With that said, what weighs heavy on my heart is just such a relationship with a group of women I initiated two three years ago to meet weekly to share parenting experiences. That group was perhaps more important to most of us than we realized until after it ended. We were diverse in beliefs, personal growth interests but similar socio economic status and similar parenting goals. I think we all, for the most part, believed in connective parenting rather than behaviorism. We had an RN, an environmental activist, a therapist, a teacher, an admin assistant and a psychotherapist. We all add vastly different faiths. I was the first to have two children.
Early on in the group I had an expectation of what I wanted the group to be and blindly thought that is what the group would be because I started it. It did not occur to me, at the time, that I actually did not get to decide, rather the group did. So when the group drifted from a place of deep personal processing on what this right of passage is into motherhood to parenting best-practices to let's have wine and laugh I felt not only deeply rejected and hurt but deeply longing for a place to take my heavy heart and be heard without being told to get over it (yep the same message from my own mom). For a place to have some empathy and holding without the "get over it" kind of impact advice can have on me.
This hurt lurked beneath the surface since our eighth meeting or so - pretty early on. Still pushing forward that my expectations would come to pass, that they could magically read my mind and that what I wanted to for the group was somehow better for everyone anyway I overly risked sharing more deeply than maybe all members wanted. I am learning unequivocally the last year that non everyone wants to do this deep looking that I do or that my clients do but too late. I had shared in the group leaving me feeling utterly exposed and setting the group up to completely drop me - which they did unknowingly by all the advice giving and light hearted banter. In the meantime, inside I went completely mute. I couldn't actually ask the group for what I needed because even I believed what I needed was "crazy". Yeah that theme again. I still, to this day, have no idea if the group would have been able to do deep processing because I never fully and specifically said exactly what I needed because I was terrified.
Of course, in all of this, there were other wounds that were getting played out in the group - other peoples wounds - not my own. My pain blinded me - it swallowed me up in a way that I could not constructively hold space for and even produce the same level of empathy I was so deeply craving. I am a very insightful and deep therapist who is masterful at making order out of chaos or seeing deeper meanings in the subtly but all of this ability completely went off line in this group. I was IN THE TORNADO at this point and had no way to grab hold of the lines they kept tossing in to me. We were all in the tornado. In spite of its imperfection, the group was magical. We could have built an underground bunker together if we only risked being specific about what we each needed, how to do it, and who was going to do what. I did feel a genuine love and I think others did too but we couldn't quite name the under toe that began sucking us into the sea of unconscious enactments - playing out different stuff with different members. I began to witness some of this in myself and others when it began to heat up. We were in the tornado and instead of building shelter we lit a match.
But I was still so hurt by this story I told myself inside which said something like "you need too much. you are too intense. you are crazy. and the fact that these women don't want to be in connection in these deep places proves it." So, you know what I did? I stopped going. Yep, this group of women who threw me a surprise baby shower, who extended themselves to me in the ways that really are so gracious and loving...I gave them my middle finger or threw gasoline on that fire. Some of it was my own struggle with post partem depression and most kept tossing me lines and I would burn them p. Or to say, the youngster in me gave me the middle finger. For many months I have mourned my behavior and self flagellated over it.
Recently, however, it has been brought to my attention that I will often act things out for groups. In classical group dynamics thinking, if the group is feeling something, often it will choose a scapegoated member to act it out for the whole group so something can be made conscious that has been largely unconscious. This was, of course, music to my ears - to not have to hold the crazy bag. I am a responsibility-taking junkie but taking on so much responsibility leaves others at a disadvantage. They don't have to feel their part.
What was I acting out for everyone? I can't know for sure without talking this through with all of them. Perhaps a desire to go deeper but fear about doing that? Fear that if we started truly stating what it is we felt and wanted we would be left? Fear that if individuals that were in conflict stated their truth, their differences would destroy rather than strengthen the group? But week after week I went; having all these feelings, on occasion naming a desire for something but then pulling back because I felt so childish, so vulnerable so ridiculous! I told myself "you just want these women to be your mama. get over it !" Really what was happening was so much more complex than my longing for a mother figure and involved way more of their stuff too.
Finally, after sorting through some of this, I did get to a place where I could put out there what I wanted. I guess the group didn't change fast enough because I felt compelled to leave, I was exhausted at having finally felt the underlying group process but aware we just weren't going to talk about it and that scared the shit out the girl in me. I felt sure about this departure but sure came coupled with doing it in a way that was deeply honoring and slow. See, I am a firm believer in saying goodbye and especially with such a profound group. So I gave the group a month's notice but the announcement came a week sooner than I had wanted because coincidentally, another mother announced her resignation from the group and it made sense I piggy back on her announcement. I stated clearly I wanted to stay til the end of the month, goodbyes being important and all...
But...two members of the group - the two who I had connected most deeply with because of the poor mothering they received, talked over kicking me out of the group earlier. Some miscommunication, some clear communication and the end result was I was left feeling hurt and totally rejected to a degree, frankly, I haven't felt since my very first break-up. You know, like your heart has been yanked out your throat on a meat hook? Yeah that kind. I, of course, didn't let any of my hurt show. Instead, I erupted into a rage I have NEVER unleashed on anyone except my mother one time when I was 17. It was pretty raw, pretty yucky and pretty eye opening for me after I hung up the phone with the woman who initiated the "kick her out" idea. "Wow" I thought, "these people must matter to me more than I was giving credit to.". I was so so hurt at my openness to continue but me experience of not being wanted I just couldn't go back.
Where are we now? It is six months later. I for one, am aware of so much more with the space. I wish, I wish that there could be a shared responsibility taking. I am aware, more than ever, how my expectations blinded me to really seeing who everyone was. There were wounded souls in this group - as wounded as myself with a lot less runway on that healing lift off than I have put in. I wish we could have a skillful repair. Why? Sure, partly because I don't want to hold the blame but I am not holding that any more anyway. Maybe some saving face. But honestly, I miss these dear women. Their connection, regardless of it being inperfect was my lifeline in the midst of the tornado of mothering and if I had it to do over again I would have done a better job holding the little girl inside of me so the group didn't have to and more importantly so I could bear witness to the little girls in each of them that were showing up week after week scared shittless, just like me. (or feeling something of a deeper nature I wasn't aware of).
To them, I say, I honor you, I am sorry for my own and our mis attunements and I forgive you as I hope you will forgive me. But most of all, I want to forgive myself.
God Bless You Fellow Travellers of Inanna's Path.
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