Being confronted on character issues isn't pleasant. It hurts our self-image. It humbles us.
But it doesn't harm us. Loving confrontations protect us from our blindness and self-destructiveness.
There is a major difference between confronters and strokers.
Confronters risk our leaving them to tell us a needed truth.
They jeopardize comfort to give us honest love.
Strokers, in contrast, lull us to sleep by idealizing our specialness.
As long as you feel good, they're happy.
This is more addictive, than loving. And it certainly isn't safe.
We all need praise... but praise affirms the truth! Strokers, however, avoid the truth by exclusively praising.
Beware of people who only tell you your good points, justifying it by a desire to be "positive".
They aren't loving you enough to tell you when your attitude or behavior is driving your life over a cliff,
even though you desperately need to know it.
Thank you for this Carolyn,
This helped to affirm for me about my
drinking enabler. This was woman who I knew from my church who introduced me to my N saint therapist. This woman, enabler as I will call her, was wealthy and in her 50's, she latched on to me at a time in my life when I was hurting, vulnerable, needy, experiencing memories.
I got sober first when I was 17 and stayed sober in AA throughout my twenties. But when I was in my early thirties I began to drink again to numb the pain that was surfacing from my childhood, it was another level of deeper memories. By this time in my life, at 32, I had already spent what felt like 4 intense years in couch therapy and another 8 years previous with a MFCC. I was tired of therapy and healing. Unconsciously I returned to the bottle at a time when my deepest and most painful wounds were just about to surface. That was also when I returned to the Catholic church and met this enabler church going woman.
She used to provide alcohol for me, keeping her house a constant open door for me. Never did it occur to me to really question her motives, she went to church, seemed friendly enough and had a charming and engaging personality.
At first, the only condition for her friendship was that I just hang out with her and keep her company. Then I had to walk her dog, who I really loved but it eventually became a chore. Then I had to start running errands for her. Slowly I got pulled in. However, I was no saint. Just like she was using me, exploiting me, I was using her for alcohol and a non-confrontational unlimited drunk safe place to drink and hang out.
As my drinking progressed, and my misery from the hang overs as well as my guilt set in, I started to try to stop but enabler would say things like "it is OK -- God loves you no matter what and he knows how much you like to drink, just drink." She drank a lot too and her money pit seemed endless. She flaunted it and spent it on people to buy her friends. Underneath she felt really unworthy and suffered from very low self-esteem.
Many times, lovingly, I tired to tell her about her low self-image as well I would confront her about her exploitation. One of her favorite comments was "I am a giving friend therefore I am entitled to demand that my friends give back to me," can you believe it? I called her on that one once, telling her about unconditional giving and that if she is going to give she better not expect anything in return. Since I am not a taker I could not just keep taking from her, I had to give to her and help her but I felt trapped. I could not pull away enough to get sober -- The vicious cycle in our friendship went on for over two years.
But I eventually did pull away, I got sober, returning to my old ex-drunk AA friends, as we call each other. They loved me and helped pull me away from the toxic enabler from my church.
The bottom line was that she never once said "I think you are drinking too much" or, "I do not think it is a good idea that you drive home, you have had too much to drink." On the contrary, she allowed me to drive home drunk so many times I can't even count.
When I got about 9 months sober I confronted her and asked her why she never tried to tell me that I was drinking too much. She just sat there silently and fearfully - for a woman who loved to talk, she had nothing to say.
That was one of the last times that I ever really spoke with her.
Lise
