Group Therapy is a relationship advice column that asks readers to contribute their wisdom. Each week, we offer a problem for you to weigh in on, then publish the most lively responses, with a final word on the matter delivered by our columnist, Lynn Coady.
A reader writes: I'm moving to the Caribbean with my husband and five-year-old son for the next two winters (September through May). I am 42 and I still have not been able to tell my mother. I know she will find a million reasons why it's a bad idea. I know that every attempt to persuade her otherwise will be met with: "I know, but I just worry." And I know that she will spin herself into a debilitating depression that will affect not only me, but my sister and father. Even if I tell her I'll be there on the next flight if she needs me, it won't put my mother at ease. How do I deal with such a toxic guilt tripper?
Give her tools to cope
It sounds like there are two problems here: a) mom has some separation issues and b) you feel that you need her permission to act on your own thoughtful but perhaps controversial decisions. Mom needs to hear that you have made a careful decision and that you are firm on it. You do not need to accept guilt. Focus on her separation issues and the ways that you can support her (e.g., setting up e-mail, Skype, buying her phone cards, setting up a trip for her to visit).
- Janice Mackenzie, Indian River, Ont.
Follow through
You've essentially answered your own question, though the hard part is following through. Your mother has some emotional imbalances, and you've rightly identified that there is no reason she should make you feel guilty. Yet filial bonds have a way of overruling logic, so you have pre-empted her and guilt-tripped yourself by inventing the idea that if you leave, you will cause increased grief for your sister and father. I'm sure they have long ago developed their own coping strategies. Tell your mother calmly what your plans are and refuse to get into a discussion. That's the easy part. Now for the hard part: Enjoy your warm winters and ignore her phone calls.
- Jeff Meyes, San Francisco
Bite the bullet
You are 42, so presumably your mother is at least 60. That makes you both adults who are
responsible for themselves. If she will truly experience a debilitating depression over this, then her mental state should be addressed ASAP. Speak to your father and sister first, so that everyone is on board with a plan that includes a couple of Caribbean visits. Bite the bullet and tell your mother; anticipate frostiness and wait for her to sort of come around. Welcome your family when they visit, and enjoy every minute with your husband and son. These will be memories you will all treasure.
- Kathy Christenson, Toronto
The final word
If I didn't get paid by the word my advice today would consist of only three: You are 42.
Now, all that remains is to pad my response like a Grade 12 essay on Poor Parenting Choices in King Lear.
King Lear is the story of a young woman who refuses to let a bullying parent walk all over her. The parent in question promptly goes crazy and dies - something all guilt-ridden children secretly fear will happen should they dare stand up to a parent. Why? Probably because, like Lear, the guilt-tripping parent often responds to such insubordination with histrionic avowals that he or she will promptly go crazy and die.
So it's not as if your fear of revealing your plans to your mother is irrational. Heck, manipulative parents have been flogging Lear's thankless child/serpent's tooth line since - well, since Shakespeare. Obviously, you've experienced this toxic behaviour in your mother before and know what she is capable of.
But once again: You are 42.
You can't indulge this foolishness. To indulge it is to participate in it, to agree with it. Lear went around the table demanding each of his daughters kiss his butt and Cordelia responded by telling him, in so many words, to kiss hers. You must, in so many (loving, patient) words, tell your mother the same thing. Or as Kathy puts it: Bite the bullet.
Jeff says to ignore your mother's phone calls during the Caribbean winter months while Janice stops just short of recommending video-conferencing. That's up to you and your own level of tolerance. The important thing is to let your mother know you won't be drawn into emotional head games. Tell her it's fine and perfectly motherly of her to worry - but you're going to the Caribbean! To spiral into depression and make her entire family miserable over your temporary absence is beyond absurd.
Like Lear's youngest daughter, you have to stand against the absurdity. But the hardest part of taking a stand is the knowledge that your brave action isn't necessarily going to change anything - look what it did for Cordelia. Your mother will still, to put a final literary flourish on my essay, go ranting into the storm when she doesn't get her way. Let her. You won't be able to enjoy full-fledged adulthood until you can.
Lynn Coady is the award-winning author of the novels Strange Heaven and Mean Boy, with another one currently in the oven.
Next week's question
A reader writes: I'm divorced, late 40s, deeply in love with a divorced, early 50s man who brings much happiness and laughter to my life. But he was cheated on in the past, and whenever we have an argument it ends up with him following me around ranting and yelling in my face. One evening, after he had too many drinks, he cursed loudly at me when I accidentally stepped on his toe. I did what I always do when the mood changes between us - I become distant and then he starts demanding that I show some love. The night is shot, yet the next day he wants me to be my usual loving self. But I need time to shake off the hurt. That's when he starts yelling. He wants affection but I just want to run, which makes him angrier. How can I defuse his bullying?
Do you have an answer to this question or your own dilemma? Weigh in at grouptherapy@globeandmail.com and include your full name and hometown. (We will not print your name if we publish your personal dilemma.)