An end to the disapproving father figure
Ego death and relationship changes
We have a carefully constructed environment of relational forces, which reinforce our established sense of self. We have each co-signed many unwritten contracts of relating.
I will do this thing for you. You will reflect back this desired image of me. I will enable this habit of yours. You will give me love in return. And so on.
We often contract with multiple actors in order to fulfill our grandest self-flagellating fantasies. They might be major characters, who accompany us through many stages of life, or they might be cameo players, who appear only for a season before they are replaced by the next iteration.
But what happens when we go through a massive transformation, and the relating contract is broken? Well the dynamic has to change, or the relationship dies.
One of last season’s favorites for me is the perpetually disappointed, disapproving father figure.
I’ve seen this character rear its ugly head at least a dozen times in my life — in lovers, mentors, colleagues and friends.
The core dynamic is always the same. I do something (anything). And the star character’s feedback is that whatever I did was not good enough. It was wrong, defective, imperfect, flawed, corrupt or low quality. I’m longing for recognition and acknowledgement from this father figure, and inevitably receive criticism instead.
There are infinite ways this disapproval can be expressed…
I didn’t manage to close the sale. I sold my services far too cheap.
I quoted the wrong influencer. I used too many big words.
My opinion was too strident. My argument was flimsy or weak.
I didn’t use the right image. I posted too many times.
I fumbled the microphone. I took up too much space.
I asked for help when I should have asked for money.
I asked for money when I should have asked for help.
I didn’t speak up. The sound of my voice was irritating.
I came across as too needy. I was far too independent.
There is no way to get it “right”. This impossible mission is an unalterable feature of the game. Whatever I’m doing there’s this character that is vehemently disapproving. It’s usually a male figure. He’s often a few years older than me or in some position of perceived authority.
The little girl in me wants to please this father figure so badly. She sees his wagging finger of shame and it hurts her — it serves as painful evidence of her obvious deficiency. There’s nothing that she wouldn’t do to get him to turn that frown upside down and give her a high-five instead.
In the past few years, there have been major inner shifts happening. I have seen the burgeoning of a strangely potent IDGAF energy. This scared me a bit at first, but once I embraced it, it was a golden key to liberation. It freed me from a lifelong addiction to pretzeling myself to be pleasant and pleasing. (Wheee!)
This internal project of rearranging has led me to lose a few good friends and also, to win a couple of enemies.
As I’ve grown more confident in my voice, I stopped holding up my end of the deal. I stopped being fearful of others’ negative judgments. Without the fear of being disliked — and without the constant agenda of being liked — that means I’m no longer easily manipulable by shame. It means the disapproving authority can no longer play the same game that it was originally enlisted to play.
This actor has been fired. Their part was written out of the story. They are now a quickly fading memory from last-season’s series.
In rare instances, someone who once served in this disapproving father role was able to turn the corner and explore a new street with “new me”.
I noticed that we could stay friends if they were willing to accept and respect my newly discovered boundaries. This was only possible if the person had a deep well of self-love within them. Then, they could observe me moving away from perpetual people-pleasing and not take it personally. They recognized it for what it was — an inner adjustment towards greater balance and integrity.
What has been way more common was seeing the person in this retired role getting offended and growing estranged. They become upset when they can no longer move me using the same old subconscious strategies. They might even turn into an “enemy” — and start complaining or campaigning against me. It would typically play out like this if they fought to maintain authority over me, or if they targeted my vulnerability because of their own insecurities.
It’s a sad story in many ways. When expired parts of our ego die, we lose touch with people who are deeply attached to the role that that part fulfilled for them. But what I keep reminding myself as I grieve the death of these old connections is: they were founded on false promises anyway.
I have more happy, whole humans in my circles these days. I have friends who don’t depend on me to perform the expected behaviors of a specific personality. It gives me more space to be authentic. I am equally as free to be pleasant or bitchy, to be helpful or self-serving. And this freedom is something worth celebrating.