Recently the man that I have been seeing for about a year said to me that he didn’t understand why I was still with him. After all, saying that I am seeing him is more a figurative statement than an actual reality. The reality is that I have only seen him for a few hours over the past few months and that time has been mostly spent holding space for him to process his life situation, which has been spinning out with no sign of settling anytime soon. His statement hit me hard. This isn’t the first time a man has said this to me and it is far from the first time that I have held space and waited while my needs have been left unmet.
When I was around six months old, my parents divorced. I have no recollection of them being together, or of him living with us. There is one family portrait that was taken when my brother was a baby. My mom is holding him on her lap as my dad stands behind them with his arm around her, looking like the happy couple. It was taken a couple of years before I was born and there was never a family picture taken after I was born of us all together. My family, as I knew it, consisted of my mom and brother which to me nothing was perfectly normal. That all changed the day my friend asked me where my dad was. At seven years old this question was puzzling to me. I didn’t understand why she wanted to know or more importantly why it mattered. Looking back I realize that in the 70’s in small town Ohio, none of my friends had divorced parents. More concerning than the question itself was that I didn’t have an answer.
When I got home from school I asked my mom why dad didn’t live with us. As it turned out, my dad was an alcoholic and he had chosen to leave her for another woman rather than stay and help with the raising of my brother and me. He never paid child support and she had been left to care for us on her own. He wasn’t a bad person, my mom explained, just a victim of his alcoholism that he wasn’t strong enough to overcome the disease. She assured me that this was no reflection of me and that he loved me in his own way, but that he just had a hard time showing it. Satisfied with this story, I went on about my life, unconcerned about the fact that he wasn’t there. Unfortunately, this was not the end of this conversation.
The summer I turned 13 my brother returned home after living with my dad for 3 years. One afternoon he sat me down in our living room and proceeded to make a case for our dad. He shared with me that dad asked about me all the time and wanted to to be a part of my life and get to know me. The problem was that he was afraid that I didn’t want him around and this prevented him from reaching out. My brother assured me that dad loved me very much and urged me to consider giving the man a chance. he asked me to find it in myself to forgive him and to have compassion for his struggle with alcoholism. He thought I should reach out to him, to write him a letter since he was so afraid that I would reject him. In short, I needed to hold space for my dad.
This conversation led to the day when my Dad made arrangements to come see me. The plan was for him to pick me up from my grandparent’s house at noon so that we could spend some quality time together, just the two of us. Though I hadn’t realized that I wanted this connection, the thought of my dad wanting to spend time with me, filled me with all kinds of hope and expectations of the relationship to be. I had no concept of what that looked like, but I was willing to see what he had to say. Noon came and went and after hours of waiting, my Dad did not show up.
Convinced that something must have gone wrong, my Mom and brother went out to search for him. Hours later, they came back to report that they found him, drunk and regretful at the local bar. Apparently, too ashamed to come see he said that he couldn’t face under these conditions. I was asked again to understand his behavior as being nothing to do with me but to do with his alcoholism and again I was assured that he loved me but that he just wasn’t strong enough to show up.
There are countless books and articles written on the subject of the importance of the father/daughter bond and how it relates to her ability to have healthy relationships as an adult. I have always wondered what that means for someone whose father wasn’t present at all, but now I think that the real damage was created by being asked to accept his behavior. More importantly, even though they had good intentions, my mom and brother never asked me what I wanted or how I felt about having my dad in my life. The truth is that I didn’t want or need a relationship with my dad at the time, and honestly think I would have been better to be left alone. Instead, I learned to hold space for someone who should have been holding space for my development and also that my feelings and needs did not matter. Unfortunately, I was also learning that this was what love looked like. For me, Love was wrapped up in a box of unavailability and tied with a bow of excuses. All of which I accepted with a patient smile and endless understanding.
About a year ago I met a man on Facebook. We immediately hit it off, finding a shared sense of humor and playfulness that kept us in stitches of laughter for hours at a time. This humor gave birth to a friendship that bloomed quickly into a love affair like no other. Not only was he funny, smart, and quite handsome, this man actually showed up for me in ways I had never been showed up for before. For the first time since Scott had passed, I felt safe. Not only safe to be vulnerable but also safe to completely be myself. Finally an end to the excuses and unavailability, this man put me first and it felt wonderful.
A few months into the relationship, as often happens, reality reared its ugly head. His life situation became overwhelming and our relationship had to take a back burner while he worked to get his life in order. Over the past few months the relationship I once knew has slowly become a distant memory, and I find myself waiting for things to return to normal. So, when he said to me that he didn’t understand why I was still with him or how I was able to deal with the fact that he could not show up for me, I realized I was just doing what I was conditioned to do. The truth is, that I understand that his situation needs to take priority over our relationship. The problem is, that when he told me that I would probably be better off moving on with my life without him since he didn’t know if or when things would change, I didn’t move on. Instead, I dug in and held on for dear life to this man who had actually shown up for me. Holding onto hope that my patience and understanding would be enough. I thought that if I just gave him a chance things would turn around.
That is when it hit me. I recognized the familiar feeling of disappointment of the little girl waiting for her dad to finally show up. My dad died 10 years ago without ever showing up for me the way that I needed. Even though I understand and have compassion for the reasons he wasn’t there, it doesn’t mean that I don’t deserve to have someone show up for me in way that I need. It is ok for me to want that and until that happens I can do a better job of showing up for myself.
While I gave my attention to holding space and helping him work out his problems, I was setting my needs and feelings aside. I am learning that it is ok to take a break and be less available to him while I become more available to give myself the love and care I have been missing. As I place my energy into activities I enjoy, I am finding a renewed energy and hope.
I don’t know wether or not this relationship will return to what it once was or perhaps something better. However, I do know that my relationship with myself has been strengthened by getting quiet and holding space for my own healing. For that I am grateful.
