father had decided to leave my mother for another woman, the latest of many apparently. He later professed that it was my mother’s fault. He said that she was lazy and that he found her boring. My mother on the other hand, told us that he was a bad man, a philanderer and that he was not to be trusted.
On reflection, they had both been right.
The effect their unhappy marriage and subsequent divorce had on my life and health was immense. It took considerable time and effort to recover from the breakup of my family and the ripples expanded into what seemed like eternity. It turns out, for me at least, that there was to be a happy ending. A real love story.
I always knew I wanted to be married and to have a family of my own. I dreamed of a secure and peaceful home filled with love and kindness. I was determined to do better than my parents. I decided that a sensible way of going about achieving this was to do the opposite of what they had done. Work hard, take care of each other, take care of yourself, and don’t do anything that threatens the relationship. This is, of course, easier said than done when you are a damaged and unloved kid married to someone with an equally troubling past.
Over the years my husband and I, through trial and error, have adopted many healthy ways of relating to one another. But one of the fundamental first shifts occurred for me when I recognised that I needed to stop focusing on what was wrong with my husband and start focusing on what was wrong with me. Yikes!
If blaming everyone else for what’s wrong with you was a sport, then my parents were elite professionals. As a child I never had the good fortune of witnessing grownups possessed with the humility to take responsibility for dysfunctional aspects of their character or behaviours. In my family attack and defence was the name of the game.
“Placing blame in marriage is like saying, ‘Your side of the boat is sinking.'”
Hank Smith
But if Russ and I were to survive, we were going to have to start carefully considering what to do about our individual traumas and dysfunctions. For me, the beginning of this journey was in bringing awareness to how often I ruminated about what a disappointing husband he was. I lost days to a dreadful, low level upset about his apparent faults and flaws. I often berated him with insults and complaints about how he was letting me down. It is embarrassing to admit that in retrospect, but it is true. I would not dream of treating him or anyone else in that way now.
I brought clarity to the fact that my pain, which although formidable, was not his fault. It had its roots in my childhood, and it was for me to process and heal from if we were to stand a chance as a family. A journey of authentic suffering and healing began. A homecoming. A return to my own soul and to the little girl that nobody seemed to notice had been abandoned, including by me.
I addressed my poor relationship with food and the hatred I had for my body. I started to ride a bike and hike in the hills. I let go of my father; he had hurt me enough. I embraced my role as mother and my identity as a woman and I healed. I fell back in love with the masculine and with life and I found balance.
Intimate relationships bring out relational dynamics from our pasts that can cause us considerable anguish. It can be all too easy to blame our partners for feelings they may have triggered, but that they are ultimately not responsible for. If we are to overcome such issues, we need to take a courageous look at the origins of these feelings, and develop ways of managing them so that we may find greater harmony in our intimate relationships.
In my work with couples, it is common to see each person attributing the cause of their unhappiness to their partner. One partner will insist they would be happy if only the other would just sort themselves out and become a better person. Part of my work involves helping the couple to consider what they each might be bringing to the relationship that is causing harm. He might need to honestly acknowledge his tendency to avoid conflict and withdraw when things get uncomfortable. He might benefit from considering that this could be because he was brought up by a family that never talked about feelings. She might need to learn not to criticise or sulk when she feels uncared for and to recognise that some of these feelings might have been caused by her relationship with her father who was often unavailable.
Ultimately, we need to develop positive feelings towards our partners, which is difficult if our complaints about them are not balanced by some real awareness of our own shortcomings.
It is highly encouraging and motivating to see our partners turn their attention to their own flaws. Perhaps they start saying sorry more often or learn how to deescalate fights with kindness or humour. Imagine they addressed their unhealthy relationship with their parents, quit a job that had made them miserable for years or started becoming more open and positive about sex after reading a book that challenged some of their beliefs.
These are the kinds of changes that keep relationships interesting, fulfilling, and healthy.
Ultimately growing up requires that we each take increasing responsibility for who we are, the good, the bad and the ugly. You might be surprised how freeing this introspective shift can be. Commit to considering that as sure as you are that things would be better if your partner sorted themselves out, the same might just be true if you did the same.
