A friend of mine, let’s call him Mike, is a recovering alcoholic with twenty years of sobriety. As with many other persons like him, his journey to abstinence was a long and circuitous one. Multiple alcohol-related convictions and various treatment center and counseling visits preceded his eventual change in life course.
Treatment centers, as well as Alcoholics Anonymous, have a unique set of sayings, phrases, and messages. These rise to the level of clichés, but that is not a criticism of those messages. Clichés arrive at their dubious designation because their fundamental truth is repeated frequently. Hence, the cliché label. But these statements serve as guidelines for the recovering community in much the same way that the Ten Commandments serve as a roadmap for Christians in their daily life.
For Mike, one phrase has stuck with him over the past two decades. He learned the message during his inpatient, successful stay back then. Mike narrated, “My counselor used to say that we train people how to treat us by how we react to them.”
In an early chapter of my book on relationship choices, Dump the Neanderthal and Choose your Prime Mate, I discussed the metaphor of the dance. I explain to clients that every relationship is like a dance. It is a partnership, sometimes healthy and other times not, in which each participant follows certain patterns or steps. The two partners engage in complementary, but not identical, actions. One dancer may dip low while her partner holds her, or one member of the team may spin while the other observes the maneuver. So we can say that in any relationship, be it personal, family, or work, we all fall into certain patterns or roles within those pairings.
Ironically, Mike’s remembered message of “training others” had little to do with his drinking. Its theme has far broader applications that are relevant to all of us, in recovery or not. How are we “training” the people in our life? If we are chronically critical of our children, we are training them to fear or, perhaps, resent, us? Conversely, if we habitually blame teachers or others for our children’s academic shortcomings, we are training them to be rescued by us and never accept responsibility for their own actions.
Looking at more serious, abusive, relationships we see that the two participants are engaging in a sad dance, indeed. One partner is a victim while the abuser victimizes. In a work situation with a critical or demeaning boss, the meek employee may accept responsibility for office failures that he/she did not cause. The supervisor blames the underling as the ridiculed employee accepts the dressing down without lodging an assertive defense.
There is an important caveat to submit at this point, however. We are not talking about blame here. Surely, the victim of physical abuse or verbal harassment is not to blame for the aggressive conduct of the abuser. But in the sad metaphor of the dance, the victim must be present in order for the assault to continue. So the notion of examining how we are “training” those around us to treat us is meant to be empowering rather fault-finding. Its aim is to suggest an approach for improving our relationships: methods that we can implement to “change the dance” in which we find ourselves. Waiting for others to change is both frustrating and rarely effective.
Today’s “homework” assignment: Examine relationships in your life that can be improved. Gaze into the metaphorical mirror of self-understanding with a critical eye. How have I trained those in my life to relate to me in a manner that I do not enjoy or appreciate? How can I “dance differently” with them? Do I continue to dance the same unhappy dance, yet expect my partner to perform differently?
Sadly, some behavioral “dance patterns” are so deeply engrained that the two partners have lost the ability to learn new steps. In those situations, both partners will be better served with new mates or work colleagues. But before moving on to a new partner (spouse, boss, circle of friends), attempt to ferret out your “old steps” and ponder ways to improve the choreography of your life.
How is the training going?
A friend of mine, let’s call him Mike, is a recovering alcoholic with twenty years of sobriety. As with many other persons like him, his journey to abstinence was a long and circuitous one. Multiple alcohol-related convictions and various treatment center and counseling visits preceded his eventual change in life course.
Treatment centers, as well as Alcoholics Anonymous, have a unique set of sayings, phrases, and messages. These rise to the level of clichés, but that is not a criticism of those messages. Clichés arrive at their dubious designation because their fundamental truth is repeated frequently. Hence, the cliché label. But these statements serve as guidelines for the recovering community in much the same way that the Ten Commandments serve as a roadmap for Christians in their daily life.
For Mike, one phrase has stuck with him over the past two decades. He learned the message during his inpatient, successful stay back then. Mike narrated, “My counselor used to say that we train people how to treat us by how we react to them.”
In an early chapter of my book on relationship choices, Dump the Neanderthal and Choose your Prime Mate, I discussed the metaphor of the dance. I explain to clients that every relationship is like a dance. It is a partnership, sometimes healthy and other times not, in which each participant follows certain patterns or steps. The two partners engage in complementary, but not identical, actions. One dancer may dip low while her partner holds her, or one member of the team may spin while the other observes the maneuver. So we can say that in any relationship, be it personal, family, or work, we all fall into certain patterns or roles within those pairings.
Ironically, Mike’s remembered message of “training others” had little to do with his drinking. Its theme has far broader applications that are relevant to all of us, in recovery or not. How are we “training” the people in our life? If we are chronically critical of our children, we are training them to fear or, perhaps, resent, us? Conversely, if we habitually blame teachers or others for our children’s academic shortcomings, we are training them to be rescued by us and never accept responsibility for their own actions.
Looking at more serious, abusive, relationships we see that the two participants are engaging in a sad dance, indeed. One partner is a victim while the abuser victimizes. In a work situation with a critical or demeaning boss, the meek employee may accept responsibility for office failures that he/she did not cause. The supervisor blames the underling as the ridiculed employee accepts the dressing down without lodging an assertive defense.
There is an important caveat to submit at this point, however. We are not talking about blame here. Surely, the victim of physical abuse or verbal harassment is not to blame for the aggressive conduct of the abuser. But in the sad metaphor of the dance, the victim must be present in order for the assault to continue. So the notion of examining how we are “training” those around us to treat us is meant to be empowering rather fault-finding. Its aim is to suggest an approach for improving our relationships: methods that we can implement to “change the dance” in which we find ourselves. Waiting for others to change is both frustrating and rarely effective.
Today’s “homework” assignment: Examine relationships in your life that can be improved. Gaze into the metaphorical mirror of self-understanding with a critical eye. How have I trained those in my life to relate to me in a manner that I do not enjoy or appreciate? How can I “dance differently” with them? Do I continue to dance the same unhappy dance, yet expect my partner to perform differently?
Sadly, some behavioral “dance patterns” are so deeply engrained that the two partners have lost the ability to learn new steps. In those situations, both partners will be better served with new mates or work colleagues. But before moving on to a new partner (spouse, boss, circle of friends), attempt to ferret out your “old steps” and ponder ways to improve the choreography of your life.