my strange relationship with anger

I am coming to realize that I have a very odd relationship with anger.

On one hand, I don't mind being angry myself. I experience the emotion, get it out of my system by screaming or venting or punching a pillow (I know, tough girl, right?) or crying. I'm not afraid to get angry. Anger is an emotion I'm able to experience that helps me process through things I'm going through.

However, when someone else is angry, I've realized that their anger brings up a fear in me that is almost paralyzing. It's odd that I've only recently come to see this about myself. I always thought of myself as someone that welcomes conflict and debate. But, maybe I told myself that as a way to cope with lots of people in my life over the years that haven't controlled their anger very well.

Across several key relationships in my life, others' anger has caused me a great deal of pain, a deep sense of worthlessness and a fear of abandonment. Here's what I was conditioned to believe: If someone gets angry, it's probably my fault. If they get angry enough with me, they will probably give up on me and decide that I'm not worth staying in relationship with me. It's probably my fault anyway...I made him angry...if only I'd done "this" or not done "that"...

Anger and manipulation were never too far away from each other throughout most of my life. So, for many, many years, I've walked on eggshells in most of the relationships I've been in -- with anyone. Always afraid that I might make someone angry, and they'd write me off.

Recently this hit home in a new way...

I had been having a hard time with one of my kids. He was being disrespectful and, well, angry, fairly often and about often seemingly irrational things. He'd lash out with his words and his disrespectful attitude of blame; playing the victim and pointing fingers.

Now, I've come far enough in this journey to recognize the pattern of manipulation and verbal abuse that accompanies it, and I know that I need to set boundaries and hold him accountable with consequences for his behavior.

But, as I was disciplining him and setting the boundaries and explaining the consequences, and I could see his anger increasing, I could feel myself starting to back off...to take responsibility for his actions myself -- I was afraid that he'd get angry and decide that he just didn't love his mom anymore...

I felt stuck...trapped by my own fear of being rejected and the knowledge that I needed to teach him to be accountable and responsible. There was no way I could have both -- I'd have to risk either letting him be angry with me, or passing up the teaching moment (worst, teaching him that he could treat me in a disrespectful and manipulative way and that it was okay!).

In the end, I stuck to my convictions. I held him to the consequences and let him stomp loudly up to his room, slam the door and punch his pillow (heredity, huh?).

Honestly, I felt like crap about it though...until one of those friends (remember the ones that kick my ass regularly) reminded me that sometimes, as a parent, your kids are going to be angry with you. I know this is completely common sense for most of you, and I know this is true myself, but my default behavior doesn't reflect this as truth.

So, this is going to be a tough one for me...but I'm realizing that if I'm ever going to have real, intimate relationships that go deep, I'm going to have to bravely deal with anger and trust that the person who's angry will handle it in a healthy way...all part of this recovering coward's journey into her new story.

Run

The coward in me said I couldn't run. That it wasn't safe since I'm diabetic and I might pass out if my blood sugar dropped too low. That my left knee couldn't handle it. That I was too out-of-shape. Recently, that I was too old to start. That I just didn't have time. That I might try, and then I'd fail, so therefore, I shouldn't try.

But, the recovering coward decided to give it a try. I've been inspired and encouraged by several friends who are long-time runners, and even more influenced by some friends who have quite recently become runners.

Now, the first time out, it was good. I was excited and energized. I went almost 2 miles. I walked most of the way, but when I ran, it felt great. And when I got home and collapsed on the floor, it was with a big smile on my face.

The second time was great, and I started to get a little cocky. So, I decided to run last week on the one hot afternoon that we had. It was u.g.l.y. I only made it about 1.5 miles and nearly passed out. I was discouraged and disappointed in myself. I felt like I backtracked about a zillion steps. I wanted to give up.

Here's where I divulge a key step in the recovering coward program: you must have friends who know you're on the journey and who will kick your ass when needed. They kick your ass sometimes nicely with encouraging words and affirmation, and other times by reminding you that you are strong and tenacious and that you need to quit whining and just do the thing you are so afraid of. I have a few of these friends (they know who they are). And, they did their jobs.

So, a few days later, I took a big leap and invested some serious cash in some new running shoes (they're cute, too, don't you agree?), took a few deep breaths and hit the sidewalks again. This time, I slowed down and took my time. I put together a playlist of songs that I knew I'd want to sing along to between breaths. And...I did it. I ran 2 solid miles -- no walking.

I felt great. Accomplished. Courageous. Persistent. Strong. Like a conqueror. A Runner.

I set a few goals for myself several months ago -- one of them was to "feel my strength emotionally, spiritually, mentally and physically." I committed to run a 10K sometime in the next 2 years when I wrote that goal down -- I had never run more than a mile, and that had been in high school (which was a really long time ago!).

I'm excited to say I'm on my way.

And, I'm learning that one by one, this long list of things that I thought I couldn't do is really a bunch of crap. I can do so much more than I let myself believe. Wanna know some of the others? Here are just a few:

• I can't paint. (Killed that one when I painted my new dining room a few weeks ago)
• I can't cut grass in a straight line. (My yard looks damn good, thank you)
• I can't hang a shelf or a picture or curtain rod. (You should see the drill I bought myself and have been busily using all over my house.)
• I can't cook a decent meal. (I actually had myself convinced that I didn't like to cook...I kicked that one to the curb months ago and have really enjoyed trying new recipes and making up my own...invite yourself over and I will surprise you!)
• I can't start my own company. (Ha...check it out http://www.theazoregarage.com)

I want to teach my kids to not use the phrase "I can't." That won't happen unless I stop saying it...it's going to be hard, but it's going to feel so so good. Just like running and cutting my own grass and painting and hanging pictures and cooking...I have a few more on my list...watch this space for updates...

Who I am

A few weeks ago, I was at church for a prayer and worship night. I knew I needed to just be quiet for awhile and let God talk to me a bit. I had asked Him one simple question: who am I?

This is the list of words that I felt like he was giving me...I wrote them down, in the dark of the church as the worship music was playing (hence the messy handwriting):

Redeemed
Released
Refreshed
Free
Given
Touched
Anointed
Planned
Provided
Surrounded
Carried
Held
Becoming
Joy
Treasure
Treasured
Changed

Whoa, right? He really kinda likes me, eh?

Here's the thing...He has had to remind me of these things so often. I so easily let gravity pull me back into other beliefs about myself.

One of the disciplines I've been working on over the past year or so is asking others (including the Big Guy Himself) to give me words to describe me -- not just because I want to hear nice things about myself, but really because I need to re-learn, re-program my beliefs about who I am. Healthy practice...you should try it.

Tonight I needed to re-read a few of these words. This particular list I have tacked to a mirror in my room.

The coward I used to be would look in the mirror to find the flaws. It was the "humble" thing to do, she thought. The recovering coward knows that it takes a brave woman to embrace the good and bad about herself...I'm not sure if that makes sense to anyone else...What I mean is, once I embrace the glory of who I am, I have to act on it. I can't hide behind beliefs that I'm not worthy of an extraordinary life. I have to get out and embrace life, change, opportunity. And, that's a whole new habit for me. But, I'm doing it. Every day. (well, just about every day).

Can't wait to see what tomorrow brings!

Coming soon...

a re-launch...

of my blog.

of my life.

Have been busy losing things the past two years: my 16 year marriage, too-big-house, job, several friends (hmmm...maybe they weren't really friends), and several pounds.

Thankfully, through it all, I've gained so so much more...and I want to write about it. Faith. Trust. Boldness. Beauty. Worthiness. Joy. Intimacy. Courage. And freedom, freedom, freedom.

I'm coming back...see you soon, blogworld...