You are NOT feeling...What you are feeling

She had become so jaded.  She had reached 40 years old.  She had achieved her dream of marriage and family.  It seemed like she should be at that place, the happily ever after she had dreamed of, had been striving and working for.  She had the house on the cul-de-sac, the lush back yard, the minivan, summer afternoons at the pool, and church every Sunday.  She loved her children fiercely, rearing them was her focus.  Her spouse, well she had no point of reference on that.  But she knew it was a lot better than whatever she had as a kid, which was a sort of revolving door fathering.  She was being told, and so she figured, that their marriage was a normal one.  Normal challenges.  Normal hurdles. 

Her day to day had turned into survival mode.  Same schedule, same players, same numb routine, but still a level of chaos that she could never calm.  The last three years since the 4^th child had been born; had drawn her into a cavern of hopelessness. Ever searching for what was wrong with HER, what SHE was doing to cause the discord…she had researched post-partum depression and bipolar disorder.  They didn’t quite fit.  She finally settled on anxiety.  That was the closest diagnosis.  She was in a constant state of concern, fear, hypervigilance, and despair. 

Her husband told her, “You AREN’T happy.”  He would explain how he couldn’t possibly be happy if SHE wasn’t happy.  She would pin it right back on him, “But YOU aren’t happy.”  And there was the standoff.  She was responsible for his happiness in life, and she expected him to do the same for her.  Truth was, her years of toil and boundary-less servitude had created a world where her inattention to herself, made it impossible for anyone else to fill her cup.  But at this stage, she didn’t understand that concept.  She had signed up to be a man’s helpmeet.  They had their mother and father roles, but she viewed an equality in the arrangement.

Yet somehow, she found herself married to a man who expected everyone within his sphere to bow to his control.  If she had a concern, she was told, “Don’t worry about that.”  If she expressed sadness, it was “You don’t have anything to complain about.”  If she was in physical pain, suddenly one of his many health issues would crop up.  The message was, “You are not allowed to feel the way you feel.”  Her emotions were not being recognized as important, valid, or even recognizable.  She was too sensitive, too worried, talked too much, too loud, and she asked for too much.  She truly believed that she was not feeling, what she was feeling.  If an emotion stirred in her, she immediately questioned if she really was feeling it or if she should be feeling it.  Her emotions could not be trusted.

She never questioned him. There were many things she knew that she should not ask or talk about.  Don’t ask about his job.  He is working very hard, and he will let her know if there are any opportunities or changes.  His work and travel dictated their lives and schedule, and she should be lucky to be blessed with such abundance.  He went in early every day to work out; don’t ask why he’s not losing weight or making any physical progress in spite of that daily work out.  He made it clear he doesn’t “hang with the boys” after work; how lucky is she?  She doesn’t understand how the business world works, so don’t make suggestions. 

Don’t question any church rules either.  He grew up in this church and that is just the way things are.   She was allowed to pray and feel “inspired” because he trusted her with that.  But he had the final say so. He was the patriarch, the perfect example, the right-doer, and the inspired.  Everyone else’s feelings, emotions, ideas, and needs were negligible.  Their little family will live and do exactly as his parents had since the early 1960s.  And therefore, he knew the way to success and happiness, so don’t question. Any. Of. It. 

No one loved her more than he did.  No one was stronger than they were.  No one had the secrets to success like he did.  In public and in front of their children, he praised and adored her.  He put her on the highest pedestal and in a very obvious and public way, worshipped her.  If flowers were given, it was never in private – but in a big display in front of friends, coworkers, or children.  “Oh, you are so lucky to have a man like that!”  It was that behavior that made her so confused about how he disregarded and ignored her offering of her true self to him in private.  If she asked him for something specific, he would say, “That is not good enough for you, you should have...” and then he’d give her what he liked or thought she should enjoy.  This translated into moments of intimacy as well.  She’d say, “That felt good,” and he’d say, “No I can MAKE you feel even better….”  She knew better than to question any of it. 

So, was he coercing her to do this or was she simply giving him the power?  Or both?

Occasionally she would find a small in inconsistency in his stories.  Of course then, he “didn’t remember it that way” or she was “storing all the details - to use against” him.  If he didn’t remember it, then it didn’t happen.  She started to question her own recollection of things.  She wasn’t supposed to dwell on the details, she didn’t know what was supposed to make her feel good, and she shouldn’t feel what she was feeling.  Working against her natural self was, well confusing and exhausting.

He would say he didn’t want to get her hopes up, or for her to be concerned, and that is why he hadn’t mentioned ________ (the job opportunity, the coworker that went on the trip, that he’d be working late, the medicine he’s taking, the phone call….) to her.  But she would reason with him – shouldn’t she be part of those discussions?  If they might move to a different state or if he has a health issue or job opportunity, should she as his wife, be a part of the conversation?   “Well, I did tell you, just now….” He’d say. Her natural questions, once expressed to him, morphed into intentional darts or attacks.  He defensive and memory failing; then him describing her as calculated, cold, vengeful, and looking for opportunities to ambush him. 

She wasn’t an angel.  She got visibly upset a lot. Her constant state of confusion was, well maddening.  The picture looked perfect, but if you checked the framework closely there were small cracks.  “What do you WANT?” He would ask, and she would snap back…”Turn back time.”  He hadn’t always been like this.  She couldn’t pinpoint when the current behavior started.  But it was her doing to be sure.  She had done or wasn’t doing something that brought on this discord in their lives together.

She openly and outwardly told everyone in her life, she’d learned that life wasn’t about finding happiness but just surviving the day to day.  Isn’t that what they were doing?  He rarely let her talk about the future.  His daily comments to her: Vacations were frivolous and too expensive , the children were so spoiled, she was just supposed to spend less, never talk to him about the children or planning.  And she should just BE HAPPY.

And, that is all it was going to be.  She was 40 years old, but she had made plans, decisions, and covenants at age 21.  Half of her entire life with this man and she wasn’t about to go back on those promises.  She would gloss over the last 19 years.  When had it become, this?   At what point did she mess it up? Her mind couldn’t make sense of it.  He had been her prince charming.  Saved her from a meaningless life of obscurity and sloth, and now she was exalted as a wife and a mother; The most honorable of all callings.  In return for his lifting of her to and trusting her to fulfill these amazing roles in life, all she had to do was – whatever he said, without asking questions.  She really tried not to criticize or question him.  But there had been a backwards evolution the last several years of their lives together that she could not explain.  She needed to understand why this was, well the way it was.  Then, she could fix it.

What was worse, she was watching her children spin in this trap.  It was like they were born in a puppy mill.  Exquisite and trusting, they didn’t know anything different.  But no room to roam, dream, and be free.  Their only future seemed to be this option she had chosen for herself.  The thought of her daughters living all their lives to be where she currently was – made her heart moan in a way she couldn’t bear.   The thought of her sons, being stifled and repressed as she assumed her husband was, scared her for them too.  She had the idea that her children were only learning, what her example was showing them.  This thought frightened her for their future.  Her focus became to just get them out, one by one and off to college to adulthood.  She had made her own bed and would remain chained to it; but she could help them be free.