A Ramblewrite Delight

Family Conflict Resolution Edition

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Some of us are instigators. Some of us are peacemakers. And then there are those of us who wear different behavioral jackets, or a combination of a multitude of behavioral clothing. Me, I am firmly in the peacemaker and patient listening camp, as I tend to be an empathetic sort overall.

However, nothing gets my internal goat bleating more than people who refuse to alter their harmful behavior mainly because of a lack of desire to learn anything new. We all are broken in ways, but to repeatedly live through the same pattern over and over again due to a lack of willingness to acknowledge one's broken bits, try to improve them and thus your life overall makes me just so darn sad.

For instance, this past month I have been reconnecting with a family member who I haven't spoke to for almost twenty years. That lack of relationship between the two of us was due to me being a bit of collateral damage so to speak. It's apparent that we have missed each other, and I am a patient sort, fully aware that humans have to walk their own path and discover things at their own pace. What this family member wants though, is to connect with their immediate family member who they have a pretty existential rift with.

You see, countless times throughout my life I have been a mediator, a go between for people with strong personalities to utilize in order to communicate. Don't get me wrong, it's super excellent when people reconcile, but I think perhaps I am getting weary of always being the rational or solution seeking person in the room. When people are led solely by feelings alone all manner of chaos tends to reign, and I am starting to wonder if all these people who use empaths such as myself see the cost it extracts on those like myself, the peacemakers.

Mediators are broken too, just like everyone else. Often times they feel not only their feelings but those of others around them. All. The. Time. Spending a life time feeling guilt over situations I had no control over has definitely taken a toll on my little spirit. In fact, just the other day during a conversation with a family member who arrogantly yelled at me that "NOW YOU LISTEN TO ME" as if they weren't soliciting empathy and advice from me over a two decade long situation that they have refused to make progress on made me snap just a bit.

Old me would have made some gentle remark, not standing up for myself or the fact that I was just being a whipping post for a person who refuses to acknowledge and grow. Instead, I spoke up, *"Wait a minute, I don't have to listen to you or anyone at all. I choose to listen because I want to out of love." In that moment an expanse of silence resounded throughout the entire conversation. With each instance of making a stand for myself I feel what makes me broken being mended. You can have empathy, love, and care for other people without being a whipping post. You don't have to be degraded just so that the miserable person can have company in their misery. Just because they refuse to change doesn't mean that I stop and wait for them.

Instead, I keep moving onward, confronting what's ailing in my form, working on bad patterns of behavior, seeking answers to my weirdness that keeps me from being functional, and always pausing to listen to those who truly need it or extending my hand to those who have had an "Aha" moment to come and join me. Personal growth is such a windy, wacky trail, full of discomfort, and in some moments full of euphoric glimpses of clarity that you are going in the right direction.

So, all that rambling aside, those of you out there who are trying to behave in a different way, those of you who are tired of settling for being treated in a way that is less than you deserve, I am rooting for you. They say you can't teach an old dog new tricks and to that I say fine, but you can teach a habitual human new directions if they are willing, and this Kat likes hiking new trails.

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And as most of the time, all of the images in this thoughtfully meandering thought post were taken on the author's perpetually perplexed at what amuses her iPhone.

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