We met by accident, or perhaps it was meant to be. As the story goes, I was a presenter at the clinic she worked at. In the midst of my talk, she walked into the room. In an instant of recognition, I exclaimed, “I know you!” She was perplexed, caught off guard by this public proclamation. Who was this stranger? She later learned that in the "good old days," 16 years earlier, we met in the hallway for a brief moment, but long enough for my brain to imprint her image. She had no recollection of the occasion, but now she was intrigued, so she called me, professionally, to pick up my brain about the topic of anxiety. I wondered where her interest was coming from. At that point, neither one of us was aware that she had always been an anxious person. Maybe she knew, deep down, just didn’t label it as such. Later, when we began dating, I had to do it for her, you know, labeling.
It was quite evident that she would become clingy and distressed by separations. And we had plenty of them early on because I traveled a lot back then. She frequently gave me a ride to the airport. It was not an easy task for her. The parting letter was in her hand with instructions for me to read it on the plane. Her eyes were wet, and her body was glued to me. To remain a minute longer was there, present, tacit. She wanted to prolong that moment because the thoughts of worry, the emotions of fear and anxiety took a stronghold in her mind. They foretold disaster, leaving without returning, abandonment, and many more calamities coming my way, her way, so she silently shouted, “Stay! Don’t go!” The anticipated separation was too much for her to handle even though she knew she had to. Suddenly she would let go of me and drove off without looking back.
In one of these early letters, she was expressing her intention to change. She wrote,
It is easy to worry about things that could happen as there are just so many. Anxiety is the old trusting friend, but my faith in spirit, myself, and life process is what I want. It is at these times of separation, hard as they might be, that may be an opportunity to let go of more of the old. I was so conditioned, I really thought I’d relaxed, actually, I know I have, but I am afraid that if I tell you what I want, you will take offense, distance and leave me. I look forward to stepping through these barriers, the image of my body transforming, and like an angel, just walking through them. They’ll still be there, but wouldn’t have the power, the re-sculpting process, right?
But she approached “re-sculpting” with some ambivalence expressed through these words:
I may not feel quite so anxious this time you are away. So what will I experience? Maybe anxiety has its positive aspects. It keeps me up to be alert, so I won’t be half asleep, unaware… I will be tempted to worry. Temptation is in the air. And it will be met with faith, determinism, acceptance, and enjoying each moment just as it is until you return, so we can be in each other’s arms, bathe in love energies… I enjoyed listening to Minnesota Public Radio last night on fear. I do have fears of being separated but realized the lack of control I have over that except to focus on keeping you happy, so you won’t want to be apart too much from me… It boils down to myself, my capacity to be an independent individual accepting my high maintenance needs for intimacy.
As one could tell from the above, my wife Tina couldn't quite get her brain into shape to prevent this type of emotional distress. She was a mature adult with all the attributes, but at times of separation, her inner child would take the front stage. There was an event in the past when we weren't living together yet, that demonstrates her state of mind well. We used to phone each other before we went to bed for a "pillow talk." One time I didn’t respond to her calls. That was something out of the ordinary, unexpected, so her alarm went off. She pictured disaster, tragedy, me lying on the ground, either dead or incapacitated. She had to come to check on me even though it was late. The building I was staying in was closed at this hour of the night. Somehow, she was able to get in, come to the door of my apartment and listen. Was I alive? She heard some sounds from inside. Suddenly, she realized that I was watching TV. It was loud. Her rational mind took over and told her I was okay. She was embarrassed, yet relieved. I wasn't dead, so she left.
I wanted to understand the source of her sensitivity to separation. I didn’t simply want to accept generalizations based on the evolutionary theory that girls and women were genetically predisposed to experience separation anxiety as an adaptive strategy that was preserved by natural selection to “force” women to stay around and take care of children (1). Something more specific and unique had to happen early in Tina's life for her emotional brain to get so reactive. I had to become like an archeologist and dig deep into the layers of her mind that contain the evidence. I thought I knew her past well, having spent many conversational hours with her and her parents. There were no traumatic events, mistreatment, long separations, diseases, and other common circumstances in her early childhood that could be potential culprits.
Visceral feeling. Usually, I go back and forth between memories of my childhood. I was in Maryland in Trappe. Dad was in seminary. He was leaving perhaps for a week. All three of us kids were there. He was leaving, and that arrow of emotion went from my heart to consciousness. I felt the utter pain of him leaving and probably felt mom was overwhelmed and needed him too. I felt the pain in my whole body. Jaw, torso, and stomach. We were encouraged to let go of separation, hurt, and stay with it and then back in the hotel I yelled into my pillow.
This recovered memory seems to go back to when Tina was three years old. It was after she and her family moved from North Dakota to Maryland due to her father's schooling. A very stressful time for the whole family because of many reasons. But for Tina, judging from the experience imprinted in her subconscious mind, her father's frequent comings and goings were the most pertinent. He was away not only because of the seminary, but also because he was a pastor in the church to provide financial support to the family. Tina had a strong emotional connection not only because of her empathic attunement with him but also because of the sense of safety she felt around him. This relatedness has continued throughout her lifetime to the present. Apparently, her father’s frequent absences during Tina’s early life were the source of the "visceral" pain deeply rooted in her emotional body.
The second clue was related to her babysitter Linda. Tina had a close connection with her in early childhood. She grew up in a home with four brothers. Not an easy circumstance for the sensitive child she used to be. Her mother was not able to give the attention she sought, to make her feel special, but Linda did. Tina followed Linda around and was engaged in multiple “girly” activities, special projects, and touchy-feely stuff with her. She felt loved, listened to, understood, and was given the opportunity to express her need for physical closeness. But nothing last forever, right? Linda had to go to college. Her babysitting days were over. For Tina, this came abruptly, unexpectedly, the end of an era, the rapture of the emotional bond that meant so much to her. There was a picture of that time that said a thousand words in which Tina holds Linda's hands firmly with a sad-face expression. She stood in front of Linda, leaning slightly backward toward her, and touching her body for additional support. That photo reminded me of the time at the airport when she was upset by my leaving. So I established a link, an association with these two events separated by the illusion of time that does not exist in the timeless zone of the emotional brain.
In the years that followed, she no longer had much contact with Linda. I met her for the first time when Tina and I went to San Diego, where Linda lived, decades later. The reunion was an emotional event, which brought to light the buried feelings of past times. Tears appeared on Tina's face as she saw a music box with a dancing ballerina on top. It reminded her of the togetherness, specialness, and many other long-lost moments of connection that Tina cherished. I realized that her need for guidance and mentorship with the older women she sought throughout her life arose from the remarkable relationship she had with Linda. Coincidentally, or not, one of her current best friends is also named Linda.
Tina’s desire for closeness and intimacy has two facets. On the one hand, there is the anguish of being alone, and the anxiety of getting lost and disconnected from others. Her difficulty with changes, particularly if she is unprepared for them, comes from the same source. On the other hand, there is her sense of loyalty, interest in getting to know others, ability in establishing interpersonal connections, and childlike curiosity that put others at ease. Her professional training in couples therapy is most likely related to this side of the coin too. Tina is passionate about helping the struggling pair build stronger ties with one another. Not a simple task for any therapist, hence the reason why many of them avoid working in this specialized field. But Tina is driven to understand her own "relational issues" and to transfer that knowledge and experience to others. I am a beneficiary of her acquired skills. From the beginning, I have been impressed by her ability to constructively resolve any relationship conflict we have encountered over the last 17 years of togetherness. She realized that the solution for her separation anxiety is to experience “fearless love.” Building the secure base within. She nicely expressed the healing power of love with these words:
Our love is strong, I am thinking. Why can’t this type of flow be more common so that many others can experience this kind of healing? I know that if you suddenly disappeared, I would carry with me that healing. It wouldn’t be undone with separation or grief. Life would be very challenging, but still rich with memory.
Tina has learned that fear has a constricting effect on her. Her body gets tense and her breathing shallow. If this “tightness” is extended into relationships, it distorts and restricts the natural flow of love between two people. Love expands in freedom and diminishes through constriction. Healing the anxiety caused by separation is not an easy or fast process. First, its existence needs to be recognized and accepted. Next, with intent and courage, fear requires to be experienced, felt rather than repressed or projected on others (frequently disguised as anger). It is only then that the rupture of the established feedback loop of fear that maintains the constriction of the life force within becomes possible (2). Tina has understood this lesson well and accepted the wisdom of gene keys’ teachings which states that the more she is capable of accepting herself as she is, the less fear she has, and the more love pours into her life. Let it stay this way.
(1) Anxiety Disorders in Adults A Clinical Guide, by Vladan Starcevic, Oxford University Press, 2009
(2) Gene Keys: Unlocking The Higher Purpose Hidden In Your DNA, by Richard Rudd, Gene Keys Publishing, 2009
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