The Sociopath Next Door

For those who wonder how I spend my free time, let me tell you: I've been re-reading The Sociopath Next Door by Martha Stout, PhD.

Sociopaths are the stock players of popular fiction. They're the monsters that heroines played by women like Jodie Foster or Ashley Judd have to face down with steely determination, grit and an extremely large weapon. And nice shoes.

In real life, the deal with sociopaths is this: they have no sense of obligation to anyone, and act without the restraints of conscience. They are solo operators at heart -- lone wolves -- and only use connection with others as a tool to get what they want. And what they want is the thrill of power, manipulation and domination.

Often charming and glib, sociopaths know how to play whatever role they need to play to get what they want. Many can cry crocodile tears on cue, but it's all superficial, an act. There's just no there there. No depth of character. Everything they do is calculated to deliver the goods, and just like our pal Niccolo Machiavelli -- the ends utterly justify the means. If someone gets hurt in the process, too bad. The sociopath has no conscience, so carries no guilt or remorse for his actions.

The DSM-IV, the diagnostic manual for mental health professionals, terms sociopathy "Anti-Social Personality Disorder" and says it's present when a person has at least three of seven characteristics: 1) failure to conform to social norms; 2) deceitfulness, manipulativeness; 3) impulsivity, failure to plan ahead; 4) irritability, aggressiveness; 5) reckless disregard for the safety of self or others; 6) consistent irresponsibility; and, 7) lack of remorse after having hurt, mistreated, or stolen something from another person.

We picture oversized characters like Ted Bundy, Jeffrey Dahmer or Hannibal Lecter when we think about sociopaths, but some sociopaths are actually quite passive. For instance, a man with Anti-Social Personality Disorder might feel he has no obligation to work, so he finds a parade of willing, susceptible people who support him. These sociopaths never do anything, never pay their bills, and never feel guilt for having sponged off someone who loved them.

The key indicator of sociopathy, according to Dr. Stout, is the pity play. This is where the sociopath gets us to feel sorry for him -- it's the guy who beats his wife, then tearfully holds his head in his hands while the bleeding wife comforts him. As Dr. Stout says, "...when these sentiments are wrested out of us by the undeserving, by people whose behavior is consistently antisocial, this is a sure sign that something is wrong."

The sociopath can be the bully at work. Or the guy who sponges off his wife. Or the neighborhood Mrs. Kravitz, who stirs up trouble. The common element? They have no real remorse over their hurtful actions. None. Zippo.

Dr. Stout spends much of her last chapter talking about the nexus between spirituality, community and conscience. Cultures whose spiritual traditions stress the interrelatedness between people and animals and the environment -- the connection between all things -- have less incidence of sociopathy. Cultures which stress individualism and foster isolation tend to have more sociopaths.

Dr. Stout and other researchers estimate that 4% of our population are sociopaths. Friends, that's more than have anorexia or colon cancer. So, it's likely that the most vexing people in your life, as in mine, might just lack a conscience.

If you are facing a situation with another person that where you feel manipulated, controlled, used -- in your marriage, your divorce, your neighborhood, your work, your larger family -- you may want to consider whether the person in question is really among the 96% of people with conscience... or one of the 4% without. And if he's a sociopath, my friend, let distance grow in that relationship. Quickly.

How It's Going To Be

There's a fine line between being a dreamer and being a dictator.

Because when you are attached to a specific outcome, your single-minded drive toward your goal may make you blind to the feelings and needs of others.

Let's say you are in a new relationship. You have peeked ahead, and see what you don't currently have: children, a happy home and no financial worries, with that darling white picket fence. And you are deeply in love with the happy vision you've concocted. It's nice that a man came along to be inserted into the picture!

When (not if) something comes up which precludes you getting what you want-- it's going to take time and energy to finalize his divorce from his wife -- you become a petulant Veruca Salt, stamping her foot and saying, "Divorce her NOW!" Because you need what you want. You've assigned so much meaning to what you "need" that you're blinded you to the reality of who your boyfriend is and any feelings he might have around the end of his marriage. From your perspective, his divorce is just something standing in the way of your dreams.

Wait a sec. If every good marriage is based on a deep caring and friendship with the other person, does pressing your dream outcome allow you to be the kind of friend and partner your boyfriend needs? Could you be destroying the very opportunity you desire by being so doggedly determined to get what you want?

Let's say you want to change your life by starting your own business. You do the research, create a sound business plan, find a good opportunity, hire a lawyer and accountant, and draw up the legal papers. All good. You go so far as to envision what your first steps will be, how the place will feel, what each day will be like. OK, you're fine. Visualization is an excellent tool to direct you toward a positive outcome. But if you're so in love with the idea of you as the owner of a particular business in a particular location that you can't see the shortcomings, pitfalls and weaknesses of your plan, you may end up overruling your advisers and taking a deal that's not really in your best interest. Because you made up your mind about how it's going to be, and that's what it's going to be.

Let's say you're running for President of the United States and you are so focused on winning that you can't see that you're behind in delegates, behind in the popular vote, behind in fundraising and have rising negative opinion polls. By golly, you've made up your mind that you are going to be President and that blind ambition propels you toward an outcome that's growing more and more elusive. You stop listening to naysayers, surround yourself with "yes" people, and irreparably damage your public image with your frantic pursuit of your goal.

Honey, to reduce your stress and anxiety you've got to hold on loosely to your intended outcome. Loose enough to be able to grab on to an unexpected outcome that's even better than what you had in mind. You can do this when you form your intention, visualize your dream and then say:

"This or something better."

"This or something better" vs. "This is how it's going to be" is being fluid vs. being rigid. It's being present right here, right now, aware of the truth in this moment vs. being somewhere else, focused on what's not yet happened -- may not happen -- and totally unaware of the truth.

It's having arms wide open to serendipity vs. arms crossed against the chest with much foot stamping frustration.

Imagine lovingly whittling a hunk of wood into two parts -- a square peg and a round hole. You can spend your lifetime attempting to insert the square peg you've created into the round hole you love, but how to get it to fit?

You really only have two options: reduce the size of the square until it fits into the hole, or craft a new, larger square hole.

When you detach from your outcome, it's as if you've suddenly found a million unexpected holes in which the peg easily fits. When you have a good plan, and execute it to the best of your ability, and are then open to whatever happens, you will be amazed by the beautiful, happy, unexpected opportunities that present themselves.

What Is Love?

Nothing like a pop song to get to the heart of the matter. "What Is Love? (Baby Don't Hurt Me!)" may not have been the top of the charts, but it had a good beat and you could dance to it.

Is that what love is, though? Love is just not getting hurt? Certainly that's an implicit understanding in relationships -- but don't we also sing along with the equally catchy pop song with the chorus: "You only hurt the one you love"?

Many of you know that I am a big fan of the work of theologian Henri Nouwen. Recently I was reading his book Reaching Out. In it, Nouwen defines love as creating a safe place for another person to be fully themselves. What a thought! In this context, love is a gift you give with no promise of anything in return. And, no expectation of how a person must change to "win" your love. You remain an individual in a relationship, merely giving space to another individual in the same relationship.

Nouwen's idea becomes very clear to me when I think about the love between a parent and a child. If my job as a loving parent is to make a safe place for my child to be fully herself, then I have to hear her opinions, tolerate both her purple hair and her messy room if that's how my child expresses herself. This week.

In terms of romantic relationships, too, Nouwen's definition has heft. To truly love someone, it's imperative to let them be themselves. Not to ask them to change to meet your particular needs or your etched-in-stone expectations. If you have banked on marrying a guy with a fat wallet, are you really loving when you try to turn a poet into a corporate attorney? Or when you try to make a quiet, shy child into class president? Is that love?

If someone is destructive, reckless, negative or otherwise hurtful, the safest place for you might be to give the person an awful lot of room to be fully himself. Remember, our life's mission is not to change or save someone -- if their choices are destructive to us, we can lovingly step back and give them space.

In the seminal book The Art of Loving, psychologist Erich Fromm suggests that we are motivated by the anxiety caused by our inherent separateness as individualized human beings. Of course, this relates to our relationships with our mothers, as do most psychological theories. But don't get me started on that. And how mothers are systematically eliminated from nearly all Disney films. That's a whole other topic...

Back to the point. If our quest, as Fromm puts it, is to achieve union as a remedy to our anxious feelings of separateness, how do we find love as meaningful as in Nouwen's definition? How do we manage the twin drives toward individuality and separateness?

Sometimes, frankly, we don't manage them too well. For people who have unresolved issues around abandonment, or control, or separation from their parents, or personality disorders, or other blocks, the idea of being separate in an intimate relationship is scary and confusing. They may lack the tools to go within to resolve these problems, so they crave merger to salve their inner wounds. Aided by the popular culture which says, "Two Become One" (wasn't that a Spice Girls song?), some people find it truly difficult to remain an individual in an intimate relationship. Experts say that it's precisely this merger which threatens the health of our most intimate relationships.

So let's reframe what relationships are supposed to be, shall we? Dr. Michael Gurian, who wrote What Could He Be Thinking?: How a Man's Mind Really Works, is an expert on brain biology. Bottom line: men's brains and women's brains are constructed differently so we act differently. It may not be that the man hogs the remote because he's a self-centered jerk -- he may just be wired to be territorial. Women aren't weak and silly just because they like talking about stuff -- it may be just that she feels bonded when she does so.

If I make a safe place for you to be a guy, and you make a safe place for me to be a gal, what have we got? Dr. Gurian's theory of "Intimate Separateness" holds that there is a natural ebb and flow between the male brain's need for independence and the female brain's need for closeness. Merely understanding this nature-based fact can allow couples the freedom to be individuals and to move naturally between the two states -- distance and closeness -- without either being "right" or "wrong". This helps couples move away from destructive expectations of merger which can't be met anywhere except on the silver screen.

To love is to give. To love is to give a safe place for another person to be fully themselves. With no thought to what you're getting in return. It's a gift. It's so much more than romance. It's bigger than a crush. Yet, it's simply a gift. A gift that enlarges the lives of both the lover and the loved.

When To Quit

Every once in a while I have one of those weeks where it seems that every client is talking about the same thing. When that happens, I figure I'm getting some big old honking message.

And I have to write about it.

This week, the ubiqui-topic was "When do I quit?" And there seems to be variety in what it is people want to quit -- quit smoking, quit a job, quit a relationship, quit worrying.

But how do you know it's time? How can you be sure you're clear, and leaving for the right reasons? What are the right reasons, anyway?

It's time to quit when the person you are becoming is someone you don't like. When you're in a job, and as a condition of employment you are expected to fudge facts, shift numbers and lie to customers, you become a person who fudges, shifts and lies. Is that who you want to be?

A relationship that asks you to set aside your own personal goals, your own friends, your own hobbies -- that asks you to nag, or to make excuses for another person, or to change your beliefs -- who are you in that kind of relationship? You're a person with no rudder. You're a person with no self. Is that who you want to be?

It's time to quit when you find that you love having the problem more than the problem loves you. If you find yourself talking about the problem all the time, stewing and fretting, worrying about it, analyzing it, turning the problem over and over in your head -- is that who you want to be? Is that how you want to use your energy?

There's an underlying ubiqui-thought we need to address, friends, and it's: "I should be able to make this work."

Maybe you could make it work. If you were King of The Forest and could control all the elements. So, let me ask you -- do you control your boss? Can you stop him from giving you an ASAP assignment -- at 5pm on New Year's Eve? Can you stop him from lobbing f-bombs at you? Can you stop her from excluding you from important meetings, or distribution of key memos?

Can you make your boyfriend sober? Can you single-handedly restore your spouse to mental health? Is it possible to string together the perfect set of words that will make your boss sit up and say, "By golly, you're absolutely right! I'm a jerk! I am going to change 30 years of my behavior just because of what you said!"

Ah, folks can dream. But we know the truth: you only control yourself, and you only change yourself. "Making this work" often means adapting yourself to something that's unhealthy.

And you become, over time, someone you don't want to be.

"Yes, but..." is another tactic we use to stay stuck in an unhealthy situation. "Yes, but... when he leaves his wife, stops drinking, goes to counseling and gets a job, everything will be perfect." OK. But for now, he's with his wife, drinking, avoiding counseling and unemployed. That's what's real. The "Yes, but..." you're waiting for might never happen.

And who are you becoming while you wait?

You and only you have the opportunity, and the right, to live the life you are meant to live. Quitting that which is unhealthy for you and moving toward that which is healthy can be really, really hard. But it's the only way you become someone you really, really like.

Funk Sway

The ancient Chinese art of feng shui seeks to correct or balance the energy in a place so that maximum happiness, prosperity and good fortune can occur. Feng shui is helpful in decluttering, redecorating and renovation. Practitioners train for years to understand the complex rules surrounding the harnessing of "chi" -- the energy that surrounds us.

I have my own method of decluttering, redecorating and harnessing chi. It's simple, with just a few rules. All you need is a CD player and the right music and you can change your life and your chi.

I call it "Funk Sway", and it's based on one universal premise: there is no way to be unhappy when you are dancing to classic funk music.

I am a certified Funk Sway master, and by reading this you will achieve your mastery, too.

Here's what you do: go to the room you want to re-energize. This next step is a very important element to set the tone for the entire Funk Sway process: you must play the funk classic "Play That Funky Music (White Boy)" by Wild Cherry. Begin to sway...perchance to dance. When the song has concluded, choose your next song depending on what you'd like to achieve in your life.

To declutter, you must play "Pick Up The Pieces" by the Average White Band. Play it loud. Swaying will happen, trust me. Amid the swaying, and dancing, begin to literally pick up the pieces. In a few short minutes, you will be funk swaying your way into a tidier room!

To affirm your sense of gratitude, you need "Thank You (Falettime Be Mice Elf Agin)" by Sly and the Family Stone. Require some affirmation? It's "Tell Me Something Good" by Rufus (and Chaka Khan, Chaka Khan). Want to develop a career in the movies? "Hollywood Swinging" by Kool and the Gang sets the proper tone. Lost something? Why, you need Parliament's "Flashlight" (or maybe a... neon light).

Grateful for your health and body? "Brick House" by the Commodores. Need to focus on being a more empathetic individual? "I Feel For You (I Think I Love You)" by Chaka Khan (Chaka Khan -- you know you always say it twice).

When you have met your objective for your Funk Sway session, the concluding song must be "Give Up The Funk (Tear The Roof Off The Sucker)".

Your environment is now funkified. Your burdens have been laid down, and joy pervades.

It's time to free your inner funkster. Open yourself to the messages of the universe, contained in a brutal back beat and righteous horn section. Sway to the funk. Be one with the funk.

It's time to Funk Sway your chi, y'all.

Walking The Walk

Those of you who have worked with me know that sometimes I pull something and use it in a way it may not have been intended. I may use a marketing tool to assess your life. Or take a parenting technique and apply it to your business. The Five Love Languages by Dr. Gary Chapman is one of those multi-purpose tools I find myself using time and time again.

The book is designed for couples -- to bring them closer together. But I have found the information especially useful in a workplace setting. Let me 'splain, Lucy.

Dr. Chapman, a marriage counselor with over 30 years of experience, suggests that there are five primary ways people experience feeling loved. They are:

Physical Touch

Quality Time

Acts of Service

Gifts

Words of Affirmation

So let's look at each Love Language. Physical Touch people feel loved when they are in physical contact with others -- hugs, pats on the back, sex. In a workplace setting, Physical Touch people must be very, very careful... but if you supervise someone who is "touchy-feely", you may find a literal pat on the back may do wonders for his performance.

Quality Time folks like spending one-on-one time with another person. They will make time for you, and like when you make time for them. If someone continually finds excuses to linger in your office, they might be a Quality Time person, trying to satisfy that need.

People motivated by Acts of Service will do things for you. At home, these are people who fold and put away your laundry. Or do your dishes. Or get your car inspected, or your tires rotated. In the office, these folks might offer to get you lunch while they get their own. Or bring you a package from the front desk they just happened to spot.

Although we'd like to think that Gifts are restricted to small blue boxes from Tiffany's, Gifts can be as small as a cookie from a favorite restaurant, or a souvenir from a trip. Gifts people like knowing you were thinking of them when you were apart. Finally, people motivated by Words of Affirmation need to be told that they are valued and appreciated.

Dr. Chapman says that often we speak to others using our own Love Language -- which may or may not be relevant to the other person. This is how relationships get in trouble -- I tell you you're wonderful because I'm a Words of Affirmation person, and it means absolutely nothing to you because you're an Acts of Service person. "Sweet words are nice, but what have you done for me lately?" might be the response.

Many troubled marriages, suggests Chapman, could be saved if only the partners would speak each other's Love Language. When you consider how many women report that their husbands never "do anything around the house" -- they're expressing their Acts of Service orientation -- and how many men complain that they don't get enough sex -- they're expressing their Physical Touch leanings -- the concept of speaking Love Languages to each other becomes very clear.

Wouldn't it be fascinating to consider that the difficult boss you struggle with could be transformed - - if you just started speaking to him in his Love Language? Do a few Acts of Service, and diffuse the tension. Give him some Words of Affirmation and get him off your back...

Dr. Chapman's main point is that if you speak the other person's Love Language rather than your own, you will fill up their "Love Tank" -- increasing their attachment and regard for you -- and create a happier, healthier relationship.

I have to tell you that this really works. It works with partners, children, parents, siblings, friends and co-workers. It even works with ex-spouses! Many people have a primary language as well as a secondary one -- make it your business to know the Love Language of those important to you, as well as your own, and you will greatly increase your life satisfaction. Promise.

Extreme Jobs

How many hours a week do you work? Do you travel? Do you supervise or mentor people? Are you required to be available to clients 24/7? Do you have to attend work-related events outside of regular work hours? Are there even such things as "regular work hours" where you work?

If you answered yes to these questions, then you might just have what Sylvia Ann Hewlett calls an "Extreme Job." In her book Off-Ramps and On-Ramps: Keeping Talented Women on the Road to Success, Hewlett discusses the rise of extreme jobism as a barrier which keeps women from the executive suite, but also keeps men stressed and harried. It's true, fewer women with children hold extreme jobs than do men -- mainly because of the competing demands of work and family. Women who are also moms tend to step down, or away, from extreme jobs in an effort to find a balance in their lives.

Hewlett backs up her arguments with terrific research. In surveys, people in extreme jobs report the toll their work life takes on their health -- "more than two thirds don't get enough sleep, half don't get enough exercise, and a significant number overeat, consume too much alcohol, or rely on medications to relieve insomnia or anxiety," Hewlett finds.

But the biggest toll comes in the personal life of people with extreme jobs. Hewlett cites Arlie Hochschild's book The Time Bind, and talks about the stress on a relationship when both people work long hours at demanding jobs. "Hochchild shows that for many professionals 'home' and 'work' have reversed roles: home is where you expect to find stress -- and guilt; while work has become the 'haven in a heartless world' -- the place where you get strokes and respect, a place where success is more predictable."

Just about the same time I read Hewlett's book, the Washington Post ran an article about workaholism. Serendipitous coincidence for me, because I was able to connect some dots. The Post article suggested workaholics take a look at relationships in the family, and ask, "Do you routinely get home after the kids are in bed? Miss important family events? Do you get impatient with family members because you have so much work to do?" The Post quotes Chris Essex from the Center for Work and the Family who says that some workaholics "choose to stay at work because family is harder work. They have skills and training that allow them to be successful at work, but they don't have the skills and training to be successful at home."

See a theme here?

It seems that sometimes people use the demands of their job as a barrier to real, deep connection with others. Busy single people can't make plans with others; busy married people can't make plans with their families. Which is one big, honking way to avoid connecting with people at all.

Kinda sad, isn't it?

The rules and roles are well-defined at work -- thus giving the control freak among us plenty of comfort. At home, however, the footing's somewhat dicier, and harder to control. So, stay at work -- in the comfort zone -- or come home, where all bets are off.

If you recognize yourself in this paradigm, there are some things you can do to begin balancing your life and making deeper connections with your family and friends:

1) Start measuring yourself by a new yardstick. Rather than making your long hours and demanding schedule a "badge of honor", define yourself in other ways -- as a good parent, a good friend, a good squash player. So many times I've been in situations where one person talks about how demanding their job is only to have the next person "one-up" with how demanding their job is. If you find yourself in this kind of dueling banjos, just stop. De-escalate. You'll be doing everyone a favor if you are a walking example of a happy, balanced life.

2) If you are the boss and you demand that your staff model your driven behavior, ask yourself if that's really necessary. Do you have stressed-out people? Do you have people who are frequently ill? How's morale? Do you have high turnover? Hewlett points out that it costs one and a half times a person's salary to replace them -- it costs more the higher in the organization you go. Workaholism, then, costs you more as a manager than it likely gets you. Change the group think, and you will get happier, more productive people who like what they do -- and, as I've often found -- will stay loyal to you and your organization.

3) Get some training. Go to a couples retreat, take some parenting classes or take up a hobby. In our workplaces we get leadership training, diversity training, computer training, ethics training, team building exercises and stress management classes. Why don't we do this in our own homes? Make a "training schedule" for your non-work life, and build those skills which might be lacking. If you can find rewards from this kind of training -- more sex, more happiness, more connection, more fun (just to name a few) -- then the reward of an extreme job begins to pale in comparison. Believe me.

The bottom line is this: where you put your attention will grown more important in your life. If you put 120% of your attention on your work life, how much do you have for the rest of you? -80% is my guess. I'm not saying you can't be successful. You can be. I'm not saying you can't work hard. You can. The goal is balance. Work smart. Work efficient. Define yourself by your whole life, not just one part of it. It's in that balance that life has the most meaning. And the most joy.

Supply & Demand

"I don't even know who I am any more," the 40-something woman across the table said to me. "Am I just someone's mom? Someone's wife? The chauffeur? The person who does the laundry and cooks the meals? Is that all I am?"

It's a perverse irony -- we love to do things for others, yet by doing so we often lose ourselves. We're always ready to help others, always available to tend to that which needs tending. We’re so accommodating that our help becomes expected rather than appreciated.

It's a fact that when things become too easy, too plentiful, too ubiquitous, they are often taken for granted. This is true whether it's a person place or thing. The bottom line is that when something is too available, it is less valuable.

But that's supply and demand for you. Too much supply in the system yields lower value. More demand than supply raises value.

If you are someone who derives meaning and purpose from being needed, you may find that your willingness to drop your priorities to help others meet their priorities devalues both you and what you want to do.

Here’s an example: The laundry is always done on time. Your family comes to expect it. There is always food, and no one fixes meals but you. You help with homework. You come running when called. Even when you are knee deep in paying bills, figuring income taxes or coordinating the big fundraiser, you drop what you are doing to help someone else. You feel frustrated because you never seem to finish anything, and you can't concentrate long enough to focus on the big picture.

Another example: You have a big project on your dance card. You chunk it up into doable steps and make a plan for getting it all done on time. Then Jim pops his head into your cube and says, "Can you help me with the Framastan contract?" You like being needed, especially by Jim (who is a good guy but REALLY needy), so you say, "Sure!" Next thing you know, Jim is presenting and not mentioning that you helped in any way -- and your project is still not done.

An example of putting your own needs last: Your source of soul-boosting strength is full sweat mountain biking. However, whenever you go biking you feel guilty if you don't bring your two year old along in a bike seat, and your five year old along on his own bike. They can't manage trails, so you stick to the flat path. You never break a sweat and your soul is teased, but not nourished.

When your needs are always trumped by another’s needs, you telegraph the message “I am not important.” Oh, you may feel important in the doing, and in being needed. But if your own objectives and priorities are not valued – even by you – your own objectives and priorities will fall by the wayside.

When you provide endless supply, the value of what you provide is diminished. In fact, your very sense of self becomes diminished.

How do you get supply and demand into appropriate balance? Start by honoring your own needs, values, objectives and priorities. Easier said than done? OK, I’ll give you a script.

Your child yells, “Hey, come look at this!” You say, “Sweetie pie, I am working on the taxes and can’t come right now. Can you explain to me what you see?” That way, if what he wants you to see is a commercial for Snappy-Poppy O’s or an escaped gerbil or, oh, blood, you can react accordingly. You are also teaching him that what you do is important and deserves respect. A great life lesson.

Jim asks for help on the Framastan contract. You say, “Jim, I’d love to help you but I have to get this project done by Thursday at 3pm. Can I help you after that?” In all likelihood, Jim will move on and look for another sucker to do his work for him. And you have proven that you are not that sucker.

You plan to go mountain biking to work up a sweat and feed your soul. Keep that objective in mind and leave the kids at home in the care of someone wonderful (then, when you get home and are showered, push that caring someone out the door for his or her own soul-feeding time). Prioritize your “me time” – because doing so helps you be a better parent.

Sometimes your over-supply of “help and assistance” can be read as “You are not capable of doing this for yourself” or “You will make a muddle of this, so I am going to take care of it.” Both of these sentiments completely disempower the other person. Think about it: when you go on a girl’s weekend once a year and always arrange a babysitter to support your husband, what message are you sending? That he’s incapable of effective parenting? Then why in the world do you complain that he never does anything? You’ve already sent him the message that he can’t, loud and clear.

We lose ourselves, like the 40-year old woman I talked with, when we devalue our selves by being too available, and not honoring our own needs and objectives. So, be careful of what you supply. Calibrate your help and assistance to meet reasonable demands. Keep your value up by giving others the chance to meet their own demands. You have a right to know who you are, and you get it through a steady supply of self-respect.

Here, But Not Here

The other day I was in the mall running some errands and saw the cutest high school couple. Their arms were entwined – her right hand in his back pocket, his left in hers – as they walked arm in arm. Sweet. Brought back memories. Until I looked closer and saw that the boy was chit-chatting on his cell phone while he strolled with his sweetie. Sweetie had a look on her face which was one part “Woo-hoo! I’ve-got-a-boyfriend-look-at-me” and one part “When is he going to get off the phone?”

This brought to mind a trip to Disney World where I saw a father glued to his Blackberry while the family stood in a slow-moving line. The mother would try to engage him in a conversation with her and the kids and he would absently respond, “Uh, huh” or “Mmmm” whether or not those were relevant responses. Finally, the exasperated mother said, “Honey, we are on vacation. This is not your office. Put the Blackberry away.” It was as if he were coming out of a trance as he slipped it into his pocket. He was there, but not there. I wonder where he wanted to be.

Cell phones and Blackberrys have given us a way to be present physically but absent, practically. We’re here, but not here. And, for the sake of our relationships, I think it’s time we put the phone down, so we can be right here, right now.

Now, I’m no Luddite. I don’t hate technology. I like technology. In fact, I am a gadget girl. Give me a new electronic gizmo and I can spend hours noodling with it. I read about new cell phones, TVs, DVDs, computers, programs, cameras, PDAs – all that stuff. I’m an early adopter who enjoys finding new tools which allow me to do things more efficiently. Especially tools with cool little buttons that make noises and glow in the dark.

But cell phones and Blackberrys are everywhere, and steal our time and attention. They allow us to keep relationships at an arm’s length (the length of the arm holding the phone, bent to our ear, in fact). They help us stay superficially involved. It’s as if we’re asking for credit for hanging out with one person while we’re really hanging out with whoever’s on the other end of the phone.

When you’re there, but not there, you divide your attention so no one or nothing is getting all of you. Some of us seem to use the cell phone for precisely this reason. The distance provided by being on a call calibrates a relationship. It gives power to the person with the phone – they decide who can talk with whom, when. It provides a great excuse for emotional distance. I don’t have to be fully engaged in a difficult discussion with you because (saved by the bell!) my phone is ringing!

I tell my clients, “Look at how you’re spending your time and you will know where your priorities lie.” What are you telegraphing about your priorities when you interrupt a conversation with a real, live person to take a call from a person who's not even there? How do you think the person you’re sitting across the table from, who you’ve effectively put on “hold”, feels? Important? Valuable? Relevant?

Take a minute to think about the times when you’re there, but not there. Gizmos and gadgets can create a false urgency in our lives. They decide so you don't have to. But they can't have relationships for you.

Setting boundaries around when you answer calls, or check email, can help get you started on building quality relationships with people in your life. Need some help finding appropriate boundaries? Here are some ideas:

• No answering the phone when there’s only one other person present – say your spouse, your child, your parole officer

• No checking email in church or at your child’s play or during your performance review

• You might even consider – gasp – not taking your cell phone or Blackberry on vacation

“But, Michele!” you gasp. “I’m multi-tasking! Isn’t that what an effective person does?”

No. Multi-tasking is when you try to cram more into a minute than a minute deserves. Multi-tasking is what an overwhelmed, overstressed, anxious person does. A balanced person, present in the moment, actually does one thing at a time, devoting as much attention as needed to accomplish the task at hand.

Now, does that mean that if you leave a message for someone you can’t do a thing until they return your phone call? You certainly may do something else. But when they call you back, don’t check your email while you conduct your call.

Because you’ll be there, but not there.

“But, Michele!” you shout. “I’m very important! The office can’t do without me! I have to be in touch 24/7! I have to have my Blackberry.”

I know you are very, very important. But play a game with me, will you? Name a really important person in the world. OK – the Pope. Do you think the Pope carries a Blackberry? Does he check it during church? Does he answer his cell phone when he’s having audiences? Or hearing confession?

My guess is that the Pope knows what’s important. He knows the greatest gift you can give someone else is to be there with them. To hear them, to know them, to respect them, to be present right there, in that moment, with them.

The secret to happy lives and rich relationships has nothing to do with gizmos and gadgets – it has everything to do with you, and how often you can be right here, right now. Set your own priorities. Don't let some electronic device serve as an artificial barrier to meaningful connection with others.

You owe it to yourself, and others, to be here, now.

Working At It

I believe the secret to living a happy life is to be fully conscious – to be alive and awake to your life. Being alive and awake can have its downsides, certainly. It’s no fun to feel sad, or to experience loss. But when you are alive and awake, even the most painful experience provides an opportunity to learn something and to grow.

I went to a funeral this week, and, although it was sad, I was reminded of something very valuable. My friend Pamela Gardner Ahearn died quite suddenly; she was 52 and had led an extraordinary life. As a protocol officer at the State Department, she knew many famous, even legendary, people who influenced history. But it was as a friend that Pam had the most impact.

The way people responded to her death showed me that. Folks showed up. They pitched in. They reached out. They cared for her husband, her mother, her sisters, nieces and nephews. They came because they knew Pam would have done it for them, had the situation been reversed.

I was in my mid-20s when I met Pam. I worked at the White House doing Presidential events; Pam worked at the State Department and dated one of my colleagues, who, after a courtship of 13 years or so, became her husband. There is such a vibrant connection between those of us who worked together in those days. Maybe it's that we were young, with a lot of responsibility, working in high pressure situations. We needed to trust and rely each other to get the job done. Happily, that connection is still there.

It’s a bittersweet thing to look forward to seeing long-lost friends at such a sad occasion, but that’s what it was for me. Friends came from California, from New England, from New York, from Tennessee, from down the street. You know how you have friends who you can pick right up with, even if you don’t talk for months or years? It’s that way with these people. And I was so happy to see them.

At the funeral, my old boss Jim told some funny stories about Pam and poignantly noted that he had never told Pam how much he admired her and appreciated her friendship. It was a heartfelt admission from a rather tough guy.

I thought about how often I tell my friends and family how important they are to me. Not often enough. I glanced around the church and realized I was sitting in a pew with people very dear to me, people I admire, people who I have worked with in extremely challenging situations. One row ahead was a woman with such strong values and priorities – her sense of compassion, caring and kindness continues to serve as a model to me. Across the way was one of my favorite couples – people whose down-to-earth nature endures despite their high-profile positions. Behind me was one of the first friends I made as an adult in Washington, DC. Handing out programs was a former Senate staffer turned at-home mom – one of the most insightful women I know. On the other aisle was a woman who has been very generous to me, and others. Among the pallbearers was a man who gave me a sound piece of advice at a time I needed it most – he said, “Act in ways you can be proud of when the crisis has passed.” Good advice from a good man.

Everywhere I looked were people I love, people I have relied on, people who have enriched my life.

And I doubt I’ve ever told them that.

How about you? Do you have people in your life you rely on, who you appreciate, who you admire – yet haven’t told them how you feel?

One of the other speakers was a lovely woman who grew up with Pam in Nashville. They met in sixth grade and had a friendship which endured forty years. Forty years! How did they do it? “We worked at it,” she said, simply. And I realized, in that moment, that I need to work at it, too.

That evening, I got a call from one of my dearest friends who was also at the funeral. She and I have shared so many of life’s challenges, but our schedules are such that we don’t see each other that often. She left me a voice message, just to tell me she loved me. She was working at it. As I will, too.

I’m going to give you a homework assignment – is there someone, or several people, you need to work at it with? Who need to hear just how important they are to you? More importantly, are there people you need to say “I love you” to? I’ll bet the answer is yes. So, take a minute and write a note, send an email, leave a voice message, or, better yet, grab a cup of coffee and look your friend in the eye and tell them what they mean to you.

Pam’s eyes would twinkle at the thought.

Authentically You

There was a time in my life when I said "yes" when I meant "no", and "no" when I meant "yes". Looking back, I realize I did it because that's what I thought people wanted from me. And I wanted to be the person folks wanted me to be.

I said "yes" so often that my friend Fran gave me a t-shirt which read "Stop Me Before I Volunteer Again" which I wore to the next PTA meeting. I happened to be the PTA President at the time. Excellent team building message, don't you think?

I said "yes" because saying "no" might have meant someone would be unhappy with me. It made no nevermind if I was unhappy. My own need to be liked was more important than my need to be happy.

And I was not happy. Because I was not allowing myself to be authentically Michele. I was allowing others to determine who I might be. Power, power -- who's got the power? It was anybody but me.

I just re-read a book I've learned so much from: The Wizard of Oz and Other Narcissists by Eleanor Payson. The approach Payson takes in this book -- what living with, working with, or being raised by a narcissist does to a person's self-esteem, coping mechanisms and future relationships -- is insightful. But I got something new from my recent re-read -- the idea of self-reflection as an indicator of emotional and mental health.

People with a character disorder, such as narcissism, are incapable of self-reflection. I also think people who are sleep-walking through their lives often avoid self-reflection or self-observation because they are afraid of waking up and living fully. Maybe they are afraid of being authentically themselves.

I am here to tell you that self-reflection is the path to authentic living. When you know who you are, how you feel and what you like -- not what others want you to be, feel or like -- and you live it, that's authenticity, baby.

There's an index card on my computer monitor. On it are scratched three simple questions. For me, they are the heart of my own self-reflection.

1. Why have I drawn this experience to me at this time?
2. What is this experience trying to teach me?
3. How can I use this situation to help me be a better person?

I refer to this card so often that these three questions have become my intuitive framework, especially when I am tempted to say "yes" when I really want to say "no". The opportunity to say "no", and mean it, often comes to me when I need to remember to keep my boundaries intact. Sometimes, it comes as a chance to help maintain my priorities -- and not take responsibility for executing yours. I've learned that when I focus on executing other people's priorities, it's frequently at the expense of my own.

Every single time I say "no" when I want to say "no", I reinforce that I am a Self worth being. All by myself. Regardless of whether you like me and my answer to your request, or not. When I stand up for myself, I am standing for my own authentic Me. That is a shift from my old way of being, and it feels really good. It feels like I am expressing my true self.

And, boy howdy, I become a better person when I only say "yes" when I mean "yes". I do a better job. I'm not overcommitted. I'm more focused. I say "yes" because I really and truly want to do what's asked of me. Believe me, if I say "yes", you are going to see and feel my passion.

Being authentically me means that I honor my choices, and I honor my abilities. I'm living my passions. I'm feeling all my feelings. And expressing them. And when I'm authentically me, I make space for you to be authentically you. How? Because it's perfectly OK with me if you are mad, happy, sad, silly, loving, offbeat, generous, hurt, wacky or meditative. Because I'm all those things, too.

Help!

“I lift up my eyes to the hills – from where will my help come?” (Psalm 121) This line from the Bible has always made me think of the cavalry swooping down over a ridge in some old western movie, bugles blaring and standards waving.

“My help comes from the Lord, who made heaven and earth,” is the response the Psalm gives us. No word on the cavalry.

One of my biggest problems with “self-help” is the reliance on the word “self”. There’s one big “should” there – we should pull ourselves up by our own bootstraps, forge our own path, fly solo, hoe our own row and, as Fleetwood Mac so succinctly put it, “go our own way.” It’s as if asking for help is revealing a giant weakness.

What’s the benefit of flying solo? Control, yes. And self-determination. Another good one: you don’t have to share your toys. When you are on your own no one else’s opinion matters… no one can tell you you’re wrong. No one can hurt you by rejecting your ideas.

Flying solo is a way of protecting yourself. Or, in the words of another pop song, “I am a rock, I am an island. I’ve built walls, A fortress deep and mighty that none may penetrate. I have no need of friendship; friendship causes pain. It’s laughter and it’s loving I disdain. I am a rock, I am an island.” (See? All those afternoons singing into my hairbrush have really paid off. And to think my parents worried about my future!)

I have seen so many women stop asking their husbands for help, especially when they have decided to step back from careers to focus on parenting. It’s as if these women feel they have to justify their decision by doing everything themselves. As a result, they feel lonely, overwhelmed, stressed out and alienated from their spouse. They have created a situation where they cannot ask for exactly what they need – help. And marriages suffer.

Gary Zukav wrote a challenging little book called The Seat of the Soul. Parts of the book are what my late cousin Libby would have called “woo-woo”, but his definition of relationship is right on: “individuals joined in equality for the purpose of spiritual growth.” What a marvelous way to phrase it.

If I am your friend, or your spouse, I am an individual committed to your spiritual growth. I truly want the best for you. I want you to grow. I want you to evolve, regardless of what that means for me.

However. The equals thing and the pursuit of growth thing may not be what you've got going on. If that's the case, maybe the reason you two don't ask for help is because you really don't want growth. Deep inside you think that if you grow you might change or your partner might change. They might not like you. You may not like them. You might leave. Or they might. That's scary. So you don't ask for help because you don't want to be abandoned. You're afraid that asking for help will reveal flaws in your relationship that may be too big to handle, so you don't ask. Sound at all familiar?

Let me tell you this: very few relationships are beyond repair -- especially if both of you want a more vibrant, loving connection. It is possible to shift away from fear and toward something more -- but you may need help to get there.

All you need to do is ask.

If you and I were in the equals-in-pursuit-of-growth kind of relationship/ friendship Gary Zukav describes, I want you to ask me for help. Not so I have a chit I can hold over your head for the rest of your stinkin’ life – but so I can help you, maybe in some small way, pursue your own personal growth.

But, if you want to know the truth, when I help you the real recipient of growth is... me. When I help you, I step out of my self-centered, narcissistic cocoon and focus externally. When I pack boxes with you, or help you with the dishes, or refer you business, or help you finally figure out your relationship with your mother, I put your needs before my own. And that is a great gift you give me. By asking for my help, you allow me to see a bigger world than I usually experience.

Zukav’s book also talks about angels, teachers and guides. This is the place he goes a little more woo-woo.

But when you think about it, it’s not so far out there.

Think about the time you had a baby on one hip, a toddler by the hand, three stuffed shopping bags and a stroller that needed folding before you got on the escalator during the Christmas shopping rush. Who stepped in and helped? Did you say, “Thank you, you're an angel!” to that guy? You sure could have. How about the woman in your first job who talked with you about suits, pantyhose and office politics? What did she teach you? And the fellow who stopped in the rain and changed your tire? Did he guide you to a moment when you were grateful and humble?

When the Psalm says, “From where will my help come? My help comes from the Lord who made heaven and earth” -- remember that each of the examples above are human beings, just like you and me. If humans were indeed made in the divine image, then we all carry a spark of divinity within. You’ve got the spark, I’ve got the spark, he’s got it, she’s got it. Everybody's got it.

And your help? It comes directly from the divine spark within others.

So it’s OK to ask for help. Think of it this way: you’re doing everyone a favor! You’re appealing to our highest self, and allowing us to grow, and to touch the divine within.

Which is the essence of love. And the opposite of fear.

And not at all weak.

The Company You Keep

My first job after college was working for a beer company. Yep, I was hired to take on the onerous duty of selling beer to college students. Such hard work! For undertaking this major, heavy-lifting responsibility, I got a company car, an expense account, tickets to major sporting events all over the Pacific Northwest and all the gimme t-shirts a girl could want.

Nice work if you can get it, believe me.

At the time, and probably even today, the beer industry was dominated by men. I can’t tell you how many times I was the only woman in the room. It was a guy business, run by guys, governed by guy rules – and I sure learned to play by guy rules.

Which meant I swore like a sailor.

Everywhere I went – every warehouse, every meeting, every bar, every grocery store – people were using swear words. They were used as adjectives. As nouns. As verbs. Even as dangling participles.

I swam in an ocean of obscenity. And I took to it like a fish to water.

Imagine my surprise when, in my next job, I let go a stream of what I considered normal, creative invective and the room fell deadly quiet. Guess what? My new colleagues didn’t swear. I felt like a fish out of water. A fish with a potty mouth.

Group dynamics certainly govern our behavior. What’s acceptable to one crowd may be completely unacceptable to another. The trick is to find a group which supports that which is best in us – rather than a group that appeals to, how shall I say it? Our baser instincts.

There’s a public service announcement on TV now which shows a stick figure lounging in a window, smoking a joint. He offers a hit to the dog. The dog declines the opportunity. The stick figure says, “I feel bad about what I’m doing. If you did it with me, I’d feel less bad.” Maybe the dog’s name is B-I-N-G-O, because that’s what I felt like saying when I saw the ad. Bingo! People who feel bad about what they are doing need me to do it, too, so they can feel less bad.

In her book Not Just Friends, Dr. Shirley Glass suggests that one of the ways to affair-proof your marriage is to associate with people who are not only friends of marriage in general, but friends of your marriage in particular. In fact, Dr. Glass’ research shows that associating with people who are in affairs, or who condone, support or encourage affairs, increases the likelihood that your marriage will end in divorce.

It’s like a new norm is invented by the company you keep. If everyone swears, then it’s normal to swear. If everyone takes office supplies home, then it’s not stealing – it’s actually OK to put that Xerox copier in your pocketbook and haul it home. If people are rewarded for swindling clients, then clients get swindled. If everyone is cheating on their spouse, then it’s not cheating, really – it’s fun, it’s cool, it’s how the game is played. It may be unethical, but it's the norm. And when you live unethically, day in and day out, your self-esteem erodes.

That’s why finding your “tribe” of like-minded friends is vitally important to your marriage, to your workplace, to your happiness -- to your sense of self.

Friends help you be your best self. They support your personal growth, are objective and appropriately affirming. I say “appropriately” because it would be perfectly fine with me if a friend were less than affirming – especially if I had wandered off on some weird track that was not really that good for me. Like if I were spending day after day in my jammies eating junk food, not bathing, muttering to myself and watching back-to-back Rachel Ray shows. Some people call that “bad”. Other people call it “March, 2004.”

Moving on.

Henri Nouwen, one of my favorite spiritual writers,defined love as making a safe place for another person to be fully themselves. My kids’ pediatrician has a framed print on his wall, “Let him be left-handed if that’s how he’s made.” Love, then, is letting someone be left-handed. Or gassy. Or opinionated. Or a Rachel Ray fan.

But being a friend also means you have the obligation to raise the impact of their negative or destructive behaviors with them.

The moment to evaluate a friendship is when, in the process of your friend fully being themselves, you find that you cannot be fully yourself. If their full expression is hurtful, dangerous or negative to you, you have every right to say something and to lovingly detach – to give them a ton of safe space to be themselves.

Alcoholics often find that they need new friends after sobriety, because many of their old friends consciously or sub-consciously promote drinking. That’s one reason why recovering alcoholics get sponsors – the sponsor is the beginning of a new social network, one which supports healthy, affirming activities, yet is lovingly supportive when the person in recovery slips back into hurtful habits. The sponsor creates a positive space for the alcoholic to be fully himself.

Toxic friendships are often based on being in a negative space together. How do you know if you're in one? If you feel used, you're probably being used. If you feel demeaned and belittled, then you're not in a situation which helps you grow. If you feel you can't be fully yourself with your friends, then you definitely haven't found your tribe. Relationships like this are not about growth or overcoming or affirmation. Rather, these friendships serve to keep all participants down, so nothing and no one has to change. They exist so other people won't feel so bad.

When eyes open and one person begins to grow, however, these friendships end because what they’re built on is not solid. And that's OK. Because when you're out of a bad situation, you have the chance to find a good one.

Look at your friendships. Do they support you? Do they affirm you? Do they reflect your values, your ethics, your best self? If they do, then congratulations.

You’ve found your tribe.

Forgiveness

I was a guest speaker at a book club the other night – reviewing the best of parenting, relationship and personal growth books – when I was asked, “What about forgiveness?” In response, I talked about the ideas in Dr. Janis Abrahms Spring’s book How Can I Forgive You?, but as I drove home I felt unsatisfied with my response. It wasn't complete enough.

Don't get me wrong. Dr. Spring’s book is terrific, providing a workable framework for moving to forgiveness. It’s practical, it’s pragmatic and it’s well-written. The book was not my problem. I was glad I had mentioned such a useful book.

No, my problem was – no surprise for this "words girl" – the semantics of the word “forgiveness”. What is it? What does it mean? We hear about forgiveness from pulpits and pop culture all the time. Why, it’s a gift we give ourselves! It’s the right thing to do! Forgiving is a sign of our spiritual development and piety!

Forgiveness has become such a ubiquitous word, in fact, that perhaps it’s lost its potency. I bump into someone in a crowded store and I say, “Excuse me.” Am I asking forgiveness for my offense? Many of us say “sorry” almost as often as we say “uhm”. Do we seek forgiveness each time we blurt it out? Teens say, “My bad” and their buds say, “No problem.” Is that a forgiveness exchange?

What does "forgiveness" mean?

As I drove home, pondering, this definition popped into my head:

"Forgiveness is when the hurt you’ve suffered no longer drives your decision-making, nor defines who you are. "

Here's an example: Tom’s wife left him for another man. Tom was devastated. For the first few months, he was among the walking wounded and would tell the story of his betrayal to anyone who’d listen. And some who didn’t want to listen. His mind was filled with thoughts of retribution, retaliation and revenge. Nearly every thought he had, nearly every course of action, was directed by his wife’s affair and their subsequent divorce. And women? Pffffft. Since his wife had betrayed him and she was a woman, then all women were capable of betrayal and should be avoided. Women were not to be trusted. No one was to be trusted.

He was not in a place of forgiveness.

Over time, though, he began to add different activities to his schedule. He got into mountain biking, planned outings with friends and explored his beliefs. He recommitted himself to his work, and got a promotion. He gingerly made friendships, then dates, with women. Gradually, his decisions were based on his life now, not his life then. He no longer needed to tell the story of his wife’s affair to people – because it no longer seemed that relevant. If you asked him, he’d say, “I’m Tom. I’m a 45 year old engineer who likes mountain biking, wine and hanging with friends. Oh, and I’m divorced.”

He had arrived at the place of forgiveness.

That doesn’t mean his wife’s affair had no impact on Tom’s life. It did. Forgiveness didn’t mean Tom pretended he wasn’t hurt. He was. It doesn’t mean it was OK for Tom’s wife to have had an affair. It wasn’t. What happened in his marriage became a part of the accumulated experiences of Tom’s life – just not the key, defining part of his life.

Forgiveness meant that Tom was no longer driven or defined by his hurt.

In many cases, one person hurts another person and they stay in a relationship. The hurt may be big or it may be small. But it’s a hurt and the only way forward is through forgiveness. This mutual forgiveness benefits both parties.

We've seen how a hurt person's path to forgiveness helped him. In an ongoing relationship, forgiveness is a huge relief for the injuring party, too. She knows that she’s not going to “have to pay for this for the rest of my life” since his decisions are not going to be solely based on the hurt ("I'm only doing this because you lied to me twenty-five years ago."). And she knows he's not going to forever define her by having hurt him ("You know I can't trust you because you lied to me that time twenty-five years ago."). But to get to forgiveness she has do her part. She has to acknowledge that he’s been hurt, she has to work to help him recover, and she has to promise not to willfully repeat the injury in the future.

Sometimes the person who needs forgiveness is you. Many people, for instance, carry shame and guilt over a failed marriage, or a lost job, or a blown diet. “If only I had…If only I had been…If only I hadn’t…” is a constant refrain. Yet, this song is an oldie. It has a good beat, and you can dance to it. But it's the same old song and dance. Singing it keeps us firmly in the past. When where we've got to live is in the now.

Forgiving ourselves – acknowledging what happened, how it impacted us then and now – and moving to the point where our perceived shortcomings no longer fuel our decision-making or define who we are, is the key to living in the present. And living happily. This may require therapy to understand how we hurt ourselves in the past and to work through the issues so that we don’t continue to hurt ourselves in the future.

Viktor Frankl, noted psychiatrist and author of the classic Man’s Search for Meaning, founded an innovative school of psychology called “logotherapy”, which holds that if people have meaning and conscience in their lives then they are more apt to be successful. This idea underpins much of modern psychological thought and took mental health into new and productive areas.

Now for the reveal. Frankl developed his theories while imprisoned in Auschwitz. Man’s Search for Meaning details the suffering, deprivation and humiliation the men and women in the camp endured. It was unlike anything most of us have seen. No one should experience such inhumanity.

Although Frankl’s experience in Auschwitz birthed the most significant work of his life, Frankl didn’t appear to define himself by the time in the camp – rather, he defined himself by his work, his life.

He became bigger than what he had suffered.

And that’s the promise of forgiveness. You can become bigger than your hurt. With forgiveness you can leave the wound in the past and be your best self. And you can start right now.

Feeling Unlovable and Unworthy

What I'm about to write is not about me. It's about you. And you. And you. And the several women I spoke to last week. It's about everyone who's ever been through a breakup. It's about all of us.

When a person feels as though they are unlovable and not worthy of being cared for, they will engineer situations where that attitude is reinforced.

It may not be conscious. It may be sub-conscious. But they will go to lengths to reinforce their internal framework, best summarized as: I am a loser.

These folks will sabotage, will double-deal, will manipulate. Whatever it takes to reinforce their fundamental, underlying belief -- I am no good.

They will also tell you whatever you want to hear -- just so you pay them some attention, and, perhaps, remind them what a loser they truly are. It's extremely potent when your healing begins -- and they look at you getting stronger. Your strength completely reinforces their underlying belief: "what a loser I am because I can't do what she's doing!" Your dawning strength is a threat -- and not a motivator for them to step up to the plate and begin their own healing. Oh, it's so much easier to pretend everything is absolutely hunky-dory than to develop insight into your own behavior and motivations!

After a divorce is an especially vulnerable time for folks, especially when one partner is crushed and the other is the crusher. The crusher may do something like say, "I'm not sure I've done the right thing" after he's married his lover; or, she might pour out her heart after breaking up with her affair partner. Later, you find out the lover is pregnant, or the much touted break up never happened.

It was a lie designed to create connection between crusher and crushed.

Yes, it's duplicity. Yes, it's hurtful. And, yes, it happens.

My theory is this: the crusher gets something from his/her relationship with the crushed person. Perhaps the relationship reminds him/her that he is no good. Perhaps watching the crushed one heal is too much. Perhaps the crushed one will grow up and away from the crusher -- that can't happen! Who will remind him/her that he's a jerk? A loser? A worthless human specimen?

Because, guess what? He is desperately trying to convince his current partner that he's flawless. Wonderful. Hunky-dory.

So the crusher keeps the crushed one "on a string", saying just enough to keep him/her involved. Giving just enough clues to keep hope alive, even if the crushed one knows deep down that she's better off without the crusher in her life.

It's a tantalizing game of cat and mouse, in which the feelings and needs of the crushed one are of no moment. It's, once again, all about the crusher.

Crushed people can find themselves in an unenviable position of being the third wheel in the new relationship between the crusher and the lover. Often, the new relationship is balanced by the mere presence of the former spouse. "If it weren't for (fill in the ex-spouse's name), everything would be perfect!" This fiction allows the new couple to defer addressing all the issues in their own relationship by focusing on the Evil Former Spouse. It's more hunky-dory.

If I had a dollar for every new partner who conspiratorially said to me, "Well, you know, her former husband was gay/impotent/an alcoholic/abusive" or "His ex-wife just gave up on sex/is a gold digger/is overprotective of the kids/is lazy and doesn't want to work", I would be a wealthy woman living a life of ease. [On an island in the Pacific. With a pina colada in one hand. Laying in a hammock. Swaying in the breeze...Oh -- am I off on a tangent? Pardon me. It's that time of year.]

Carl Jung famously posited that we each have a light and a dark, or "shadow", side. The shadow is that part of our Self which makes us feel uncomfortable or embarrassed. When a relationship starts as an affair, often the "shadow" of society's opinion of infidelity is too much for the new couple to bear. So, they ignore it and find plenty of stuff to lay at the feet of the former partner. Which allows the new couple to mosey along, burdenless. Hunky-dory.

Or so they think. Remember: what you resist, persists.

Sometimes crushed people hold out hope against hope that the crusher will "wake up" and come back. Honey, if their fundamental belief remains "I am a worthless loser", coming back will be no relief to anyone.

In the last week, I've had several clients who have allowed themselves to be hurt by staying engaged with their crusher. It's heartbreaking. And it's very, very human.

Thinking about how it feels to be manipulated may help crushed people become more resolute. No more studying tea leaves to figure out what's really going on. No more surmises about his intentions. No more Nancy Drew (or Frank and Joe Hardy). When someone who finds him/herself fundamentally worthless tells you they love someone else -- regardless of what comes after that part of a sentence -- move on. Take anything else they say with a grain of salt. Or maybe a shaker of salt.