Swimming Safely Through a Sea of Family Guilt
Guilt is one of those things I think you are born with in your blood. Either that or it is instilled in you at a very young age. I call guilt my family's foundation, an heirloom, a legacy. Although it may seem I am joking, I am actually quite serious. My family thrives on it. And now that I acknowledge and realize it, I must attempt the seemingly insurmountable task of overcoming it.
When I was pretty young, still in my single digits, somehow I got caught up in my family's finances. I realized that we operated on a limited budget. Not too limited, mind you. We were very fortunate. We were not hurting for food, for clothes, or a home. We still took vacations from time to time. We owned a boat and a house with a view of the Puget Sound and the Narrows Bridge. Yet somehow I became a money monitor and, even more surprising, my parents let me. Even when I was wearing overused hand-me-downs, I still felt guilty asking to spend money on things for myself. It wasn't necessary. I wasn't necessary.
I know you're probably thinking, poor poor middle-class child, didn't get all she wanted. That's not the point I'm trying to make. I know how fortunate I was. The lesser-addressed misfortune, evident in all social circumstances, was the legacy of guilt and its lasting psychological effects.
This attitude lent itself to Christmas and gift-receiving in a very odd way. If I received a gift that wasn't exactly what I wanted, I would feel guilty. Rather than graciously accepting, I would feel bad that the person got me something that wasn't what I either needed or wanted. One Christmas, I got a sapphire ring from my parents. I actually had the gall to ask if I could look around to make sure it was the one I wanted. It came off as ungrateful to be sure. But it was actually the by-product of a massive feeling of guilt, something I still carry around today.
My family wields it often:
"Amy, when are you coming home again (even though we've never been to see you)?"
"Amy, when are you having babies?"
"Amy, when are you moving back here (so we can be entertained by you even though you may want something different in your life)?"
These are the guilt traps set for me. But it is so much more than this. They set and live in traps made for each other, largely one of the reasons I am not so bothered by living far away. There is guilt over holiday time and travel, who has more money, who has more time, who takes more vacations, who works harder, who has more things, who pays more attention, who made the last phone call, etc, etc. When I go home to visit, I fall into the trap to be sure. I do the dishes at my parents house even when I eat at my sister's. I fill my dad's ice trays when he leaves them on the counter. I help where I can but it has come to be expected. So I fall victim to the guilt and self-created obligation.
This backfired the last time I was home. I woke up a little later than usual and was dragging a bit, thus had not done the dishes as has come to be expected. My dad got home from work for his daily lunch and nap, my mom at the same time. Upon entry into the house, my father goes on a passive aggressive rant about the dishes not being done. Ugh. I called him on it, much to his dismay, and earned his wrath. Because no one else does. He uses the guilt to his advantage. "Oh, I've worked so hard..." Like no one else does. Do your own damn dishes. Same with the ice trays. For years, when I've been home, I've filled his ice trays if he leaves them out on the counter. Last trip home, he rants out loud one afternoon about how someone overfilled them so they've stuck together. I've heard this complaint before. So I commented. Again, to a very unreceptive reception. But to others of my family, the guilt attack works. The guilt bomb. You didn't do it right, so I suffer and it's all your fault. No matter that someone was trying to do you a favor.
I've gotten this for my path in life too. To them, I am a failure. Because I am not yet president. Or at least a trackable "success." Since I was little, my dad has been wondering out loud when he will get to vacation at Camp David. Or when I might buy him a yacht or a house in the San Juans. Of course, note his disappointment when I majored in history and became a park ranger. For years, I was convinced my family thought I was destitute even though I worked for the federal government with benefits. Imagine their further dismay when I decided to pursue a career in music and songwriting followed by writing books. Risky to be sure. Foreign as well. But rather than just a lack of support, I don't even get questioned about it. Instead, they pull the guilt card out about me not having babies yet, something they can relate too.
The only redeeming feature in my family's eyes is my "solid" husband. He is a park ranger too. But rather than dismiss his career, they are fascinated by it. And when Jeff doesn't get a job so we can move nearer to them, it isn't his fault. Really, it's not. But somehow, I get a guilt bomb, like I did something to sabotage our chances. I don't understand this, why anyone would want their loved ones to feel bad or guilty or guilted into tasks, into love, into care. Through guilt, these things lose all purity.
So how do we swim through a sea of guilt? Through selfishness in the best way possible. Through realizing others hold only as much sway or power or influence as you allow them. Sometimes, this means through distance and disconnect, through realizing you are responsible for your happiness, which inherently means they are responsible for theirs as well. We can be good people, kind people, helpful people. But realize people must help themselves, including our families and ourselves. When we are children, we are inherently reliant. There is no guilt in that. Dismiss it. Don't allow others to hold that power over you. Because it has the power to keep you down, drag on, and diminish. Instead, be free. Keep trying to live in kindness and gratitude but also know that you have done your best. And you are free.