“Here comes the teacher’s pet! Always has the right answer! Look at her with those glasses. Hey, how’s it feel to have the whole class hate you?”
It felt awful, frankly. My fourth-grade homeroom was the worst ever, and the year I learned a lot about how to physically avoid a conflict. Mental conflict avoidance, well, that came easily. Remember, I never saw my parents have an argument, so arguments scared me. A lot. This year in school, however, was my first experience with physical, in your face, verbal abuse. I hated it. My inexperienced teacher did nothing to stop it, and I felt powerless. We were in a different, bigger school now from my little safe primary school. A lot of families were moving up to suburbs like Suffern from New York City in those days to escape the increasing violence. My new classmates were tough, street smart kids and they bonded over making mincemeat out of me. I found myself taking roundabout routes to the classroom so they wouldn’t be waiting for me in a hallway where teachers were out of earshot. I spent a lot of time planning escape routes, and where to play on the playground with my old friends to avoid the bullies. I would replay scenes over and over in my mind, making the scenario worse and worse.
It felt awful, frankly. My fourth-grade homeroom was the worst ever, and the year I learned a lot about how to physically avoid a conflict. Mental conflict avoidance, well, that came easily. Remember, I never saw my parents have an argument, so arguments scared me. A lot. This year in school, however, was my first experience with physical, in your face, verbal abuse. I hated it. My inexperienced teacher did nothing to stop it, and I felt powerless. We were in a different, bigger school now from my little safe primary school. A lot of families were moving up to suburbs like Suffern from New York City in those days to escape the increasing violence. My new classmates were tough, street smart kids and they bonded over making mincemeat out of me. I found myself taking roundabout routes to the classroom so they wouldn’t be waiting for me in a hallway where teachers were out of earshot. I spent a lot of time planning escape routes, and where to play on the playground with my old friends to avoid the bullies. I would replay scenes over and over in my mind, making the scenario worse and worse.
Many years later I realized that that year of torture set me up for the rest of my life. It was far less risky to avoid a fight, to let someone else win, to simply leave if someone didn’t like me, or to apologize. If I couldn’t express my opinion calmly, or better, with a laugh to disarm people, then I didn’t do it at all. Only with my really good friends who I trusted implicitly did I feel I could argue. A lot of what I had to say came out sideways, which girlfriends generally understood.
In college, I discovered that I loved having guys as friends. There was something really refreshing about their directness. They said exactly what they thought. I admired their ease with anger. Wow, this was simple compared to talking with other women! There was a time when the bulk of my friends were men, and I avoided the complications of women friends.
Then, I married my first husband and things got very, very confusing. In fact, all we did was argue. I quickly learned that if I went for his bait, I couldn’t win. My response became not to fight. To let him be “right.” To stuff my feelings. To be angry sideways. Again. I knew this pattern intimately and I fell right into it. We had seven years of trying to work it out before we began therapy and, finally the scales started to fall off my eyes.
When I started studying the Alexander Technique, it all began to make sense to me as I processed through that lens. I finally faced up to how being a conflict avoider kept me from being present. Always worrying about what might happen next, stuffing my feelings to keep the peace and running out of the way to avoid potential conflict does not allow a person to live in the “now.” Life is worth the risk of being present, of learning to deal with the situation I am in, in sitting with and processing difficult emotions. When I stay with myself instead of running away, I am a complete and authentic person.
In college, I discovered that I loved having guys as friends. There was something really refreshing about their directness. They said exactly what they thought. I admired their ease with anger. Wow, this was simple compared to talking with other women! There was a time when the bulk of my friends were men, and I avoided the complications of women friends.
Then, I married my first husband and things got very, very confusing. In fact, all we did was argue. I quickly learned that if I went for his bait, I couldn’t win. My response became not to fight. To let him be “right.” To stuff my feelings. To be angry sideways. Again. I knew this pattern intimately and I fell right into it. We had seven years of trying to work it out before we began therapy and, finally the scales started to fall off my eyes.
When I started studying the Alexander Technique, it all began to make sense to me as I processed through that lens. I finally faced up to how being a conflict avoider kept me from being present. Always worrying about what might happen next, stuffing my feelings to keep the peace and running out of the way to avoid potential conflict does not allow a person to live in the “now.” Life is worth the risk of being present, of learning to deal with the situation I am in, in sitting with and processing difficult emotions. When I stay with myself instead of running away, I am a complete and authentic person.
If you've been enjoying my blog series and you have had your curiosity peaked about the Alexander Technique, why not come in for a lesson with me and find out more about it? I'd enjoy the process of discovering awareness, ease and grounded presence with you, as well as helping you with any activities in your life that are causing you physical discomfort. Give me a call at 678-720-8717, or drop me an email here.
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