by Peg Streep
You prefer short-term connections, even hookups, to intense relationships: The true avoidant prefers relationships that aren’t intimate or close. You’re often attracted to people who aren’t available—because they’re married or live across the country or are otherwise off limits (like your girlfriend’s boyfriend). When you’re in a new relationship, you tend to idealize an old one which you left because the grass is somehow always greener where you’re not. Dismissive-avoidants may sometimes be in relatively long-term relationships but maintain their independence and back off from commitment; they don’t want to move in with their lovers because they need their own space; they don’t like long-term plans or anything else that sounds as though they’re in it for the long haul. If you’re a true dismissive-avoidant, the “work” of making a relationship succeed is not your thing because, at the end of the day, you don’t think closeness is all that important.
You have different ways of pushing your partner off: If you’re dismissive, you get claustrophobic easily and quickly. When you’re involved with someone, there’s always something missing—he’s not smart, polished, or ambitious enough—and that makes you sure that there’s someone better for you out there. The avoidant is quick to come up with a list of flaws about her partner, is always on the lookout for greener pastures, and often, she will head out for them. Avoidants are not good candidates for Fidelity of the Year awards, as the next trait makes clear.
You like sex but hate to cuddle: One study showed that the dismissive-avoidant has sex for very different reasons than either the fearful-avoidant or even the anxiously attached. Let’s start with the anxiously attached: She understands having sex as a validation of her being loved. Alas, this is actually not so great since, at its best, sex is about the dyad: your needs and desires, and his needs and desires. Not happening: The anxious girl is in bed to be loved. The fearful-avoidant falls into much the same trap; again, all me and no dyad and then she panics. And then there is the dismissive. She is just there for the sex. Does it surprise you that these avoidants tend to cheat? That’s exactly what one study showed. The truth? Commitment, the need for closeness, and valuing the intimate ties we have are all that keeps us at home in bed and not elsewhere; this avoidant lacks all three.
You’re proud of not needing emotional support or closeness: If this is you, I think you know who you are. Yes? The real question is whether you want to stay that way.
While the focus in this chapter is on you and your behaviors, in the next one we’ll be looking at the partners and friends you choose. Not surprisingly, attachment styles play an enormous role in this part of your life as well.
DISCERNING YOUR PATTERNS OF BEHAVIOR AND THEIR POINTS OF ORIGIN
Remember that insecure styles of attachment grow out of coping mechanisms adopted during childhood to deal with the stresses of the familial environment; rather than feel the repeated sting of her emotional needs not being met, the insecurely attached daughter usually distances herself emotionally in order to self-soothe and to protect herself. Using cool processing—thinking about why you felt as you did, not what you felt—and seeing yourself as if from a great distance, think about your childhood self and your mother’s treatment of you. Focus on how you protected yourself and coped.
Keep in mind that the more aggressive your mother’s behaviors were and the more abusive her treatment—especially if your mother was controlling, combative, or dismissive—the more likely it is that you will have adopted some kind of self-armoring in order to defend yourself. In a similar way, consider the degree to which your view of the world is one as a possibly threatening place, where the default position for people isn’t decent behavior but potential antagonism or some kind of duplicity. With that in mind, think about your own attitudes, especially under stress:
♦ Are you likely to jump to conclusions about people’s motives and intentions? Do people sometimes say that you’re making a mountain out of molehill? Are you?
♦ When you get into a disagreement with someone, is it important to you that there be a clear winner? Or are you capable of settling your contentions with give-and-take? Are you likely to give people the benefit of the doubt, or do you think that makes you seem weak?
♦ Do you worry about people taking advantage of you? If so, why?
♦ When someone apologizes to you, are you able to put whatever happened between you aside or do you always hold a grudge?
♦ How sensitive to criticism are you? Are you able to tolerate constructive criticism, or does any criticism feel like a put-down?
♦ Are you happier being by yourself because dealing with other people is ultimately just a hassle?
The children of mothers with less aggressive styles of interaction or who withdrew from emotional connection or withheld affection—who are emotionally unavailable, for example—will have very different kinds of defense mechanisms and, not surprisingly, different views of the world. If your mother’s behaviors—her treatment of you, her responsiveness—were distant and unconnected, ask yourself the following questions as you consider how her behaviors limned yours.
♦ Do you always expect people to disappoint you, whether it’s at work, in friendship, or in an intimate relationship?
♦ Are you uncomfortable being alone? Do you know how to entertain yourself and feel good about yourself when no one else is around?
♦ Do you have trouble saying no to people and then feel put upon when you’ve done what they’ve asked?
♦ Do you require a great deal of reassurance from people you’re close to?
♦ How often do you fight with intimate partners or close friends? Do you consider yourself quick to anger, or do you think you’re pretty even tempered?
♦ Are you able to set boundaries in relationships, giving yourself and the other person space? Or does your own neediness drive some people away?
♦ Do you feel inadequate much of the time? If so, how does that affect your behavior?
RECOGNIZING THE WOUNDED SELF
One of the paradoxes of this journey is that it’s hard for all of us to see the ways in which we’ve been wounded. To begin with, seeing the initial wound—that we were unloved and our needs were not met—is hard enough, requiring us to dismantle the tunnel vision of what we considered normal, the cultural onus, our desperate need to belong, and, yes, our hopefulness that we’ll just wake up one day and it’ll all be magically fixed.
Then there’s the problem of seeing ourselves clearly. Every person on the planet finds this task challenging, but the lucky ones are those who see the parts of themselves that are hidden from view—both the good and the bad—reflected in the mirrors that intimate relationships provide. This, too, is a challenge for many unloved daughters.
But piece by piece, bit by bit, we can clear away the debris left behind by childhood and polish our own inner mirrors to catch a glimpse of the girls we were, the women we are, and the women we want to become.
CHAPTER FIVE
FLASHES OF RECOGNITION: PATTERNS AND PARTNERS
I’ve been in one lousy relationship after another, including two marriages. I was miserable and unheard. But it didn’t occur to me that this had anything to do with my mother or my childhood until recently. I considered myself unlucky, and no more than that. Can you imagine? I turned 46 and finally sought counseling and discovered that what I thought I’d left behind was still with me .
~Ellie
O ften the first insights a daughter has into how she’s been affected by her childhood experiences are gleaned from the relationships she chooses to be in. This self-knowledge can begin to emerge in late adolescence, young adulthood, or later adulthood. These perceptions aren’t always welcome because they deny what she believes or what she wants to believe. She may think her childhood is behind her because she’s growing up at one point, and fully adult and out of the house at another, but she’s wrong. Her ties to her family of origin may be weak, frayed, or nonexistent so she figures she’s out of there, but in an important
sense, she’s not.
It’s at this moment that we start distinguishing : recognizing the patterns of behavior we adopted in childhood and seeing how they play out in our adult relationships. These relationships exist across a spectrum of closeness from strangers to acquaintances to friends to close friends and intimate partners, lovers, and spouses. Our growing understanding of how we’re connecting to others may add to our malaise and unhappiness at first because it underscores that we’re still not free of our mothers’ influence. But while it may feel like a step backward, it’s actually a necessary stride forward.
Until we’re aware that we are driven and attracted to others by unconscious patterns, we’re not likely to connect the dots and see how our choices and actions in the present are connected to our childhood experiences. Sometimes, we stumble upon the truth because we start seeing patterns in failed relationships as we register that we’re attracted to the same types of partners again and again, with the same unhappy-making results. They may be people who are controlling or withholding, ones who require being “won over” in some way just as our mothers did, or they may be unreliable. We may find ourselves in a series of relationships, either romantic or not, that reveal our chosen person to be high in narcissistic traits or emotionally withheld. We may find ourselves surrounded by people who criticize and marginalize us as we were criticized and marginalized in childhood. It’s only then that we begin to distinguish the echo effect of our childhoods.
This is what Lily, 41, wrote about why it was hard to see the patterns: “My first husband was outwardly nothing like my mother; he was gregarious, accomplished, witty, and well read. He courted me with flowers and surprise gifts, and I fell hard. He seemed to want to protect and care for me. I felt supported and like I’d found my prince. But after we married, I realized he was controlling, not caring. He bossed me around very openly, put me down if things weren’t done his way, dismissed my feelings and thoughts. I started having panic attacks as I had when I was a kid. My doctor sent me to a therapist, and guess what? I’d managed to recreate my childhood by focusing on the external ways my husband was different. I was lucky to get help and luckier still to have left.”
Strategies we unconsciously adopted in childhood to manage our feelings—yes, attachment styles—can animate our connections to other people in broad ways. They shape how we react to a boss’s criticism or to a challenge posed. They’re present when we meet someone new or when we’re with an old acquaintance. They affect how we deal with crisis and stress. Unperceived, they may isolate us and stop us from getting the love and support we’ve always craved.
THE PROBLEM WITH FRIENDSHIP
My own neediness trips me up in friendship. I’m always the pleaser with girlfriends. I give 100 percent and they give 10 percent, and I feel angry and used. It happens again and again, and it never stops surprising me .
~Patti, 57
Unloved daughters often have trouble choosing and making female friends, and for some, this remains a lasting problem. It may come down to trust: If the first female in your life was emotionally untrustworthy, can any woman be? This, too, can become a terrific deficit in a daughter’s life since research shows that having close friends correlates with psychological health throughout the lifespan and, perhaps most important to these daughters, can imbue them with the sense of belonging they lack. Additionally, friends can act as role models to emulate, close advisors and confidantes, supporters and cheerleaders—which everyone needs, especially these daughters. Friendships are particularly important in times of stress and transition. Not surprisingly, that’s what a study of first-year college students conducted by Vanessa M. Buote and others found: that those who were open to friendships and achieved them did better. In truth, we probably didn’t need a study to confirm that.
The tenor of her friendships or the lack of them in a daughter’s life may also provide the first inklings of how broadly her childhood has affected her. That was the case for Jamie: “I was pretty much a loner in my small high school. I figured I just didn’t fit into any of the cliques that dominated the social scene. I wasn’t popular or an athlete, or a Goth or into music so there didn’t seem to be a place for me socially, but I didn’t care. I was convinced college would be different and, on the surface, it was. I had roommates, suitemates, and, when I joined the newspaper, what seemed to be a ready-made group I could belong to. But it didn’t take long for me to realize that I couldn’t do the kind of intimate sharing and chitchat my suitemates did, sitting around in their sweats and PJs, telling stories. I froze. I didn’t know what to say. Should I share how my mother yelled at me all the time and my dad went out to bars alone? So I sat there. The newspaper group was fine when we were working, but when people tried drawing me out, I froze again. I think they thought I was stuck up. Junior year, I was so depressed that I went to a therapist and a light bulb went off in my head.”
Jamie, though, was relatively lucky because she was on to the problem by the time she was 20, and got help for herself. Many daughters don’t see themselves clearly enough to understand why friendship is such a challenge; they’re still having trouble distinguishing the patterns and not seeing cause and effect. What you didn’t learn in childhood—how to set and maintain healthy boundaries, how to keep yourself on an emotional even keel, how not to be overreactive or super-sensitive to the stray remark, how to trust—all plays out in female friendship and gets in the way. “I think it’s exhausting to be my friend,” Robin, 39, admitted. “I forget that other people need space and it’s hard for me to ramp down my neediness. I think I demand too much of everyone and that’s why I have trouble keeping close friends. I’m going to have to teach myself how to do ‘give-and-take,’ you know. It’s something I don’t really know how to do.”
But the ability to distinguish these patterns is also affected by the code of silence. It, too, must be dragged into the open and understood for the groundwork of healing and recovery to be laid.
UNDERSTANDING THE EFFECT OF THE CODE OF SILENCE
Who would have believed me? My mother was a pillar of the community, well regarded. She was careful not to let outsiders see her screaming rages, or the way she picked on me relentlessly. I didn’t want anyone to know either. I was deeply ashamed and afraid .
~Erica, 43
As discussed in the second chapter , a key common experience is the sense of being singled out, of being the only unloved child in the world. I have said here and elsewhere that I have come to believe that this feeling of aloneness, of separateness from others, is actually as damaging to the unloved daughter as the absence of maternal love. Beginning in childhood and continuing even into adulthood, most of these daughters bear the awful burden of thinking that they’re the only ones affected in this way. Their hurt is amplified by a code of silence that surrounds this taboo subject. And they tend to keep silent themselves. Why is that?
The reasons vary according to the daughter’s stage of life. In childhood, there are three reasons a daughter keeps her silence. The first is that little girls learn about the myths of motherhood—that all mothers are loving and more—and believe them. Of course, if all mothers are loving and she’s unloved, there has to be something terribly wrong with her for things to be the way they are. She understandably feels ashamed, and her unloving mother becomes the big secret the child feels she has to keep to herself. If she doesn’t, she might end up being even more alone. The second is that a child’s world is very small, and it’s ruled by her mother, whom the child has made Queen because she needs her love and approval so badly. Her mother is also the last word on how the events in that little world are to be understood: “You were naughty so I had to punish you” or “Good girls don’t break things, but you did” or “My life would be so much better if you were like your sister.” These statements or variations on them shame the child and underscore her sense of unworthiness and inability to do anything right. She despairs of ever getting her mother to love her and worries that, maybe, her mother is rig
ht about her and then no one will ever like or love her. That’s a good incentive to keep your silence. The third is her mother’s enforcement of the code. Most of these mothers care about appearances, worry about what other people think, and need admiration—and all of that makes them invested in keeping what goes on at home under wraps. Many unloving mothers make sure their daughters look and sound good in public, and they pay attention to behaving lovingly in public, which is all the more confusing to a child. Who will ever believe her if she tells?
In adolescence and adulthood, the daughter may stay silent for many reasons, the most important of which is that her need for her mother’s love remains unabated, and she’s still trying desperately to win it. Confrontation—articulating what’s never been acknowledged—is, for many daughters, out of the question because it’s giving up and conceding that she will never get the prize she’s after, her mother’s attuned affection. The key thing is the core conflict: that a daughter’s growing recognition of her wounds (and who wounded her) absolutely coexists with her continued quest to gain her mother’s love and support. The next reason, which is also compelling, is that the daughter wants to be “normal” and fit in. Probably the last thing an unloved daughter will do during adolescence and even later is to share information that will set her apart. That can even be true with romantic partners .
Additionally, she’s afraid no one will believe her or, worse, say it’s her fault her mother didn’t love her. The sad truth is that this fear is more legitimate than not. Generally, people really want to believe the mother myths, especially the aspect of unconditional maternal love, and they’re inclined either not to believe an unloved daughter or to think she’s exaggerating. The most otherwise understanding friends and lovers, especially if they had loving or even good enough mothers, often don’t get it. They sometimes believe that it just couldn’t have been as bad as you say because “look at how you turned out” and other statements like that. People have trouble believing the truth, which is that, sometimes, there’s a little girl still mourning the mother she deserved under that outwardly polished and successful exterior.
