Tag: child

Don’t Repeat Your Past

On By JenniferOzgurIn Health, Love, Relationships, Uncategorized, ValidationLeave a comment

If you’ve watched enough news commentary on any media channel, you’ve most likely heard the some variation of the adage, “Those who fail to learn from history are doomed to repeat it.”

This sentiment is especially true about relationships.  There may or may not be a genetic component to dysfunction, but it certainly is hereditary.

If your goal is to have a emotionally healthy relationship with anybody, you have to do a lot of work on yourself.  I say this because I firmly believe that it’s impossible to have a healthy dynamic with anybody until you have a healthy relationship with yourself.  It all comes down to self esteem.

If you don’t have the ability to love yourself, you cannot truly love someone else.  We first get our ability to love ourselves from our family of origin.  We develop our sense of Self from our initial care givers.  We learn what type of World it is “out there” by the people who first create the environment we explored as babies and toddlers.

It’s a deep concept, but if you are still operating as an adult based upon your first three years, then you are letting your inner child still cry for validation, and that is NOT a good way to deal with anybody.

Child development experts say that 80% of our psyche is created in the first three years of our lives and we spend the REST of our lives developing the remaining 20%.  Sometimes, we have to go back to our past to retrain that 80% to instill in us the confidence, security and sense that we are valued as a person.  We have to heal that inner child so we are no longer operating from a repressed toddler temper tantrum.

How to do that?  There’s tons of books out there to help you, but what worked for me is to list all the stuff that I didn’t like about my present life and work it backward.  How did I get there?  How is what’s going on today ultimately linked to my past?  And how is that linked to my parents?  I also learned about THEIR pasts and understood what motivated THER behaviors as well.  Think of it as a Freudian Family Tree…  only the descendants are maladjustments to one’s surroundings.

I’ll give you just one small example of the insights I got from doing my work: decisions.  I’m very bad at making them.  Mainly because my father was hyper critical when I was growing up and I learned that whatever I DID do was probably wrong.  Therefore, any choices I was faced with as an adult was met with a lot of anxiety on my part because I did not want to repeat that feeling I had as a child of doing something wrong, thereby confirming that my father (and later on, peers) were actually right: that I was a deeply flawed human being.  Therefore, any time I was faced with making any type of choice, I’d have a meltdown.  I remember crying in the mall because I needed shoes but couldn’t decide between the black or brown ones.  I left in tears with nothing.

Or I’d get myself so worked up when someone would ask me, “What do you want to do for dinner tonight” and I’d just say, “Nothing,” just to avoid making a decision- I couldn’t possibly articulate my needs because I didn’t even know what they were.  So then the well-adjusted person would actually believe me… and do nothing!  I’d then feel invalidated and spin things around on THEM and make them out to be the enemy… only because they put me in the position that reminded me of being a kid, and I had cast them in the role of my father.  I’d be triggered as an abuse survivor and I’d be lashing out at a friend and they were like, “What the heck?  I was just trying to be nice to her!”

Pretty messed up, huh?  Now imagine if I had pulled that illogical nonsense with my child…  But people do that all the time.  And so the cycle continues.

So it’s ESSENTIAL to really examine your behavior, identify patterns and figure out the causes so you do not operate from a position of dysfunction and inability to regulate your emotions; otherwise you will take all your baggage and pack it even tighter for your loved ones and they will be stuck carrying that heavy load and somehow believe that they asked for it and deserved it.

Imagine a happy childhood, how yours was not, and make the changes you need to make so you can give to your child what you did not get from your own caregivers when you were a kid.

Sometimes, your 153Promise can be in the form of loving your own inner child so you can do the same with the next generation.

It’s Never Too Late! Part One

On By JenniferOzgurIn Health, Love, Relationships, Uncategorized, Validation1 Comment

This is the companion post to “It’s Never Too Early.”

Yesterday, I had posted about making the commitment to love your child even before your child is born; you can begin to prepare to start the journey of “One Million Kisses” way before the birth of your child.  But what if that ship has said long ago and you already have a child- be it a toddler, teen or adult?  Today, I am focusing on how to start the “Kissing Kounter” TODAY and make the 153Promise to that person before you go to sleep tonight!

I’m not planning to use this site as a space to vent about my own personal issues, but this is a time where I think it’s important to use my life as an example: I grew up in dysfunction.  Granted, it wasn’t all bad- we had food and shelter.  We went to church on Sunday and out for dinner after.  My parents gave me music lessons and went to all of my concerts.  But I was not thriving.  I was not getting the kind of love I needed.  (I posted what my definition of love a few days ago… scroll down if you need.)

Here’s my childhood in a nutshell-

Mom and Dad constantly fought.  My dad was very demonstrative, and my mother was extremely submissive.  I’d witness him saying horrible things to her to the point where she’d cry.  When you are a little girl, your mother is your world.  You are an extension of her.  So if SHE’s crying, it’s like the universe is ending.

Once I got older, I became part of his wrath.  He’d work at his job (he never really told me what he did there), come home and go on a war path.  I remember hearing the gravel on the driveway pop underneath his tires and my mother saying to me, “Quick- your father’s home,” which basically meant “Don’t give your father a reason to yell.”  This meant scrambling to clean up the house in 30 seconds before he came though the door.  I have memories of my hair being yanked right out of my scalp as he led me around the house, rubbing my head in any items that were not put away.  Like a dog.  One image remains burned in my mind.  It was a wash cloth at the bottom of the shower.  I hadn’t wringed it up to dry.  I don’t know which was worse: my father bellowing my name as he shamed me, or my mother’s judgment when she said, “You think you’d learn by now.”

There’s many more instances I could site, but I think that’s enough to give you an idea of our home climate… And then I’d go to school…

Let’s just say that I was not one of the cool kids.  While my dad called me a jerk and a candy @$$ at home, my peers would bastardize my name so it had an unfortunate crude word in it.  My dad never bought me the cool clothes (a necessity in the yuppie 80s) and my mother used to cut my hair on the steps in the basement.  (Note to self- insert pictures of my awkward class pictures here.)  As a result of all of these social epic fails, I was at the bottom of the popularity food chain.  I was called “Freak.”  In fact, the greatest regret I have at that time period was the ONE time on the bus I was not the subject of teasing, I joined in on it.  So to the blonde-haired boy on the bus with me going to Fogelsville Elementary School in Orefield PA, I am sorry from the bottom of my heart.

My self esteem was on the floor.  All of this led to me being withdrawn.  It was a good day when I didn’t get noticed.  As a result, my grades began to suffer, despite me being in the “gifted/high potential” classes.  I was at the bottom of the top intellectually… It was a very weird experience.  I find myself wanting to chronicle all my pain, but I have to remember where all of this is going…

Cut to my senior year, right around this time- a few weeks before Christmas.  I had applied to college with no hopes of getting in.  (My father was a master at instilling fear.)  My 8 year old brother was also in the process of being diagnosed with leukemia- something I didn’t fully comprehend at the time.  At a result, I had a meltdown.  I had what can possibly be described as a temporary psychotic break.  I like to call it my “Freak of the Week.”  All my pent up anxiety came loose at once.  It’ll make for a great post one day!

A few months later, I was so depressed, I really didn’t care about living anymore.  I was in so much pain and I was so frustrated with my failed relationship with my parents, I just wanted to make some sort of statement to them.  I was angry, but I couldn’t possibly say anything because I had no voice at this point, so it had to be drastic.  I thought the best idea would be to kill myself so my suffering would be over, yet in a grand, poetic, ironic twist, their suffering would just begin.  My dad was a hunter, so he had guns.  I knew a shotgun would be clunky, so I went for the hand gun.  But before I actually went to do it, call it the Grace of God or just morbid curiosity, I went to the bathroom mirror just to see what my final moment of life would look like.

I realized that I looked REALLY stupid.  And then I realized that if I died, THEY would win.  I’d be dead, and they would survive.  So I made the decision that day to never give up on myself, even when the world certainly seemed to have given up on me.

Why am I telling you this?  Because despite ALL of that — plus more dramatic, dysfunctional crap I’ve had to deal with in my life — I have made peace with my father and we are okay.  We may not be super close, but we’re cool with each other.  Why?  Because it’s never too late.

*Next Post: How to start Day One of the 153Promise.