Dance of Anger: A Woman's Guide to Changing the Patterns of Intimate Relationships (5 page)

Women who fall into the peace-maker or “nice lady” category are by no means passive, wishy-washy losers. Quite to the contrary, we have developed an important and complex interpersonal skill that requires a great deal of inner activity and sensitivity. We are good at anticipating other people’s reactions, and we are experts at protecting others from uncomfortable feelings. This is a highly developed social skill that is all too frequently absent in men. If only we could take this very same skill and redirect it inward in order to become experts on our own selves.

What happens if there is not enough “we” in our relationship? The result may be a case of “emotional divorce.” Two people can end up isolated and alone in an empty-shell marriage where they do not share personal feelings and experiences. When the “separateness force” is overriding, an “I-don’t-need-you” attitude may be expressed by one or both partners—a stance that is a far cry from a truly autonomous position. There may be little fighting in the relationship, but little closeness as well.

What happens if there is not enough “I” in our relationship? Here, we sacrifice our clear and separate identity and our sense of responsibility for, and control over, our own life. When the “togetherness force” is overriding, a lot of energy goes into trying to “be for” the other person, and trying to make the other person think or behave differently. Instead of taking responsibility for our own selves, we tend to feel responsible for the emotional well-being of the other person and hold the other person responsible for ours. When this reversal of individual responsibility is set in motion, each partner may become very emotionally reactive to what the other says and does, and there may be a lot of fighting and blaming, as in Barbara’s case.

Another outcome of excessive togetherness is a pseudo-harmonious “we,” where there is little overt conflict because a submissive spouse accepts the “reality” of the dominant spouse, or both may behave as if they share a common brain and bloodline. The “urge to merge” may be universal, but when acted out in extreme forms, these “fusion relationships” place us in a terribly vulnerable position. If two people become one, a separation can feel like a psychological or a physical death. We may have nothing—not even a self to fall back on—when an important relationship ends.

We all need to have both an “I” and a “we” that nourish and give meaning to each other. There is no formula for the “right” amount of separateness and togetherness for all couples or even for the same couple over time. Each member of a couple is constantly monitoring the balance of these two forces, automatically and unconsciously making moves to restore more separateness (when anxiety about fusion sets in) or more togetherness (when anxiety about unrelatedness sets in). The balance of these two forces is constantly in motion in every couple. One common “solution” or “division of labor” that couples unconsciously arrange is that the woman will express the wish for “togetherness”; the man, the wish for “separateness.” We will be taking a closer look at this dance between the “pursuing female” and the “distancing male” in Chapter 3.

If we are chronically angry or bitter in a particular relationship, that may be a message to clarify and strengthen the “I” a bit more. We must re-examine our own selves with a view toward discovering what we think, feel, and want and what we need to do differently in our lives. The more we carve out a clear and separate “I,” the more we can experience and enjoy both intimacy and aloneness. Our intimacy need not be “sameness” or “oneness” or loss of self; our aloneness and separateness need not be distance and isolation.

Why is strengthening the “I” such a difficult task? There are many factors, but if we keep a narrow focus on the here and now, Barbara’s situation illustrates how scary it can be to move to a higher level of clarity and assertiveness. Barbara could not give up her old ways and try out some new ones without experiencing an anxiety-arousing feeling of separateness and without making waves in her marriage. Since this is true in all relationships, let’s take a closer look.

What stopped Barbara from achieving this kind of clarity? Why would any of us end up as chronic fighters and complainers, rather than identify our problems and choices and clarify our position? No, women do not gain a secret masochistic gratification from being in the victimized, one-down position. Quite to the contrary, the woman who sits at the bottom of a seesaw marriage accumulates a great amount of rage, which is in direct proportion to the degree of her submission and sacrifice.

The dilemma is that we may unconsciously be convinced that our important relationships can survive only if we continue to remain one down. To do better—to become clearer, to act stronger, to be more separate, to take action on our own behalf—may be unconsciously equated with a destructive act that will diminish and threaten our partner, who might then retaliate or leave. Sometimes, to develop a stronger “I” is to come to terms with our deep-seated wish to leave an unsatisfactory marriage, and this possibility may be no less frightening than the fear of being left.

Perhaps Barbara is not ready to face the risk of putting her husband and herself to the test of whether change is possible. She may already be convinced that the relationship cannot tolerate much change. She may be caught between a rock and a hard place: Neither is she ready to say to herself, “I am choosing to stay in this unhappy marriage with a man who is not going to change,” nor can she clarify a bottom line and say, “If these things do not change, I will leave.” Or perhaps Barbara is not yet ready to face anxiety or the “funny depression” that often hits us when we take a clearer and more separate stance in a meaningful relationship.
Fighting and blaming is sometimes a way both to protest and to protect the status quo when we are not quite ready to make a move in one direction or another.

We meet with a countermove or “Change back!” reaction from the other person whenever we begin to give up the old ways of silence, vagueness, or ineffective fighting and begin to make clear statements about the needs, wants, beliefs, and priorities of the self. In fact, Murray Bowen, the originator of Bowen Family Systems Theory, emphasizes the fact that in
all
families there is a powerful opposition to one member defining a more independent self. According to Bowen, the opposition invariably goes in successive steps:

What are some common countermoves? We may be accused of coldness, disloyalty, selfishness, or disregard for others. (“How could you upset your mother by saying that to her!”) We may receive verbal or nonverbal threats that the other person will withdraw or terminate the relationship. (“We can’t be close if you feel that way.” “How can we have a relationship if you really mean that?”) Countermoves take any number of forms. For example, a person may have an asthma attack or even a stroke.

Countermoves are the other person’s unconscious attempt to restore a relationship to its prior balance or equilibrium, when anxiety about separateness and change gets too high. Other people do not make countermoves simply because they are dominating, controlling, or chauvinistic. They may or may not be these things, but that is almost beside the point. Countermoves are an expression of anxiety, as well as of closeness and attachment.

Our job is to keep clear about our own position in the face of a countermove—not to prevent it from happening or to tell the other person that he or she should not be reacting that way. Most of us want the impossible.
We want to control not only our own decisions and choices but also the other person’s
reactions
to them. We not only want to make a change; we want the other person to
like
the change that we make. We want to move ahead to a higher level of assertiveness and clarity and then receive praise and reinforcement from those very people who have chosen us for our old familiar ways.

Countermoves aside, our
own
resistance to change is just as formidable a force. Barbara’s position in her marriage, for example, may have roots in patterns that go back for many generations. Barbara’s mother and other women relatives who came before her may have assumed a de-selfed position in marriage, or may have paired up with de-selfed husbands. There may not be a tradition in Barbara’s family for marriages in which
both
partners can be clear and competent in making decisions about their own lives and negotiating differences. All of us are deeply affected by the patterns and traditions of past generations even if—and especially if—we are not consciously aware of them. Like many women, Barbara may feel guilty if she strives to have for herself what her own mother could not. Deep in her unconscious mind, Barbara may view her attempt at self-assertion as an act of disloyalty—a betrayal not only of her husband but also of generations of women in her family. If this is the case, she will unconsciously resist the changes that she seeks.

To complicate matters further, unresolved issues from our past inevitably surface in our current relationships. If Barbara is stuck in a pattern of chronic marital fighting and blaming, that may be a sign that she has not negotiated her separateness and independence within her first family and that she needs to do some work here (see Chapter 4). How well is Barbara able to take a firm position on important issues with members of her first family? Is she able to make clear and direct statements of her own thoughts and feelings? Is she able to be who she is and not what other family members want or expect her to be—and allow others to do the same? If Barbara is having difficulty staying in emotional contact with living members of her first family and defining a clear and separate “I” within this context, she may have difficulty doing so in her marriage. As a psychotherapist I often help women to clarify and to change their relationships with siblings, parents, and grandparents so that underground family conflicts and patterns will not be replayed—nor buried anger and anxieties pop up—in another close relationship, making for a painful degree of reactivity to others.

All couples fight over pseudo issues some of the time, and often with great intensity. I will never forget the very first couple I saw in marital therapy. There in my office they sat, quarreling bitterly over whether they would eat their dinner that evening at McDonald’s or Long John Silver’s. Each of these intelligent people put forth the most compelling arguments regarding the relative merits of hamburger or fish, and neither would give an inch. Being new at marital therapy, I was not quite certain how to be helpful to this couple, but I did know one thing for sure: The impassioned argument I was witnessing between two people who were obviously in a great deal of pain had nothing to do with the respective value of burgers and fish.