I’m not being so emo on purpose—it’s just the way I am!
Yesterday I wrote about not being a victim by stepping into a new way of thinking. After further conversation with myself this morning during a meditation, I was reminded how resistant I myself was to this idea. I mean, who wants to admit that what happens to them might be due to something they are doing or thinking or being rather than charge it to someone else?
It’s like using someone else’s credit card. Sure, you’ve purchased the item, so now it’s yours, but who really did the deed?
Here’s what happened when my husband—many, many years ago (yes, while he was still in physical form, i.e., alive)—and I were having a—well, I’ll call it a discussion to be polite—knock-down-drag-out miserable-with-crying moment.
There’s a lot to unwrap here, so stay with me.
The whole thing started with Randy sharing something going on, something I’d apparently done, that was making him upset. At first I was sympathetic. I didn’t like seeing him upset or unhappy, and, being the empathetic, caring, HSP that I am, I expressed support and love and kindness.
At least that’s how I like to think it went. I guess Randy didn’t see it that way.
His take on it was that, after about a minute of “I’m sorry you feel that way,” I’d immediately launched into the “but” thing. You know.
- “I’m sorry you feel that way, but….”
- “But…it really wasn’t that big a deal….”
- “…I really didn’t mean it that way so you shouldn’t take it that way….”
- “…I can’t hear you when you raise your voice to me….” and
- “I don’t really care about how you feel because what really matters is that I defend myself against whatever accusations you’re making so that I turn the whole conversation around until you feel sorry for me.”
The defensive mode
My husband went on to say that playing the victim was not a viable option. That being in a relationship meant if one of the partners had an issue, the other one was to listen appropriately without jumping in to defend.
It was the first time in my life that I realized how that was exactly what I’d been doing. As soon as someone was triggered by something I’d said or done and told me about it, the only option I saw was to jump into defensive mode. To defend why I’d said it or done it or felt it or could excuse it.
He was right. And, honestly, it was mortifying.
There I was, crying my heart out, believing with all my heart, based on all the psychological baggage I’d brought with me into the marriage, that if my husband was unhappy it was all my fault, that I’d never fix it, and that he’d probably end up leaving me.
Um…yeah. So of course I’d get all defensive. What other choice was there?
The upshot
What happened? I got really, really quiet for a while. I realized I really didn’t know how to listen to “criticism” or “feedback” or whatever you want to call it without defending myself from what I thought the words meant or implied. They’d meant bad things were going to happen when I was a kid, so why wouldn’t bad things happen now?
From then on, my first question to myself when something came between us to work on was, “Am I listening or busy thinking of all the ways I’ll defend myself?” And I have never looked at potentially challenging conversations the same way again.
Before I end, I don’t want to leave you thinking that my husband’s insistence that something I did had “triggered him” was altogether in the clear relative to victimization either. Neither of us understood at the time that how we react and respond is our responsibility and no one else’s. While maliciousness is never excusable, if something occurs with good intention, isn’t it better to reflect on one’s own role first rather than leap into blaming the other?
In conclusion, whether we’re HSP, highly sensitive, or not, only we are responsible for ourselves, our triggers, and our responses.
