Fear of rejection, and the return to hope
I am finding that I have created and cultivated the most extensive and useful body of writing imaginable for my own healing and recovery, and it is the archives of my journal entries for the last 6 years, and today I was feeling a need to write about my sometimes paralyzing fear of intimacy, rooted in a deep fear of rejection, and this warm, soothing salve showed up right as I needed it. The triggering interest in the subject came up in a conversation with a friend late yesterday afternoon, where I stated that my experiences as a coach has taught me that people often feel (and unconsciously live) that "the best way to retaliate against your parents, with whom you might not have felt allowed or known how to communicate your pain and suffering as a child, was to totally fail at your life as an adult." Once spotting that unconscious strategy of vengeful retribution, there is hope for recovery in time for a great and purposeful life.
Fear of intimacy (from October, 2006)
"The simplest and most understandable way I have ever heard intimacy described is by breaking the word down into: into me I see. That is what intimacy is about - allowing another person to 'see into us,' sharing all of who we are with another person."
"Fear of intimacy is at the heart of co-dependency. We have a fear of intimacy because we have a fear of abandonment, betrayal, and rejection. We have these fears because we were deeply wounded in early childhood - we experienced feeling emotionally abandoned, rejected, and betrayed by our parents or siblings because they were equally, if not more wounded. They did not have healthy relationship with self - they were codependents who abandoned and betrayed themselves - and their behavior invited us to feel equally unworthy and unlovable."
"As children we were incapable of seeing ourselves as separate from our families - of knowing we had worth as individuals apart from our families. The reality we grew up in was the only reality that we knew. We thought our family's behavior reflected our worth - the same way that our codependent parents thought our behavior was a factor in whether they had any worth."
"Sharing who we are is a problem for codependents because at the core of our relationship with ourselves is the feeling that we are somehow defective, unlovable, and unworthy - because of our childhood emotional trauma. Codependency is rooted in our ego programming from early childhood. That programming is a defense system that the ego adapted to help us survive. It is based upon the feeling that we are shameful, that we are defective, unworthy, and unlovable. Our codependent defense system is an attempt to protect us from being rejected, betrayed, and abandoned again because of our unworthy, shameful being."
"We have a fear of intimacy because we were wounded, emotionally traumatized, in early childhood - felt rejected and abandoned - and then grew up in emotionally dishonest societies that did not provide tools for healing, or healthy role models to teach us how to overcome that fear. Our wounding in early childhood caused us to feel that something was wrong with our being - so-called 'toxic shame' - and our societal and parental role models taught us to keep up appearances, to hide and protect our shamefulness from others."
"As long as we are reacting unconsciously to our childhood emotional wounds and intellectual programming, we keep repeating the same patterns. We keep getting involved with and triggering people who are stuck in their own 'unavailability,' calling forth their worst patterns to dance with ours, rather than encouraging and inviting and welcoming their best. We keep setting ourselves up to be abandoned, betrayed, and rejected, because that's what we know so well. We keep looking for love while at the same time sabotaging it as any possibility shows up. Is it any wonder we have a fear of intimacy?"
-- Robert Burney
Burney goes on to say that we are not being "punished" by difficult relationships - we are being "educated" by them and invited into freedom. And if we can treat them as important lessons being taught to us, rather than ghoulish nightmares being perpetrated on us, there are amazing shifts that can occur in these difficult relationships. When I am being treated as an enemy by someone else, or when I'm feeling condemned or judged as dangerous or harmful to them, I know that I can act much differently than my true nature - that I can actually feel a strong tug to "fit the mold" that has been prepared for me - like a self-fulfilling prophecy. Doesn't it make sense that others who I struggle with would feel the same about how I act around them or what I do to protect myself, and that if I could shift my attitude and behavior to ones of greater generosity and understanding, that I might see a natural softening and a return to the other's person's true nature. And that the more we become intimate with and learn about the inner workings of ourselves, and learn to accept and honor these things about ourselves, thereby freeing us to choose behaviors more effectively, the more intimate and powerful our relationships with others become, especially in the breakthroughs in the really difficult ones.
Intimacy, life, and love truly are creative acts. We must get to the place of seeing that our pain and shame and struggles are actually created and kept alive in our minds as we feed them. They are not real, but only illusions, made up from things that happened in the past that we didn't fully understand. Our ability to create with love, aligned with the awesome creation of our amazing Creator, is unleashed to the extent that we can get to "nothing" - meaning that nothing that slows or stops us is even real. With this newfound freedom, we're unleashed to get intimate with all of life, which is the most delicious dance imaginable.
And not to belabor the point, but as I said last week, today is the actual date of my father's death three years ago, and this is a very important day in a man's life - the day his father dies. My father, like so many fathers of the men of my generation, was not a man who taught me about openness, love, intimacy, and deep connection when I was growing up. In fact, he was not very compassionate, pleasant, warm and fuzzy at all, and I did not feel very lovable and/or worthy in his presence most of the time, especially when I hadn't gotten things quite right. As a boy, I knew him as distant and distracted at times, angry and very scary at others. I was downright afraid of him during those times and came to resent him quite a bit as I grew into early adulthood, and it limited and twisted the first half of my life accordingly. While trying not to be like him, I duplicated him just about perfectly for my boys, I'm sure, but we grew painfully through that about a dozen years ago, in the midst of great turmoil and upset. It only took me until I was about 40 to see it. I've always been a slow, but steady learner.
Letting go of the childhood lessons I learned from a man who was just really hurting himself was the key to my future well-being, as well as being able to look at the many messes I created all on my own, while "blaming" my life's hardships and struggles on him, and from there we could grow toward instead of further away from each other with a sense of deep empathy. And with each passing year it got better and better, and it peaked right at the time of his death, and I learned that none of my capacity to connect with others and love deeply was ever really about him, and by my freeing him from the burden of my pain, God freed me from the burden of his, giving me greater ongoing access to the love and intimacy we both felt at the end.
Learning intimacy with my Dad (which strangely continues to grow after his death), which was previously the scariest place to go in my life, proved to be the doorway to the greatest lesson of my life. I miss him today, although I feel him over my shoulder saying, "Keep growing and learning to love, Jim. It's such a big and complicated job, which you can never get quite right, but you're doing more than good enough, and I'm very proud of you."
And amazingly, this time from this same day in April of 2005 (and how cool is that):
"If you're fortunate enough to be so called and so guided, you come to a place in your life where you get to identify, understand, recover from, and make amends for the damage done by the strategy you chose to survive your early life, and at that point it becomes a God-given invitation, if not responsibility, to help other's see the damage being done to themselves and others by their own often-unconsciously-chosen survival strategies."
-- Yours Truly
"There are an infinity of angles at which one falls, and only one at which one stands."
-- G.K. Chesterton