Bea V. Larsen . . . .Commentaries |
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Bea V. Larsen is a Senior Mediator at the Center for Resolution of Disputes in |
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Blame/Guilt This entry was posted on 11/22/2008 9:45 AM and is filed under Relationship Dynamics. She said: I feel terrible. You’ve ruined my life. Her husband, silent, sat at the other end of my long office couch, awash in guilt. He had made the final decision to divorce, but his compassion for his wife was sincere. I wanted to somehow calm and comfort them both, reassure him by saying that relationships rarely fail for simple one-sided reasons, and assure her that I empathized with her misery. But I said nothing, and in a few moments her tears lessened and she regained control. She apologized to me for her outburst. I said: no need. The blaming was over, for now. We returned to talk about their budget, how the family could best share their joint income. Nine months of marital counseling ended just weeks before they began mediation. Did she really believe that she had no part to play as they drifted apart, moved into separate bedrooms? At times it seemed so. But she was mature enough to hold on to their determination to end things as amicably as possible and preserve as much stability as they could for their children. Husbands and wives, partners, inevitably both delight and disappoint each other. Delight, that’s easy. But disappointment too often gives rise to both blame and guilt . With the tearful scene in my office still vivid, I bring back to mind the guilt I felt for many years for having failed Len. From the beginning, he and I talked through and jointly made important decisions. Then as our years together multiplied, we often wordlessly simply accommodated to the other’s wishes, knowing for which of us a particular outcome mattered most. At least that’s the way I now choose to remember it. Usually worked well. But there was an exception. I knew Len yearned to live his life near water, by the sea or a large lake. Either would do, so long as he could experience its wonders and the tranquility vast waters offered him. And, of course, the fishing potential! But with his new PhD, a wife and young children in hand, life took us to his job in land-locked Ohio, when college teaching posts were hard to come by. Law school followed for me and some years later my growing successful practice became another anchor. He gloried in his summer teaching work when the family roughed it, joining him in the Rocky Mountains, where clear roiling trout streams filled his every spare hour. But in the grayness of midwest winters, he yearned to move and often seemed sad. Witnessing this, not sharing his wish to leave, I avoided addressing his apparent unhappiness, but my guilt was at times intense. Today, I still clearly recall a conversation about this, with my wise psychologist friend, that caused me to shift mental gears. She suggested that as adults we are each responsible to make those decisions that are important to our own well being. Of course. Len could have developed a specific plan to move and proposed it. But he made no serious search for other job options, in effect choosing to foster my career over his own. But he was not passive. He learned to fly, and with the help of my additional income bought a small plane, and (later opting for early retirement) for over twenty-five years flew away with like-minded students and friends to wherever the geology was exciting and the fish were biting, exploring the Great Lakes, National Parks, and Alaska. We each had our cake. With some divorcing couples, parties maintain that in the effort to avoid conflict, they chose to abdicate the decider role. Then when conflict takes center stage, they look back and resent having lost their authenticity, the power to direct their own life, wishing they had taken other paths. But with certain exceptions, families subjected to violence, and single parents of young children, adults are responsible for designing their own destiny. The blame game is neither fair nor in the long run satisfying. Nor is the guilt. |
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