In South Africa we believe that the spirits of our ancestors stay in the world after their bodies have died. They communicate with us if we know how to hear them, and they also communicate with God and interact with the world in ways that are just a little more powerful than people. Frequently we think of them as guiding or assisting us or throwing things into disorder to let us know that we need to fix something.
I've always been comforted by the idea of the ancestral spirits sticking around, even though I carry some skepticism. I like the idea of being able to collaborate with those who came before to bring the world into some sort of order.
But as I come to terms with the ways that my mother's boarderline personality disorder continues to impact my life, and the ways that her parents and their parents impacted her life, I'm starting to think a little differently about how the ancestors interact with us. I'm feeling a very strong impact of some very damaged people on my life, and I'm feeling an enormous amount of pressure to continue their legacy. I don't really know how to change it, even though I'm starting to see just how damaging it's been in so many ways. It feels as though saying how negative my mother's impact on me has been invalidates all the good and loving and kind things that she did. It feels as though I'm rejecting the human reality of us all struggling by saying that I want to do something different.
When I was about 13, I said to my mother that I appreciated what she had done by being a stay at home mother to my brother and I, but I didn't want to do the same thing. I was trying to say that I wanted a career too, and that I was grateful that she had raised me to believe that was something I could do. She was so angry. She said that she felt rejected and disrespected. And I can understand why she said that. But I wasn't wrong for wanting something different, or for telling her that. And it wasn't my responsibility to do the work around making that an okay thing. Her response to me was invalidating and frightening, and its legacy is one of my ancestral spirits. There's also another ancestor that tells me that it is my responsibility to protect others' feelings at all costs, and certainly over telling the truth about my needs and desires and preferences. And there's another ancestor that tells me that the pain of the people I love is my fault, and that I'm capable of and responsible for saving them from pain.
Why has it been easier for me to see the dangers of ancestral racism and sexism than ancestral codependence and erasure of the self?
I've always been comforted by the idea of the ancestral spirits sticking around, even though I carry some skepticism. I like the idea of being able to collaborate with those who came before to bring the world into some sort of order.
But as I come to terms with the ways that my mother's boarderline personality disorder continues to impact my life, and the ways that her parents and their parents impacted her life, I'm starting to think a little differently about how the ancestors interact with us. I'm feeling a very strong impact of some very damaged people on my life, and I'm feeling an enormous amount of pressure to continue their legacy. I don't really know how to change it, even though I'm starting to see just how damaging it's been in so many ways. It feels as though saying how negative my mother's impact on me has been invalidates all the good and loving and kind things that she did. It feels as though I'm rejecting the human reality of us all struggling by saying that I want to do something different.
When I was about 13, I said to my mother that I appreciated what she had done by being a stay at home mother to my brother and I, but I didn't want to do the same thing. I was trying to say that I wanted a career too, and that I was grateful that she had raised me to believe that was something I could do. She was so angry. She said that she felt rejected and disrespected. And I can understand why she said that. But I wasn't wrong for wanting something different, or for telling her that. And it wasn't my responsibility to do the work around making that an okay thing. Her response to me was invalidating and frightening, and its legacy is one of my ancestral spirits. There's also another ancestor that tells me that it is my responsibility to protect others' feelings at all costs, and certainly over telling the truth about my needs and desires and preferences. And there's another ancestor that tells me that the pain of the people I love is my fault, and that I'm capable of and responsible for saving them from pain.
Why has it been easier for me to see the dangers of ancestral racism and sexism than ancestral codependence and erasure of the self?
posted by choirgirl at 11:18 AM
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