“I am nothing special; of this, I am sure. I am a common man with common thoughts, and I’ve led a common life. There are no monuments dedicated to me, and my name will soon be forgotten, but I’ve loved another with all my heart and soul, and to me, this has always been enough...” Nicholas Sparks, The Notebook
Many people have varying levels of abuse issues, I find, Mine, which I’ve never been able to write about much, was incest.
My mother was unhappy in her marriage and bitterly disappointed in her life.
My idea about abuse is not to dwell on it or focus on it at this point in my life it doesn’t matter much. I don’t feel sorry for myself or victimized by my life.
I feel sorry for my mother, and the pain and frustration that society imposed upon her.
She was victimized by life. She was trapped in a suffocating world and had nowhere to run. I believe feminism might have saved her life.
In her loneliness, she turned much of her need onto me.
I don’t need to go on about this, but one of the things she often said to me after fighting with my father was to say that she loved me intensely and that no one could or did ever love me as much as she did.
I remember thinking that I couldn’t find love elsewhere, I needed to depend on her. But that changed, as I became more independent myself.
As I grew older, these declarations of love made me increasingly uneasy, along with the physical intimacy that sometimes occurred, and I spent a lot of time dealing with it in therapy.
I heard the phrase often, too many times to count: nobody will ever love you as much as I do. Therefore, don’t put your trust in others.
But I never thought much about that particular phrase. My sister, who I called to talk about this, said it was like taking someone hostage.
Yesterday, I found myself planning to tell Maria that no one ever loved her the way I did. And I felt a shiver, a great discomfort, an awful sense of unease, even panic.
Then it hit me, and hard, and after all this time.
What an awful thing to say to a child, spouse, or lover.
Why did I need to be the only one who could love Maria deeply and completely? Why wouldn’t I wish for lots of people to love her as much as I do?
Wasn’t it inappropriate for me to say this, even to my wife?
If you deconstruct the phrase and consider it, it is not about love at all. It is about possession and manipulation.
That is an awful thing to say to a child. Or a wife. Or to anyone you actually love.
For me, the beginning of love is to let those we love to be perfectly themselves and never to try to persuade them or twist them to fit our own image.
Love is acceptance and understanding, never coercion.
My mother was pressuring me, trying to persuade me that no one in the world but she could love me in the way I needed.
The more I thought about it, the more uncomfortable it made me. Eventually, that intensity and incestuousness were to destroy our relationship and drive me away from her.
That was not what she wanted, I am sure. But it was what I needed to do.
She never learned what I learned, that real love has no such strings attached to it, no such coercion.
When my mother said it, it wasn’t love, and when I said it, it wasn’t love either. It was something that came out of me and my selfish need.
“I love you,” says it well, and I try to say this to Maria as often as I can, every day if possible. I love her a great deal, but it’s creepy to try to persuade her that no one can ever love her as much as I do.
If I die before her, I hope she will encounter many people who love her as much as I do; she is exceptional, smart, loving, generous, and gifted.
My mother was wrong in using a child as a love replacement for a distant and uncaring husband. It was not something she should have put on me, and as I grew up, this behavior made me so uncomfortable I could not bear to be close to her or, eventually, even around her.
Nothing about that phrase is loving; that kind of possessiveness, intensity, and selfishness is the very opposite of love, which is about being selfish and wanting the people we love to be loved with strings, or pressure, or guilt.
I learn about love every day. What I ended up saying to Maria was this: “Maria, I hope you know how much I love you and admire you. You have brought light and meaning into my life, and it has been the joy of a lifetime to see you grow and thrive and love me back.”
Beautiful Jon. To love and be loved in this way is truly free.
It is beautiful to love without needing to possess. And without strings. My mother told me often that she didn’t know what she would do without me. (My sister was very troubled and my father spent his available time trying to fix her, abandoning me and my mother emotionally). So I felt a heavy burden for years until I went away for college. After that I spent my life on the opposite side of the continent for many years.
Thankfully we were able to get close in a healthy way before she died. She was not mothered well herself.
I so appreciate your sharing yourself so honestly, and inspiring me to try to do the same.
Jon, it was brave of you to tell us about you childhood. So many children seem to internalize their parents bad behavior and start believing it was their fault. Your blog kind of broke my heart, but it also made me think. I’m an old lady and it has taken me years to admit that I was a non-entity in our home. Let’s just say I wasn’t the favorite child. I think I was a mistake. Unfortunately, I internalized this fact and I accepted less than good behavior from family members and from my ex-husband who was physically and emotionally abusive. I should never have allowed others to treat me with so little respect. That falls on me partly but my childhood experiences destroyed my self-respect. Thank you for this blog.
Your bravery in talking about this is a gift for others who have been wounded. Thank you
Its also a gift to those who may have unknowingly caused some wounds. As one who has been fortunate not to have been treated this way, I’m sure I could’ve been more kind and understanding to those who may have been abused.
Jon, a friend who was molested by her father said that he told her ” I love you, no one else will ever love you” sadly, this sounds like a common pattern. Thank you for sharing – it must have been difficult – but also so helpful to those of us who had similar experiences of having to separate from parents who did not have our best interests at heart or, as I so well know, actually endangered our lives . . . it gives us perspective on our decisions and helps to know we were not alone and others have survived this and thrived. Love that you have Maria in your life!
“Real love has no strings attached to it.” That is my takeaway from you today. You spoke volumes to me in this simple little article. No one is who someone else thinks they are. I appreciate your healthy way of loving your wife. And, no one should put that on a child, although they do. I echo the sentiments of the Wisconsin Jean, childhood experiences develop the lack of confidence we have in ourselves. Thank you Jon, once again, for your message. It gives us hope to muddle through, and come out on the other end!
Lovely picture of Maria! I’m at just about the same page of the same book! Thank you, Jon, for suggesting the Vera Stanhope mysteries. This is the third in her series and it’s just as gripping as the first two.