Neglect & Wisdom
I was stopped at a red light at the last intersection leading out the city. In my passenger seat sat Alicia. Brilliant, beautiful woman, who was 4 years my senior. Fellow therapist in training at the time. She had decided to apply for her masters after working for years at a bar and listening to people’s woes.
Like many therapists, she comes from a complicated family life. As I write this this, several years after this particular conversation, I am aware that Alicia has just lost her dad to cancer. Alicia, I can feel into how the complexity of your relationship balanced with the strong whole-ness of your family is hugely stirred into your grief at this moment. I hold you in my heart.
As we sat there at the stop light I had just finished a long monologue about not shaving my legs because I am a feminist and all the reasons that act made perfect sense, plus the awesome added bonus that I was keep all sorts of plastics and metals out of the landfill.
I was at the end of my brilliant speech feeling particularly smart and enlightened. Alicia’s silence went on just long enough for my confidence to start to wane. She then took a slow, steep intake of breath that always meant she was going to say something brilliant, wise, true and devastating to the receiving party.
I waited.
Her words were these: “Tiff, if those are truly the reasons you don’t shave, you know I’m 100% behind you, but you’re smart and could come up with a good reason for anything. I just want to put it out there that you come from a lot of neglect and you could also be acting that out in your life now.”
We drove another half an hour to my house. I can’t recall if we talked or not for the remainder of that car ride. I know that neglect seriously impacted my emotional self, but had not considered for a moment that I might neglect my physical needs as a result of my learning, or lack thereof.
In the 10 years since that conversation I have decided that I do want to shave my legs (but not my armpits, because they get itchy with a rash); that I had never had a raincoat in my lifetime, rubber boots since I was a kid. I had never had a warm winter coat or warm winter books and I didn’t know how to properly brush my teeth. AND that there may be more that I was missing.
I had always thought of my own experience as ‘not as bad as’ something like physical violence, because it didn’t impact the body. But, of course, it did and it does.
My mouth has 23 fillings, which will impact my one term health. That’s no small thing. I will discover more of these as my life putters on.
Neglect is so insidious and the things that neglected children have to learn are embarrassing.
I was in my early 30s when a partner showed me how to properly brush my teeth. It was humiliating, yes, but I must humble myself to whatever parenting I’m given (graciously and kindly, at any age).
I notice some things here and there that are different about me. Like, my hair looks scraggly, but I don’t know how to fix it and I don’t know who to ask, but I trust that I’ll get there and that some angel out there will help guide me in these little things, that add up to big things and new ways to show myself love and care.
