11th May, 2008
Question
I'm a single, middle-aged woman. For the past six years I've been in a relationship with a divorced man who is good kind, decent and committed to me.
My life has improved in many ways since I met him. Depression has receded, I've discovered new career opportunities, and feel quite a distance from the rocky years of eating disorders, bad work moves and psychiatric hospitalisation.
Despite all this, my mind is pre-occupied with negative thoughts about my partner, despite knowing that he's the kindest man I've ever met. Perhaps this is part of my self-loathing, wondering what kind of person would love me as he clearly does. I'm acutely tuned into every nuance of his behaviour, every aspect of his behaviour, and find them all intensely irritating. I try my very best to behave in a positive way, but I know that, generally speaking, my attitude is not kindly. I do keep a lid on it, most of the time, which seems to keep us together.
I don't want to lose him. I want to be in this relationship because I love him and not because of the distance I've travelled since meeting him. When we first met, my joy was endless. He was more reticent. It now seems that the roles have reversed. He has grown into a more mature love, while I still want the mad heady stuff, even at my age.
I regret this path of self-destruction that I seem to be on, which is taking me back to the dark place I was in before I met my partner. I would love to think we could be together always. I'm lost.
Answer
Ah. Gratitude is hard to do isn't it? I don't just mean gratitude towards a partner - although a bit of that mightn't come amiss. I mean gratefulness for our good fortune. We welcome it with open arms, and then rage at the reality don't we? What I hope to let you see is that this has nothing to do with your partner. He just happens to be there.
Gratitude is grounded in self-esteem. Luck, love, kindness, tenderness, care, consideration - none of them can be truly taken on board unless we unabashedly believe we're worth it. And believing you're worth it isn't just some simple statement, some surface arrogance, a question of putting on a pretty face. It's a quiet confidence, deeply felt, that we deserve to be treated well. You haven't got that confidence. Instead, your self-belief is tentative.
Deep down we all have an almost innate feeling of fair play, which says we're worthy. We're born with it. For many of us, however, early learning teaches us differently, tells us we are bad, unlovable, unworthy. That leaves us with a fractured sense of self. And we go into emotional hiding. Or lead shadow lives, as Tony Humphreys might say in his marvellous book 'Whose Life are You Living?'
You know this, you've given me the list - depression, eating disorders, poor career moves, psychiatric hospitalisations. Not a happy history, but the first step to self-esteem is to understand that all of it was necessary. Your emotional history, like everyone's, was about psychological survival, a courageous attempt to handle the negative messages, to stay safe, to hang on to that stubborn sense of self-worth. Your psyche was doing its level best, being truly creative. Don't knock it.
And then you got lucky, met the nice man, and several things happened almost simultaneously. That basic belief in yourself rejoiced. At the same time, deep-felt anger at the injustice of not being properly recognised all your life began to surface. And to cap it all, the damaged part of you began to doubt your luck, began to wonder if you deserve the love this man brings.
Think of two continental shelves - like they have in California - grinding into each other and throwing up earthquakes, which shake up places like Los Angeles. Your deep belief in yourself, and your almost equally strong self-doubt, are now clashing. That seismic shift has you, almost literally, grinding your teeth. And you lash out - or think angry irritable impatient thoughts - about your partner. Inner turmoil is always easier if we pretend it's external - which is why we kick the dog, find the husband excruciatingly annoying, focus on what others do wrong, rather than focussing on our own internal distress.
There's a battle going on, and the combatants are old mates of yours, self-belief and self-belittling. This is known territory, old ground you've gone over lots of times. You're a seasoned campaigner. You're not going to give in now are you? Do talk therapy. Check out your depression with your doctor. That edgy irritability can be a mild form of mania. And mania is merely a desperate bid at flying the flag of self-belief, when your old demons try to do you down.
Nurture that self-belief. Listen with love to that courageous voice which insists she's worth it. And have a little more faith in your man, who doesn't love foolishly, but well.
