Although the statement “Turn that frown upside down” always repulsed me, I think it described my plan. From the start of our reunion twenty years ago, I thought that somehow I could learn to be patient enough, kind enough, and hang in long enough to change our reunion relationship to one of comfort and joy. Based on results, I’ve been wrong all along. Wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong.
My naïve and selfish desire to switch out her pain and avoidance through a welcoming embrace was doomed by shortsightedness. Fumbling through the rebirth of my aborted motherhood, I took her at her word instead of looking past the façade to the frightened child. I was “the adult”, but I didn’t act like it. I acted like the scared teenager. She was the scared teenager.
As it turns out, I’m not that patient or kind. I react and get my feelings hurt very easily. I get defensive and protective. I pretend that everything is fine when it’s not because I’m supposed to be the adult. I’m supposed to be ok. Instead I get scared and wish things would be easier. I get angry feeling I’m being pushed into a box, limited and judged. And I get tired of all of it.
What I understand is she is angry about the way I make me look good. Having goodness in my life is not the problem. The problem is that it’s “at (her) expense”. I need to accept my responsibility for our relationship. I can’t blame her for my troubles. It’s certainly not her fault when I don’t get what I want.
I am pretty accustomed to it, but you can’t always get what you want. It is NOT my daughter’s fault that our reunion has not been all peaches and cream.
Yikes. That old bugaboo of what I think I’m supposed to be (ie. the adult) is still fooling me! Good lord I AM an adult. This is what adult is. No wonder we’re in trouble.
I am still here though, warts and all. Although I do have an appt next month to get a few blemishes burned off.