I Am the Stiff Arm Girl

I Am the Stiff Arm Girl

He calls me the girl who can’t ask for help. I am the girl that can’t ask for help. It took his pointing it out for me to realize just how resistant I am to take the offered hand. It is almost painful for me. I find the use of the word “can’t” pretty interesting. Because I don’t think it’s “won’t, “ it’s “can’t.” I don’t know how. Did I ever know, or did I forget? Why can’t I?

He offered to give me a phone. I couldn’t say yes. He finally said, “just shut up and take it.” He came over and set it up for me without a second thought. He even seemed to enjoy it. This was a mystery to me.

He offered to run by the grocery store for dinner. I told him not to worry about it. He finally just said, “We are having tacos…I’ll pick it up.” He bought the groceries, went to my house and started cooking. I stood there watching him cook dinner for me and my boys. Because he wanted to. I couldn’t just stand there and watch, so I finally asked for a job. He gave me the chopping job…lettuce, tomatoes, onions. I never told him this, but when I was chopping, I was afraid I wouldn’t do it the way he wanted it. What if he got irritated with me? When the FI told me to chop, I never got it right. There were certain size requirements for each piece of produce in his world. Every time I tried, he would chastise me and take over. It seems like a small thing, but when the FI could use something so small to make me feel so bad, imagine the big things. I didn’t think my chopping job would matter, but what if... I was angry with myself for even worrying about it because he actually was nice to me. Turned out he didn’t care. He didn’t even notice. How normal is that?

I have been alone for a long time. I thought that I had faced the things that I had been through and had come out pretty well. In knowing someone who doesn’t hate me for who I am, I have learned a few lessons. Some I knew, some I didn’t. One was that I was always alone. Another that I was afraid. A third that I don’t trust.

Alone in a crowd. Ever hear that expression? That’s how I have felt in every relationship I have ever had. I’m pretty sure that’s not how you are supposed to feel. I think that you are not supposed to feel alone. I think you are supposed to feel like even in a crowd, you are seen. That there is that one person who sees you, knows you and accepts you flaws and all. Maybe?

In my first real relationship, I was afraid. I was afraid of saying or doing the wrong thing to set him off. I was afraid of losing him, of not losing him. I had to be sure to say the right things, do the right things, and even then it was never right. I was afraid of pain…emotional and physical.

That is where I started learning not to cry. Because if I cried, it would beupsetting to him and that was not allowed. And bad things happened. Bad things happened a lot. It’s funny how easy it was to stop. I just stopped.

If I felt hurt or upset and tried to express it, I somehow wound up defending myself. All of the sudden I would be swimming in a storm of accusation and I wouldn’t know how I got there. That started the lesson of knowing that I shouldn’t ask for anything. That is a dangerous lesson because when you ask for nothing that is what you get. He taught me that I didn’t deserve the simplest love. I should feel lucky to take what he would give me because anyone who really got to know me would leave me, too. I was not allowed to feel or to need anything…it was better not to be seen.

In my marriage, I was alone long before I knew I was. I was really alone from the beginning. That’s what happens when you are married to someone who is a lie. And I was afraid again. I was afraid of saying the wrong thing or doing the wrong thing. And I once again learned never to cry because it might be upsetting to him and make him feel bad and how dare I?

In the beginning when I did cry, he turned my tears into an attack on him. I was disappointed in him, I was making him feel bad or guilty. He did bad things. And when I upset him, it caused him stress and that drove him to do more bad things. Again, I was not allowed to be hurt or sad.

And when he did bad things, if I asked about them, he would accuse me of worse things. If I had known then what I know now, I would have realized that the accusations were actually his confessions. But I didn’t understand. I didn’t know how he could think so little of me. It was better not to be seen.

In both of these relationships I had to do the seeing. The better I saw, the better I could avoid the rage, passive aggressiveness, and the blame. And for me to be seen, was not ideal. Because to be seen, was to be seen in the negative. It was to be seen for flaws or mistakes or for taking away from them.

I started to think if these men, who I had allowed to know me, hated me that much, maybe I was somehow deficient.

The lesson I learned from these experiences, and amazing how it happened twice, was that you can’t count on anyone but yourself. The minute you start to count on someone, there is payback or resentment. They kept score. Now if I screw it up, I have no one to blame but myself. The risk of having a back turned or being resented for needing help isn’t worth it….I mean how many times can a person be shattered and remain whole? People leave, right? And when you don’t need them, it’s not as bad.

But I have come to know this person. This person who gave me something the first time we met and expected nothing in return. This person who has offered to care. This person who before I ever laid eyes on him, asked me how I felt and why I felt that way. And I didn’t want to tell him. You tell people things and they eventually use it against you, right? The men I have known take the weakness you have allowed them to see and use it to hurt you the most. But that’s

not who he is. He sees what I perceived as weakness as survival. He asks the question because he wants to know and to know me and to help me understand myself. He asks the question to understand himself better having been through so many of the same experiences. He hasn’t once thrown anything back at me, even when I probably deserve it. And I find myself wanting to tell him…I find myself wanting to know him more. I find myself believing that he will be there for me and that he likes me maybe as much for the flaws as the attributes…maybe….

I find myself believing that we will be friends truly forever. Maybe I like him and understand him and believe in him and he likes, understands and believes in me.

Because of him, I am learning not to feel alone. He sees me. And I am starting to let him. I think he probably sees more than I know. I am learning not to be afraid. He likes to tell me to learn that what will be will be. That is a hard lesson for me because what has been has hurt. But where I have expected hurt, he has understood me. And I am learning to trust. He tells me I am safe. I am working to believe that. I think I do.

I have learned that I wasn’t as together as I thought I was. I have learned that not allowing yourself to be who you are steals your life away. I have learned that not believing that someone could care is a way of asking for nothing. I have learned that when you find a person who sees you and likes you anyway it is truly a gift.

Allowing yourself the luxury of feeling like you can ask for help is, for me, the hardest and scariest thing ever. I have had so much practice not asking that I don’t even recognize anymore when I need it. Asking would not occur to me. Taking it takes some serious deep breathing. And being able to believe I am allowed to need someone I can count on…

Well, we’ll see…