Wielding the Warrior

512px-Anger_SymbolLast week I was caught in a political crossfire, of sorts.  You know… the kind that happens at all of our places of employment.

One of the hairs of the crossfire was focused on my son.  In the end I didn’t win the argument and my little guy lost out, big time.

Now, there is nothing that will draw out the warrior in a woman than when you attack her young, her husband, or her best friends!

Everything in me was angry!  Angry at how I had been treated in all circumstances.   It took me an entire weekend to sift through the anger to understand the who, the why and the what.

I’ve learned that my anger is a signal.  A signal that a boundary had been crossed.  And I’ve also learned that the abuse doesn’t change the accuracy of knowing when I’ve been mistreated, but it does skew how big and deep the feeling goes.  So it often takes me a while to discern what the war is really about, and who is responsible for what.

The first thing I recognized was that I had emotionally triggered to some previous abusive confrontations.

The other person laid on the guilt trip.  And I don’t do well with other people’s guilt trips.  It is a mark of coercion, manipulation, and psychological game playing that does nothing for me except throw up a wall of all out resistance.

A guilt trip is the effort to move responsibility off of one person and onto another (a major characteristic of a perpetrator).  This is where the processing gets tricky.  Because this person operated in a typical behavior of a perpetrator DOES NOT make her a perpetrator.  But it does explain why I felt like it was abuse.  So for this portion, I had to talk myself down out of the panic.  Her difference of opinion does not mean she is abusing me.  However, I am allowing myself to put up a caution sign in regards to my relationship with her.  It’s a watch and see kinda thing.  If she continues in this behavior than I would be advised to move out of that relationship and mark it “un-healthy.”

The second part I had to wrestle with was the concept of being a good mom to my son.

I didn’t win justice for him, and I felt guilty.  Guilty that I didn’t do enough, that I didn’t fight the right way, that I didn’t defend him enough.  I felt like I was a bad mom.  This is the battlefield of a mom’s mind.  The lie vs. the truth.  Gratefully I have good friends that could immediately declare what it was – a lie!  Suffering in our child’s life is not a mark of mothering failure, it is a mark of living.

I did not abandon my son to his own emotions, or tell him to stonewall through it.  I let him weep, I cried with him, and most importantly I let him know that my anger was not directed to him but at the injustice of how the circumstance was handled.  And then I bought him a Mountain Dew Slurpee!

This past week I had to learn to Wield my Warrior Will to the correct battles.  When we are healing from abuse, it takes a little time to understand where the battle line has been drawn.

What about you?  Been in any battles lately?

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