Abused No More

Half An Orange And You

You might be wondering whether I have taken leave of my senses? 

After all what has any orange, whole or halved, to do with emotional abuse? 

Not a lot.  

But think book titles, specifically:  “Meeting Your Half-Orange”, by Amy Spencer. The half-orange is a translation of the Spanish phrase mi media naranja, which means “my half-orange”; use to describe, in love, one’s sweetheart, one’s beautifully perfect other half. 

Now, what’s a book about meeting your half-orange, from Dating Optimist Amy Spencer, possibly got to do with where you are now in your life?  

The fact that you are reading this blog tends to suggest that you have been struggling to transform the very sour half-lemon in your life into a half-orange, and failing miserably.  

It’s not surprising.  And it’s not your fault.  

For two reasons.  First, as you already know to your cost, there are no magic wands; and lemons don’t turn into oranges.  Second, ‘your’ half-lemon is very happy to be a half-lemon; he enjoys being so sour as to be thoroughly unpleasant.  

You want sweetness in your life; all he ever offers you is sourness.  Because that is all he wants you to have.

 (Of course, there were the few good times at the start of the relationship, but those were just to grab your attention and get you hooked on him.) 

Dating is probably the last thing on your mind right now.  And rightly so.  You have every reason to fear meeting another half-lemon – until you can grasp all that is fantastic and valuable about you. 

“Meeting Your Half-Orange” has a great message for you.  The message is about who you need to be – and can be – in order to have a happy life.  Amy Spencer argues that in order to meet a great partner, you need to be the vibrant, fantastic person that you really are.  

Now, I have a fair idea of the kind of things your abusive half-lemon has said about you.  (My half-lemon said the same things, give or take a bit, to me.)  They weren’t complimentary.  And they are certainly not true.  It’s just a fact that a sour person will say sour things – that’s an integral part of his job description.  (And how he loves that job description!) 

You don’t need to think about dating, to start to upgrade the view you have of yourself.  Amy Spencer provides you with some great tools to discover how fantastic you really are.  

Your abusive partner had a vested interest in turning you into the shadow of a person.  That is what it takes for him to feel worthwhile and important.  But you don’t have to go there. 

Let go of his vision of you.  

Reclaim who you are.  Amy Spencer can give you some fantastic pointers to do just that.   

Whether or not you are ever going to want to meet your half-orange, you owe it to yourself to become the sweet, juicy, perfectly lovable person you truly are.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

On Selflessness And Humility

I just had to read Lori Gottlieb’s “Mr Good Enough”.  From what the press had said about it, before it was published, it sounded like a book I would loathe.  In reality, I do not.  

The title may sound controversial, but the book is very valuable.  It has the kind of message that you may, initially, want to argue with - or, at least, I did.  But then I found myself increasingly convinced and impressed by it. 

Yes, there is a note of self-pity in the book, but Gottlieb incorporates a number of useful observations from relationship experts. 

 

She notes that having common interests is far less valuable than sharing values and aspirations about the kind of life you want to create together. 

 

What struck me most powerfully was one expert she quotes who says that the qualities, in a man, that bode well for a long and happy marriage are selflessness and humility.

 

Contrast selflessness and humility for a moment, if you will, with the characteristics your abusive partner brought to the table. 

 

We both know that there was plenty of selflessness and humility in your relationship. 

 

And we both know that it was all very one-sided; your side.

 

Quite possibly, like a woman I was working with today, you had not considered that selflessness and humility could be masculine qualities also. 

 

Why not?

 

When I mentioned to my client that masculine selflessness and humility are qualities that nurture a loving, enduring relationship, at first, she struggled to grasp that idea.  Then she said, referring to my last ezine: “Like the man who went out of his way to bring his wife a latte?”

 

Precisely so.

 

By now, you may be wondering how masculine selflessness and humility can nurture a wonderful relationship, when your selflessness and humility never managed it.

 

The answer has two distinct strands to it.  First, Gottlieb describes a world of functional men and picky, more or less functional women.  

You, and I, were decidedly less picky than we might have been.  Also, we did not find a partner in that world, but in the zoo, at the edge of that world.  Second, selflessness and humility do not have to indicate a lack of critical faculties, as they did in your case and mine. 

 

I am all in favour of selflessness and humility.  In fact, I am at least as much in favour of being the recipient of selflessness and humility as I am in favour of bestowing it on others.  When selflessness and humility are reciprocal and spontaneous they are truly wonderful things. 

 

And, there again, reciprocity (like spontaneity) is predictably absent from the skewed world of abusive relationships. 

 

But how, you might ask, is it possible to be selfless and humble without turning into a doormat?

 

Humility and selflessness are precious gifts to bring to a relationship.  They are also gifts that have to be earned; gifts that are only to be bestowed on people who have proved that they are worthy of them.

 

Your abusive partner proved, time and time again, that he was not worthy of the gifts you brought to the relationship.  Yet, you continued to lavish them on him.  And, in his hands, they turned to dross.  (But then, most things turned to dross in his hands.)

 

Gottlieb suggests that single women in their 30s and 40s have set the bar too high.  My guess is that her thesis is very much coloured by her own experience; not that it really matters here.

 

What I would argue is that abused women have two bars: one that you set way too high for yourself; and another that you set way too low for a partner. 

 

The fact that you are reading this now means that you have served your time and your days of struggling with high bars are over. 

 

You are entitled to be the recipient of selflessness and humility.

 

Don’t ever settle for less, again.