Pat Taub
One of the most valuable lessons aging has bestowed on me is the importance of shedding anger. The less anger I hold, the more inner peace I possess.
I’ve learned to release a lot of my anger by developing new narratives to replace those that made my blood boil.
My new story path originated through writing about my mother. When I submitted the first draft of my mother-daughter memoir to my editor, she commented, “OK, you got your anger out. Now try to be more objective.” I was clueless as to how to do this, but it happened almost magically.
As I immersed myself in the facts of my mother’s life, my anger softened, replaced with a new appreciation for the circumstances that made her prone to depression, and to realize that she didn’t set out to make me insecure when she shut down. My mother was coping as best she could given her childhood trauma. In fact, it was remarkable that she functioned as well as she did considering all she went through. What a difference it made when I put myself in my mother’s shoes!
My mother and I six months before she died, July 2000.
A new mother story encouraged me to use this same perspective to craft healing stories about other conflictual relationships in my life.
It took me awhile to appreciate that my ex-husband’s drinking was his attempt to cope with his anxieties about his job and life in general rather than being directed at me.
When we divorced, I felt vindicated by telling everyone that our marriage ended because of my ex’s alcoholism. This story of bad husband/good wife left me off the hook. It also kept my anger intact. As I honestly reflected on our marriage, I was forced to recognize my own part in the unraveling. I was demanding (like my mother!), wanting a perfect-looking home while insisting my ex yield to my parenting style.
There was a positive outcome to viewing Marvin in a new light. Over time he stopped drinking. As we both dropped our guards, we celebrated family holidays and even babysat the grandkids together. When Marvin died suddenly eight years ago, I was very grateful that we were in a peaceful place.
My ex, Marvin with sons, Jonathan and David and Granddaughter, Jane, summer 2006
Crafting a new story about those you’re experiencing tension with involves listening closely and non-judgmentally to the other.
I had to learn to hear my sons’ complaints without getting defensive. Much of their anger dated back to their adolescence. Growing up in a single parent household they accused me of being too preoccupied with my career and feminist activities to be present for them. When I sat with my sons’ hurt feelings, I realized that having just one steady parent generated feelings of abandonment when I was unavailable.
Jonathan and David during a family trip to Rome, 2011
A compassionate outlook doesn’t mean responding like a doormat or taking abuse from the other. A few of my troubled friendships proved irreparable. As hard as I tried to understand the other, she or he couldn’t shift out of attack mode. Frustration forced me to terminate these friendships. It was painful, but I didn’t see any other way to break the cycle of anger.
I’ve discovered that most people have good hearts and want to be liked and valued. We all deserve to be understood. In a time when hate runs rampant, the more we can listen to one another towards a practice of compassion and loving kindness, the more society will heal along with our close relationships. New narratives are a way forward.
