Dance of Anger: A Woman's Guide to Changing the Patterns of Intimate Relationships

by Harriet Lerner

  In the months that followed, Maggie explored many facets of the deep bond between herself and her mother. She began to feel less angry and more empathic toward her mother as she understood better how every member of the family, including herself, had unconsciously tried to protect her mother from loneliness and depression whether, in reality, she wanted this protection or not. More important, Maggie was able to recognize her own wish to maintain the status quo—to hold on to her mother and be close in the old ways. And as long as Maggie chose to fight, or to remain silent on issues that mattered to her, she would never really leave home. Even if she moved to the moon, she would still be her mother’s little girl.

  As Maggie became less scared and guilty about showing her mother her own strong and separate self, she became more ready to make a change in this relationship. She was no longer going to participate in the same old fights. Nor would she sit silently seething when she felt that her authority as both a mother and an adult woman was being questioned. Maggie was going to demonstrate her independence.

  BREAKING A PATTERN—MOTHER’S NEXT VISIT

  Amy was almost a year and half now. It was a hot Sunday afternoon, the second day of Maggie’s mother’s visit, and Bob was out playing tennis with his friends. Maggie had just put Amy down for a nap and she was crying in her crib. Only five minutes had passed when her mother suddenly jumped up from her chair, scooped Amy out of the crib, and said to Maggie, “I just can’t stand to hear her cry! I’m going to rock her to sleep!”

  Anger welled up inside Maggie and for a moment she felt like yelling at her mother. But she was now aware that fighting was a way of protecting both her mother and herself. And silence was the same. For both fighting and silence would insure that Maggie would never declare her independence from her mother. Suddenly, she simmered down.

  With as much poise as Maggie could muster, she stood up, lifted Amy from her mother’s arms, and placed her gently back in the crib. Then she turned to her mother and said, without anger or criticism in her voice, “Mom, let’s go out on the porch. I really want to talk with you about something important to me.”

  Maggie’s heart was beating so fast, it occurred to her that she might faint. She realized in a split second that it would be easier to fight than to do what she needed to do. She was about to show her mother her separateness and independence. And she was going to proceed to do so in a mature and responsible fashion. Her mother was clearly nervous, too; it was unlike her daughter to speak to her in a calm but firm manner.

  The two women were seated on the porch swing. Maggie’s mother spoke first, with anger that barely masked the anxiety in her voice: “Margaret” (it was the name her mother had always used when she was upset with Maggie), “I cannot stand to hear that child cry. When a child needs to be picked up, I just can’t sit there pretending I don’t hear her screaming.”

  Maggie’s voice was level and sure. She looked at her mother directly and spoke without anger. “Mom,” she said, “I appreciate how concerned you are about Amy. I know it’s important to you that your grandchildren are well-cared-for. But there’s something I feel I must tell you. . . .”

  Maggie paused for a moment. She felt an icy fear in her chest without knowing why. She guessed that her mother felt it, too. But she kept her composure.

  “You see, Mom, Amy is my child. And I’m struggling hard to learn to be a good mother and to establish a good relationship with her. It’s very important to me that with my child, I do what I think is right. I know that sometimes I’ll make mistakes, sometimes I’ll do the wrong thing. But right now I need to take care of Amy in a way that I see fit. I need to do that for her and I need to do that for me. And I very much want to have your support in that.” Maggie heard the strength and maturity in her own voice and it surprised her. She continued with a warmth that was beginning to feel genuine: “Mom, when you tell me what to do with Amy, or correct me, or take things into your own hands, it’s not helpful to me. It would mean a whole lot to me if you would not do that anymore.”

  There was a moment of dead silence. Maggie felt as if she had stabbed her mother with a knife. Then her mother’s voice came back, familiar and angry. It was as if she had not heard:

  “Maggie, I cannot stand to see that child suffer. A child of Amy’s age must not be left to sob uncontrollably in her crib.” Mother continued to speak at length about the adverse psychological effects of Maggie’s practice.

  Maggie was tempted to bolster her own position, but she refrained from doing so. Arguing, she realized, deflected attention from the issue Maggie was at last beginning to speak to—that of her being a separate and different person from her mother, with her own unique way of being in the world.

  Maggie listened patiently and respectfully until her mother was through. She did not contradict her, nor did she fight back. Maggie was doing something very different, and both she and her mother knew it.

  “Mom,” Maggie said softly, “I don’t think you’re hearing me. Perhaps I’m wrong about the question of Amy’s crying in her crib, or perhaps I’m right. I can’t know for sure. But what’s most important to me right now is that, as Amy’s mother, I do what I feel is best. I’m not saying that I’ll never make mistakes or that I have the final word on things. What I am saying is that I’m working hard to be independent and to gain confidence in myself as Amy’s mother. It’s very important to me that with my child, I do what I think is right.”

  Her mother became more anxious and upped the ante: “I’ve raised four children. Are you telling me that you don’t want any advice at all? That I have nothing worthwhile to say? Are you saying that I should have stayed home? I can leave, you know, if I’m just in the way. It sounds like I’ve been making things worse rather than better!”

  Maggie felt a new wave of anger rising up, but this time it disappeared quickly. Maggie had her feet on the ground. She knew she was not going to accept the invitation to fight, and thus reinstate old patterns. Instead, she said, “Mother, I very much appreciate your being here. I’m aware how much you know about raising children. And maybe at some point when I am more secure in my own independence and my own mothering skills, I’ll be asking you for some advice.”

  “But you don’t want my advice now?” It was more an accusation than a question.

  “That’s right, Mother,” Maggie answered. “Unless I specifically ask for advice, I don’t want it.”

  “I can’t stand by and watch you ruin that child.” Maggie’s mother was becoming more irrational and provocative, unconsciously trying to draw Maggie back into fighting in order to reinstate their earlier, predictable relationship.

  “You know, Mother,” Maggie said, “Bob and I have our struggles as parents. But I think that we’re pretty good at it and that we’ll get better. I’m confident that we won’t ruin Amy.”

  “And you’re just criticizing me!” Mother continued, as if Maggie had not just spoken. “I’ve been trying to help you and you just throw it back in my face!”

  “Mom”—Maggie’s voice was still calm—“I’m not criticizing you. I’m not saying that you’re doing the wrong thing. I’m sharing my reaction. When you do something like pick up Amy when I put her down, I get upset because I’m trying to develop my confidence as a mother on my own. I’m not criticizing you. I am sharing with you how I feel and what I want.”

  Maggie’s mother rose abruptly and went back into the house, slamming the screen door behind her. Maggie had the terrifying fantasy that her mother was going to kill herself and that she would never see her again. Suddenly, Maggie noticed that her own knees were shaking and she felt dizzy. Both Maggie and her mother were experiencing “separation anxiety.” Maggie was beginning to leave home.

  UNDERSTANDING MOTHER’S REACTION

  When Maggie stepped out of her characteristic position in her relationship with her mother, she experienced a panicky feeling about herself and her mother’s well-being. Her mother responded to Maggie’s changed style of communication by intensifyi
ng her own position, almost to absurd proportions, in a powerful effort to protect both herself and her daughter from the strong anxiety that standing on one’s own can evoke in parties who are close to each other.

  What might at first glance appear to be an obnoxious, unfeeling response on her mother’s part reflects her deep wish to stay close to her daughter and to spare them both the painful solitude of greater separateness and independence. Indeed, if her mother had been able to respond calmly and rationally, Maggie herself would have been left to experience even more of the separation anxiety that welled up in her from time to time during their talk. Adding to each woman’s deep-seated fear of losing the other was the fact that their old pattern of interaction was so long standing, neither Maggie nor her mother knew a different way of relating. Precisely what kind of relationship could replace this one was a scary unknown to both of them. Thus, when Maggie broke the old repetitive pattern of communicating, her mother, unconsciously sensing a threat to their relationship, rallied to keep it intact.

  Although Maggie was intellectually prepared for the sequence of events that occurred, she still found herself feeling shaken and depressed. “Have I made a mistake?” she asked herself. “Is my mother acting crazy?” “Will I lose my mother forever just because I finally had the courage to state my own point of view?”

  The answer is no. Countermoves are par for the course when we begin to define a stronger self in a family relationship. Maggie’s mother’s “Change back!” reaction was her way of communicating that Maggie’s act of independence—her statement of self—was a cruel rejection of her. The threats—some overt, some disguised—were that her mother would become depressed, that she would withdraw, that she would fall apart, and that the relationship between her and Maggie would be severed. As we have seen, this powerful emotional counterforce (“You’re wrong”; “Change back!”; “Or else . . .”) is predictable, understandable, and, to some extent, universal. What happens next is up to Maggie.

  A New Dance—One Step at a Time

  Maggie’s work had just begun. As her mother angrily retreated to her room, Maggie felt scared and guilty. More than anything, she wanted to get away from her mother—to “leave the field.” She had said what she needed to say and now her only wish was that she or her mother would disappear.

  It doesn’t work. “Hit-and-run” confrontation in an important relationship does not lead to lasting change. If Maggie is really serious about change, she still has a challenging road to walk.

  First, Maggie needs to show (for her own sake as well as her mother’s) that at last she is declaring her separateness and independence from mother, but that she is not declaring a lack of caring or closeness. Independence means that we clearly define our own selves on emotionally important issues, but it does not mean emotional distance. Thus, Maggie needs to show, through her behavior, that although she will stand behind her own wants and convictions, she is still her mother’s daughter and loves her mother very much.

  The work of negotiating greater independence—especially between a mother and a daughter—may be so fraught with mutual anxieties about rejection and loss that the person making the move (in this case, Maggie) must be responsible for maintaining emotional contact with the other (her mother). If Maggie fails in this regard, her mother will feel rejected and upset; Maggie will feel anxious and guilty; and both mother and daughter will unconsciously agree to return their relationship to the old predictable pattern.

  How can Maggie best maintain emotional closeness with her mother at this time? She might ask her mother questions about her interests and activities. She can express interest in learning more about her mother’s own past and personal history. This is one of the best ways to stay emotionally connected to members of our family and, at the same time, learn more about our selves (see Chapter 6). When things cool off a bit and the relationship is calm, Maggie might initiate a dialogue with her mother on the subject of raising children—an area in which mother has valuable expertise. For example, Maggie might say, “You know, Mother, sometimes I try to comfort Amy and she keeps crying and crying. Did you go through that when we were little? How did you handle it?” Or, “What was it like for you to raise four children, especially when two of us were only a year apart?” If her mother were to reply in a huff, “Well, I thought you had enough of my advice!” Maggie might respond, “Actually, I don’t find advice helpful—even good advice—because I need to struggle with the problem myself and find my own solution. But I do find it very useful to learn more about your own experience and how you handled things.” Blocking advice-giving—if that is one of the problems—is not the same as cutting off the lines of communication. As we become more independent we learn more about our family members, not less, and we are able to share more about our selves.

  In addition to the task of being the caretaker in maintaining emotional contact, Maggie will now face a series of “tests,” for her mother will need to determine whether Maggie really “means it,” or whether she is willing to return to the previous pattern of interaction. Again, this is not because Maggie’s mother is a rigid, crazy woman, but because this is the predictable reaction in all family systems. It is as basic as a law of physics. Maggie must be prepared to have her mother attack, withdraw, threaten, and “do her old thing” with Maggie’s baby, Amy. And she must be equally prepared to restate her convictions like a broken record if necessary, yet retain emotional contact with her mother as best she can. The point cannot be emphasized enough: No successful move toward greater independence occurs in one “hit-and-run” confrontation.

  And so, Maggie’s work was far from over at the point when her mother rose and retreated to her room. On this particular day, Maggie had only begun the process of attaining a higher level of separateness from her first family. If she can stay on course, over time she will achieve greater independence and clarity of self that will manifest itself in all her important relationships. Her mother, too, is likely to shift to a more separate mode of interacting and to proceed in her own life with greater emotional maturity.

  Will Maggie be able to tolerate the anxiety and guilt associated with clarifying a more independent self, or will she become so emotionally caught up in her mother’s reactions as to lapse back into the reassuringly familiar fights that kept her and her mother close in the old way? The ball is in Maggie’s court. And the difficult choice is hers.

  Together, Differently

  As it happened, Maggie chose to work on changing the old pattern. She fell on her face many times and temporarily slipped back into fighting, instructing, criticizing her mother, or distancing herself from the relationship. But most important, she was able to pick herself up each time and get back on course. She continued to make her declaration of independence with increasingly less blaming and distancing as time progressed. In doing so, she established a new, more adult relationship with her mother and began to talk with her about topics that had previously been eclipsed by their endless years of fighting. Maggie began to ask her mother more about her past life, about her own mother and father and her childhood and memorable events. She even initiated discussions about subjects that had formerly been “taboo” (“Mom, how do you understand that you got so depressed after I was born?”). Maggie talked with her mother in a way that neither of them had previously done, since their interactions were so heavily based on silence, sarcasm, outright fighting, and emotional distancing. As they talked more and more often in this new way, Maggie was able to see her mother’s old “obnoxious” behaviors in a different light. She came to appreciate that her mother’s apparent intrusiveness and criticism were in fact expressions of her own wish to be helpful to her daughter, as well as her fear that were she not, she would lose Maggie. Besides advising and criticizing, her mother had been as bewildered as Maggie about how to be helpful and close. She, too, sensed Maggie’s need not to let go—to hold on in the old ways. Maggie also learned that her mother had had much the same kind of relationship with her mother, mainta
ining closeness through constant squabbling.

  And what about Maggie’s father? Like many fathers, he was most conspicuous by his absence. Maggie’s distant relationship with her father had become even more pronounced following her parents’ divorce, in part because of an unspoken family rule that Maggie was to be her mother’s “ally” as her parents negotiated the divorce. When Maggie herself no longer needed to maintain her special bond with mother in the old way, she began working on having an adult, one-to-one relationship with her father as well.

  This was not an easy task, because both Maggie and her father had a good share of anxiety and discomfort about establishing an emotionally close relationship. When Maggie first began to write to her dad, he reacted by distancing himself further, which was one of a number of countermoves, in response to her initiating a change. Indeed, her father’s “Change back!” reactions were as dramatic as her mother’s, although they took a different form. Much to Maggie’s credit, she was able to maintain a calm, nonreactive position and she persisted, in a low-keyed way, to write to him and share the important events and issues going on in her life. Although mother and father were still fighting it out, Maggie’s new level of independence helped her to stay out of the conflicts between them—a feat that required considerable assertiveness on her part. Over time, her relationship with her father developed and deepened.