Whose life is it anyway?
A little while ago I had a strange dream. I was on my way to Gibraltar, and when I arrived I was greeted by officials with the news that I was to adopt a three year old boy. As often happens in dreams, I accepted this unexpected turn of events without demur, and simply started to face up to the reality of adopting the child. I mentioned my odd dream to a psychotherapist friend and she asked me, 'Does he look like you?' I could tell her with absolute certainty that he did not. 'Does he look like anyone you know?' she asked. The child had shoulder-length curly red hair, and I immediately realised that he looked like a woman I'd been concerned about recently. I'd been spending much time worrying about her, and arranging things so that she would not be upset by a last minute change in arrangements in a forthcoming trip. While the relationship between this and my dream was entirely obvious, I did feel astonished that at some level I saw myself as my this person's parent, and it started me thinking about the whole business of who we think we're responsible for, and why.
I talked it through with a friend, Martha, who confessed that she had a permanent list of people she felt she should ring. She admitted that there was no logic to her sense of responsibility for these people, other than the fact that they seemed sad and in need of support. She also admitted that there were other sad and needy people that she avoided because she knew that if she came too close she would feel obliged to take care of them too.
I also talked with a team leader, Yasmina, who felt it was her responsibility to sort out a stormy relationship between two of her team members.
I talked with a man, James, who was wracked with guilt and a sense of failure because he had not been able to give his wife the kind of financial security he felt it was his responsibility to provide.
In all these cases, the sense of responsibility for another person, although well intentioned, had been both uninvited and destructive.
Martha felt continuously guilty about the people on her list because she rarely phoned them, and the people she avoided in case she felt obliged to care for them lost out on her kindly company.
Yasmina realised that not only were her attempts to resolve the conflict in her team not working, but they were removing the responsibility of the two individuals to sort out the problem themselves.
James became so stressed that he lost his job and his wife had to start working overtime to keep them all.
Most of us like to think of ourselves as good people. At some stage in our early lives we decided what constituted a nice person and that is what we continually try to be. Unfortunately we are often deluded; what we think of as being nice, can actually be quite damaging both to ourselves and others. That is not to say that we shouldn't support people, but that we need to be clear about the difference between support and responsibility.
I certainly know that there are people for whom I've taken inappropriate responsibility over the years, and some of them have been surprisingly ungrateful! However well-intentioned you are, people can see your unsolicited involvement in their lives as interfering, patronising, and making them doubt their ability to run their own lives. And often what you think they need is actually not what they need at all.
Taking responsibility for people can hold them back by protecting them from the consequences of their actions, and so preventing them from learning from their mistakes. It can dis-empower people, making them feel they can't do without your support. It invariably creates an unequal dynamic in the relationship, where effectively you are the parent and they the child. It can make you feel frustrated if they insist on living their lives in ways you feel is not good for them. It can take the form of worrying about them as a substitute for doing anything useful for them. It can make you feel resentful if they are not grateful or receptive to you. And perhaps worst of all, it can take up an enormous amount of your time and energy.
Try this:
1. Who in your life do you feel responsible for, and in what way do you feel responsible for them?
2. For each person ask yourself,
- what is my predominant emotion in relation to this person?
- why exactly do I feel responsible for them? And what do I gain from looking after them?
- who else has responsibility for this person? (don't forget they themselves)
- what are you frightened would happen if you didn't take responsibility for them?
- what impact does your sense of responsibility have on both your lives, and on your relationship?
3. Think of three reasons why you might not be responsible for that person.
For example:
- That person is experiencing exactly what they need
in order to develop and grow.
- I can support them without taking responsibility for
them.
- They are responsible for themselves.
- They can ask for help if they want it.
4. Notice how your feelings change as you contemplate not being responsible. What would both your lives be like if you were no longer responsible for them? How would your relationship change? What would you lose and what would you gain?
Do let me know how you get on!