I've been reading a great memoir lately by Jacki Lyden, an NPR anchor. It's called "Daughter of the Queen of Sheba" and tells of the author's childhood with a mentally ill mother and physically/verbally abusive step-father. It was published in 1997 when she was forty three years old. One piece in the book I've been thinking about relates to the physical abuse she began to receive from the step-dad when she was seven years old. He had been verbally abusing her and her sisters and one day he snuck up behind her, punched her in the back of the head, slamming her face on the sink and bloodying her teeth, all for not putting the cap back on the toothpaste tube.
Some sentences which I found fascinating:
"In this country there were fists. Coming at me always from behind, the fists, like snowballs, were random and impossible to predict, hitting the base of my skull where a blow would leave no bruise...Try again, I silently told him. Go ahead and do it again. He could not resist me, I was certain of that. We had formed a relationship at last. A blow. The absorption of a blow. A symmetry, he and I together....Only recently have I realized that not all men view pain as a part of love, the hardest blows a kind of bond, deeper and more intense than ordinary love." (p79)
As I read her words I thought of how the abuse she suffered at the hands of her step-dad includes principles of abuse patterns. These patterns translate to the molestation I endured at age seven. And as she strongly infers, childhood abuse often sends the victim into situations later in life which echo the initial trauma. Through being abused sexually, I too was in a "relationship" with the perpetrator long after the abuse occured. The baby-sitter who abused me regularly over several months time still haunts me in different ways. Her signature is a part of my sexuality. It is part of who I am. What she did to me when I was seven set me up to re-live the dynamic over and over until I could transform it. Whether I will completely transform the abuse or not I cannot say at this point. It could be that I will carry her signature with me in some way all the way through to the end of my life.
As I continue to read Jacki Lyden's memoir what I am fascinated to learn more about is what the author does to overcome the wounds she describes. What resources does she find in herself which show her the way through the pain and into a life which is not haunted by the painful experiences she describes? Has she found her way into relationships which are loving, satisfying and without any abusive edge? These are questions I am asking myself as I read on.
I have friends in the town where I grew up who were still going to strip clubs on a regular basis well into their 30s. They were on a first-name basis with several of the strippers when I went with them to their favorite club once about fifteen years ago. My life even then had already diverged so much from where it was heading in high school that I felt very awkward and out of place.
So what was in me that refused to go down the road of strip joints and porno flicks? Why do I have friends from my childhood who (at least ten years ago) were going to strip bars every weekend when I recoil from the thought? Why am I different? Perhaps a better question is "Why was I hanging out with friends in high school who were so different from who I am inside?" That's may be where my mom's mental illness plays in. If she had never had a mental illness she might have helped me to clarify my values at an earlier time. That may have led me to friendships with different kinds of people. Don't get me wrong--my friends from high school are not bad people. It's just that as time goes on the differences between us seem to be ever greater. We don't keep in touch.
As I finished high school my values were pretty confused. I didn't know what I stood for, if anything. By the time I was in my mid-twenties my values were beginning to become clearer to me. I imagine that my particular time-line with that is not so unusual.
I've found over time that I value monogamy as one of the pillars of a healthy long-term relationship. I have had to decide this, not as a given, but as a real choice. Our close family friend, a man who was like an uncle to me, very actively questioned the value of monogamy and, I believe, wanted to start a sexual relationship with me even though he was married and I was in a long-term relationship. When I felt his interest and saw signs that he was actively grooming me for a partner I strongly distanced myself from him and have been out of contact for several years now.
In my opinion, a big problem with my "uncle's" approach is that people end up seeing each other as physical beings and lose sight of the spirit which animates our bodies. My baby-sitter saw me as a "body", a thing which she could use at her will without any thought to the spirit which was trying, at age six, to inhabit the body. She just perceived me as physical matter, putty to play with, a dildo to pleasure herself with and then toss aside.
After she molested me she also did things to humiliate me or harm me. One time she pinned me down and farted right in my face. Another time I showed her a piece of art I had done and she responded, "You didn't do that--you're not good enough to do that." Now, a kid who had a positive self image might have heard a person say such a mean thing and say to himself, "Well, as a matter of fact I did do it, she clearly thinks it's well done, and so clearly she's just an asshole for saying such a mean thing." But my self image was so low at that time that I took what she in as "You're not good enough".
"You're not good at art and you're probably a failure as a person" is the message that slithered off of her tongue and crept into my psyche. I still carry that message as a voice inside of me even though I have done a great deal to counter it over the years. I still feel wounded by what she did to me and what she said to me. If you've read previous posts, you may remember that the molestation came at a time in my life with many other stressors. A few months later I would see my dad for the last time. And my mom, with untreated bipolar, was diving full-bore into a professional career and a workaholic lifestyle. After having about four years of "good enough parenting", ages five and six were telling me that I was, in many ways, on my own. And that the world, even inside my own home, was a very dangerous and unpredictable place.
Now, one might ask, "what's wrong with your "uncle's" approach? Why be such a prude and insist on monogamy? My answer is that, in my experience of observing such things, that the approach my "uncle" has taken has the very real potential of wreaking devastation in human lives. Treating others like they're only a body can easily have that outcome whether it is molestation or extra-marital affair. Obviously having an affair is not a criminal act, whereas molesting a child is. Nevertheless, tremendous damage can and does come out of both scenarios.
I see sexuality as a very powerful force. It's really a shame that we don't take it more seriously than we do. Honoring ourselves and our loved-ones by being monogamous allows us to build healthy families. Not doing so puts the well-being of our families at risk. When we see ourselves and each other essentially as spiritual beings, it seems to me that the conversation changes. There is a higher voice which shows us that the path of sexual discretion and honoring our partners is of infinitely greater value than sexual release with a person outside the primary relationship. If one has an intractable issue in the primary relationship, it should be resolved or the relationship ended, before taking up with a new partner.
A wonderful book my wife told me about many years ago is called "Embracing the Beloved: Relationship as a Path of Awakening" by Steven and Ondrea Levine. The authors lay out a possible path of what relationship can be when it is deeply in tune with one's spiritual life. Though I see myself as fairly challenged in the area of sexuality and relationships, this book was a help to me to see what is possible when our higher Mind is sitting in the director's chair. My hope is that as I continue to heal the wounds I still carry with me every day, that my re-reading of this terrific book will help me to take further steps in deepening my relationship with my wife.
What I have learned is that by setting an intention, an ideal, as a goal to strive for can be very helpful. I have only been able to achieve small elements of the path the Levines describe. And yet, taking small steps over a period of time can yield very real results. Even though the road ahead of me has plenty of stuff for me to work out, I can nevertheless be proud of the work I have done so far.
A key aspect of my spiritual path is looking at process, my own and that of others. I believe we are all in a process which gradually unfolds over time and that each step is usually influenced by the voice of our higher nature as well as that of our lower nature. Each choice we make can lead us a little toward one or the other. I can safely say that my trend in choices over the past fifteen years is leading me to a much happier life today than had I listened to my "uncle" who was encouraging me to "play the field".
For me, in my life, it really couldn't be any clearer.
Your comments are welcome.
Warmly, Ben
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