Hi Anita,

No worries!! I just thought I’d reach out just in case since I really enjoy our conversations, they provide me with an interesting perspective. I’ll add more after I hear from you again. 🙂

Nea

Better said than done tho! Today was much better. I spent some nice quality time with my husband. I’m just focusing on that and being happy for my baby girl!

Good afternoon Anita!

Thanks again for sharing this, Anita. The study you shared about love and family dynamics was really interesting, and I think it’s given me quite a few things to reflect on.

I think what you mentioned about the need to restore peace really resonates with me too. I feel like I’m caught in this crossfire between wanting peace, wanting to stand my ground, supporting my husband, and also being so close to labor. All of those anxious thoughts seem to get jumbled together, and I start feeling like I need to somehow fix everything.

The other day I was reflecting a lot on family conflict and how deeply fights used to disturb me growing up. I think part of what I’m realizing now is that I need to do better at breaking that pattern rather than continuing to feel responsible for restoring peace whenever something goes wrong.

I also think that, over the years, my husband and I became very close with my family. He wanted that closeness too, but looking back, I think the boundaries became blurred to the point where the respect and peace that should have existed weren’t always fully there. Especially with my parents, I started noticing that even smaller things could become issues, and perhaps we had all become a little too intertwined.

I think my biggest struggle now is learning to separate my relationship with my husband and the family we are building from my relationship with my parents and extended family. And maybe part of that is accepting that my husband doesn’t have to process this the same way I do. If what he can offer right now is simply being civil, rather than letting everything go or returning to the closeness that existed before, I need to learn that it’s okay. I don’t have to force everyone back into the version of “normal” that makes me feel temporarily safe.

Nea

Hi Anita,

First, thank you for what you said about the maturity and insight I’ve brought to these conversations. That genuinely meant a lot to me, especially during such an emotionally difficult few days. I can also see how much time you take out of your own day to respond thoughtfully to me and to others here, and I truly find that inspiring. If I knew you in person, I would honestly love to take you for coffee and bring you flowers just to thank you for listening to me and helping me process all of this these past few days. So, for now, please accept some virtual flowers instead 💐🌷

It’s been a very emotionally and mentally heavy day, but I do understand what you meant when you mentioned stress. My background is actually in healthcare, so I understand where you were coming from. I think after the last few days, though, I really want to make a conscious effort to reduce the amount of stress I’m carrying, especially this close to having the baby.

I think part of what has been difficult is finally seeing some of these dynamics for what they are, while also accepting that seeing them clearly doesn’t immediately make them easier emotionally.

There’s also the situation with my husband. I love him, and I understand why he feels the way he does. But my anxiety keeps pulling me toward trying to preserve some kind of family peace. I find myself asking him to stay neutral, say hi, or maintain some basic interaction with my dad. He has told me that at family occasions he can be civil and respectful, but right now he doesn’t want to go beyond that or pretend everything is okay. I think I have to learn to accept that boundary rather than repeatedly trying to convince him otherwise simply because the distance between them makes me uncomfortable.

Interestingly, the serenity prayer you shared — about accepting what we cannot change, having the courage to change what we can, and having the wisdom to know the difference — is something my dad himself used to say quite often. There is almost an irony in that for me now. I think he understands certain ideas intellectually but doesn’t necessarily recognize when they apply to his own behaviour.

Even over the last few days, he made a face toward my husband during one interaction and then removed himself from another family group chat. Those things may seem small individually, but they reinforce for me that he is still reacting in his own way rather than trying to repair anything.

I think what I’m struggling with now is accepting that perhaps there isn’t something for me to fix between them. I can love my dad, acknowledge the things he has done for me, love and support my husband, and still recognize that their relationship is ultimately theirs. Maybe my responsibility now is not to manufacture peace between them, but to stop carrying their relationship around in my own head and trying to manage everyone’s reactions.

I understand that logically. I’m just trying to figure out how to actually live it, especially when my anxiety keeps telling me that if I don’t intervene, the family will never feel normal again.

Nea

Good morning Anita,

I hope you have a good start to your weekend.

I read your post and am adding my reply now as a continuation of what I wrote above.

Thank you for taking the time to explain the different forms of empathy and restraint. Reading those definitions gave me language for something I have struggled to understand for a very long time. I can see how my dad can show very different levels of empathy, restraint, and awareness depending on the person, the setting, and the consequences involved. That realization is honestly very sad for me.

I think one of the hardest parts is that people are rarely completely black and white in real life. It would almost be easier emotionally if they were. When someone is your parent, you want to believe they are one of your safe people. You remember the moments when they were caring, loving, funny, supportive, or generous, and those memories coexist with the moments that made you frightened, hurt, or unsafe.

It has taken me a very long time, and I think I am still coming to terms with seeing my dad and our family dynamics for what they actually are rather than what I wish they could be.

I still remember the small moments of care. I remember all of the financial generosity too. And sometimes that generosity feels as though it hangs over my head as an obligation — almost like because someone has done so much financially, I should tolerate things that I otherwise know are not okay. Logically I know generosity does not cancel out harmful behavior, but emotionally it is much harder to separate those things when it is your parent.

I think that is also why, whenever my anxiety flares, my mind immediately starts searching for a way to restore peace. I start wondering whether my husband can somehow help fix things or whether there is something I should do differently. I haven’t asked him about this topic for the last couple of days because I recognize that repeatedly trying to solve it is not helping either of us.

What I am struggling with now is the uncertainty. My mind jumps ahead to future holidays, birthdays and different seasons of our lives and worries that things will remain cold and uncomfortable. I keep wanting to know how this ends, even though I realize there may not be an answer right now.

My husband would still like some kind of conversation eventually. He wants the opportunity to explain his perspective, reflect on what happened and acknowledge where he could have handled things differently, while also making it clear that the verbal abuse and physical intimidation were not okay.

The difficulty is that I know my dad extremely well. I have very little confidence that it would actually become that kind of conversation. I think it would likely become very one-sided, with my dad focusing primarily on what he believes my husband did wrong and expecting an apology without being willing to meaningfully examine his own actions.

My husband has said he can remain civil and be in the same spaces, but if that conversation never happens, he does not feel comfortable initiating conversation or pretending the relationship has simply returned to normal. I understand where he is coming from, even though emotionally it is still very painful for me because they once had a genuinely close relationship.

I also really want to thank you for sharing what you experienced with your mother. Your mother and my father are obviously different people and our experiences are not identical, but something you wrote really stayed with me — the difficulty of holding memories of warmth and love alongside memories of humiliation and fear.

I think there is a particular kind of wound in realizing that someone you instinctively viewed as a safe person was not always safe. And I imagine that is something both of us can understand in our own ways.

Thank you again for sharing so openly with me. Your post gave me a lot to think about.

Nea

Good evening, Anita 🙂

I’m glad to have these conversations as well. I think there is always something we can learn from one another regardless of age or differences in life experience, and I appreciate hearing perspectives that make me think about things differently.

What you said about strategic or selective empathy is interesting. Perhaps my dad isn’t fully capable of the genuine empathy I’m thinking of, and some of it is connected to how he wants to be perceived socially. I’m not sure that’s something I’ll ever fully know.

As for whether that concern about his image would prevent him from physically hurting someone, I’m less certain. Usually someone has intervened when things were escalating, and there have been a few times when the police had to be called. So I don’t really know how far things could have gone otherwise. But I do understand your perspective that his concern for his image may create some restraint.

What is sad is that the people who should matter most—the ones who have been there throughout his life—often don’t receive the same empathy or consideration. Yet I’ve seen him put so much energy into friendships. Many of those friendships eventually end after some conflict or behaviour, and then new ones take their place. Maybe that supports what you’re saying—that something which isn’t entirely genuine can only be maintained for so long.

I even saw something similar with my husband. Their relationship felt very different in the earlier years, but the dynamic changed significantly over time, especially once work became involved.

And what you shared about being emotionally fused with your mother resonates with me. That instinct to immediately think about a parent’s feelings, even when they are the one who caused the hurt, is something I’m becoming much more aware of in myself.

Nea

Good evening, Anita 🙂

Thank you for your thoughtful response and questions.

My dad, especially because of his generation and Indian roots, definitely sees counselling as something he himself would never need. Ironically, throughout our lives, he has often told us that we need counselling. His perspective has generally been that he only explodes when other people escalate or provoke him, rather than recognizing that how he responds is ultimately his responsibility.

Regarding the recent argument, the yelling did not initially come from my husband. It started over an issue with some equipment in the house. My husband was trying to clarify what he meant because my mom wasn’t fully understanding him, and because part of the discussion related to my health, he said that the focus should be on me being pregnant rather than the household issue.

My dad responded along the lines of, “Don’t tell us, we know she’s pregnant,” and then, in a raised and authoritative tone, told my husband that enough was enough and to stop talking. My husband did not stop talking. He became defensive and responded along the lines of, “Who are you to tell me to stop talking?” He felt that my dad couldn’t simply order him to be silent because he was in my dad’s house.

From there, it escalated enormously. My dad began swearing, calling him names, repeatedly emphasizing that it was “his roof,” and eventually physically advancing/charging toward him. My husband continued engaging verbally and absolutely could have walked away sooner. By that point, they were both yelling.

I can recognize that my husband’s response contributed to the verbal escalation. At the same time, I don’t believe responding defiantly to being told to stop talking makes the subsequent name-calling, humiliation, swearing and physical intimidation acceptable.

To answer your other question honestly, yes, my husband has yelled during arguments with me in the past, and so have I. Earlier in our relationship, we both had unhealthy ways of handling conflict. I grew up witnessing extremely volatile arguments, so unfortunately I carried some of those patterns into my own relationship. If I became very escalated and was yelling, my husband could become escalated and yell back as well.

That was actually one of the reasons I began individual counselling—to work through childhood experiences and learn healthier ways of handling conflict. Later, my husband also pursued counselling, both because he wanted to become a better parent and to work through grief and experiences from his own childhood. We have both come a very long way. Our arguments now are very different and have become quite infrequent, especially as we have prepared to become parents.

I think that distinction is important to me. I don’t expect my husband to have reacted perfectly in that situation. I can acknowledge that saying “Who are you to tell me to stop talking?” and continuing to engage was confrontational and that disengaging would have been the healthier choice. But I also don’t want to fall into the familiar pattern of focusing so much on how somebody responded to my dad’s anger that his own behaviour becomes secondary.

As for everyone sitting down and resolving this, unfortunately I have a very difficult time imagining that happening. My dad tends to approach these situations from the position of, “I’ve done a lot for you, so that’s that,” and does not easily acknowledge his own role. My husband, on the other hand, would want acknowledgement that regardless of the disagreement, it never needed to reach the point of physical intimidation or someone charging toward him.

That leaves very little common ground for a genuine conversation.

Thank you again for giving me space to think through all of this.

Nea

Good morning Anita!

Thank you for showing me this perspective. I really appreciate it. I honestly hadn’t viewed it this way before, and a lot of the points you made have made me reconsider what I should actually be focusing on right now.

I’m not even wanting or asking my husband to apologize. I think my anxiety was more focused on something as small as him saying hi and trying to move forward. But even with that, he reminded me of an incident about three years ago during one of our wedding events. They had a minor argument — I wasn’t there, so I don’t know exactly how significant it was, but it was nowhere near what happened this time. He said that afterward he did make the effort to say hi to my dad, and my dad blatantly ignored him in front of everyone, then took the other guys to go play pool and essentially left him standing there. Eventually that situation passed because my dad later approached him and tried to move forward — not necessarily with an apology, but by acting like things were okay again.

I think part of what has kept me stuck this time is hearing everyone around me say that my husband should have disengaged sooner, stopped talking, walked away, etc. And I do understand the value of disengaging when something is escalating. His own counsellor has actually talked through the situation with him, helped him see both perspectives, and encouraged him in the future to try not to yell or continue engaging once things reach that point. We both started individual counselling when we found out we were having a baby because we wanted to work on ourselves and grow as parents, so he isn’t someone who is completely unwilling to reflect on his own behaviour.

But I think I’m realizing that I may need to stop being the person repeatedly reinforcing that point with him. From his perspective, something like this has never happened before, and I think he keeps coming back to, “Why is so much being made of what I did when the thing that started all of this was so disproportionate and unnecessary?” And I can understand why repeatedly hearing what he could have done differently would start to feel like the focus is being shifted onto him.

So I think what I need to hold onto is that two things can be true: disengaging earlier may be a useful strategy for him in future situations, but that doesn’t mean I need to keep asking him to accommodate or manage someone else’s explosive behaviour. He has already reflected on his part with his counsellor. I don’t need to keep revisiting it with him because my anxiety is looking for a way to make sure this never happens again.

Your point about potentially recreating the pattern I learned growing up really resonated with me. I think that’s what I need to be much more conscious of now — especially because my priority needs to be protecting my marriage, preparing for our baby, and not carrying this dynamic into the family we are creating.

I am saying this all now and hoping it stays with me but once my anxiety flares up again I may need to reach out and be reminded by re reading these posts.

Nea