Institute of Step-Family Dynamics

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  • The Ghosts of Christmases Past

    The Ghosts of Christmases Past

    We laid a few ghosts from Christmases past to rest this year. Christmas #9 for our blended family was a resounding success. It was not always that way. A time of joy and celebration for my children and I became a nightmarish stress that we all began to dread. It was a big wake up call for me. My kids quite rightly pointed out that Christmas was the one thing their father and I had got right. They loved it. It was the highlight of the year, and something they dragged friends along to so that they too could experience the Christmas joy.

    I started our blended family journey filled with dreams and optimism about a wonderful big family who all got on as well as the children did. That was my first mistake. It wasn’t that they didn’t get along, just that there was a very large gap in the family cultures. The way we celebrated Christmas was very different, and me trying to make something that fitted with everyone’s wishes left me a stressed, disappointed mess, and everyone else feeling like they had been cheated of the Christmas they wanted and expected.

    It was my mother who made the brave call and set a boundary. She told me she wasn’t going to come to Christmas with my darling’s family any more. She explained it wasn’t about them, or not liking them. It was about her and my step-father being unwilling to embrace creating a new set of family traditions and cultures. They liked the ones we had just fine and were simply not on board with having to feel uncomfortable about someone else’s.

    My family are very focused on Christmas being about the food and hanging out. Presents are a very small part of the whole thing. My darling’s family was all about the gifts, and the food, but the food was very different to the food my family prepared. My parents found the amount of gifts exchanged too much. My in-laws hated my cooking, finding it too rich and fancy, to the point of them bringing their own Christmas lunch one year.

    I was stuck in the middle trying to find a way to make everyone happy, and failing.

    So the boundary set by my mother was a start to a new way of doing family and Christmas. It was awkward, my in-laws were hurt. It didn’t matter how much I tried to explain it wasn’t personal, it was about safeguarding their family traditions, it still felt like a rejection. I get it. It’s not nice to be excluded. The older kids then became more vocal about wanting to retain their traditions from their childhood and it became apparent that my dream of a big happy blended extended family was not the dream of everyone else.

    We tried several different incarnations of Christmas, none of them really felt right, until this year.

    This year the adult children came down on Christmas Eve eve. Santa came on Christmas Eve morning, so we had a relaxed time to enjoy opening presents. We had Christmas dinner with my parents and all of the 7 children on Christmas Eve. It was a nice relaxed day. We then had Christmas breakfast on Christmas Day with my parents and the 7 children. This was slightly less relaxed, with me losing my shit momentarily about showers, as we tried to get ready for a 9am start. This will need a little fine tuning for next time.

    After breakfast, we headed off to the in-laws and had a lovely afternoon and evening with them. My in-laws prepared a lovely meal, in the way they like to do Christmas. Having 7 people in their home was manageable and worked well. Today, Boxing Day, as I reflect on the previous couple of days, I feel as if we all had a good time and finally we have the recipe right.

    Creating new traditions is not an easy thing. Expecting people to give up their roles and traditions to accommodate yours doesn’t always work either. I love doing the hosting, but so do my in-laws. This way, we both get to host and shape a Christmas that fits our traditions and family cultures. My kids get their family traditions and also then get to go and spend the rest of the day with their paternal grandparents on what is traditionally their Christmas day with me. They get to experience their whole family, this is something many kids lose over the holidays.

    It took my mother stepping up and saying this is not working. It took my kids being miserable and threatening to boycott Christmas. It took me being sick of being disappointed and exhausted from the juggling of competing wants and needs, and failing. From the ashes of Christmases past, we have found a way to celebrate with our step-family dynamics. We have found a way to meet the competing wants and needs, without anyone feeling like they have been disregarded or missed.

    We only have the children every second year, we have chosen to do year about. It means I get a year off every second year and we do a mid-Winter Christmas instead. I used to try and do a special Kids Christmas before the actual one on the years the children are with their other parents. It become another obligation and stress for people to try and fit in around an already busy time of year. Doing something mid-Winter means it’s easier to find a time that works.

    We do a Secret Santa gift exchange, and Santa comes for all 7 of the children. It cuts down the costs for everyone, but I’m especially mindful of the costs for people as my parents approach retirement and the adult children are responsible for purchasing their own gifts. We each purchase one gift and sit round while each person unwraps. It’s fun, no-one feels like they are missing out and the joy each person gets from one single gift seems to be more than they get from a mound of presents.

    I encourage you to reflect on your celebration this year. Look at what worked and what didn’t. Decided whether some brave calls need to be made, and start designing a Christmas that will bring joy and peace for next year. Christmas is not about a single day in the calendar year, it’s about tradition and rituals that create memories of what family is. Let’s make them good ones.

  • Is it time to leave?

    Is it time to leave?

    The holiday season can take a huge toll on relationships. It brings out emotions we have buried, and the end of the year is a time of natural reflection about what we want the new year to bring. This can lead to people questioning whether staying in their current relationship is what they want and need. It felt timely to write about the ending of relationships and the decision-making process around whether to stay or go.

    One of the things I tell my clients is that whatever happens with their relationship, I know they will be ok. I will hold the hope for them, while they figure it out. I honestly believe that the end of a relationship can be a positive thing. We have this idea that when a relationship ends, it is some kind of failure. We should have been able to make it work, we didn’t try hard enough, change enough, bend enough etc.

    How about the idea that sometimes we just grow in different directions and sometimes get to a point where we are no longer compatible? I don’t think it’s a question of outgrowing or putting a value judgement on things. I don’t think that’s helpful. I think it’s more accurate to say, we no longer want and need the same things.

    Sometimes this disconnect can be because the relationship was filling an unhealthy need, and as we deal with our challenges, we no longer want or need to fill that unhealthy need. It can be around entitlement. If we came in to the relationship expecting very little in terms of getting our needs met, and then do some work and figure out we are actually entitled to get those needs met, it can cause a disconnect. The person we are with may not be able to meet out newly discovered and defined needs, or they may not be aware our needs and wants have changed.

    It’s very easy at that time to start finger pointing and blaming. You should step up, you should do this or that or the next thing. What we need to remember is that we are the ones who have changed the rules. Our wants and needs have changed, often without consulting or considering our partner. We have contributed to the disconnect. Does this mean it’s our fault? Should we have not grown? Not discovered we want more out of life than we previously imagined we were entitled to?

    Not at all. We just need to be aware that this is not the fault of our partner. It’s not them failing us, it’s a shift in the dynamics of the relationship that is no longer sustainable.

    How do we elegantly manage the transition? How much should we try to bridge the gap? At what point do we accept the gap is too big and we need to leave the relationship?

    There is no singular answer to that, and I would strongly recommend getting some professional help to work through these questions. It’s some of the most rewarding work I do with clients. Sometimes the outcomes surprise us, the couple work on their own issues and find ways to reconnect. They come out the other side stronger as individuals and more united as a couple. Sometimes we work on an exit strategy, find ways to elegantly and kindly end the relationship.

    The question of ‘Is it time to leave?’ is a hard one. It’s not something I recommend deciding without talking it through with a professional. It’s not something to decide after a fight or betrayal. It’s a decision that needs to be carefully weighed, a strategy put in place to make a graceful exit.

    To make a time to talk through your relationship queries, you can email me on [email protected] or get in touch with a local therapist you feel comfortable with.

  • When Being Kind Ends Up Being Unkind

    When Being Kind Ends Up Being Unkind

    My darling and I are generally very easy-going people. Accommodating, understanding that sometimes life gets in the way and people make mistakes. Until we’re not. There is very little space between us being accommodating and then deciding the person we are dealing with is just taking the mickey.

    It’s been an on-going issue for years. When I look over my interactions with people, so often my response to them not following through or doing what they said they would is ‘No worries’. I mean it, I am not worried, I get life happens and things get challenging at times.

    I have also begun to realise this sets up a series of expectations around what I will accept. If I am not bothered by being let down once, I am then often relegated to the bottom of people’s priority list. When there are competing demands, my wants or needs will be pushed down the list for someone who is less kind, more vocal, and who makes disappointing them more unpleasant.

    My ‘no worries’ has a limited life span. This is something I fail to point out to people, when I generously throw around absolution for letting me down or not showing up. My ‘no worries’ sends a false message of accommodation that leads people to feel secure in my never-ending approbation and understanding.

    People are often shocked or hurt when I decide I have had enough and end the interaction, or stop being accommodating. They are surprised when I suddenly ‘am worried’ and hold them to account. They can often end up blaming me for this turn of events, and feel I am being unreasonable. Expecting them to follow through on what they have promised becomes something I have no right to expect, because I have taught them I will accept less than that.

    So, whose fault is that? Theirs for being flaky? Or mine for allowing them to believe I was going to accept flakiness forever?

    I have to believe it is mine. I set the tone, I lowered their expectations of what I would tolerate, my kindness was misinterpreted.

    Or does it go deeper than that? Are there some issues around entitlement that I need to unpack? Do I feel I deserve less than others?

    I think for a long time this was the case. I tolerated less, because I felt deserving of less. My sense of entitlement has shifted, but my go to responses to people who let me down have not. I am telling people it is ok to not perform, when actually I have an expectation they will, and it damages my regard of them when they don’t.

    My seeming kindness is actually unkind, to myself and to those around me. I short-change myself and set others up to damage their relationships with me, sometimes to the point of no return. I am unwittingly setting people up to fail. When I tell a client it’s fine they forgot to pay me, or tell the landlord it’s ok they haven’t done the repairs they said they would, I am telling people they can walk all over me. I am telling them, I don’t value me or my time, the implicit message in that is they shouldn’t value me or my time either.

    This can happen in our couple relationships. We let things go and let things go and then suddenly explode over a seemingly trivial matter. Keeping ourselves in balance sometimes means speaking up before we lose our shit! Being able to set a boundary when we are calm and centred is far more effective than losing it. The repair job takes up precious energy we could be spending on enjoying each other.

    What messages are you sending with your kindness and generosity?

    Is your kindness really kind? Or is it a fear of setting a much needed boundary?

  • When Their Story Doesn’t Match Ours

    When Their Story Doesn’t Match Ours

    There is a quote by Anne Lamott “You own everything that happened to you. Tell your stories. If people wanted you to write warmly about them, they should have behaved better.”

    It’s never quite sat well with me. There has always been a sense of disquiet, because I know people can behave well and still have bad stories told about them. I know you can think you are behaving well, and someone still experiences your behaviour badly. It’s not as simple as behave well, not everyone’s stories are factually accurate.

    I have a very postmodern idea of truth, there is not one truth, there are many versions of the truth. We each interpret events, emotions, and interactions differently. Our truth of the situation can be very different to the truth experienced by someone else participating in the situation.

    What do we do when one person’s truth is so incredibly opposite to ours we think they are impaired  or delusional to see their actions as ok? What do we do when this person is so convicted of their truth, so skilled at manipulation, and so well versed in playing the victim, their truth negatively impacts our lives and the lives of our loved ones? How do we reconcile holding space for their truth, when it seeks to destroy our happiness?

    I think it’s easy to dismiss that truth as lies, delusions, and spite. When we do that, we dehumanise the person, we create a category for them, we designate them as a liar, a fraud. We dismiss their pain and struggles. We also cease to take responsibility for our part in the drama, because we have decided the other person is, quite frankly, full of shit.

    Does that serve us though? Or do we create a caricature of the person. No one is all bad, conversely, no one is all good; no matter how hard we try to behave that way. Long standing conflict is fuelled by these caricatures. We lose our compassion, we abdicate responsibility. We dismiss any kind gesture as manipulation. None of that serves us.

    I have a person in my life who is a huge source of conflict, drama, and unnecessary stress. She has done some terrible things; making numerous calls to get us evicted, making false complaints that resulted in an 18 month investigation and cost us tens of thousands of dollars. There is much, much more, but it serves no purpose to publish a laundry list of wrongdoing.

    It has been very easy to dismiss her story. We recently received a paperwork filled with ‘her story’ which bears very little resemblance to our truth. The people she tells her story to are almost always swayed into believing her story is ‘the truth’. I think a big reason for this is that she is so convinced it is THE truth. There is no room in her story for any wrong doing on her part.

    As I write this, I have to pause and reflect. Is there anyroom in MY story for any wrong doing on my part? Sure, I accept there are times I have overstepped, or said things that were hurtful or confronting. I don’t see those things are particularly bad behaviour, because I view them through the lens of what I perceive as her far worse behaviour.

    What if I stopped for a moment and stepped outside my story. What if I suspended my truth. What if I wondered about how my actions were perceived through her lens of my perceived awful behaviour?

    What if all of the positive, kind gestures I felt I had made were treated with the same level of suspicion and scepticism I treat hers? I think I can be fairly assured that they are. We are all on this merry go round, telling ourselves our stories, filtering events in a way to fit our truths. It doesn’t serve any of us.

    I’m not sure how to navigate our truths and stories more gracefully and graciously. I have learned from bitter experience that believing there has been a thawing in relationships or a positive change is all too quickly dissolved by founding out about things said behind my back, actions taken that show bad faith. I have been on this roller coaster far too many times to willingly re-embark.

    How do we hold a boundary, keeping ourselves safe, while accepting the terrible stories others tell about us are not only their truth, but perhaps contain kernels of a fact based truth. It would be easy to fallback on the Anne Lamott quote and say the other should have behaved better. I think in some ways that is a cop out. It’s an abdication of responsibility, it’s an invitation to victimhood.

    How do you hold your truth, while accepting the truth of another that is not flattering or kind may hold some factual truths?

  • When You’re All Out of Love

    When You’re All Out of Love

    This was a rough week in relationship world. I had a falling out with my husband. Notice the wording there – I had a falling out with my husband. As far as he was concerned, life was and should be fine. Something quite innocently thoughtless on his behalf ripped open a deep wound in me. It was a wound I thought I had healed reasonably well, but with the right triggers it became a gaping, festering wound in the space of a few hours. I wasn’t expecting to be wounded so easily,or for the pain to strike so deeply.

    My response was to retreat into being a bitch. I was grumpy, sullen, and obnoxious. My husband became my ‘bitch eating crackers’. It was amazing how the little things I usually gloss over as unimportant became huge faults and wrongdoings. Him leaving his wet towel on the bed resulted in me telling him to go and put it in the wash, the way he did the most simple things became a source of annoyance and disappointment. I was all out of love. The wound had sucked it out and its place was filling with disdain and disappointment.

    It shocked me how quickly I could go from being so in love with this man, to being so out of love. It reminded me of conversations I have with girlfriends when they have lost the loving feeling and their marriages have become chores and a source of stress. My hunny and I usually manage to avoid this cesspit of disappointment. Now I found that even with all of the work we have done, the safeguards we have in place; opening up a source of pain can quickly lead down paths that make you question your entire marriage and your regard for your formerly loved one.

    After 3 days of hating myself and my husband, I finally came clean with what the problem was. I asked him to listen to me and not to respond right away. I was too raw to deal with an argument or justifications and the topic was too painful for us to have a rational conversation immediately. He was able to hear me and just listen. He was unhappy, I could tell he felt parts of what I was saying were unfair, and possibly they were, but they were the festering sores I carry in the wound.

    It took courage to expose my deep fears, I worried about him rejecting what I had to say outright, or denying it, or trying to blame it on me. These were all things I had experienced in previous relationships, the gaslighting of making their failings mine. His response is why I love him and rarely am ‘all out of love’. As the day progressed, there was a thawing, when he came and hugged me and held me tight, I felt the love slowly seeping back.

    My innate response to these kinds of bumps in the road is to catastrophise, to want to run away, to shut off my feelings and leave. It’s easier to walk away than to deal with the painful feelings. I am a master at cutting people out of my life and walking away. It is my first response and one I battle each time my husband and I disconnect.

    We have spent the last couple of days being gentler and kinder to each other. We still have a way to go before we can address the wound and add another layer of salve to a wound that will probably be with me for life. This morning my husband responded in a negative way to a request for help. It brought up all the feelings of fear and rejection I had been experiencing throughout the week. One moment of him expressing annoyance at asking him for help with something he felt was trivial hurt me to the point of tears. It was then I realised that after having been ‘all out of love’ the reservoir of good will, security, and safety I felt in our relationship was low. Usually I would know this was just his way of dealing with what he felt was a demand when he was feeling stressed, not an indication he didn’t want to be married or no longer loved me. Being ‘out of love’ doesn’t just mean being out of love with our partner, it also means being unable to feel love from them.

    How many of you are ‘all out of love’ at the moment? How many are running on the fumes of goodwill and love?

  • When Will It Stop Hurting

    When Will It Stop Hurting

    Going through a separation and divorce can be one of the most painful experiences of our adult life. It can feel as if the world will never be ok again. The idea of recovery and even a life beyond divorce with a new relationship and joy can be almost inconceivable. People tell us it will end, life will get better, there is hope…

    Suddenly one day, there it is. A day where you didn’t cry. A day that wasn’t consumed by self-doubt, blame, shame, and grief. Those days become more frequent, until one day you realise you are laughing and looking at potential new partners with a gleam in your eye.

    Yass! I am over my divorce. Done with all of that, onwards and upwards.

    Until your ex gets engaged, or has a baby, or buys a house, or any of those other things that previously had been your domain. Those feelings of grief and inadequacy, betrayal etc come rushing back in. Except…we don’t feel as entitled to those feelings now. We are OVER the divorce. We are happy now. We have a life beyond the ex.

    ‘When will it stop hurting’ we rage!

    The answer to that is ‘sometimes’. It will stop hurting sometimes. There are always going to be moments of hurt. Those moments will become further apart. They won’t be triggered by the mundane of everyday like they used to be. They will be triggered by those big life events we thought we would be sharing with our ex for the rest of our life.

    Feeling that sense of hurt, loss, and pain is not silly, weak, stupid, or any of those other things we tell ourselves in the midst of our pain. Feeling those things is a part of dealing with a massive loss.

    When a loved one dies, we know there will be moments when we miss them more than others. We accept there will always be a hole where that loved one used to be. A divorce is the same. It’s a loss, a death of a dream. There will always be a hole where the marriage used to be.

    We can remarry, be ecstatically happy, and yet still have those moments of pain.

    When they inevitably hit, take a moment. Acknowledge the loss. Shed the tears. Honour the feelings. It will pass, the joy will return. Life will go on.

    And it will stop hurting, for most of the time.

  • Why I am Not Everyone’s Cup of Tea and Why You Don’t Need to be Either

    Why I am Not Everyone’s Cup of Tea and Why You Don’t Need to be Either

    I have been writing off and on for a number of different websites for a few years now. As writers we need to find our voice; develop a persona that represents us on-line and in our work. For years I tried for the calm, reasonable, balanced person; someone who was wise and measured. It was ok, because sometimes I am like that, it represented a part of me. The part it didn’t represent was the part I felt was maybe a little more ‘out-there’. This part swears, pushes the boundaries, is unconventional, and was a part I feared was maybe too confrontational to be socially acceptable. I worried about alienating readers, I worried I would be ‘too much’ for some people. The result was a watered-down version of me. My humour disappeared and so too did my integrity. I was playing small to try and appeal to the widest range of people possible.

    I took a break from writing for the last couple of years, I had a heavy study load and no creativity left for writing in this genre. My writing was focused on academic subjects and framed by the strict rules governing academic writing, I wrote my first piece after this break late last night, after a day of decisions around the name of this website and my therapy practice. I had looked at logo designs, trying to find something. All through this process I was walking the tightrope of trying to find something that would speak to others, appeal to them in a way that also explained who I was and what I do.

    It became apparent that I could not find a name that encompassed everything I wish to achieve in my work. In fact, since I originally wrote this piece, I’ve revisited the name of the site another few times. I’ve settled with step-family dynamics because at the moment it makes sense as a vehicle to let people know where my expertise lies. Even within this field, I won’t speak in a way that resonates with everyone. I’m blunt, despite my efforts to be soft and gentle. Part of it is cultural, us New Zealanders are pretty straight forward. Part of it is personality, I’m very honest.

    I will not be playing small to make sure I don’t offend sensibilities or ruffle feathers. I will be irreverent, I will on occasion use cuss words. I will make jokes about things people may feel we should not joke about. I will be me, my real self. I’m not going to try and be everyone’s cup of tea because even the most tasty tea will not be something everyone likes. I will make my best tea and enjoy sharing it with those who like that kind of thing. I need to walk my walk, so that I can support you to walk yours.

    I’m not everyone’s cup of tea and I will work with you so you don’t need to try and be everyone’s cup of tea either.