How old am I?

I believed I was in fact ugly and unlovable, a hopeless misfit doomed to get everything wrong when it came to other people.

 

I have been struggling to rid myself of an old and well-established habit that no longer serves me.  I have a plethora of really good reasons to change, from better health and weight loss to alignment with my values and wanting to be a good role model. But when the urge to indulge comes I often acquiesce to my vices, convincing myself that it will be different this time (it won’t be) or that I deserve it (there is nothing to deserve) or that I’m missing out on the fun if I don’t partake (I need to reframe my idea of fun).

Some part of me “needs” what I want and makes me believe–even physically sense–that I have to have what I want or I’ll be absolutely miserable. Not only that, but I’ll be miserable to be around, too.

I’d like to blame my immediate family, because they can indulge in foods like pizza and pasta that are clearly poisonous for me. My partner can limit his alcohol consumption without overdoing it when I almost always finish the whole bottle of wine, by myself.

But really, it’s not their fault my body and metabolism are different than theirs. I feel like I should be able to coexist with people who can eat wheat and drink wine without feeling deprived or indulging cravings. And anyway, I know I cannot change them.

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In the last 12 years I have quit wine and bread so many times I’ve lost count. The longest I went without either was 11 months, and I really did feel better, but I wrestled with my desire a lot of the time. I remind myself that I wrestled with wanting to smoke for at least 7 years after I quit. During those 7 years I flirted with starting smoking again but did manage to kick that awful habit over 23 years ago. I will never want to smoke again, of that I am certain. And I know I can quit anything if I can quit smoking. But in some ways this indulgence habit is harder to kick because there is so much social reinforcement. And because something in me just doesn’t want to give it up.

I have a ton of resources with which to address the habit. Over the last 3 years alone I’ve amassed a lot of learning on habits and habit change from readings and courses and meditations. I’m in weekly therapy. I have a ton of practices from journal prompts and self-coaching models to body centering and breathing exercises. But sometimes when the urge hits, particularly when I am stressed, all of my resources quickly go out the window. I ignore all of the virtuous thoughts that plead with my justifications. I act like I don’t know how to “allow” an urge or what it means to get curious about my cravings. I pretend I don’t have any practices to use, and somehow I wholeheartedly believe that I only have two alternatives: indulge the habit or be absolutely miserable.

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This week I went 4 days in a row without wheat or wine and I felt so good. I slept incredibly well and woke feeling rested with time to exercise and meditate every morning before work. But yesterday, after a particularly stressful workday and before I’d done my evening practices to let go and reframe, my family and I went out for pizza. I ordered a salad, but I really wanted pizza. I ordered and drank wine with my salad instead. Later, to soak up the wine, I ate all of the leftover pizza that we’d brought home. 

Needless to say, I didn’t sleep so well or feel so great this morning. I’m still bloated from the wheat. One would think that these consequences should be enough to have me stop indulging when it’s so clearly obvious that wine and pizza do not serve me. It’s a form of insanity, really.

But I am not without resources, and I am determined to persist. Tonight I got really curious about this habit, and why I fell yet again when I’d been doing well. I considered the triggers: what was it that I felt so stressed about? What thoughts do I have that make it so stressful? I also considered my thoughts and behaviors that led me to drink: what was I telling myself? How was I behaving? Then I remembered to consider, as my therapist often recommends: how old am I being?

My reflection led me to see I was behaving like a child between the ages of 10 and 12, which I recognize because I live with a 10-year-old human child. It can seem like the 10-year-old is willfully disobedient, but really she is just so focused on getting what she wants and avoiding what she doesn’t want that all that stuff she doesn’t want just gets ignored, like it doesn’t exist. Normal parenting requests like “clean your room” and “do your homework” and “pick up your trash” are acknowledged with an “I will” but rarely actually get done until reminded for the nth time or until someone (like me) gets mad and threatens punishment. Behaviors that are good for her, like exercising or reading or brushing her teeth, are often at the top of her “I don’t do that” list. 

Reminds me of me, ignoring all the practices and well-intentioned advice my adult self tries to conjure. 

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My 10th through 12th years were probably the most difficult and unstable in my life. We moved six times between 10-11 years old; my mother was a single parent with an abusive partner, and part of the moving was getting away from him. Mom was also putting herself through college and dealing with her own addictions, and she was doing the best she could, but she wasn’t able to help me. She was highly critical and didn’t seem to like anything I liked. I never felt good enough. I felt judged and ugly and awkward and unlovable; I was teased a lot at school and I believed it was because I was in fact ugly and unlovable, a hopeless misfit doomed to get everything wrong when it came to other people.

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Developmental gaps are common in people who have had complicated childhoods like mine, and I imagine that my 11-year-old self needs some parenting to fill a developmental gap. She needs boundaries and tough love as well as a whole lot of compassion. She needs a parent who thinks she’s cool just the way she is, awkwardness and all, who believes in her true potential and helps her cultivate the social and emotional skills she needs to live in community. Kindness, service, gratitude, and connection. Presence, empathy, compassion, and self-care. These are what I am learning, and these are what I offer to my own children – my inner child and my human child. 

I’m not entirely sure how to parent this inner child, just like I doubt I’m doing things right for the human child. But at least now I know a place to start, and I know what we need. Now to get more consistent in routines and setting boundaries and cultivating social-emotional intelligence.

It also occurs to me that I should be grateful for this habit which has taught me so much. If not for this habit of indulging my urges, I might not have sought out counseling or books or courses or meditations. I might not have learned about somatics or habits, about my brain and my body, and about how to empower ourselves to create the lives we want to live. I might not have compassion for my mother who had her own traumas and was doing the best she could under the circumstances.

May this recognition and realization lead to real change, to the release of a 30-year habit of wrestling with indulgences that do not serve me, and to filling developmental gaps. 

Any advice on how to get a 10-year-old to clean her room?