Where Did My Power Go?

I often find myself reflecting on how childhood events taint our perspectives in adulthood.

I don’t know anyone who came out of childhood unscathed from some type of trauma, loss or abuse.  As children we are often left confused by the resulting feelings of betrayal, rejection and abandonment.

Lacking the mental maturity to comprehend what happened, we are unable to resolve the question of ‘why did this happen to me?’ in any meaningful way.

One could argue that it’s just part of the human condition, but the trouble is that as children, we made critical assessments and judgements about who we were and what life was all about when we lacked the maturity to comprehend and understand life from a broader perspective.

There is no internal auto-upgrading system that redefines or reshapes our limited perspectives and conclusions from childhood to reflect a broader and wiser understanding of events that shaped who we are.

It’s believed that by the age of 10, we’ve decided if we are a good person or a bad person; strong or weak; smart or stupid; capable or incapable; powerful or powerless.

Without conscious intervention, these initial beliefs stay with us in our subconscious and cloud our view of reality, causing emotional discontent and non-thinking reactions based on false narratives made at a young age.

These are known as patterned responses and when we are confronted with a similar situation the body instantly reacts as if that past event is happening again.  

These patterns become habitual and fixed, not allowing new data into the picture or a new conclusion to be made. This means we are reacting to a past situation instead of the current one.

I recently found myself in this very circumstance.

I was speaking to a new hospice caseworker for my mother regarding a current medication I had asked the previous caseworker to discontinue. Her initial comments sounded like disagreement with my request and I immediately felt my adrenaline kick in.

I thought the caseworker was going to fight me on the issue, that I would have to defend my position and maybe go over her head. I prepared myself to go full metal jacket.  

I interrupted her and started to reiterate what I wanted done and why, in an agitated and aggressive manner of course. I wanted her to know I would not go down without a fight.

I was surprised to see the caseworker immediately back up and put her hands in the air – as if I had just pulled a gun and said ‘stick ‘em up.’

I suddenly realized I might be overreacting. I stopped talking, pulled my energy way back and just listened to her.  It turned out that the caseworker was just covering her butt and going through the normal medical warnings before complying with my request.

But it really stuck with me: why did I react so fast and intensely? I wondered, where did that come from? Why did I do that? Why didn’t I give her a chance to finish before I jumped in ready to rumble?

After some reflection, I believe this reaction stemmed from when I was abused as a child. A time when I believed I had no power. The sense of failure, being unable to defend myself and being forced by another’s will.

I wondered if I may still be trying to fight that battle, still trying to win back my lost power, my dignity.

My intense reaction is likely a protection device created a long time ago, to avoid potential abuse.  My body goes into fight or flight response, giving me a false illusion—an assumption that someone is trying to force something on me when that is not the case at all.

I now realize this pattern dictates all my interactions when it comes to power, authority, challenge, or confrontation, triggering a sense of fear, disrespect, insult and even violation. This gives me the anger and justification to fight back.

Getting angry made me feel powerful and I needed power to fight; was a truth that made sense to me as a child. But as an adult, I know that anger is an expression but it’s not what makes me powerful as a human being.

I can now redefine my beliefs around power with the wisdom I did not have as a child.

These old emotional patterns keep me stuck in the past, which distracts me from seeing what is actually happening in the moment. This is something I want to change, but I know it will take effort.

So now, when I feel myself getting defensive or ready to fight for my opinion, I pull myself back and watch or listen more closely to what’s happening before I respond. I question if my feelings are real or just an old movie on repeat.