Self Trust

When you've been through something difficult and come out the other side it's perfectly reasonable and right to think of yourself as a Survivor. You made it.

What should you do now? In a way, it's a rhetorical question. Being a survivor, you most probably rescued yourself. If you learned how to rescue yourself, you've not only learned a lot about yourself and what led you into a dangerous or toxic situation in the first place, but you have discovered that you need to look after yourself. That is to say, you have learned that loving yourself, protecting yourself and putting yourself first is vital.

If you're on this page at all you're probably identifying in some way with a submissive stance, or someone who appreciates the submissive stance. What do Submissives tend to do; to think of the other? And, what do submissives crave, to be loved?

If you are brave enough to rescue yourself, finally, you are brave enough to recognize that you don't need someone else to tell you you are lovable. You can tell yourself, prove to yourself, that you are lovable.

It's such an odd notion for so many of us, to put ourselves first, but it can be done. Think about what you like to do. Give yourself permission to do a few of those things each day.

Watch your mood rise.

As you tend to your own self care your sense of self esteem/self love will escalate. As your self love escalates boundaries will seem normal and reasonable. There is much you still want to give to others because that's who you are, but there are limits. No-one can break your sense of self worth again. Those days of being manipulated are over.

As  you begin to operate in the world, open but aware, self trust will be the order of the day.

Confident of your worth and what you have to offer you manifest good things and the Universe will give back.

Reciprocity

Whether we listen to them or not, our instincts are operating. That little voice inside our heads that notes when something isn't right is talking to us, but sometimes we simply are not listening. Or else we are listening but then our mind kicks in and develops a rationale as to why we're wrong.

When we notice a definite pattern about our lives it makes sense to pay attention. So, if my pattern is that I allowed situations that weren't fair throughout my life, that didn't have at their core reciprocity, what was going on there?

I think this is where our observations about life - through the eyes of the little person we once were - instruct our older selves.

My parents loved each other and they loved us, their children, but there was nothing reciprocal about our parents' marriage, or any aspect of family life. Life rotated around Dad; what was important to him; what he wanted at any particular moment; whether he wanted us in his orbit or not. He made his feelings clear but I don't recall any conversations that hinged around how I  felt. It was tough to make a connection because there were only a few topics of conversation that really stirred him - football, cricket, horse racing, his business.

Luckily, I enjoyed horse racing so sometimes we'd go together. It gave us something to do and to talk about. But, he wasn't a fan of  things relating to education really and so we had no connection there. I don't recall talking to him about school at all. He wasn't interested in my love for ballet and piano, or for reading either. He didn't even feign interest, and I suppose there is a level of integrity about that. He was always authentically himself.

The reality is that I seemed to come out of nowhere, completely unlike my brother and my Mum and Dad. It was very disorienting actually. I sometimes did wonder if I wasn't some sort of mistake; what other explanation was there for this disparity?

When I met my husband and he was almost immediately moody and argumentative, ready to blame me for any little mistake - a little voice said to me, 'That's weird. You hardly know this guy and he's already acting moody and blaming you for things that make no sense.' But at the same time it wasn't all that weird, not from where I'd come; from where we'd given space to my Dad to be as moody and as difficult as he cared to be. No-one called him on that behavior and of course in my little girl way, I noted that and made the only assessment I could; that that was normal.

It's said that when you allow narcissistic behavior in your life it probably means that your self esteem is low, and it was. Of course, it was. I had parents who loved me but I didn't have parents who hugged me, or who had made a full effort to attach to me such that I felt secure. It stands to reason I was insecure. I was quite a pretty little girl,  nothing was awful about me, and I achieved pretty well if you leave sport out of the equation, but still, very lacking in self esteem. It's true.

Perhaps because I wasn't well attached to my parents, securely attached that is, wasn't sure that they - my Dad especially - wanted me around, I think I felt the same way about the boys I met. I wasn't sure that I was even interesting, or had something to offer. I was full of self doubt about my value.

They say that people like this - like me - haven't figured out what they like, or want, or need. I had some idea but it's true that I hadn't given the matter all that much thought. I wanted an education. I wanted to get close to one particular boy and for us to do lots of things together. Ideally I wanted an outgoing boy. I anticipated I'd be a teacher.

In the course of the marriage, it soon became clear that what my husband wanted to do, at any particular time, and how he wanted to do it, would be the way that things would go. I fought this because it didn't take into account what I needed and wanted often, but he got his way. I'd say the problem issues related to aesthetics in the main. I'd want to do some improvement to our house but he struggled to cooperate which I discovered was mainly related to his perfectionism.

Over time, doing things his way became the norm. I picked up the slack, since he didn't want to do mundane, housework type things, for example. He knew what he wanted to do and he wanted the freedom to do those things. And, for harmony, that's the way it went, and the way it still goes.

His voice got stronger and his insistence that he do things his way meant that a silence drew around us. I stopped asking for what I wanted, stopped trying to get the message across that what mattered to me years ago still mattered to me now, and always would. It really, really mattered. But, the message - delivered loudly, quietly, or silently - could not be heard. It wasn't what he wanted, and so it didn't happen. I continue to wait for what I want. If you asked him he would have all kinds of explanations for this, but at the end of the day, he chose different things. He had other priorities.

I see what happened now, not just in the marriage, but in relation to all men with whom I have been close in my life; well, save for David who is long dead now, who was such a gentleman, a substitute Dad for me. All the men I have known have been attracted to me because of my disposition; my willingness to be what they wanted me to be; to partake in a relationship of whatever sort where I didn't expect too much, and where reciprocity wasn't an expectation.

Understanding it all now, I ask myself what sort of man/relationship I'd love to have in my life, if I ever had another chance, another life, or my husband agreed to meet me in this life and share it with me with a sense of reciprocity.

Oh gosh! Of course, I'd love to have a man who cherished me; who wanted me to be my best self; who listened to me and was deeply curious about my inner life. I'd love a man who laughed, and who wanted to show me special places; and who hugged me and kissed me often. I'd love a man who pulled me into his side on the couch; who wanted lots of sex in lots of different ways, and who couldn't wait to come home to me. He'd want to show me to all his friends and we'd go for drives in the country on Sundays and find a dear little restaurant to have lunch and a glass of wine.

We'd have a house where all the repairs were taken care of. We'd not hoard anything but live minimally. It wouldn't be about possessions but it would be about living comfortably in a well maintained environment.

He'd want to give to others. I'd go on doing volunteer work in schools but he'd have a more overarching view about giving. He'd have a few special interest groups of which he'd give his time and funds.

We'd have a life together. I'd cherish him, adore him, and pray to God every night that we'd have one more day in this heaven on Earth beside one another. That kind of happiness, oh dear, wouldn't it be rich!

Building a Successful Life

In terms of a power exchange relationship people talk of the arrangement sometimes as an energy exchange. Different people have different things to say. I've heard and read of it as an exchange of two different types of personality, 'She loves to give and I love to take, so it works for both of us.'

I've thought of it as an ideal combining of two different types of people; one who enjoys taking the lead and one who is happy to be led. Not that nearly anyone wants to be led in all ways and at all times, but rather the relationship can express the synchronicity of the coupling and then details can be adjusted as required.

The lovely things to be said about an energy exchange between such people all imply that the relationship is undertaken with intelligence, with intention and with respect. There needs to be some consistency, acknowledgement of strengths and weaknesses, together with an awareness that life challenges will interfere with smooth sailing at times. It needs to be real.

A psychologist is likely to be concerned about power relationships if they get the sense that the relationship looks more like an Empath being taken advantage of by a Narcissist. Empaths can become what is known as pathological givers. They tend to feel that if they give to the Other what he or she needs, they will be loved and be given what they need automatically. The narcissist doesn't necessarily feel this way or indeed follow that sort of thinking.

This is probably what separates a power exchange that is healthy from one that is unhealthy. If both people have their needs met, who can argue with that? But, if one person has permanently unmet needs, that's not a good thing.

People whose needs are not met would do well to explain themselves, but there is no guarantee that this will sort the matter out. There may be an uptick in reciprocity but chances are only average that there will be a permanent change in mindset. It is the rare person, and particularly so if they have a demanding or set disposition, that can change themselves to suit another person.

The empath/submissive can be so frustrated that she might rage but ultimately he or she must accept the reality of being locked into a relationship that lacks reciprocity; where the Other is unable to feel his or her pain.

Putting aside this relationship for a moment and considering all relationships in our lives, what is a wise way to think about them as a whole? Some friendships are deeper - and smoother - than others, but as we age we come to see that all friendships and all relationships have an internal mechanism.

As much as we might like to get to know someone more intimately, or to feel closer to a friend, or to wish that the waitress in the Diner who brings us our chicken salad sandwich would crack a smile, there is only so much we can do to change these circumstances.

I believe that there are ways we can influence relationships. Speaking to someone with a respectful tone when explaining what you want them to do makes the exchange more friendly as a rule. If someone begins to shout staying calm can help them to settle. We can do what we know to do. But, we can't change people's intentions or motivations or personality.

In the same way we can talk to someone with whom we exchange energy in a power exchange, but it doesn't guarantee change. It depends on their drivers - their level of distraction, their understanding of what is important in their minds; what they want. This is a relationship no different to any other really except for the fact that it could be a parasitic relationship, and that's dangerous.

Some relationships are very stressful. When someone is on the alert for the changes of mood of someone, walking on eggshells, looking out for red flags, that's very stressful. Apart from the psychological pain that ensues, the body is subject to chronic inflammation. An empath's energetic field can be so open he or she can neglect the body.

It's clear that it's no small amount of work to solve these issues when an empath or submissive has found herself in the orbit of a  Narcissist who is ambivalent. Certainly this post can't solve this complex problem except that I would like to offer three suggestions that could, in time, give such a person the strength they need to assess the situation with clarity; to make positive change.

1) A meditative practice, being the witness to your own mind, teaches you to think with clarity and awareness that will stand you in good stead for the rest of your life.

2) Resilience is not something that we either have or don't have. You can teach yourself to go without and in doing so attain a sense of empowerment. Going without something, perhaps sugar or salt or tv for a time is a good start in this practice. As you learn that you can indeed go without you will see with clarity and discrimination what to say 'no' to, and what to say 'yes' to.

3) Develop patience. 'I can wait.' This will give you strength.

We are all made up of strengths and weaknesses and we can be grateful for both. A focus on the weaknesses is a learning prompt and encourages compassion. It is all experience. Nothing is lost.

Authentic self

In a series of days - 90 days in fact -  that roll on for me like a man in the desert hanging on to hope that over the next hill there will be an oasis -  there was this one reprieve. My husband acted like an owner.

It probably wasn't longer than 30 minutes - maybe significantly shorter - but I was aware for every minute of that particular day, which was spent mostly alone and mostly doing menial tasks, that I was light, untroubled, bright, buoyant, happy.

I knew it was just a little thing, not likely to lead to anything else, or to be repeated any time soon. Still, I enjoyed every last drop of the glass of water that had been given to me and the journey that day was smooth. I put one foot in front of the other with a light heart.

I knew that I was still likely to remain alone in the desert for considerable time to come, maybe for a very, very long time. I stayed in the Now, neither worrying about what happened yesterday nor wondering about how to deal with tomorrow. 

This is my authentic self.

Acknowledging needs

It was a pleasant day yesterday, a walk and brunch with friends to celebrate one of the girl's birthdays, followed by a walk to one of the girl's houses, since she insisted I borrow a particular book. From there, I had intended to jump on the train, but the sun had come out, finally, and I was no longer cold. I decided to walk home.

It was quite a long walk. I thoroughly enjoyed it and one of the few thoughts I had whilst walking, that I can remember, is the question, 'Why hadn't I thought to take more long walks like this?'

By the time I got home, acknowledgement of my weariness began to sink in. After cleaning the kitchen I got into bed and I must have slept solidly for about two hours. Got up, got dressed, made dinner, fed one son and myself and out the door again to do a little shopping with him for his oncoming birthday.

On return home, I took in that my husband, home late and in his study, hadn't helped himself to the food I had left for him, and for another son who would return home very late.

So very weary, I just didn't have the energy to be that perfect little hostess tonight. I washed the dishes and informed my husband that there was food for him ready to eat, just to warm it up.

I had a bath. I went to sleep. I slept solidly for over 8 hours.

This morning, whilst I was still asleep, my husband made overtones out of the blue, something he does sometimes, for reasons I can't quite identify. It is as if something about his world, how he feels, isn't quite right, and this attention that he seeks, to give or to receive, is an attempt to quiet a feeling he has. He was giving me attention, and yet, I felt, instinctively, that this was him quietening his own uncomfortable feelings. It is as if, by giving me attention I'll give him attention back and things will be put back to right; whatever he is feeling will be relieved.

We do, of course, all need attention. We all need to be comforted. But, let's be truthful here, he gets the lion's share of attention. I listen to him. I feed him. I do the things he wants to do, in the way he wants them done, when he wants them done. I make it possible for him to do what he believes he needs to do, in the way he believes he needs to do them by being the support person in his life - attending to the children, the house, the food, the washing and ironing, the changing of the sheets, the cleaning of the bathroom, the one who organizes vacations and social occasions. I acknowledge his world view of everything, whether I believe it or nor, because that is what he wants.

And if he is so busy that I need to be wholly independent, I become that person. I make zero demands at the same time as I continue to be that support person - the listener, the cook, the cleaner, the organizer. I don't ever leave my family to their own devices. They know they can depend on me to have things organized and sorted, even when I am away.

As time has gone by, and most particularly this year as I have been asked to be an independent person nearly the entire time, I have noticed something. I have come to question the reasons behind someone who has distanced themselves from me quite suddenly becoming close again for a time. Are they trying to quieten some sort of discomfort within themselves?

There's the push and the pull, and either when it is too close or too far, there needs to be force in the opposite direction. It is as if they cannot be too close, or too far, before they need to turn away or towards me. It is as if I am necessary, but when they sense the necessary nature of me in their lives, they take fright and pull away, only to repeat the cycle.

When I had a night off last night, effectively choosing not to begrudgingly motor on through exhaustion, but rather choosing to do something for myself, to rest, this wasn't about anyone else but me. I was nurturing myself. But, somehow, I think, this was interpreted to be about the other, about how this made him feel.

We become used to things. We can become used to watching out for the other - their moods, their emotions, their ups and downs and the ever-present possibility that their negative feelings will be emoted in a toxic manner. We sort of 'pooper scoop' to ensure that the other is comfortable enough with the world, and with us, that this doesn't happen.  It becomes all about them and how they feel. In other words, we stop even being aware of our own needs. Everything becomes about the other, until the other notices some sort of little difference in the service and feels the need to make that right, but for us, or for them?

This is the instinctive feeling I got this morning; that I wasn't being given a little attention because I felt low. I hadn't done or said anything to suggest that I felt low. My behavior in going to sleep, not serving dinner at well past 9 pm, identified that I was tired, nothing more than that. So, if this was happening  under the banner of him wanting to feel better, or to coral me into being that person he relied on, willing and wanting to give service,  I wasn't ready to be that person. I was sleeping. I was looking after my own needs, as I had been asked to do for the lion's share of the most recent past.

I quite naturally take to the role of looking after people. Whether this is my authentic self or an adaption to my circumstances, I don't know. I know that a few night's ago my son who doesn't have a washing machine right now came around with his laundry before an overseas trip and I wanted very much to do this for him, because it's just part of the love I feel for  him. I want to help him, especially when he is so frantically busy, especially when he cares for me with such tenderness.

I want to be in a relationship, to have relationships, that truly meet my needs as well as the other. This is a fact that I have a tendency to ignore.

Moments of happiness

As you develop a closer relationship with yourself - being aware of emotional states coming and going - you will begin to see that there are moments of happiness, possibly dispersed among periods of less desirable states - feelings of being overwhelmed, anxious, lonely; bored. When people ask you how you are politeness and a sense of appearing 'pulled together' may have you answering 'Fine' when in fact over the course of the commute to work, as an example, all sorts of troubling thoughts have drifted in and out of your mind. Why is your son so unwilling to do his homework and where are you going to find the money for a new car? We all have these thoughts.

Nearly three months ago now we took a vacation in Bali, my first time there. It was a special vacation since the fares there were a gift from my children. From the moment I set eyes on the place, and especially when I set eyes on the villa I had rented for us, I loved everything about Bali. It's hard not to enjoy yourself on such a vacation but even so I was aware at first of some not so perfect thoughts coming and going. My husband had been particularly obsessive and perfectionist - preoccupied over the past several months - and we had to get to know one another again in a more intimate way.

As one day turned into another, I noticed that nearly all thought, to the extent this is possible, had drifted away. I felt not the slightest bit of pain or tension in my body. I was floating through the days in a state of pure bliss. I took to wearing the $9 floaty long dresses I bought there - colorful patterns - with a pair of sandals, and a pair of panties underneath, that's it. Life was blessedly simple and I loved every minute of it.

A couple of moments stand out as being ones of total and complete happiness. My husband was busy doing something inside the villa when I decided to use the communal pool, about three steps from our front door. We had our own infinity pool inside the compound, but the communal pool, empty, spoke to me. Ever so quietly I breast stroked up and down the pool and as I did so I followed my fingers making the strokes, watching my hands closely as they returned to make straight lines in front of me. I was surrounded by greenery wherever I looked and the thought occurred to me that there was nothing more than this. This was bliss. I wondered if I had found heaven.

On another occasion we were on the motorbike my husband had rented. At first I was nervous. The traffic appears chaotic to the untrained eye. However, I quickly learned to settle. Vehicles drive fairly slowly by Western standards and everyone is so polite and accepting. At one point we were at an intersection and the thought does occur - how are we all going to work this out? I think my husband looked a small truck driver in the eye, like - Can I go? - and he nodded as if to say, 'Yeah, no worries, you go'. Off my husband went and on the back I put up my hand as if to say, 'Thanks'. He laughed. 'Crazy Aussies', he thought.

It was a happy moment, but not the one I particularly remember. The moment I particularly remember is when I was quite simply aware of being right behind my husband on the bike and holding onto him around the waist, the two of us off on an adventure, him leading and me holding on for the ride. I felt...love. I felt...complete. I felt I had arrived home.

The ten days quickly came to an end. The Bali we saw and experienced may well quickly come to an end too. Villas are sprouting up everywhere beside the rice paddies of Ubud to the point there may soon not be enough land for the people to grow the crops that have fed the people of Bali until now. I hope and pray this does not happen but greed may devour this beautiful place.

My life with my husband is all or nothing. Either he is worrying himself to an early death about something or other - obsessively and compulsively devoting his thoughts to one - or two or three - projects that consume his time and thoughts - or he is completely relaxed, such as he was in Bali. To this end I know there is always hope of other blissful states.

Yet, I have to get through - from one preoccupation and project - to the next time when he can relax; when he can decide it is time to 'let go'. This is, and has been for some time, my mission.

Impulsivity

Yesterday morning I sent my husband an article that I thought it would be useful for him to read. It talked about a symptom of ADHD - impulsivity - and offered some strategies a person could use to help with that tendency.

For example, some people blurt out what they think in a business meeting for fear of forgetting the thought when they do get a chance to air their views. If such a person were to jot down the thought this would prevent the feeling of desperation to get out the thought at an inappropriate time. Hilary Clinton did this several times in her debates with Donald Trump.

In the case of a personal conversation a person might note that his or her hand is clenched as a clue to take a few deep breaths rather than talk over someone or go into a monologue, rather than to remain a conversationalist.

Last evening, there was a brief discussion about health. I think my husband mentioned a particular vitamin that he was out of, or something related to a vitamin or mineral. I assured him that I wasn't discounting what he said but that lifestyle issues were an important part of aging in a healthy way. So, the idea is to get yourself into a situation where anxiety is easily managed - eat well, exercise most days, enjoy your life and keep your body motoring along in a consistent and gentle way.

He debunked the importance of lifestyle, as he always does. That's okay. We have differing views on the matter. But, he did raise an important point. Lots of people have lots of anxiety in the form of responsibility and it doesn't do them any harm, as far as we can tell.

Of course, I happen to think that my husband's anxiety has done him a lot of harm but again that relates to the lifestyle choice of carrying his anxiety with him nearly 24/7 for a very long time. He doesn't have a healthy lifestyle balance. Anyway, I can't do much about that at this time and it's not the point of the journal entry.

It got me thinking about anxiety - the kind of anxiety that makes you feel stressed, miserable, under the gun, tired and worried - and it's a very inward thinking, non-relating sort of thing. When overly stressed it's a rare person that is sexually aroused. Stress closes down the desire for life that is abundantly available when stress is low and a person is well rested on a daily basis.

When someone is stressed they tend to not behave as well as they might,  perhaps demanding that their beliefs and ideas are most important and require all the air space; indeed,  snuffing any other ideas out. The ideal situation goes that we need to act and think sympathetically towards such people. It is, after all, some sort of anxiety showing up in a dysfunctional communication style. We are asked to walk in the other person's shoes and see into their insides. Ah, yes, the rudeness relates to anxiety!

Yet, it actually doesn't work that way after a time. Rather, the tendency becomes to realize that it is better to disengage from this dysfunctional conversation (monologue) and to keep your opinions to yourself.

When you keep your opinions to yourself, you keep yourself to yourself and in this way there is no relate-ion-ship. You remain alone, in essence protecting the relationship from combustion; rather, keeping the relationship on hold until, and if, behavior improves.

To be aware of a tendency to be impulsive and to learn the strategies that enable you to have control of any impulsivity is not only a gift to yourself but to all the other people in your life. Impulsivity drowns those people around you until one day you realize that all the people around you have their heads under the water.