I would rather disappoint you than resent you

At the tender age of almost 56 I came upon a stunning truth:

I would rather disappoint you than resent you.

This realization broke with the force of a house falling on me. (Don't worry. It was a small house.) As long-time readers know, I have confessed to turning myself inside out with anxiety when I think someone near and dear, or far and fatuous, is disappointed in me. The burden of disappointment settled early and dragged behind me into adulthood in long heavy tracks. Try to please. Distrust myself. I could never ever once and for all measure up. My parents were two engines at the front, then other relationships joined and maintained this invisible train. I would contort myself to minimize disappointment; rationalize discomfort, make a virtue of being low maintenance, try harder, dance faster. In countless efforts to appoint, I would fail and disappoint. I cried often. I knew bouts of rage. There is nothing so horrible as giving others the power to determine your worthiness. If I managed to push back a bit, to speak up for myself, then my willingness to work (aka suffer), along with my sincerity or loyalty would be called into question. Has that ever happened to you? But out of the blue, just before my birthday in May, things changed. 

How the House Fell

Hey, I said, this term I don’t have classes on Friday. If you need a place to stay for a long weekend, you are welcome here. The next exchange made it clear that only some of this information was absorbed. In the sudden evolution of plans, my limits were missed. It would be ideal, said dear one, if we could arrive on Friday, visit over the weekend, take care of business Monday, and stay into the week. Um. My heart began pounding. I have finally learned that I don’t process well in distress or isolation. So I told my dear one that I would talk things over with Ken and let the dear one know. Ken was out late that evening. I called my favorite female, my daughter. After my quick verbal sketch of the situation, she calmly said several wise things: Mom, you’re co-regulating. You’re not responsible for dear one’s anxiety. This was not what you offered. You really don’t have to do anything you don’t feel up to doing. Talk things over with Dad. You know what will be best for you, and I'm sure you'll do the right thing.Breathe. Feel gratitude for such an ally. Wonder at her wisdom. Look up the term co-regulate.

A House and a Tender Shoot

My daughter’s words steadied me. When I sorted through basic issues with Ken I had a short list to consider: 1) what is the situation 2) what do I want and 3) what I’m willing to give. For me, numbers 2 and 3 are radical notions in the context of setting limits in relationships. Setting limits? Call it profound—like having a house fall on you.

In order to set limits successfully one must see the situation for what it is, discern what one wants and is willing to give, and then respectfully communicate those things to the involved parties. Limits are not punishments, but rather lucid and respectful expressions of our needs and desires and capabilities. They allow us to be rational about situations that would otherwise make us foam at the mouth with fury. When we fail to set healthy limits we become bitter, angry, tiny-hearted people.” ~ Cheryl Strayed

Just after the house fell, something split open inside me. Like a seed. Then a tender shoot of truth pushed through the dark soil.

I would rather disappoint you than resent you.

I've carried a shit-ton of resentment as I tried to avoid or minimize the disappointment of others. In the process I have been: Bitter. Angry. Tiny-hearted. Enough of that! Farewell resentment.

Self-regulate

I called my dear one and outlined my offering. I didn’t rehearse my original invitation, but rather responded to the need expressed and outlined my need. Of course come. And I am happy to host you all until such-and-such day. After this I need my house and quiet again. I’m not a martyr. This invitation is made with a sense of ease and joy.Offering what I could do joyfully, instead of what was ideal for my dear one, I didn’t know what to expect. I decided that any distress and disappointment of the dear one would not push me to offer more than I was ready to give gladly. I breathed in: I’m only responsible for myself and my feelings. I breathed out: You are responsible for yours. I cannot manage or regulate how someone else relates to me, or receives who I am. Instead of co-regulating, I choose to self-regulate. The visit went well. I did not foam at the mouth or feel tiny-hearted and so I enjoyed my dear ones’ company.

Over to You

The question is simple. But it isn't easy. Disappoint or Resent? Which would you prefer? Which one aligns most with your values? Next time you feel your heart pounding, breathe. Step back. Sort the issues:

1. What is the situation?
2. What do you want?
3. What are you willing to give?
4. Communicate this with respect.

Send me a note and tell me how it goes  ❤

I love to think and write about life lessons & truths. I don't have everything figured out, but I enjoy wondering aloud with you. Let me know if you have a particular issue you'd like me to address.