Because many people are worried about their adult children in a tough economy, let's explore a relationship pattern that can emerge when parents help so much that they actually create dependence.
What if one of your adult children needs a car to get to work, requires a lawyer, has a medical emergency, can't provide for your grandchildren? When operating from inside the relationship's patterns, the solution appears to be simple: If you have the resources, you offer them to your son/daughter/grandchild. What could possibly be wrong with this picture?
Consider this story:
She'd immediately dropped her plans for the day and flown to his rescue, helping him choose a better used car and paying for it up front so the title could be in his name. Two days later, when that car broke down, Mike contacted the dealership, arranged for a pick-up and loaner car, then called Maureen to talk over options. Again, her first response was to take it on as her problem but this time she suffered an anxiety attack which spilled over into resentment that "he couldn't do anything for himself."
When Maureen and I observed her relationship with Mike as a system of interconnected parts, where each element in the system sustained another element that contributed to the whole, she realized that her generosity had not been free of strings. Yes, she wanted him to "grow up" and take care of his own problems, but she also had a fundamental story: "If I don't take care of people, they won't love me." Her unconscious motivation was "I need your appreciation," whereas the message to Mike was, "You can't get along without me."
In actuality, Mike did not lay the whole problem on Maureen. He wanted to discuss options in the first call, and when the second car broke down, it wasn't clear to him that it was his car. Yes, his name was on the title, but she'd paid for everything and sent him off with a smile. Yes, she was angry when he called to tell her it broke down, but would she have been angry if he hadn't called her? Hard for him to know.
Also, they had a history of the same dynamic showing up time after time, so Mike was conditioned to look to Maureen for help, even though he thought less of himself when he couldn't seem to manage on his own.
With my encouragement, Maureen shared with Mike the idea of their relationship as a system, and how they'd both played a part. Together they agreed that Mike was responsible for his own life and Maureen was available if he wanted to bounce around ideas before he made his own decisions.
Maureen did slip into her old pattern a week later when she sent an email asking him to please call because she didn't know if his not contacting her was good news or bad news. This was his response:
Consider this story:
A naturalist watched a big worm spend many hours squeezing through a tiny pinhole in its sack, until a slender butterfly with powerful wings emerged and vigorously flew away. Observing a second cocoon, the naturalist became impatient and made a thin cut in the sack so the creature wouldn't have such a struggle. This butterfly emerged after twenty minutes, but with weak wings and a heavy bottom. Without the exertion that pushed juice up into its now flaccid and flabby wings, it couldn't fly!Upon hearing this story, my client Maureen significantly changed her approach with her adult son. Mike had finally found a job after a long struggle and had managed to pay $800 for a friend's old car and ante up for car insurance on his own. After a few weeks of work, he'd found himself stranded on the freeway when the car's engine seized up (oil leak) and couldn't be repaired. Searching for options and knowing he didn't have good enough credit to finance a car, he'd called Maureen to discuss the possibility of a loan.
She'd immediately dropped her plans for the day and flown to his rescue, helping him choose a better used car and paying for it up front so the title could be in his name. Two days later, when that car broke down, Mike contacted the dealership, arranged for a pick-up and loaner car, then called Maureen to talk over options. Again, her first response was to take it on as her problem but this time she suffered an anxiety attack which spilled over into resentment that "he couldn't do anything for himself."
When Maureen and I observed her relationship with Mike as a system of interconnected parts, where each element in the system sustained another element that contributed to the whole, she realized that her generosity had not been free of strings. Yes, she wanted him to "grow up" and take care of his own problems, but she also had a fundamental story: "If I don't take care of people, they won't love me." Her unconscious motivation was "I need your appreciation," whereas the message to Mike was, "You can't get along without me."
In actuality, Mike did not lay the whole problem on Maureen. He wanted to discuss options in the first call, and when the second car broke down, it wasn't clear to him that it was his car. Yes, his name was on the title, but she'd paid for everything and sent him off with a smile. Yes, she was angry when he called to tell her it broke down, but would she have been angry if he hadn't called her? Hard for him to know.
Also, they had a history of the same dynamic showing up time after time, so Mike was conditioned to look to Maureen for help, even though he thought less of himself when he couldn't seem to manage on his own.
With my encouragement, Maureen shared with Mike the idea of their relationship as a system, and how they'd both played a part. Together they agreed that Mike was responsible for his own life and Maureen was available if he wanted to bounce around ideas before he made his own decisions.
Maureen did slip into her old pattern a week later when she sent an email asking him to please call because she didn't know if his not contacting her was good news or bad news. This was his response:
All is well and everything will be great with my car. They're putting in a "new" engine which will have fewer miles than the original and they're going to warranty the whole car. We're cool, Mom. Please get some rest, don't worry, and I will call you on the weekend.
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