Gwynn Raimondi, MA

Breathing, Noticing, Praying

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I come up for air and I start to notice.

I notice that her eyes don’t light up like they used to.

I notice that she’ll start to ask me to play with her and then interupts herself and says “never mind.”

I notice that her laugh sounds forced.

I notice a sadness emitting from her, when there once was such joy.

I take a deep breathe and I start to notice.

I notice my tone isn’t as gentle as I’d like it to be.

I notice more agitated sighs escaping my lips.

I notice how lost I feel in this parenting journey.

I slowly exhale and I start to notice.

I notice her. I notice me. I notice the disconnection.

And in this disconnection there is a deeper connection. I remember how it was when I became a big sister. I remember how I felt so lost and abandoned. I remember how the baby made everyone laugh and smile and all I could seem to do was annoy everyone.

I remember how much I needed my mom. I remember how very little I still was. Even though I was “older.”

And so I breathe. In and out. And I remember I can change this story.

She comes to me, scared, worried I will be mad or irritated. And she timidly asks if I could do bedtime, even though it’s not my night. And this time, I got it right and I say “Of course.”  And we brush our teeth and I read her stories and sing her songs and hold her close.

She starts to ask me to play, but interrupts herself, again. And this time, I get it right and say “Let’s go play in your room.” And we play dolls, and laugh and start to connect.

I pray more of these moments happen. I pray for more patience and clarity and understanding. I pray for her eyes to light up again. I pray for her laughter to rise up from her belly and not be forced from her throat. I pray for me to become the mama I want to be.

I breathe in and out. I allow myself to soften. Knowing in this softness is wisdom, strength. I soften for her, remembering what it is like to be that little girl. Knowing the criticism does more harm than good. Knowing these stories that live in me about what proper girls do and don’t are only that: stories, not truths. And slowly, painstakingly slowly, I release them and let her be.

And in letting her be, I am allowing myself to be. In allowing her imperfection, I allow mine. As I wrap her in my arms, I wrap myself. And slowly, painstakingly slowly, we heal.

And I know in those moments, we’ll be okay. Both of us, each of us, will be okay.

 

Accepting love

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The first couple of weeks after I came home from my week at school were a bit rough on my girl and me. We kept trying to reconnect and not quite making it. There were a lot of tears, from both of us, feelings of rejection and being misunderstood.

I felt frustrated because she would say she wanted to do this or that with me, state that we just weren’t getting enough time together, and then when I would try to play whatever game she requested, or the do the thing she wanted, she would get angry if I asked too many questions or didn’t do something or the other exactly as she wanted.

Or so, that’s how it looked on the outside.

My feelings were hurt yes, and yes I was frustrated because I too wanted desperately to reconnect with my daughter. I wanted to play and be silly and have fun. I put off doing housework and business work so that we could have time together.

I knew how her heart was hurting. I knew that her lashing out both had everything and nothing to do with me. I knew that her survival mechanisms were trying to protect her from further separation, further hurt. I knew that in oh-so-many ways she wasn’t really in control of her reactions–they were primal, coming up from her reptilian brain.

I persevered. It was hard at times. There were moments when I started to slip back into my reptilian brain also, times when my feelings were hurt so deeply, times when my frustration would start to get the best of me and I would start to spiral into anger.

In those hard moments I would find my breath, find myself. I would remind myself all I know of attachment. I would remind myself all I know of development. I would remind myself how her “rejection” was stirring up my own childhood wounds of rejection and abandonment and while my response was triggered by her it really had little to do with her. I would remind myself I was the parent, the adult.

Most of the time this worked. Not every time. There was repair work I did over the last couple weeks too, apologizing after cruel words slipped out of my mouth, giving lots of hugs and snuggles, listening to heartbeats, tickling and playing and finding ways to get us both back into the present moment.

Today my girl and I played a game she made up. It was something like hockey, but somewhat different. We played in the garage with a ball and some tree branches, she led the play and I followed, adding in questions and comments and saying “I’m open” or “I need to pass” on queue. It was fun and I felt like we deeply connected while playing. My girl’s eyes were so lit up and I could see how excited she was that here we were playing a game of her own creation.

This parenting thing changes us, fundamentally. I’ve shifted and adapted and grown to love play, something I once avoided at all costs. I had read Lawrence Cohen’s Playful Parenting (which I highly recommend to all parents) and I intellectually understood the value and power of play, and yet my body had so much resistance. I have used a timer to help me move past my anxiety, to put limits that my brain and body could handle, to ease play into my experience, into my body, into my heart.

As time has moved forward I’ve found myself enjoying play more and more. I’ve left the timer behind. I’ve opened myself to the deep connection my daughter and I have. More importantly I have come to accept her beautiful unconditional love.

Accepting unconditional love from another person is terrifying, overwhelming and powerful. When we are able to accept the love of another we are opening ourselves to healing our past hurts as well as opening ourselves to the possibility of future hurts. It is the fear of the the potential future hurts that blocks so many of us from accepting love and kindness from others. Fear stops us from deeply feeling the love each and every one of us is meant to feel from another or to experience the profound joy that comes with the experience of that love.

These last two weeks I have shed tears and held my girl while she shed hers. I have examined my own reactions, repaired when appropriate, owned my own shit, and understood and empathized with where my girl is in each moment. And while we didn’t play Barbies yesterday due to her own frustrations and primal defense mechanisms, we did play a rousing game of something like hockey, but not quite, today, where we both laughed and played, where we felt connected and understood. I accepted my girl’s love and she accepted mine.

This is where my growth and transformation is. In the accepting. In the acknowledging. In releasing my deeply internalized myths of not being worthy or good enough. In moving through the fear. In loving another and deeply breathing her love for me, finding joy and peace in her love.

We find our transformation in our relationships. We find love, peace and joy through our connections. We heal and repair our broken hearts by moving into vulnerability and allowing others in. We love and accept love as though our very lives depended upon it. Because quite frankly, they do.

A vision page created from the prompt "I accept." I accept: (my) Dearest Living love Jewel. Yes I do.
A vision page created from the prompt “I accept.” I accept: (my) Dearest Living love Jewel. Yes I do.

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Love and Repair

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Love is a very special kind of emotional bond, the need for which is wired into our brain by millions of years of evolution. 

– Sue Johnson, author of Hold Me Tight and co-founder of Emotionally Focused Therapy

We’re social creatures, humans. We need to have another person in our lives who loves us, who will be there to support us, who has our back, no matter what. For children this other person would be a parent. For adults it would be our romantic partner or a sibling or very close friend.  Having this other person is fundamental to our resilience in regard to stress and trauma. Having this other person allows us to be free to explore our world and express our true self.

As a child I didn’t have that kind of support or bond with my parents. Now that I’m an adult, I have that person. My husband is truly amazing. He is patient. He is supportive. He loves me, truly unconditionally. He’s not perfect, none of us are, however he is truly perfect for me.

I forget that sometimes.

Sometimes I get wrapped up in my old myths. You know, those stories a lot of us have about not being worthy of love; that we can’t trust another person to take care of us. Or sometimes I get so spun up that I can’t even see how much he loves me, because of all my old stories or my own panic mode is activated for some reason which leaves me terrified of being abandoned.

I have seen this panic in my daughter in the past. It usually came out when I was in my own panic mode and shutting down, going into my own self-preservation mode, leaving me unable to truly provide the connection that my daughter needs to feel safe.

I’ve become an expert at repair.

The key to repair isn’t about simply saying “I’m sorry”. True repair happens as we reach out and start to authentically connect with the Other. Those steps to connection – to strengthening the attachment bonds – are basically the same whether we are repairing with our child, with our spouse or partner or with a close friend or sibling. These steps can be challenging, because it requires me to step a bit out of my own myth and story to and actually see and hear the other person. Letting go of those old stories can be scary and yet, so very freeing and exhilarating.

The best part of stepping into deep connection repair is how it has opened my life to joy. How many more peaceful moments and loving days I get to have with my family. How my husband and I can always come back together after a separation and go straight into a deep connection without being stuck in old stories about ourselves, each other or our relationship.

I am deeply in-love with my life. I want you to be deeply in-love with your life too, to have authentic and connected relationships with those close to you. Because of my longing for you to have this sense of peace and joy, I have developed an on-line program, sharing these steps to repair and connection. Included in the program are daily emails as well as personal one-to-one email correspondence. Once the program has ended you will also have the opportunity to have either a telephone or skype session with me, as I truly want to know how you are doing and help you work through any place in the steps you may be stuck.

Today I release my program, Repairing in Relationship,  to you. We will start on the traditional day of love, February 14 and work together for seven weeks exploring the steps to repair and reconnection. I’m looking forward to helping you and your family find your way to peace, love and joy.

Repairing in Relationship w url