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Sunday, February 8, 2015

Feeling Controlled

Dear Tia,


My father is a very important person in my life. I love him dearly. However, I am starting to question my relationship with him as we aren’t getting along.


When I was in my early teens, he and my mom went on an extended trip. He asked my brother and me if we wanted our grandmother to stay with us, or if we’d prefer a friend of his who was a young, vibrant, fun-loving woman. We chose the fun, of course. Who wouldn’t?


While our parents were away, I had a great time with her, and we bonded.


That fall, I learned that my father was having an affair with the woman who stayed with us. I was shocked. I felt sick about it for a long time. I was in the 10th grade.


Somehow my father and mother stayed together for a few more years. But by the time I was in college my mom had kicked him out (his affair was ongoing) and he ended up living in his truck. He would come to the city where I was in school and take me to fancy restaurants. Then he would drink too much and sleep on my sofa. I liked having his attention, and it was fun, but it also felt weird.


That happened in the early 90s. At my wedding 10 years later, my dad was sobbing because he and my mom had finally settled in court, and he had lost his beloved home. My dad is a sentimental guy, and I felt for him because he was truly distraught. But, on my wedding day? He had to fall apart then? It seemed like even when it was about me, it was still about him.


Fast forward 15 years. I live in the same state as my father and I work for him. He had a nasty breakup with the previously mentioned girlfriend, and is now remarried to a different woman.


My question is this: Why do I keep circling back to my dad?  I’ve been through so much unhappiness with him, so much disappointment and misery. Why am I always compelled to return to him? I work for him, I try to please him, and I find it impossible to say ‘no’ to him. Please help me figure this out.  


Signed,
Feeling Controlled



Dear Feeling,


Dang girl, that is a tough road. You have been through the gauntlet with your dad, and I can reason from your letter that it’s been a test of your patience, your kindness, and your self-preservation. A couple things in your letter really jumped out at me, and I’d like to go through them one at a time.


First, let’s talk about the “fun dinners that were also weird”.


The feeling you mentioned, the weird one, is super important to acknowledge and take seriously. That feeling is a warning siren. When things feel that weird, you are experiencing incongruency. People feel these things like a stone in the gut, as I imagine you know. Such feelings are not to be ignored (although, sadly, they often are). When we override a powerful sensation of incongruence we are practically guaranteed a free ride on the misery train. Sometimes that trip takes just a few hours, but in your case it has been protracted. With your letter, you’re telling me about the years of slow-motion discomfort that you’ve been trying to make sense of, trying to accept as normal, trying to smile through.


Overriding the nagging sensation that something isn’t quite right will land you in an experience of cognitive dissonance. That’s when what you believe is true and what you are seeing as true do not match (imagination or belief vs. what you can see is true and real). In your case, Feeling, the incongruency comes from your thoughts about your dad vs. his actual behavior. I can’t be sure, but I’m pretty sure your dad gives you a constant stream of behaviors to overlook, ignore, or wave off, so you can continue to believe that he’s the awesome papa you want (or that you once had?). Could this be true?


Second, let’s talk about your wedding day, when it “seems like even when it’s about me, it’s still about him”. This was a powerful moment in your life, when the universe was nudging you and inviting you to see a moment of truth. The fact that you mention it in your letter makes me believe you may have know this was a potential turning point.  A dad misbehaving at his daughter’s wedding is nothing new, but your willingness to simply be exasperated about it, and not actually lay down the law to him about your non-negotiable expectation and specific marching orders to keep it together on your big, special day, makes me wonder if you have yet seen and accepted your dad for the fallible, ordinary human he is? He may need you to say, “Stand here, do this, say this, show up for me today or I will stab you in the thigh with my wedding-cake knife”. That last part was to get your attention. I know you would never do that. But thinking such a thing, and allowing the thought to spur you into action, well, that’s my point.


What if you made some demands? What if you stopped being reasonable and accommodating and nice, and got real? I’m not suggesting you punish your dad (although I get that you might want to….) I’m suggesting you begin to behave with deep self-respect. The interesting thing is this: when you begin to behave with self-respect, and put some good old fashioned healthy boundaries in place, and feel the power of “no” or “yes, but with these adjustments” you will find that your dad will be forced to see you in a different light. He will begin to see you as the powerful, clear, kind, and no-bullshit daughter that will sit him down and look him in the eye and ask him to be the best person he can be. And that role-reversal (I did the math, Feeling, so I know you are plenty ready and grown up enough for this turn of events) is often the natural state of affairs for this stage of life. I’m suggesting you tell him what you need from him, in no uncertain terms, and set him up with the details so he can succeed in giving them to you.


My guess is your dad will show up for you. I think he’s playing from an ancient rule book. I bet getting away with such ridiculous behavior doesn’t feel good to him, either. It’s your turn to drive the relationship bus, or at least make a few demanding turns. Not because you are difficult, but because it’s time to allow yourself have a day that is about you, with your dad looking on proud as punch that his girl has a voice she can use, a clarity she has earned, and a sensibility about what she wants and doesn’t want.  


This is about you, Feeling, and your need to know that you can carve out your own spectacular life, and receive your father’s blessing. So far you have lived without it, and you could continue to do that. We know you are tough. Since you wrote the letter, though, I think you want things to be different, and I feel certain they can be if you change a few things.


  1. Learn about boundaries, how to recognize when you need them, and how to put them in place. This will take courage and voice, but you can summon those and do it.
  2. Refuse to override your gut feelings of incongruence. Pay attention when ‘things feel weird’ and make adjustments. Make things how you want them to be. Do not avoid conflict. Say what you need to say.
  3. Look at your dad without the dream of your dad. He is just a person, like everyone else. He is messy and chaotic and makes mistakes. Ask for what you need and forgive him for past nonsense. It is obvious to me that you are kind and generous. Forgiving him will set you free. It’s for you, not him.


I know you can do these things. You are stronger and wiser than you know.


Then, please tell me about it. Because I will be thinking of you, and I want to know how it unfolds.

Sincerely, 

Tia

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