Yesterday, Today and Tomorrow

I noticed a curious plant on a walk in my neighborhood--it is a shrub with tiny, delicate flowers on it in three shades of purple--deep purple, lavender and white.  Purple is one of my favorite colors so of course, I was intrigued.  It took some research but I discovered that the plant's name is Brunfelsia latifolia but is commonly called the Yesterday, Today and Tomorrow shrub.  I purchased one for my garden on the second anniversary of my divorce--it seemed appropriate somehow.

When the blooms open, they are dark purple in color; on the second day they fade to lavender and then become white on the third day.  At any given time, all three colors are present on the plant and the color of the blossom clues one in on how long the flower has been open.  Yesterday, Today and Tomorrow will not thrive in colder climates but will grow in any light exposure, though it prefers morning sun and afternoon shade.

The name of the plant intrigued me because my life has been in a major transition during the past few years.  The trauma I have experienced anchors me to the events of yesterday and creates fear of what may come tomorrow.  This is the very nature of trauma--it ties us to an event(s) that occurred in one or more of our yesterdays.  The world is not as safe as we believed it was so we have fear and anxiety about what my come in our tomorrows.

But recovery offers another option--one that does not deny the trauma of yesterday or dismiss the fears we harbor of tomorrow.  It teaches us to be fully present in today--to live fully in this present moment.  Indeed, orienting to the present is a technique we teach victims of trauma to use when experiencing a flashback.  During a triggering event, the trauma victim's brain cannot differentiate between the past and the present, so experiences the trigger as though the remembered event were happening in the now.  Orienting to the present--noticing the feel of my feet on the floor, the smell of the plant on my desk, the light touch as my fingers skim the keyboard and the jazz playing softly in the background--these appeals to my senses remind my brain that that was then, this is now.

Recovery assures us that the bruises of our past will fade as we process through the pain, turning the deep purple of the wound into lighter and lighter shades of lavender and white.  But the key is staying present in the now, while honoring the past and surrendering to what may come in the future.  Today is my pressing concern--this moment, now this one and again this one.

Those of us in the Western world often live with one foot planted in "yesterday" and another planted in "tomorrow."  And far too often, we miss today.  We expend so much time fretting about what has already happened in our world or what may happen that we have no energy left to enjoy the beauty and majesty of daily life on this amazing planet.  This is the epidemic that plagues our world and it is far deadlier than Ebola or terrorism or a flagging economy.

I'm reminded of the lyrics of a song that meant so much to me many years ago.  It urges the listener to "hold tight to the sound of the music of living."  It refers to the music of the moment, the music of today--the laughter of children, the touch of a loved one, the blue of the sky or the green of the forest.  These are amazing gifts that we take for granted or ignore because we are listening to the cacophony of voices engaged in rigorous debate or issuing dire warnings about what tomorrow may hold.  The music of living gets drowned out by the noise of shrill street vendors urging vigilance, anxiety and fear.

Yesterday is gone and can never be recaptured and we are not promised tomorrow.  We have this moment, this very moment of life.  And isn't that enough?

The Hallway

A funny (?) thing happened at this year's Unity Conference, a 12-step recovery gathering for sex addicts (SA) and those impacted by living with or having lived with a sexually addicted or compulsive individual (S-Anon).  The hotel where the event was held also booked another major conference.  That in itself is not note-worthy, except that the other conference was an international ballroom dancing competition.

The halls that led to our breakout rooms were filled with men and women in incredibly skimpy attire--not the ballroom dancing gowns I remember!  Even the public restrooms and lobby were filled with competitors with lots and lots of exposed skin, tight-fitting clothing and exaggerated make-up.  It created a minefield of danger for our conference attendees.

But an amazing thing happened.  Men and women working hard to recover from a progressive disease took extraordinary measures to maintain their sobriety in the face of this unexpected challenge.  They found other ways to get to the breakout rooms; they avoided The Hallway at all costs.  It was inconvenient and even silly to go outside the hotel and walk all the way around it to get to a door leading directly into the desired room.  But they did.

And I learned an important lesson:  a man or woman in recovery will do all they can to stay away from The Hallway of temptation.  For you see a relapse or slip in sex addiction does not mean a momentary lustful thought, a small window of porn viewing, masturbation or one visit to a strip club.  It can and often does lead to a binge of out-of-control behavior.  For those of us who do not struggle with an addiction, this may seem extreme or foreign but for those who second-by-second contend with this monstrous disease know it as their reality 24/7.

Staying away from The Hallway means that the person in recovery won't:

• underestimate the severity and complexity of his disease or over-estimate his ability to control it.
• minimize the power of temptation or inflate his ability to resist.
• deny that The Hallway exists or deceive himself into believing that it is safe for him to enter.

So hats off to all those brave men and women who daily choose the long way around rather than risking the dangers of The Hallway.  Theirs is a courageous, gut-wrenching battle with huge implications for failure.  I'm grateful for the opportunity of knowing brave hearts who daily prove that addiction can be beaten with vigilance, courage and a tenacious commitment to staying out of The Hallway.

Deja Vu All Over Again

Another headline, another hidden perpetrator, another brave wife, more individuals wounded grievously in childhood . . . when is it ever going to end?  When the Stephen Collins' story first broke last week, the sordid tale of molestation, betrayal, manipulation and deceit triggered my own quieted grief and anger.  It was deja vu all over again so it was not hard to feel great empathy for his wife--not hard at all.

While the details and timetable of the Collins' situation are still somewhat sketchy, with what I have gleaned from numerous sources, it seems that the pattern of behavior is quite typical of what many partners/former partners have experienced.  Deja vu--it has "already been seen" before.

And maybe by looking at the typical pattern of behavior of a pedophile/perpetrator we can find pieces of information that will prove helpful in formulating an earlier detection plan.

• He targets an unsuspecting woman and pursues her as a romantic partner, playing to her insecurities and vulnerabilities.
• When the relationship is secure from his perspective, he manipulates, deceives, minimizes and distorts her perception of reality (gaslighting) if she suspects anything is off in the relationship.
• He is now free to molest because he is perceived as a "safe" person in that he has a wife and family of his own.  His plan to create just the perfect cover for deviancy is now in place and she has no clue she is part of this grand scheme.
• If and when his perpetrating behavior is revealed, either through voluntary disclosure, discovery or involvement with the criminal justice system, he feigns just enough remorse and contempt for his behavior to lull her into believing that there is hope, with help, for their relationship.  She believes whatever explanation he provides because he is just that good at fooling others.
• He agrees to therapy, accountability, boundaries, honesty, etc. in an attempt to persuade her that he really is going to change or truly address his deviant behavior.
• When she has relaxed a bit into believing he is in "recovery," he will abruptly leave the relationship, either by actually leaving the marriage or by a pseudo-leaving.  Pseudo-leaving involves being even more unavailable for relationships as his disease and preoccupation with perpetrating behaviors escalates.
• All the while he is engaged in illegal activities, he will project all of the blame and shame for the relationship difficulties onto her.  She may balk at carrying the heavier responsibility for the marital woes but far too often carries it anyway.
• When he no longer wants of feels that he needs her, he will change his stripes dramatically.  He may become vindictive or retaliatory, work hard to disrupt or destroy her reputation, friendships or relationships with their children and be incredibly selfish with their joint assets.  He becomes the man he has always been on the inside--predatory--and she is shocked because she discovers that the man she thought she married never existed.

With all the stories that are dominating the news about yet another actor, youth pastor, teacher or counselor preying on children, what gets lost in the lurid details is the pattern. These guys are not very creative and it seems behind every one of them is a woman who is absolutely devastated by the behavior of her partner.  And while the public scrutiny and shock is initially correctly placed on the behavior of the perpetrator, eventually the tide turns and her behavior is called into question as well.  This has been so clearly illustrated in the Stephen Collins' story.  One actress was quoted as saying, "He was such a nice man."  Meanwhile his wife has been portrayed as a money-hungry extortionist who probably broke the law by secretly recording their conversations.

It is easier to believe that the affable, sweet man who charms us and is sensitive and kind is less guilty than his innocent and betrayed spouse.  The individual who has caused such irreparable harm to children is judged less grievous than his romantic partner who is just trying to survive a world that has suddenly and inexplicably turned upside down.

There is a "tedious familiarity" to these stories and they definitely are "unpleasantly familiar."  If we fail to learn from them, however, they becomes just another horrendous tragedy with no redeeming element.  There is a pattern; it eventually becomes detectible with enough education and awareness.  Perpetrators are actually quite predictable and that is how we can catch them earlier. 

What is Love?

I was talking with my life-long friend recently and she asked me this question.  "What is love?"  When you think about it, it is not an easy question to answer because love can be elusive and difficult to define. Is it something you recognize when you see but are hard-pressed to quantify?  Many malicious intententions can masquerade as love so it often is not easily recognizable.  What may look and feel like love can be something sinister and malignant.  So, I'm left with the question, "What is love?"

What does a child need from her parents to truly know that she is loved and valued just because she exists?  How can a woman trust that the man wooing her truly loves her?  How can a man be certain that the love his partner expresses is really love that can be relied on when hard times come?

I spent many happy hours on this porch!

And I remember my grandmother and my own granddaughter.  Sandwiched between these two generations I gain a glimpse of what true love looks like.  My grandmother still has a very special place in my heart though she transitioned to heaven a long time ago.  She enriched my childhood in so many ways.  I loved spending time with her because she encouraged my imagination and nurtured my fragile self-esteem.  She gave me the gift of time, even when I know she was exhausted after a 15-hour day.

There is something pure and fierce about the love a grandparent has for her grandchild.  I have loved my own children thoroughly and delighted in them since before they were born.  But the love I have for my grandchild is different--maybe because I am different, more mature or maybe because I can enjoy her without being responsible for her. Whatever the reason, she has taught me so much about love.

Love says, "You are enough just as you are."
Love delights in you with your unique gifts and quirks.
Love values and honors you.
Love never gives up on you.
Love cares more about you than it does for self.
Love doesn't force itself on you; it focuses on your needs, desires or preferences.
Love doesn't fly off the handle or keep score of your misbehavior.
Love isn't gleeful when you are hurt.
Love is patient, kind and compassionate.
Love is faithful and unconditional.
Love is extravagant.
Love is tolerant.
Love is commitment.

There is nothing that my sweet granddaughter can do that would disappoint me.  I delight in absolutely
everything about her and everything she does.  I love her slight lisp and her tangled curls.  When she smiles, I feel as though my heart will melt.  From the moment she slipped into my life, I have been captured by her.  I am mesmerized by watching her.  Cuddling and holding her has been one of the most amazing experiences of my life.  She cannot do one tangible thing for me and yet I would gladly give my life to protect hers.  Every milestone, every new word and every tear are incredibly important to me. Providing for her needs when she is in my care is my most cherished responsibility.

This is love--pure and simple, profound and deep.  It is the kind of love every little girl needs and deserves.  It is the kind of love few of us are fortunate enough to receive.

A Twist of Irony or an Epidemic?

The Ebola Epidemic in Africa has captured the attention of the world.  Fear is the natural response to a virus that so ravages the human body, especially when there is no known cure.  Recently we learned that aid workers in Guinea were killed by villagers who feared that they were there to deliberately spread the feared virus.  As "enlightened" Westerners, we scoff at the ignorance of unenlightened third world societies that embrace and act on such wrong information.  And yet, when it comes pedophilia, fear often drives our response and as a society, we are often guilty of similar knee-jerk reactions.

Over two years ago my wise sponsor suggested that I find other partners of pedophiles as part of my recovery journey.  I had been faithfully attending S-Anon but found that there are some distinct differences in the experience of a pedophile's partner as compared to that of the partner of a sex addict.  I remember putting the phone down and sighing at the seeming impossibility of the task.  How does one go about finding other partners of a disease that is so deeply hidden?  I had a hunch that neither Craig's nor Angie's lists would be helpful.

But I picked up my laptop and began the search.  It was a search that eventually led me to one other partner, who just happened to live in my geographical area.  And in a bizarre twist of fate, she had actually written anonymously to me after my own life exploded.  We met for dinner and she confessed that I was the first partner she had spoken to about her experience in over 18 years.  I had found one other former partner.

The Ebola virus

Since that time, through my own blog and others', I have encountered dozens of women who are or have been in a romantic relationship with a pedophile.  I quipped recently that I need to create a spreadsheet to keep everyone's story straight.  On average, I hear from one new woman every week or so.  While the names and particular circumstances are varied, the reality is our stories are very similar.

• We were wooed by a man who seemed to be the man of our dreams.
• We worked hard to create a life and family with someone who was present but not fully present in our lives or in our relationships.
• We had no clue that our partner had a secret life, often until his involvement with the criminal justice or child protective services.
• We are left with a devastated life--a past that now begins to make sense and a future that seems uncertain at best.
• Our children are impacted, either as primary or secondary victims.
• We feel very little support from any quarter.  We are isolated and alone.
• We feel shamed and scorned and often feel pretty stupid that we didn't know.

So I am left wondering if this avalanche of partners/former partners in my small world is a cosmic twist of irony or if it is indicative of an epidemic.  Maybe it is both.  I firmly believe that the protestant church is facing a scandal at least as large as the Catholic Church has faced and maybe larger.  We have pointed at the celibacy requirement for priests as a reasonable excuse for the huge percentage of pedophiles that have been exposed within the Catholic Church.  But what excuse does the protestant church have?

The reality is that pedophiles are drawn to professions where they will have a legitimate reason to be around children.  What better place to hide than in a school or church?  And it is far easier to gain unsuspecting parents' trust if one wears a clerical collar or carries a large Bible, hears confessions or organizes Sunday School. It is a perfect set-up for the predator-in-waiting.  And he looks so normal, with a wife and children of his own--why should anyone suspect him?  He looks and sounds authentic so we blindly trust him with those who are most vulnerable and precious to us.

I believe that my ever growing pool of partners/former partners is indicative of this exploding problem.  As a society, we can continue to blame and belittle her--it may make us feel good but it will do little to protect children from the man in the pew or the one in the pulpit; the neighbor next door or the youth group leader.  We need to reach out to the partner in kindness, empathy and support and enlist her in this battle to protect our children.

How we should respond as a society to this growing pedophilia epidemic can be informed by the West's response to the Ebola epidemic.  We need solid information, good containment and isolation practices informed by the best research and a determination to do all we can to protect and assist those who have been exposed to the virus.  Instead of "killing" those who could provide us with inside information if given the support, information and compassion they need, we should invite her to the conversation.  Only then will we have a workable plan to contain and eradicate this menace to our children.

Are Victims Inherently Narcissistic?

The question this posts asks leaves me a bit queasy.  Is it possible that victimhood and narcissism are related?  The victim advocate in me riles at the suggestion and yet the victim in me sees it as a distinct possibility, particularly if one becomes stuck in victimhood.  The perspective of a victim is necessarily self-centered, and there is absolutely no shame or judgment that is appropriate for that self-centeredness.  An individual who has suffered relational trauma through betrayal, abandonment or rejection is certainly and rightfully a victim.  And as a victim, she deserves the time and space to process what happened to her.  Indeed most individuals who have experienced relational trauma probably have a long history of not being self-centered enough.

But I'm wondering if it is possible for legitimate victimhood to become chronic and to move the impacted individual into more of a narcissistic state?  When I first began attending S-Anon, a 12-step program for friends and family members of a sexually addicted individual, I was initially repulsed by the idea that I could bear any responsibility in the relational trauma I had just experienced.  And I still believe that the language in some of the conference-approved literature needs to be updated to reflect the partner's experience through a trauma lens rather than that of co-addiction.  But as I am processing through the steps, I am beginning to believe that the hinge that can swing an individual from that of "narcissistic" victimhood to a fully functioning, healthy adult is step four.  Steps one through three facilitate an understanding of our own powerlessness and inability to manage our lives.  But by requiring a heroic and daring moral inventory, step four offers us a way out of that helplessness and powerlessness.  It is the key to moving from being a helpless victim to empowering ourselves for change.

Most people approach step four with reluctance and with fear.  This is particularly true for individuals who come from very legalistic religious backgrounds.  We have spent so much time thinking of ourselves as worms because of poor theology that we are frankly tired of that perspective.  And the traumatic relationships we have experienced have been rife with projected blame and carried shame.  We're tired of being the "responsible" one.  We become paralyzed by the idea that we must now analyze our own part of the equation.

Let me just pause and state for the record, that I do not believe the partner bears any responsibility in the addiction of her spouse--she didn't cause it, she certainly cannot control it or cure it  But she has vulnerabilities from wounds received in her home of origin, culturally or from other victimizing relationships.  These vulnerabilities were exploited, either knowingly or unknowingly by her addict.  This is the core issue that step four addresses--identifying and understanding those vulnerabilities.

Step four is intended to be a compassionate and empathic look at self--at strengths as well as character defects.  It is not an either/or evaluation but a both/and look at ourselves.  Character traits that are now "defects" began as a means of protection or as the Big Book calls them, "Assets gone astray."  As children, we adopted learned behaviors as a defense against a hostile and toxic environment.  Maybe we became a caretaker as a means of obtaining needed affirmation or attention from our parents  For a while, the role of caretaker worked--it provided us with significance.  But as an adult, caretaking becomes more of a liability than an asset because it makes us more prone to becoming involved with an addict.  We tend to view defense mechanisms in a negative light, however, they once were protective actions essential for our emotional survival.  We have just outgrown our need for them so step four invites us to discard those "defects/traits" that are no longer useful.

You cannot heal what you do not acknowledge and understand.  I have found that identifying character traits that have become problematic for me as an adult and seeking to understand why I needed them as a child makes it far easier to lay them down.  The "inventory" is not so much a listing of the "whats" as it is answering the "whys."  Another list of faults or defects is not that helpful, particularly for a survivor of a relational trauma.  But understanding why I have behaved in the way that I have and why these "defects" developed is far more enlightening and leads to a deeper healing.

Step four asks us to stop denying our pain and to cease from blaming and accusing others for it.  Note, that it does not absolve others but simply changes the focus from their bad behavior to our coping behavior.  Step four requires that we become willing to face our true self and to put aside the false self that has protected and defended us.  Step four demands that we become willing to make amends to others we have hurt, including ourselves.

The hallmark of a narcissistic individual is is the inability to feel empathy for another.  Step four encourages us to move into an empathic response towards our own wounded and broken self and to others we have wounded in our pain.  Step four offers the wounded victim a gentle way out of victimhood into healing and wholeness.  Hurt people hurt people so the choice we have after victimization is to allow the pain to transform us or we will inevitably transmit it to others, including ourselves.

A victim is powerless over the events that created her victimhood.  She feels vulnerable, needy, frightened and
very much alone.  Relational trauma rends the very fabric of her soul.  By gently and courageously working step four, the pain of trauma and victimhood can be transformed.  Where there was powerlessness over circumstances and even over self, a new independence of spirit that is empowered for change emerges.  Where there was low self-esteem and the incredible weight of shame, a healthy evaluation of strengths vulnerabilities is born.  And what once felt like an impossible task--making amends and moving forward from victimhood becomes an exciting and rewarding possibility.

I'm not ready to call those stuck in victimhood narcissistic because that would be adding more pain to incredibly wounded individuals.  But I am willing to admit that the pain of my victimhood generated what has become an unhealthy narcissistic bent in me.  So I'm pushing forward ever more eagerly with step four.

Is it Well with my Soul?

I was reminded recently of the story behind my all-time favorite hymn and want to digress today from my normal blog posts to explore the story behind the story.  I believe that story has something to offer to those of us who have been terribly wounded by organized religion.  Horotio Spafford was a successful Chicago attorney and real estate mogul during the mid to late 1800s.  He and his wife, Anna, were members of a well-known church in the Chicago area.  In 1870, the Spaffords only son died of scarlet fever and then during the fire of 1871, Mr. Spafford lost much of his real estate holdings.

Because of the difficulties the family experienced in 1870 and 1871, the Spaffords decided that an extended European vacation was in order.  So they booked passage to England.  Just prior to their departure, however, Mr. Spafford was detained in the city on business but sent Anna and their four daughters on ahead of him.  On November 2, 1872, the ship that Mrs. Spafford and her children were on collided with another ship and sank within twelve minutes.  All four of the Spafford daughters died.  Mrs. Spafford was saved because a plank floated under her and kept her unconscious body from sinking in the cold Atlantic.  Her last memory of her daughters was of her baby being torn from her arms by the cold rushing water.  When she reached England, Anna sent a telegram to her husband stating, "Saved alone.  What shall I do?"

Horotio immediately boarded a ship sailing for England to be with his wife but asked the ship's captain to let him know when they were near the spot where his children had perished.  When the captain brought him to the deck as the ship neared the site of the wreckage, he informed Mr. Spafford that the water was at least three miles deep.  After contemplating his daughters' watery grave, Horotio went back to his cabin and penned the words to this well-loved hymn.

This part of the tragic story is somewhat familiar to most regular church-goers.  Many sermons have been preached on the courage and strength that Horotio drew upon to overcome unfathomable tragedy.  What is not as familiar, however, is the reaction of the Spaffords' church to their overwhelming loss.  Church elders believed that the tragedies had befallen the Spaffords due to secret sin and according to the church dogma, the children could not have gone to heaven.  At a time when comfort from their community of faith was most needed, the Spaffords experienced rejection, blame and were eventually expelled from the church.  Friends who supported them were expelled as well and it became a media scandal.  Ummm, sounds a bit familiar.


A daughter born after the tragedy later wrote about the family's life prior to 1872, "In Chicago, Father searched his life for explanation. Until now, it had flowed gently as a river.  Spiritual peace and worldly security had sustained his early years, his family life and his home.  All around him people were asking the unvoiced question, 'What guilt had brought this sweeping tragedy to Anna and Horotio Spafford?' Father became convinced that God was kind and that he would see his children again in heaven.  This thought calmed his heart but it was to bring Father into open conflict with what was then the Christian world." Source

It seems the notion of churches killing their wounded is not new nor is the tendency to blame victims of horrendous tragedy.  Expulsion, banning, finger-pointing and abusive "church discipline" are not new ideas, unfortunately.  I don't know how the Spaffords reconciled themselves to the rejection they experienced by their religious community; I don't know quite how any of us do.  My hope is that Horotio and Anna found peace in the arms of their Shepherd, even if they didn't in their church.  

I am encouraged by the communities that are springing up of disenfranchised former church attenders.  They are leaving organized religion because of abuses much like the Staffords experienced and they are finding each other.  They are banding together to heal, to encourage and to reform a system that has become unbelievably corrupt and dysfunctional.  I am privileged to be part of that group of people so can truly affirm that it is well with my soul.