I do rock climbing in a sports center regularly. It is a multi-level
wall, and kids are usually around with their parents or coaches. There is this
group of three kids, all below ten years old, who come regularly with their
mother. They are siblings and have a private coach to teach them basic moves
and how to get comfortable at height. These are typical white kids: loud, naughty,
playful and excited about climbing. The youngest, Jo, is the one completely out
of control. He is smart, and cute but difficult to manage. He won’t easily listen
or follow instructions, and he finds it impossible to sit quiet. Few days ago,
he got angry, they had a fight I guess, and they ended up with all their toys
scattered around the climbing area. Her mom, called him close and told him, "by the
count of ten I want all the toys to be in their place, else there will be no
pudding after dinner!"
She didn’t raise her voice, didn’t frown, didn’t threaten
not to like him, and didn’t turn her back. None of these. Even though the boy
had made a mistake, she still did not over-react to the situation. She simply conveyed
to the boy that if he complies, he will get a prize.
When I was a kid, there were rules, like keeping quiet,
talking politely, sitting appropriately, walking slowly, keeping the noise down, sharing
all my toys with the whole world, and the like. If we dared not to comply, there
was always a punishment, without fail. It did not have to be verbal or physical,
instead my mother used her effective body language and facial expressions to
insure the message is conveyed:
You useless, unlikable, child! How I wish you were not born
at all!
Why do you make my life even more miserable than it is? Isn't
your father enough?
Why can’t you have better manners, like all other kids (the
ideal ones we never met)?
It is such a challenge to raise you, be around you and
tolerate you!
Can’t you see my burden of washing, cooking, cleaning and
sacrificing my life and in return you can’t even behave properly?
I never knew what it means to be loved for who I am, but I knew
I will get love, support, protection, shelter, and basic needs of life if only
I do what is expected of me. It would have still been manageable if there were
certain expectations to be fulfilled in return for all those needs, but it wasn't
simple. The rules were volatile! I never knew how those expectations would vary
from time to time and situation to situation. It was like walking on a mine
field. I was always on my tip-toes, and I knew that if I hit a mine, I won’t
get simple injuries, I will be blown away altogether. Whenever I crossed a
certain red line, which mostly I didn't even know it existed, the love was
uprooted from my life, and I was deprived of everything altogether.
I was lucky though, a few years ago I found a book, totally by accident, about abusive behavior towards women. In that book, I learn about the consequences of having been loved
conditionally as a child. I learned how it makes you a selfless person, and how
it makes situation management rather difficult if not impossible. I realized
that I tend to be more sensitive to body language, and to magnify their meanings,
I tend to be scared of people’s reaction if I do something they don’t like, and
I do put extra effort to get to know people’s sensitivities and stay away from
it altogether.
After that, it was a day to day fight to identify symptoms
of selflessness and to cure them. I did not stop amazing myself with how far it had
crippled me in life and how it had changed the shape of my social interactions.
I am still in the fight. I am still scared of not being loved, I am still cautious
about my manners, I am still watchful of people’s body language, and I am still
in the big dilemma of my life:
“am I worth being loved as I am”
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