Wednesday, December 05, 2007
Regarding my unmet infantile need-as with most of us, much reflection and pain has uncovered a need to be nurtured and a need for security. In my unconscious search for these primeval needs, I chose women who I thought would take care of me. Obviously I didn't make good choices in this area. Both my son and I still live with the repercussions.
It makes sense how this came about. I was raised by a nurturing grandmother as an infant in the Philippines. My father was in America and my mother taught school just after I was born. Under my grandmother's care I felt safe. I called her "Ina"- translated, it means mother in Ilocano a dialect spoken in the Northern Philippines. We left the Islands when I was 3 and I told my Grandmother I would come back. I kept my promise fifteen years later. In between that time, I felt an anxious insecurity living in a brand new culture and with my father who did not treat me well because I competed with him for my mother's affection and of course my mother who controlled my soul with her fear of life. Upon my return to the Philippines and in the presence of my Grandmother-I felt an overwhelming feeling of safety. I stood up to my father and my mother during this time. I felt I could be myself. The anxiety returned with our arrival to the States.
It has been a journey to see both my father and mother as wounded human beings and not as the monsters I've painted them as. I don't discount my parents affect on me as I put on my psychological armor when I see my family. My sense now is that my mother was the better parent of the two. She did the bulk of raising me versus my father who I fought with constantly or was often away at sea. I want to declare this statement as my mother has taken the brunt of my anger-an anger I became aware of when I realized she cannot nurture me, give me security or keep me safe. Overall, I think I can grow to like this path of uncertainty and insecurity. It has enriched my friendships and my relationship with my Son both of which I cherish deeply. In this way I think I'm living a good life.
It makes sense how this came about. I was raised by a nurturing grandmother as an infant in the Philippines. My father was in America and my mother taught school just after I was born. Under my grandmother's care I felt safe. I called her "Ina"- translated, it means mother in Ilocano a dialect spoken in the Northern Philippines. We left the Islands when I was 3 and I told my Grandmother I would come back. I kept my promise fifteen years later. In between that time, I felt an anxious insecurity living in a brand new culture and with my father who did not treat me well because I competed with him for my mother's affection and of course my mother who controlled my soul with her fear of life. Upon my return to the Philippines and in the presence of my Grandmother-I felt an overwhelming feeling of safety. I stood up to my father and my mother during this time. I felt I could be myself. The anxiety returned with our arrival to the States.
It has been a journey to see both my father and mother as wounded human beings and not as the monsters I've painted them as. I don't discount my parents affect on me as I put on my psychological armor when I see my family. My sense now is that my mother was the better parent of the two. She did the bulk of raising me versus my father who I fought with constantly or was often away at sea. I want to declare this statement as my mother has taken the brunt of my anger-an anger I became aware of when I realized she cannot nurture me, give me security or keep me safe. Overall, I think I can grow to like this path of uncertainty and insecurity. It has enriched my friendships and my relationship with my Son both of which I cherish deeply. In this way I think I'm living a good life.
