I have a client, Peter, whose mother had borderline personality disorder. She was verbally and physically abusive; she would lock Peter in a closet as a punishment—or on an emotional whim. Peter grew up terrified; he spent his young life walking on eggshells for fear that he would set his mother off. He adapted by not talking; he wouldn’t say anything; he endeavored to be invisible. The core beliefs he took with him into adulthood were these: The world is not a safe place. I’m powerless over my environment. Life is unpredictable—the bottom could fall out at any time. People will hurt me and can’t be trusted.
Another of my clients, Harry, grew up in a big family during the ’60s in a small Midwestern town. He was dyslexic, but the problem was never diagnosed and he really struggled in school. Afraid that people would find out he was stupid, he compensated for his feelings of helplessness by becoming an intimidating bully. His core beliefs: I am unworthy. I’m bad. I’m stupid.
Based on my work with clients, here is a list of the most common core limiting beliefs that people adopt as truths about themselves and the world around them, then take with them from childhood into adulthood:
• I’m not safe.
• I’m powerless and have no control.
• There’s no one there for me.
• Life is unpredictable; the bottom can fall out anytime.
• People will hurt me and can’t be trusted.
• I’m unworthy/unlovable/unwanted/bad/invisible.
• I’m not good enough.
• I’m stupid.
• I’m ugly.
• If I meet others’ needs/expectations, I’ll be safe/accepted/loved.
• Others’ needs are more important than my own.
• I’m responsible for others.
• Success/status equals recognition/security/love.
• I have to be perfect at all times.
• I’m incapable of taking care of myself.
• If I express my feelings and needs to others, I’ll be judged and rejected.
• I’m entitled to have whatever I want.
Seeking a Natural Balance
Let’s step back and, again, think of the family as a system. Like many systems, the family seeks a balance or equilibrium. In nature, the process of maintaining that balance is called homeostasis. For example, the human body is a self-regulating system that seeks to maintain its temperature, among other things. When it gets too hot outside, the body tries to compensate by sweating; when it gets too cold, the body tries to restore its equilibrium by shivering, which produces heat. Based on the laws of homeostasis, when one element of a system is off kilter, it triggers a reaction as the entire system tries to adjust.
When family systems theory borrows from the biological concept of homeostasis, it presumes that a family, too, has a natural equilibrium and that the family system strives for balance. As an example, let’s say a family member dies who played a certain role within the family. The system will be disrupted and will automatically adjust to seek a new balance. Say the mother dies, and she was the primary wage earner; someone will have to step in and pick up the slack. Or say a new baby comes into the family, drawing the mother’s near-complete attention for the first weeks of its life; the rest of the family has to adjust to find a new balance.
In thinking about relationships, homeostasis provides an explanation for why opposites tend to attract. A shy person might be drawn to an outgoing person because they balance one another. Similarly, in relationships, there’s always a tension between closeness and distance. I talked earlier about the fluidity of that process within healthy relationships: at one moment, one person has a greater need for closeness; at another moment, the other person needs more of an emotional connection. Couples are always jockeying for a balance in the unconscious pursuit of homeostasis.
Within a family system—with all its complex relationships—homeostasis helps explain why family members take on certain roles. As you’ll recall, in a healthy family, roles are fluid and flexible. One day, Annie gets all the attention; the next, Jennifer. One moment, the father plays the role of comforter in a crisis; the next day, for whatever reason, that role falls to the mother. I saw this process at work when my own children were growing up. When my daughter was an adolescent, challenging my parental rules and boundaries, my son was cooperative and easygoing. But a few years later, when he went through adolescence, the roles switched. All these examples relate to homeostasis—the natural tendency for the family system to seek balance.
Both constructive and dysfunctional family systems are subject to the law of homeostasis. As a general rule, the more dysfunctional the family, the more rigid the family roles will be. For example, say one parent is addicted to alcohol or drugs, and the other is busy providing for the family and seldom home. The children will automatically pick up the unmet needs of the system and will tend to get stuck in specific roles. For example, one child will take on the role of caretaker; another will act out the unexpressed anger of the system; a third might become the family hero—the one who strives to do everything perfectly. The conditions simply won’t exist for the fluid expression of the different parts of each family member.
In my work, I’ve found that the four roles listed below—originally identified by professionals working in the substance abuse and recovery field—tend to be the most prevalent among people who grow up in dysfunctional families:
• Hero. The Hero seeks self-validation and esteem through accomplishments, money, success, and prestige. Heroes always work hard to prove themselves.
• Mascot. Holding a special place within the family, the Mascot may be the baby or the clown. Mascots may be unusually beautiful or handsome, or possess some other trait or circumstance that draws special attention from other family members. With this role there’s often a strong sense of entitlement, a desire to be taken care of, and/or a strong need for attention.
• Lost Child. This is the child who tends to be insecure and/or self-doubting. Lost Children look to others to provide self-validation and esteem. They’re often approval-seekers who try to please other people by saying and doing what they think others want them to do or by taking care of others.
• Rebel. Viewed by other family members as sick, crazy, or bad, Rebels are oppositional, angry, critical, hostile, and/or self-righteous and may be verbally or physically abusive.
My reaction to my family of origin provides a perfect example of this dynamic. I took on the role of Rebel, expressing my family system’s anger and frustration, becoming a living expression of its darkest dysfunctions. As a young child, I felt largely ignored and invisible. I had no one with whom to connect within my family, and I found my mother’s withdrawal from me—and the outside world—painful and frustrating. Many of my natural human needs went unmet, including a deep need for self-expression. I was a very creative person, and I needed a safe place where I could express my creativity. At home, nobody paid much attention. But at the end of third grade, I was admitted to an enrichment program for gifted students. It was challenging and interesting. In fourth grade, I won my first part in a school musical. I loved it. And, given that I was later to pursue a career as a singer, it was a turning point for me. My elementary school experience was very positive, which helped offset the erosion of my self-esteem that was occurring at home.
With the end of sixth grade and the enrichment program, things took a turn for the worse. On top of the normal challenges of adolescence, I was beginning to feel the impact of my home life. I started to come apart emotionally, acting out my frustration, alienation, and need for attention. One incident really captures the essence of my experience. Early in the seventh grade, I went over to a friend’s house and we broke into the liquor cabinet. By the time we were finished, I was extremely drunk. When I arrived home, drunk as can be, I settled into the television room, making intermittent trips to the bathroom to throw up. My mother didn’t notice. Before dinner, I retreated to my upstairs bedroom and passed out, fully clothed, on t
op of my bed. Yet no one expressed any concern when I missed dinner and slept into the night. The following day, I was so sick that my mother had to come pick me up early from school. Even then, she made no effort to find out what was wrong. During that 24-hour period, no one had noticed I was drunk; no one expressed concern about my health; no one made an effort to figure out what was going on.
That attitude prevailed as I continued my downward slide. Before long, I was smoking, experimenting with drugs, and hanging with an older crowd. At 13, I sought refuge in a group of kids who hung out in the public park. Like me, they were alienated and disenfranchised, but they were older. My boyfriend was 16 and addicted to heroin. In elementary school, I’d had outlets for my creative energy and curiosity; not so in junior high. In an effort to express a part of my authentic self—the artistic, creative part of me—I started writing poetry and playing guitar. I began to see myself as an artist, a free spirit.
I was attending a tough urban public school, and there were several stabbings while I was a student there. I was viewed as an outsider, physically threatened, and, at one point, actually beaten up. At the age of 13, my world was falling apart. At home, I was ignored or criticized; at school, I was terrified. My parents were essentially disengaged. I was screaming for help, but they weren’t hearing me. And, by the end of my freshman year of high school, I was flunking out.
Two weeks before the school year ended, a friend told me she was running away from home. I jumped at the opportunity, and together we hitchhiked to Provincetown, Massachusetts. Eventually we parted ways, and I went on to Key West, Florida. I was 14 years old, and I didn’t really go home again until I was an adult. I took incredible risks. I ended up, at one point, living homeless on the streets; at another, sharing a summer house with ten other out-of-control teens—all the children of parents who weren’t doing much active parenting. After six months had passed, my parents sent my brother after me to bring me home. Finding life on the streets terrifying, and feeling lost and disillusioned, I agreed immediately. But I’d already had a taste of independence, and living at home just didn’t feel like a viable option. My parents agreed to send me to an alternative high school in Boston and to help pay my living expenses. At the age of 15, I was living on my own in a rented apartment near Kenmore Square and working after school as a waitress for pocket money. I doubled up on course loads to make up for lost time, worked hard, and graduated in less than two years. It was as if I’d sped through my youth and rushed into adulthood to escape my unhappy childhood. After that, I took a menial job and worked just long enough to earn the money for a plane ticket to Los Angeles, where, at the age of 17, I began to pursue my dream of becoming a singer.
By the time I left home at 14, the core limiting belief that I had internalized about myself was: I’m worthless, unwanted, unlovable, and bad. I raged at the world. My authentic self—smart and creative with a strong, independent spirit—was still in there somewhere but had no room to grow. To this day, I believe I left in an unconscious attempt to preserve my innate wholeness, a fearless move inspired by my survival instinct. I see it as evidence of my inner strength.
I spent my entire teenage life on the run. Looking back, I recognize that I took on the role of the Rebel within my family system. I was the one with an attitude, the nonconformist, the angry one. I railed against the status quo. I broke all the rules. When I was living at home, my parents were unaware of my experimentation with alcohol and drugs, but my foul moods and temper tantrums did attract my family’s attention. Through a combination of my acting out and my family’s negative reactions, I continually reinforced my core belief that I was unlovable and worthless. In a family like mine, it’s not uncommon for a rebel to emerge.
Core Limiting Beliefs and Family Role Exercises
The three exercises that follow are designed to help you gain greater awareness of the attributes and dynamics of your family of origin, the core limiting beliefs you developed in response, and your primary role within the family.
Exercise: Family System Dysfunction
This quiz measures the degree to which your family of origin fits with the attributes of a dysfunctional family system. Before you begin, I want to encourage you again not to judge or blame your parents as you go through this exercise. It’s designed to provide you with some insight into the nature of the family system you come from and, ultimately, help you connect the dots between your family of origin and the limiting patterns you experience in your life.
Respond to each of the statements listed below, rating each item based on how you predominantly experienced your family from your earliest memories as a child until the time you left home. If you were not raised by your parents, substitute primary caretakers where the word parents appears. If your parents were divorced and you were raised in two different environments (for example, one household was more dysfunctional than the other), complete the quiz twice, once for each household.
Scoring Key
1 Completely untrue
2 Mostly untrue
3 Slightly more true than untrue
4 Moderately true
5 Mostly true
6 Describes my experience perfectly
Score Description
____ I was the victim of, or saw another family member subjected to, one or more of the following: verbal abuse, physical abuse, sexual abuse, physical neglect, emotional neglect.
____ There was a stated or unstated rule that family members should think, feel, and behave in the same way. Any deviations were considered “bad,” “crazy,” or “sick,” or met with disapproval.
____ There was a stated or unstated rule that one or more of the following feelings were not to be openly expressed: anger, fear, sadness, love, joy.
____ There was a stated or unstated rule that one’s needs were not to be expressed.
____ I did not feel a solid sense of security and/ or support.
____ I often felt one or more of the following: worried, anxious, sad, lonely, depressed, abandoned, overly responsible for others, fearful, angry, ashamed, unwanted, guilty, defective, insecure, separate/ different from others, powerless, frustrated.
____ One or both of my parents had diagnosed or undiagnosed mental and emotional problems and/or habitual dependency on alcohol or drugs.
____ There was a stated or unstated rule that one should be perfect at all times.
____ Family members were expected to keep family matters secret and not reveal them to people outside of the family.
____ One or both of my parents had a volatile temper that often made me feel afraid and/or upset.
____ TOTAL SCORE
Interpreting Your Score
10–19 Very low level of family dysfunction
20–29 Fairly low level of family dysfunction
30–39 Moderate level of family dysfunction
40–49 High level of family dysfunction
50–60 Very high level of family dysfunction
Exercise: Core Limiting Beliefs
Check all of the core limiting beliefs below that resonate for you. Check any limiting beliefs that you think you may have internalized in response to overt and covert messages from your parents growing up or from the environment and circumstances you experienced throughout your childhood. Add any other core limiting beliefs you may have internalized that aren’t listed here.
When you’re finished, take out your journal and write “My Core Limiting Beliefs” at the top of the page. Then transfer your list to your journal by writing all the checked items under that heading.
I’m not safe.
I’m powerless and have no control.
There’s no one there for me.
Life is unpredictable; the bottom can fall out anytime.
People will hurt me and can’t be trusted.
I’m unworthy/unlovable/unwanted/invisible.
I’m bad/not good enough.
I’m stupid.
I’m ugly.
If I meet others’ needs/ex
pectations, I’ll be safe/accepted/loved.
Others’ needs are more important than my own.
I’m responsible for others.
Success/status equals recognition/security/love.
I have to be perfect at all times.
I’m incapable of taking care of myself.
If I express my feelings and needs to others, I’ll be judged and rejected.
I’m entitled to have anything I want.
Other(s): List any other core beliefs you may have internalized.
Exercise: Identifying Your Family Role
Scoring Key
1 Completely untrue of me
2 Mostly untrue of me
3 Slightly more true than untrue of me
4 Moderately true of me
5 Mostly true of me
6 Describes me perfectly
A.
____ Whatever I do, I have to be the best.
____ Success, money, and status are very important to me.
____ I often feel that nothing I do seems to meet my high standards.
____ I often strive to keep things in perfect order and organized.
____ Total Score
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