I actually still physically brace myself to get yelled at.
I can relate to this to infinity.
Changing that reaction took some counter-intuitive action on my part.
It all started with a jelly glass. Not sure even why I had said jelly glass because all my tableware is thick, heavy, usable after the apocalypse style from CratenBarrel. Uniformity comforts me.
Anyway, I dropped the glass, is shattered and I stood in my kitchen, looking at my broken glass, waiting for someone to hit me. I should mention that I was something like 42 when this happened. As I stood their shaking, and then noticing the shaking, a weird feeling came over me. I reached up into the cupboard, pulled out another glass and, without thinking, slammed it to the floor.
My glass. My floor. My adulthood. My choice.
Since then, when I break something, or have that 'just about to get hit' feeling, I say in a kind voice, "Oh Sweetie, it's okay."
It took practice, but that behavior is now just as deeply ingrained as the old fear response was.
It's all about repetition...which is how you learned anything and can now learn new things.
Pretty, pretty corsets.
I'm half way to my weight goal (15 down 15 to go...maybe 20). Perhaps I will entertain the idea of a corset when I get there.
I know Pix, who is roughly my height, looks great in a corset. I wonder if a thicker, short woman might not end up looking like a badly cases sausage. We'll have to see.
Oooh, I like the turquoise stripe one. [link]
And I'm not interested in the whole tightlacing/waist reduction thing
I am! I've always had a belly, even when I was thin. If I knew how to do the whole tightlacing/waist reduction thing I totally would. Better than liposuction.
I actually still physically brace myself to get yelled at.
Tim has *never,* EVER yelled at me, called me stupid or other names, or otherwise engaged in that kind of behavior. Ever. And after 5 years (3 of them living together), I *still* expect to get excoriated for mistakes.
I say that *not* to blame my mom -- I'm almost 40, and I'm trying really hard to own my shit, and while she might be the source of that shit, it's up to me how to deal with it as an adult -- but just to marvel over how goddamned ingrained it is.
I'm nodding like crazy.
My glass. My floor. My adulthood. My choice.
Since then, when I break something, or have that 'just about to get hit' feeling, I say in a kind voice, "Oh Sweetie, it's okay."
I've done a lot of work--reading, counseling. All that plus being an actual parent taught me that children who were badly or inadequately parented have to learn to parent themselves. To repattern those bad patterns.
Cordelia was right, "Spank your inner moppet," or comfort, bolster, support her, help her or him become a functioning adult. And if at all possible, remove contempt for anyone from the equation. Justified, directed, purposeful anger is useful. Contempt is not.
Also, they made that cherry corset just for Steph.
Wow Bonny. I can totally see how you make a good life coach. (Not that I haven't seen examples before. But this is just such a distillation of your ability to handle stuff.)
Just popping in here to state how much I'm looking forward to flying home tomorrow.
I'll bet you are looking forward more to being home than flying home.
children who were badly or inadequately parented have to learn to parent themselves. To repattern those bad patterns.
Cordelia was right, "Spank your inner moppet," or comfort, bolster, support her, help her or him become a functioning adult. And if at all possible, remove contempt for anyone from the equation. Justified, directed, purposeful anger is useful. Contempt is not.
Beverly, you could totally do my job.
Wow Bonny. I can totally see how you make a good life coach. (Not that I haven't seen examples before. But this is just such a distillation of your ability to handle stuff.)
Thank you so much for the kind works, Typo. I feel pretty blessed.
I'll bet you are looking forward more to being home than flying home.
This is true. I get a whole week and a half at home before my next flight.
