Typing my personal portrait assignment for class yesterday brought tears – unexpected, unbidden, totally caught by surprise. Tears hot and fast ran down my face, typing stopped as I tried to catch my breath and figure out where they came from. Tears that came from a place so deep it brought physical pain, tears that came so suddenly, tears that before I would have stuffed away, but now I just gave in to. Tears that remembered the pain of my growing up, but without the anger or guilt that used to plague me. Remembering the pain tears, healing the pain tears.
When I started this journey, I expected that some of my own stuff would come up. What I didn’t expect was the emotional impact it would have, the toll it would take. Grad school is hard enough without stuff. Daily struggles with balancing the coursework load and my family, my volunteer work, my life have already begun to mess with my sense of order. Trying to be balanced is so important, because there has never been balance in the past. Trying to keep a good pace, yet not leave my family or myself in the dust as I obsess over my pursuits, well, it has been a challenge and a new way of doing things to say the least. So far, my husband has told me that I have kept the balance well. The struggle with the workload was more of what I expected. I knew things would come up just because delving into psychological theories would obviously bring up some of the issues I have faced. But with all of the work I have done, with all of the healing that God has brought into my life, my expectation did not meet the reality of my experience yesterday.
To break it down, the assignment is to analyze our own life according to Erikson’s stages of psychosocial development, add in Kohlberg’s theory of moral development, and throw gender, environment, and culture into the mix. I decided to break the paper down into Erikson’s stages and put the rest under each stage where applicable. The format was set up perfectly, all my references were in order and laid out under each stage, I had my water on my desk and Spirit playing on Sirius in the background.
Stage 1 – Trust vs. mistrust (infant)
You take care of a baby, it learns trust. Simple right? But what happens when the baby lacks in proper physical and emotional care and bonding? Mistrust or as Erikson calls it, maladaptation, which in the first stage leads to withdrawal. In analyzing this stage, I knew my needs were not consistently met, and may have even been totally ignored. I know I was unwanted by my mother, and I was something to be used by my father. It was here that feelings of discomfort and loss over my circumstances surfaced as I was typing.
Stage 2 – Autonomy vs. Shame and doubt (toddler)
Learning to control ones bodily functions leads to independence and success. Being told I was dirty for normal bodily functions led to shame and doubt. It is during this time that I remember the first abuse, while I was in my crib. Details aren’t necessary, but suffice it say that the remembering of those details spun my world and created a sense of loss surrounding so many areas of my life. This is where I learned it was acceptable and expected to be feminine and pretty, and nothing more. It was the only way to find acceptance. The feeling of heaviness grew when typing this part.
Stage 3 – Initiative vs. Guilt (preschool)
Learning to do things for and by oneself is the goal. My experience was inhibition and withdrawal. As I was typing about a childhood photo, I could see that photo in my minds eye – 3rd birthday, eyes downcast, posture pulled in, fearful. That is what brought the tears. At 3 years old, no happy birthday smiles for the picture; instead a fearful, scared, withdrawn little girl.
Seeing myself there, I hurt. I hurt over the loss of childhood, the loss of innocence, the loss of learning trust, autonomy, and initiative. I hurt for the maladaptive strategies I learned in order to survive. But after all the work, why was this so hard? Because I had to break it down into stages. I had to face in black and white exactly how and where things went wrong. I had to see just how long I endured, and by the grace of God, survived. And I had to type it all out APA style, with relevant references, in a nice and neat package without screaming, without pouring my pain all over the paper – somehow trying to analyze the sickness and the sin that surrounded me. That is why it hurt. That is why the tears came. That is why it hurts still.
Breathe… but, after the tears, after the pain lessened and the realization of the loss hit, after the giving into grief, I was able to go back to the paper. The rest of the paper was still hard. I still had to face how the tentacles of abuse snaked their way into so many aspects of my development. But I could also see the beginnings of faith, the tentative forays into health, the failures, and the successes. As I continued to write, all of those thoughts swirling in my brain, I prayed I would be able to piece it all together in a fashion that made sense. And I did, with God’s help, I did. I saw the healing beginning, and I was able to look back and give myself grace for the many failures. I was able to accept the pain because I could see the growth, see that I was not stuck, see that my God relentlessly pursued me and brought me health and peace. Although the theorists I am studying may not have understood Godly principles, they are there in black and white. Erikson said that if one did not pass through the stages in order, they could go back and ‘make up’ for that stage. Maslow said if basic needs weren’t met, one could go back later and get those needs met. It is of course not the same as if the needs were met in the first place, but it is enough. God, in his grace and wisdom, allows us to go back and ‘make up’.
“Neither do I condemn you, go and sin no more.” (John 8:11) The wisdom of God surrounds us, even in the secular world. We just have to open our eyes and our hearts to see it.
