My husband and I are foster parents. We have maintained a strong bond with a child who was previously in our care, making an effort to spend time with him whenever possible. However, this connection is entirely dependent on the responsiveness of his current caregiver.
The child recently had another milestone— a birthday— which we were unable to be a part of. Another loss. We reached out ahead of the birthday and waited all week to hear a response. As each day went by without communication, our despondency grew. We’ve been here before. The lack of reply was something we’d grown accustomed to. Still, it was disappointing.
We both dreaded the actual day coming to pass. Rather than honestly address our feelings, we each moved into our defenses— first came avoidance. We filled our time near to the brim with social engagements. With every interaction, I could sense emotions hovering just below the surface. Still, I pushed through.
Next came passive-aggressive behavior (a standard go-to for me). I found I was allowing minor frustrations with my husband to become magnified and was making indirect, biting comments toward him. My body language was negative. I wanted him to read my mind and draw near to me without my having to ask. My words and actions were having the opposite effect; I was pushing him away.
The evening progressed with another social obligation and was followed by us cleaning the kitchen. Maybe it’s just me, but I find that much of our conflict begins with a small kitchen clean up transgression. I was nagging my husband about his divergent approach to cleaning when he finally snapped. Fair enough. Things escalated for a few minutes before we had our breakthrough.
After about a minute of silence: “maybe we should give each other a pass today,” he said quietly, gulping after. We both moved toward each other, then held on for dear life as the feelings came. We were quiet as the tears fell, in that moment fully understanding each other. Our sadness, that core emotion we’d fought so hard to avoid, had space to be safely expressed. We experienced connection as we hugged and cried, then were able to talk about what the weekend had been like for each of us.
Cluing in to the defenses I regularly employ has been so helpful as I seek to become more emotionally aware and healthy. Even in the moment, I have begun to be able to identify: I’m avoiding, or I’m being passive-aggressive. This doesn’t always cause me to course-correct in the moment, but it’s becoming easier to move toward the thing I actually want, to allow myself to be vulnerable with what I feel and to experience connection.
In moments of calm, it is a good idea to familiarize ourselves with common defenses, acknowledging the ones we use most often. That way, as they begin to come up in our day to day lives, they will be easier to identify. When we can recognize defenses for what they are, we’ll be more able to set them aside and discover the emotion underneath. We all have core needs and desires that have corresponding emotions. The question is: will we allow those desires and emotions to be met in healthy ways by those closest to us, or will we allow our defenses to derail us from what we ultimately desire?
By Allison Wopata, Certified Clinical Trauma Specialist/Restorative Mentor