Demian Yumei on October 11, 2007 --
The picture on the far left in the banner above was taken last year, when my oldest daughter “tricked” me into going to a bar. We were supposed to go out to a lovely dinner at an Irish pub, which we did. But when we got there, she informed me we were going to this night club, afterwards. Well, I was terrified (but I don’t think I let it show too much). It’s just been a really long time, and I have so mellowed out.
Anyway, my son was there, too, so that was nice. They had women dancing on the bar, loud music and way too many men. I stuck right by my son’s side all night, which I’m sure he loved. But he was a good sport about it, and I did enjoy being with my children.
My oldest will be 25 this November. It was her experience in the 4th grade, I believe, that opened my eyes to the manipulation and deception involved in relational aggression.
Had I not walked into her classroom at an opportune moment…while her teacher had her back to the class, I would not have caught her aggressors in the act. I would not have had the proof to take to her teacher, who was actually telling me that my daughter needed psychological help because my daughter was telling her these girls were being mean, and this teacher just knew that couldn’t be so.
Truly.
She still didn’t get it, when I told her what I saw, and she didn’t handle it well, but it became my first step into a growing awareness of relational aggression – first for my daughter, then backwards to the memories of my own school experience and finally, smack dab in the middle of my own experience as an adult a few years later.
The next picture over is of my youngest daughter. She’s on the left. She’s ten. This picture was taken over a year ago with the daughter of a very dear friend. Her mother and I share a long history, and we are very close, but the girls are very different in their personalities and style.
It was interesting to me to see the two of them deal with one another over the weekend. Conflict arose, and my daughter, was more often than not, pretty gracious about it. She was older and the hostess, but I encouraged her to draw boundaries and helped her to understand that speaking up for yourself didn’t mean you weren’t being nice. On the contrary, it showed that you really respected not only the other person, but yourself.
The next older looking picture was taken…oh, let’s see…about 40 years ago. I’m the older one with my little sister. Isn’t she adorable? I love this picture, because it’s one of the few of us taken together. Ours was a very abusive childhood – physical, mental, emotional and verbal abuse. My sister died from cancer three years ago. I lost a part of myself.
The miracle of our relationship is that we found each other again after being estranged for years. This happens a lot in abusive families. My father played all of us, siblings and our mother, against one another and used each one of us according to his needs. I guess in this situation, it was my father who was the relational aggressor – at least the relational manipulator.
Somehow, in our separate healing journeys, we found each other, and in the last four years of her life, especially, we became deeply and intimately close. We were more than biological sisters. We were sisters of the heart and spirit.
The last picture, the one on the far right, is of Cheryl Dellasega and I at a women’s retreat a few years back. I love this picture. I rarely see Cheryl anymore these days. We’re both new grandmothers and have a ton of projects on our hands.
I learned a lot from Cheryl. She’s always been gracious in sharing her materials and knowledge, and her devotion to helping others deal with relational aggression is inspirational to me. Plus, she’s a prolific writer, while me…well, let’s just say that I really admire that.
Anyway, it seems fitting to have a collage of photos of strong girls and women for this blog on relational aggression, which is only a part of how we relate to one another. Relational affection is just as much a reality, and I want to be reminded of that everytime I come here.
Mothers and daughters can be close, and conflicts can be addressed and dealt with, and rivalry that has its roots way back in childhood can melt away as people grow and priorities shift, and women can be friends. Good friends. True friends
The picture on the far left in the banner above was taken last year, when my oldest daughter “tricked” me into going to a bar. We were supposed to go out to a lovely dinner at an Irish pub, which we did. But when we got there, she informed me we were going to this night club, afterwards. Well, I was terrified (but I don’t think I let it show too much). It’s just been a really long time, and I have so mellowed out.
Anyway, my son was there, too, so that was nice. They had women dancing on the bar, loud music and way too many men. I stuck right by my son’s side all night, which I’m sure he loved. But he was a good sport about it, and I did enjoy being with my children.
My oldest will be 25 this November. It was her experience in the 4th grade, I believe, that opened my eyes to the manipulation and deception involved in relational aggression.
Had I not walked into her classroom at an opportune moment…while her teacher had her back to the class, I would not have caught her aggressors in the act. I would not have had the proof to take to her teacher, who was actually telling me that my daughter needed psychological help because my daughter was telling her these girls were being mean, and this teacher just knew that couldn’t be so.
Truly.
She still didn’t get it, when I told her what I saw, and she didn’t handle it well, but it became my first step into a growing awareness of relational aggression – first for my daughter, then backwards to the memories of my own school experience and finally, smack dab in the middle of my own experience as an adult a few years later.
The next picture over is of my youngest daughter. She’s on the left. She’s ten. This picture was taken over a year ago with the daughter of a very dear friend. Her mother and I share a long history, and we are very close, but the girls are very different in their personalities and style.
It was interesting to me to see the two of them deal with one another over the weekend. Conflict arose, and my daughter, was more often than not, pretty gracious about it. She was older and the hostess, but I encouraged her to draw boundaries and helped her to understand that speaking up for yourself didn’t mean you weren’t being nice. On the contrary, it showed that you really respected not only the other person, but yourself.
The next older looking picture was taken…oh, let’s see…about 40 years ago. I’m the older one with my little sister. Isn’t she adorable? I love this picture, because it’s one of the few of us taken together. Ours was a very abusive childhood – physical, mental, emotional and verbal abuse. My sister died from cancer three years ago. I lost a part of myself.
The miracle of our relationship is that we found each other again after being estranged for years. This happens a lot in abusive families. My father played all of us, siblings and our mother, against one another and used each one of us according to his needs. I guess in this situation, it was my father who was the relational aggressor – at least the relational manipulator.
Somehow, in our separate healing journeys, we found each other, and in the last four years of her life, especially, we became deeply and intimately close. We were more than biological sisters. We were sisters of the heart and spirit.
The last picture, the one on the far right, is of Cheryl Dellasega and I at a women’s retreat a few years back. I love this picture. I rarely see Cheryl anymore these days. We’re both new grandmothers and have a ton of projects on our hands.
I learned a lot from Cheryl. She’s always been gracious in sharing her materials and knowledge, and her devotion to helping others deal with relational aggression is inspirational to me. Plus, she’s a prolific writer, while me…well, let’s just say that I really admire that.
Anyway, it seems fitting to have a collage of photos of strong girls and women for this blog on relational aggression, which is only a part of how we relate to one another. Relational affection is just as much a reality, and I want to be reminded of that everytime I come here.
Mothers and daughters can be close, and conflicts can be addressed and dealt with, and rivalry that has its roots way back in childhood can melt away as people grow and priorities shift, and women can be friends. Good friends. True friends