"The early attachment bond between child and parent leads to the construction of an internal working model, or set of expectations about attachment figures, that serves as a guide for close relationships throughout life. These three patterns of attachment are Secure, Avoidant and Resistant."
Avoidant Attachment
Adults who reported an avoidant attachment history (demanding, disrespectful and critical parenting) displayed internal working models that stressed independence, mistrust of love partners and anxiety about people getting too close. They were convinced that others disliked them and that romantic love is hard to find and rarely lasts. Jealousy, emotional distance, lack of support in response to their partner's distress, and little enjoyment of physical contact pervaded their most important love relationship.
Tuesday, April 17, 2012
Monday, April 16, 2012
Sunday, April 15, 2012
Things About Me You Might Not Know
- I love the movie Cars. I love all the Pixar films very much, but Lightning McQueen really gets to me every time.
- All of my personality tests point me towards being an extrovert, but I sometimes wonder if I'm a bit of an introvert, too. Mainly because I really like staying home on Friday nights and not being around people. In fact, I really like to be alone. When D is out of town, I never want to go out because I get to wander around my apartment in my pajamas doing as I please. I guess that makes me kind of weird.
- I prefer sleeping upside down - meaning putting my feet on my pillow and sleeping at the foot of the bed. I don't get to do it very often because it annoys the heck out of D (can't blame him) but it's my favorite nap position.
- Some things I suck at: Geography. Politics. Remembering names. Being observant. Saying no. Parallel parking. Going to bed on time.
- Some things I don't suck at: Public-speaking. Writing. Organization. Cleaning. Cooking. Cultivating relationships with people.
- I wear Crocs when I'm at home. They're ridiculously ugly but they make my hardwood floors much less painful. They're purple.
- I grew up with a Siberian Husky named Kayla. She was put down when I was 15. She is the only family member I have ever lost to death thus far in my life.
- I am not religious but I believe in the power of dreams/the sub-conscious, ghosts and goodwill. I was raised Catholic but refused my confirmation at the age of 12. I do not follow any organized religion.
- My favorite beverages are water and tea (unsweetened, no milk). I don't like the carbonation and artificial flavor in pop. I don't like the creamy richness in milk. I find the flavor in juice to be too tart or sweet (I used to water down my orange juice). When I do drink coffee, I like it really strong.
- I am a constant list-maker.
- All of my personality tests point me towards being an extrovert, but I sometimes wonder if I'm a bit of an introvert, too. Mainly because I really like staying home on Friday nights and not being around people. In fact, I really like to be alone. When D is out of town, I never want to go out because I get to wander around my apartment in my pajamas doing as I please. I guess that makes me kind of weird.
- I prefer sleeping upside down - meaning putting my feet on my pillow and sleeping at the foot of the bed. I don't get to do it very often because it annoys the heck out of D (can't blame him) but it's my favorite nap position.
- Some things I suck at: Geography. Politics. Remembering names. Being observant. Saying no. Parallel parking. Going to bed on time.
- Some things I don't suck at: Public-speaking. Writing. Organization. Cleaning. Cooking. Cultivating relationships with people.
- I wear Crocs when I'm at home. They're ridiculously ugly but they make my hardwood floors much less painful. They're purple.
- I grew up with a Siberian Husky named Kayla. She was put down when I was 15. She is the only family member I have ever lost to death thus far in my life.
- I am not religious but I believe in the power of dreams/the sub-conscious, ghosts and goodwill. I was raised Catholic but refused my confirmation at the age of 12. I do not follow any organized religion.
- My favorite beverages are water and tea (unsweetened, no milk). I don't like the carbonation and artificial flavor in pop. I don't like the creamy richness in milk. I find the flavor in juice to be too tart or sweet (I used to water down my orange juice). When I do drink coffee, I like it really strong.
- I am a constant list-maker.
Thursday, April 12, 2012
Hypothetical Therapy
If I had a therapist, I'm sure they would ask me the hard questions. The questions I ask myself when I'm struggling to fall asleep - and then stay up for hours thinking about.
One of them is what it would take to fix my relationship with my family. What they would have to do to make things okay. What I would have to do or hear, to move on from this.
This question is how I know I'm not okay. Why I should really be in therapy. Because when I try to think of how I would answer, I would tell them that nothing will ever make this okay. We are irrevocably broken. We are unfixable. Nothing will ever make our relationship totally normal, because it never was normal in the first place.
We were constantly in a state of flux. Between fighting, and not fighting. Between me being a "great daughter, don't-know-what-I-would-do-without-you," and not even receiving a phonecall when my mother was in the hospital. Not being there when they opened presents on Christmas Day. Not getting cakes on my birthdays. Looking back, the good days seem so superficial now, and the bad days seem so dysfunctional.
Here's the thing about this question. In my mind, it's like asking a person who recently lost their legs in an accident what they would do if they could walk again. It's a nice idea. It might invoke some memories, a feeling of hopefulness, a dream. But at the end of the day, their legs are gone. And no amount of questions are going to bring them back. So they might as well move on with their life.
One of them is what it would take to fix my relationship with my family. What they would have to do to make things okay. What I would have to do or hear, to move on from this.
This question is how I know I'm not okay. Why I should really be in therapy. Because when I try to think of how I would answer, I would tell them that nothing will ever make this okay. We are irrevocably broken. We are unfixable. Nothing will ever make our relationship totally normal, because it never was normal in the first place.
We were constantly in a state of flux. Between fighting, and not fighting. Between me being a "great daughter, don't-know-what-I-would-do-without-you," and not even receiving a phonecall when my mother was in the hospital. Not being there when they opened presents on Christmas Day. Not getting cakes on my birthdays. Looking back, the good days seem so superficial now, and the bad days seem so dysfunctional.
Here's the thing about this question. In my mind, it's like asking a person who recently lost their legs in an accident what they would do if they could walk again. It's a nice idea. It might invoke some memories, a feeling of hopefulness, a dream. But at the end of the day, their legs are gone. And no amount of questions are going to bring them back. So they might as well move on with their life.
Monday, April 9, 2012
Needing
I spend a lot of time thinking about my parents. Mainly, about my feelings about them. Lately, I've been trying to figure out what I'm feeling. And more importantly, why.
Last year, and the year before that, I spent a lot of time with a family that I loved. A family that I watched change, and grow, and challenge, and succeed. I watched a mother who loved her kids so deeply - they became her entire world. It was like she would literally move heaven and earth if she could make herself present in her children's worlds. And at first, this puzzled me. Confused me, even. But over time, I realized that no, it amazed me. And it made me realize what I had been missing as a child.
Looking back at my childhood and even my early adulthood, my parents did not love me the way I needed them to. And not to play the blame game, as I was certainly not the most perfect child at times. But at those times, when life was hardest for me, they failed me as parents. They failed to stand by me and give me the support that I needed, when I needed it the most.
I was raised to be an independent person. If you were to ask my mother or my father, it is one of my more notable qualities. And while I used to think it was one of my more admirable strengths, but I have begun to see it as one of my greatest weaknesses. My parents are proud of the fact that I can stand on my own two feet, that I function completely independently and don't ever seem to need people to support me.
But really, who wants somebody who doesn't seem to need them back?
As a child, I wanted a parent who was going to sing my praises. My parents were not the complimentary type - my father was constantly telling me to stop staring at myself in the mirror - "You're so conceited." Humility was one of their stressed wishes for my personality and while I do admit that it is a quality that many people should have perhaps learned early in life - it isn't one that often makes you feel good. Just like any other child, I had many interests and talents when I was growing up. But in order to motivate me, my parents were quick to point out my shortcomings. What I could do better. Where I could improve. It was just the way they were taught to encourage, and while I'm sure they meant it to drive my success, it really only drove a wedge into our relationship.
The thing is, I don't feel like I deserved a gold sticker for every grade. I don't think they needed to pat me on the head for learning how to drive, for cleaning my room, for dressing myself in the morning. But it was the little things, the things that ever parent notices about their child, and can never say enough. To tell me that I was smart, that I showed initiative, that they appreciated my drive, my passion. To tell me I was beautiful, I was worthwhile, I was creative, that they were proud. When I moved out at 18, to tell me how glad they were that I took that step, became an adult. To even say that they missed me. My parents, for all the things they are, are not communicative. And there are a lot of things that they never told me.
The child and parent relationship is one of expectations and disappointments. And in time, in this last year particularly, I taught myself to rid myself of their expectations, and I also removed mine of them. I stopped mourning the parental relationships that I never had - a friendship, an unfailing love, an unquestioning faith. I have many disappointments, as I'm sure they do as well. But not in myself anymore. If they've taught me anything, it's that sometimes, you need someone. Sometimes you need love.
But sometimes, you don't. When you really need it, you, on your own - are enough.
Last year, and the year before that, I spent a lot of time with a family that I loved. A family that I watched change, and grow, and challenge, and succeed. I watched a mother who loved her kids so deeply - they became her entire world. It was like she would literally move heaven and earth if she could make herself present in her children's worlds. And at first, this puzzled me. Confused me, even. But over time, I realized that no, it amazed me. And it made me realize what I had been missing as a child.
Looking back at my childhood and even my early adulthood, my parents did not love me the way I needed them to. And not to play the blame game, as I was certainly not the most perfect child at times. But at those times, when life was hardest for me, they failed me as parents. They failed to stand by me and give me the support that I needed, when I needed it the most.
I was raised to be an independent person. If you were to ask my mother or my father, it is one of my more notable qualities. And while I used to think it was one of my more admirable strengths, but I have begun to see it as one of my greatest weaknesses. My parents are proud of the fact that I can stand on my own two feet, that I function completely independently and don't ever seem to need people to support me.
But really, who wants somebody who doesn't seem to need them back?
As a child, I wanted a parent who was going to sing my praises. My parents were not the complimentary type - my father was constantly telling me to stop staring at myself in the mirror - "You're so conceited." Humility was one of their stressed wishes for my personality and while I do admit that it is a quality that many people should have perhaps learned early in life - it isn't one that often makes you feel good. Just like any other child, I had many interests and talents when I was growing up. But in order to motivate me, my parents were quick to point out my shortcomings. What I could do better. Where I could improve. It was just the way they were taught to encourage, and while I'm sure they meant it to drive my success, it really only drove a wedge into our relationship.
The thing is, I don't feel like I deserved a gold sticker for every grade. I don't think they needed to pat me on the head for learning how to drive, for cleaning my room, for dressing myself in the morning. But it was the little things, the things that ever parent notices about their child, and can never say enough. To tell me that I was smart, that I showed initiative, that they appreciated my drive, my passion. To tell me I was beautiful, I was worthwhile, I was creative, that they were proud. When I moved out at 18, to tell me how glad they were that I took that step, became an adult. To even say that they missed me. My parents, for all the things they are, are not communicative. And there are a lot of things that they never told me.
The child and parent relationship is one of expectations and disappointments. And in time, in this last year particularly, I taught myself to rid myself of their expectations, and I also removed mine of them. I stopped mourning the parental relationships that I never had - a friendship, an unfailing love, an unquestioning faith. I have many disappointments, as I'm sure they do as well. But not in myself anymore. If they've taught me anything, it's that sometimes, you need someone. Sometimes you need love.
But sometimes, you don't. When you really need it, you, on your own - are enough.
Saturday, March 31, 2012
Dear 16-year-old Me:
I sometimes spend a lot of time thinking about you. All the potential you have, all the experiences you are so quick to avoid or throw away. I know this letter is a little late, but maybe it'll help both of us.
Don't define yourself by a boy. I know he's cute. I know it's new and exciting. But remember - you come first. And if you find out he's cheating on you - dump his sorry ass.
Eyebrows are important for the face. Don't annihilate them.
Your body is indestructible!! Start running now - it will make my life a lot easier.
You're more beautiful than you think. Enjoy it now because later on you might kick yourself for not figuring it out. Life is too short to pick yourself apart.
Start driving now. It's a lot cooler than taking the bus.
Stop buying shit you don't need. In 5 years, none of it will matter.
Fighting with mom and dad doesn't get you anywhere. Trust me, you can't win and it's just not worth it.
Being emotionally damaged isn't as cool as you'd think it'd be.
Take more photos. Stop throwing out your journals.
Love your sister more - she's the only one you have.
Highschool does not define your life. Trust me on this one. I graduated eight years ago and now it's just a blip on the radar.
Keep playing volleyball.
Life isn't easy or fair, but some pretty awesome things happen if you let them.
Maybe rethink your current route of taking up Journalism in post-secondary. A B.Sci would be pretty cool.
Don't avoid things just because they seem like hard work. In most cases - they are, but you're smarter than you think.
That rollerblading accident in grade 10? Maybe reconsider that surgery the doctor recommended.
You won't look good with blonde hair. Trust me.
With Love,
25-year-old Me.
Don't define yourself by a boy. I know he's cute. I know it's new and exciting. But remember - you come first. And if you find out he's cheating on you - dump his sorry ass.
Eyebrows are important for the face. Don't annihilate them.
Your body is indestructible!! Start running now - it will make my life a lot easier.
You're more beautiful than you think. Enjoy it now because later on you might kick yourself for not figuring it out. Life is too short to pick yourself apart.
Start driving now. It's a lot cooler than taking the bus.
Stop buying shit you don't need. In 5 years, none of it will matter.
Fighting with mom and dad doesn't get you anywhere. Trust me, you can't win and it's just not worth it.
Being emotionally damaged isn't as cool as you'd think it'd be.
Take more photos. Stop throwing out your journals.
Love your sister more - she's the only one you have.
Highschool does not define your life. Trust me on this one. I graduated eight years ago and now it's just a blip on the radar.
Keep playing volleyball.
Life isn't easy or fair, but some pretty awesome things happen if you let them.
Maybe rethink your current route of taking up Journalism in post-secondary. A B.Sci would be pretty cool.
Don't avoid things just because they seem like hard work. In most cases - they are, but you're smarter than you think.
That rollerblading accident in grade 10? Maybe reconsider that surgery the doctor recommended.
You won't look good with blonde hair. Trust me.
With Love,
25-year-old Me.
Thursday, March 29, 2012
What I Do (and Do Not) Know
I do not know:
Why it is so easy for me to fall in and out of love with people. What other people think about me. What a "healthy, "normal" family is like (does anybody?). I don't know if I ever want to be married. I don't know if I ever want to have children. I don't know what my future is going to look like. What I really want to be when I grow up. What my dreams mean. Where I will be living in 5 or 10 years. What I truly look like from another person's perspective. Astrophysics. Religion. Politics. What "genre" of music is my favorite. What my favorite novel/movie/food is - I have too many to choose. I don't know if I believe in soul mates. I don't know if finding my birth parents will be worthwhile. I don't know why I manage/avoid my emotions the way I do. Why other people treat others like garbage. Why people tend to come and go. Why I prefer to sleep in the day and be productive at night. Why I am the way I am.
I do know:
I am lucky to have the life that I do. The things I am good at - writing, making people smile, never giving up. Why the memories I keep are important. That being sad over the past isn't worth it. That life always goes on. What infidelity feels like on both sides. What love feels like. The burn and collapse of a muscle after a sprint. The ache of repairing bones. Endorphins. The smile of a kid that loves you. The ache of repairing a broken heart. The pain of letting go of someone. What it feels like to be proud. What it feels like to be humbled. That everyone looks better when they smile. That who I am is more important than what I look like. How quickly you can change someone's day. That the worst people need the most acceptance sometimes. That my behavior is the only one that should truly matter to me. Polarbears. Cooking. Food. Success. Failure. Contentment. Sadness. Happiness. Belonging. Why I want to be the way I will be.
Why it is so easy for me to fall in and out of love with people. What other people think about me. What a "healthy, "normal" family is like (does anybody?). I don't know if I ever want to be married. I don't know if I ever want to have children. I don't know what my future is going to look like. What I really want to be when I grow up. What my dreams mean. Where I will be living in 5 or 10 years. What I truly look like from another person's perspective. Astrophysics. Religion. Politics. What "genre" of music is my favorite. What my favorite novel/movie/food is - I have too many to choose. I don't know if I believe in soul mates. I don't know if finding my birth parents will be worthwhile. I don't know why I manage/avoid my emotions the way I do. Why other people treat others like garbage. Why people tend to come and go. Why I prefer to sleep in the day and be productive at night. Why I am the way I am.
I do know:
I am lucky to have the life that I do. The things I am good at - writing, making people smile, never giving up. Why the memories I keep are important. That being sad over the past isn't worth it. That life always goes on. What infidelity feels like on both sides. What love feels like. The burn and collapse of a muscle after a sprint. The ache of repairing bones. Endorphins. The smile of a kid that loves you. The ache of repairing a broken heart. The pain of letting go of someone. What it feels like to be proud. What it feels like to be humbled. That everyone looks better when they smile. That who I am is more important than what I look like. How quickly you can change someone's day. That the worst people need the most acceptance sometimes. That my behavior is the only one that should truly matter to me. Polarbears. Cooking. Food. Success. Failure. Contentment. Sadness. Happiness. Belonging. Why I want to be the way I will be.
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