Seeing myself in a new light

I’ve been trying to reframe some of my past experiences and look at them from a different angle. It’s necessary for me to be gentler and more compassionate with myself, and to recognize the ultimate truth: we can only ever do what is within our power at that very moment. Hindsight may tell us that we should have done differently, but that is a hindsight that is based on a new understanding of the situation that is different than the knowledge we had at the time we were going through it.

To wit:

I used to believe that my father didn’t love me because I was not a good enough son to be lovable.

Now I see that my father’s inability had nothing to do with me. I have sons of my own now, and at no point have I ever not loved them, no matter whether they were making good decisions or bad, meeting the expectations I had for them or not, or for being the child I wanted them to be or not.

I used to believe that it was somehow my fault that my eldest step-brother sexually abused me. That I had asked for it, or that I had brought it upon myself.

Now I see that it was never about me. It was about him and his twisted need to exert power on the weak and vulnerable. I did not bring it on myself — I was a child who had no idea of the things he inflicted on me. I could not have given informed consent. And even if I had tried to: he was an adult and he should have known better.

I used to believe that my first wife’s overdose on narcotics was my fault for not drawing a line. Not having an intervention. Not checking on her the night she died.

Now I see that I was doing the best I could at the time, with an incredibly stressful situation and a quandary that the best philosophers would struggle to unravel: do I trust the wife I loved and ultimately lose her to an accidental overdose, or shatter that trust and accuse her of her addiction, risking the loss of her and my son? Maybe now, at 50 and with the life experience I have gained, and coming from a healthier, more stable mindset, I could make sense of that. At 30, and working full time to take care of our entire family and suffering from suicidal ideations? There’s no way. I wasn’t capable of that. And so — I recognize that I did the best I could at the time. I made mistakes. Humans always do. But I don’t deserve to suffer forever because I wasn’t capable of solving an impossible puzzle or predicting the future.

I used to believe that it was all my fault that, in my grief, I remarried a woman who, I now realize, never loved me and was terrible for me and my son.

Now I see that I was blinded by my grief and not capable of making the best decisions for myself. My friends and family could have intervened (or maybe they couldn’t have because of their own limits at the time). I made a mistake — one that, in hindsight, was understandable — and I did the best I could to protect myself and care for all three of my sons while I fixed the mistake and ended the relationship. Furthermore, I tried to make the best decisions I could in letting her go her own way without anger or vindictiveness, and I continued to support and love our sons to this day. If anything, I think there is something commendable about that.

I used to believe that if I had loved my last wife more, I could have made her happy in our relationship and saved it.

Now I see that her depression and unhappiness, her isolation and low self-esteem — those were not things I caused, and they were not things I could fix for her. We can do things to support one another and show people that we care, but at the end of the day, only she could make her love herself. Only she could make herself happy. I did the best I could for her for over ten years. Again, I made mistakes. But I always did the best I could not to be hurtful. I did the best I could at the time.

I used to believe that all of the mistakes I made and grief and shame I endured meant I was a bad, unlovable person.

Now I see that I was just a man, perhaps no better or worse than any other, doing my best to survive tragedies and make the best decisions I could given the situations I was in. I can analyze them now and learn from them, so that maybe I could do better in the future, but those mistakes and failings make me human, not unlovable.

I have always deserved love. I always will deserve love. My mistakes do not change that fundamental truth.