A few weeks ago, I heard a story about a woman who had (what seemed to be) a pretty simple rule in her home— no hats on the table, and no jackets on the couch. While simple, she would often work herself into a frenzy over it, as her children often still put their hats on the table and their jackets on the couch. One day, after voicing the rule to one of her children, they questioned it, “Why can’t I put my jacket on the couch?”
The mother could hardly come up with a reason. What she did know is that it was rule her mother enforced in the home when she was a little girl. And so she called her mother. When asked, her mother could hardly muster up a reasoning either, but knew that it was a rule that her mother too, had enforced. And so she made a phone call too. Her mother shared with them her reasoning; many children in her neighborhood had been infected with lice, and she wanted to prevent the spread of it as much as she could. With that, the hats and the jackets were to stay on the front porch.
It was a rule that started as a means of protection for one generation, but showed up as a means for aggravation for the following generations. The daughters didn’t have a reason for carrying the rule, but they did have a feeling associated with it. If you’re a mother, then you almost certainly know the deep, deep, anxiety ridden desire to protect your child from anything— no matter how small. That initial feeling that the great-grandmother had when protecting her family and children from the lice, is the very feeling that continued through generations, simply because they didn’t take inventory of the beliefs and rules that were shared in their own homes.
A similar story has played out in my own home; a few weeks ago we moved from our two bedroom apartment into a four bedroom house, which absolutely was necessary for this new season of life. As the kids got acquainted with the house, they found themselves with an abundance of new spaces for hide & seek, the perfect spot for a fort in the back yard, and an entire basement dedicated to their play.
One afternoon, the kids were making mad dashes throughout the house. For the umpteenth time, one of them came shuffling up the stairs. As I heard them approach the top step the words “Stop running up and down the stairs!” nearly blurted from my mouth.
I had spent the previous moments dish-washing and delighting in the playful essence that filled the home, so I was a bit taken back at the near outburst.
Instead of sweeping that impulse under the rug, I spent a moment considering why the kids needed to stop running up and down the stairs. They were having fun, they were safe, and they weren’t damaging anything.
Later that week, after countless time of running in and out, I found myself marching outside right behind the children, and (in a rather stern voice) saying “You either need to stay inside or outside!”. Before they could say a word, I was headed back inside. The door slammed behind me, and I burst into tears.
The look they gave me before I walked away was familiar, and I remember often making that same sheepish face as a child. The voice they heard was also familiar to me.
My partner heard the interaction and followed me into the bedroom and held me as I cried.
“I don’t believe that was your voice that came through just then.” He said to me.
That was my mothers voice. Those were her rules. And almost certainly, those really weren’t her rules or her tone of voice either. Rather, her father’s or mother’s.
While this interaction with the kids might seem small or unaffecting, it isn’t insignificant— these gestures, especially if not repaired with a child, can quickly damage the relationship.
Further, these ruptures not only affect the relationship you have with your child, but possibly the future relationships they hold with their loved ones.
It is absolutely my responsibility to sift through each and every belief, rule, and judgement, and make sure they align with our families values before they steal the safety in my relationships with them.
It’s experiences like this one that reinforce the knowing that our approach, to just about anything in life, is someone else’s until we make it our own. With that, I encourage you to take inventory of the stories, rules and beliefs you are passing on to your loved ones. Are they truly yours to carry?