Dear Sadlyconfused,

you are very welcome. I’ve been meaning to write to you earlier, but had to attend to some things this week and didn’t have that much time.

Yeah, my husband is kind, affectionate and dependable so I do feel safe with him. I know it is generally said that daughters of abusive fathers will often pick spouses who have the same traits. I think I turned it on its head a little bit in that I didn’t follow this pattern, however subconsciously I kind of expected more of the same.

I was pleased to hear that your husband is very different from your late father! In the beginning I was concerned that your husband might have some similarity with your father and not respect you enough. This was for the exact same reason that you mentioned: that we often choose partners who remind us of our parents. But it’s not the rule, because sometimes we seek partners who are the opposite of our parents, who can give us what our parents couldn’t… anyway, I am glad that you chose well!

My father passed away back in August and we hadn’t spoken for years.

I can imagine that you were relieved when your father passed away. Even if you weren’t on speaking terms for years prior to his death, you never knew what to to expect from him, because he was capable of doing nasty things, such as popping up at your office and making a scene. And so you were in a constant state of stress…

He wouldn’t take ownership of his behaviour or try to change it for the better, so sadly there was no way of having any meaningful relationship with him.

I know what you mean, because my mother is similar – she also doesn’t believe she did anything wrong in the way she raised me. In her mind, she is the victim and I am the villain, so there isn’t much base for an honest relationship. We do have a superficial contact, we see each other once or twice per year (I live in another country), and that’s it. Nothing deeper is possible, because she would immediately start blaming me. So unfortunately I need to keep my guard up, and our relationship is very very limited.

When I learned he was ill I was considering the possibility of reconnecting with him in a way that would have been surface level and required lots of boundaries, but he passed away very suddenly. Honestly, now he’s gone it’s been easier to grieve for the lack of relationship fully and to be kinder to myself about how everything went down. For years I felt a lot of shame and blamed myself for it all but I now see that I was between a rock and hard place when it came to him.

I totally understand you when you say you could have only reconnected on the surface level, and with lots of boundaries – that’s exactly how my relationship is with my mother in the past 3-4 years. Because I’ve realized there cannot be anything deeper.

Your father sounds like he was even more toxic than my mother. And so it’s totally understandable that you cut contact completely in the years prior to his death. Because you needed to protect yourself. Because each contact meant exposing yourself to more “poison”, and you didn’t want that.

So please don’t blame yourself for cutting contact – it’s was a self-protection measure. You did the right thing. If he had truly changed and wanted to repair the relationship before his death, he would have reached out to you. But he didn’t… It is sad, but if the parent is so blind and their heart so closed, there is nothing we can do.

One thing I’ve struggled with ever since I was a child is the feeling of unworthiness when I fear something innocuous, like a conversation with what I perceive to be an authority figure (for example, a GP), and the panic symptoms start to arise. I’ve only recently started to understand that there are probably little nuances to tone of voice or the setting that my brain links back to previous trauma (probably involving either my father or old school teachers), then when the physical sensations happen (flushed face, trembling voice) it turns into panic and shame over having such an ‘over the top’ reaction. It’s hard because I think people genuinely are confused by it, or take it personally, and I end up feeling ashamed of it.

Flushed face was my constant companion too, ever since primary school! I was sooo embarrassed of it, it made me feel like a freak, because it sometimes happened without any reason, when I wasn’t in a triggering situation at all. Like during class in secondary school – I was just sitting in my chair, listening to the teacher, and I felt my cheeks burning, and it was soooo uncomfortable.

I hated myself for having so reactive skin because in my mind, it revealed my shame and anxiety to everyone. I couldn’t fake it, I couldn’t pretend I was fine – because it was visible on my face that I wasn’t fine at all!

Later I’ve realized that I was so deeply ashamed of myself (due to my mother’s years of heavy criticism) that this shame became a key part of my personality. As John Bradshaw said, I was a person based on toxic shame. I was ashamed of even taking up space and walking this earth. Really. My “being” – simply sitting in the classroom, listening to the teacher – was interlaced with shame. And this shame produced a stress reaction in me, which in turned caused my cheeks to flush. This only reinforced the shame because now I had one more reason to be ashamed of myself!

Come to think about it, I was in a constant state of stress, because I believed there was something “terribly wrong” with me. And flushed cheeks only confirmed it. I was trapped in a vicious circle!

In reality, there was nothing wrong with me. I was lovable and worthy, but I didn’t know it, because my mother told me differently. I was ashamed of myself because my mother told me I should be ashamed of myself. Probably it was similar with your father. He was shaming you left and right, and you absorbed that message!

When I started working on myself, slowly healing the shame, realizing that I was lovable and there is nothing wrong with me… my cheeks also became less reactive. I wasn’t flushing so easily any more. I wasn’t anxious all the time when among people. I still don’t feel completely comfortable talking in front of many people, but at least I am comfortable in my own skin, being myself. And even when I need to express myself in a group, it’s fine. I can do it without freaking out because I know that I am fine and that there is nothing wrong with me.

So I believe that as you work on healing your shame, as you accept yourself more and more, your physical symptoms will lessen too. Because they are the consequence of the toxic shame that your father instilled in you… Once that is gone, the symptoms will be much less intense. And even if they appear, those symptoms will be less disturbing for you, because you’ll have greater compassion for yourself. You won’t hate yourself for your flushed cheeks and your trembling voice, but you’ll have compassion for yourself…

In fact, you may try it even now: before going into a triggering situation, where you know you’ll experience those physical sensations, try to talk to yourself with compassion and understanding. Perhaps you can talk to yourself like you would talk to a child: “It’s okay, dear. You are fine. I love you very much. And I accept you completely. Every bit of you, including your flushed cheeks and your trembling voice. You are perfect to me. And you are doing great! ”

Try experimenting with that, and see how it feels in your body….