I have a habit of getting deeply engrossed in activities and struggling to pull away from them. Take, for instance, my time in the kitchen, where I’d easily lose 5 to 7 hours once I stepped in. Cleaning was no different – new chores seemed to pop up all over the house, and the task couldn’t be wrapped up in 1-2 hours. This made it hard for me to see housework as anything but an unending and unrewarding task. I felt increasingly disheartened as I watched myself get lost in a neglected corner of the house, with no room for personal growth.
Pour Oil On My Anger
I had a deep-seated obsession with health. This was fueled by my early loss of my father to illness and my own somewhat fragile health. I felt a profound responsibility for my family’s well-being, so I put immense effort into crafting each meal. I aimed for perfection in terms of nutrition, presentation, variety, and taste. I even took to baking our cookies. It was a sense of duty, as I believed my family’s health rested in my hands.
One of my children had a particularly small appetite. Every meal with them, regardless of portion or food type, took well over an hour to complete, a routine that lasted for more than four or five years. Even when I tried withholding snacks or skipping meals, it seemed like an exercise in futility.
The slow pace of meal preparation and cleanup, which easily consumed six hours daily, combined with my child’s unwavering resistance to eating, led to countless dining table battles. At some point, all this struggle and frustration had taken its toll on me, creating a brewing storm of anger and helplessness.
Nevertheless, Mom Refused To Surrender
Even amidst these circumstances, I wholeheartedly embraced the advice of an expert who stressed the importance of cultivating healthy eating habits in children from a young age. I was determined to make necessary changes in my child’s eating behavior. I considered it my rightful responsibility and obligation as a mother.
As my kids grew, their food preferences naturally evolved. However, even when I prepared the exact meals they requested, my children’s complaints persisted. They maintained their slow eating pace, and the tension and stress during meals didn’t dissipate.
Despite pouring my heart and soul into meal preparation, my efforts were met with discontent rather than gratitude from my family. Watching my loved ones express dissatisfaction, I grew more and more exhausted, both physically and emotionally. However, I couldn’t simply walk away from this challenge, as I believed there was no one else to shoulder this responsibility but myself.
“If you don’t want to do something, you don’t have to…”
One day, while reading Marshall Rosenberg’s book “Nonviolent Communication,” I came across a mother in a situation similar to mine. This mother vehemently contested Dr. Rosenberg’s words. This was because on that particular day, during a nonviolent communication workshop, Dr. Marshall discussed the dangers of our language implying that we had no choice.
He argued that when we say we ‘had to’ do something, it implies there was no choice, and this is problematic because it means the person ‘bears no responsibility for their actions.
- “I ran the vacuum cleaner because I had to.” (Vague sense of obligation)
- “I hurt my wife and children now because I suffered from domestic violence in my early years.” (Psychological state)
- “The child provoked me, so I punished them.” (Another person’s action)
- “I asked for more money from the customers because the boss ordered it.” (Authority’s command)
- “My friends all had designer bags, so I bought one too.” (Peer pressure)
- “I’m fining you because it’s the country’s policy.” (Policy or rule)
- “I have an economic responsibility as a father and husband, so I have to go out and earn money.” (Gender role)
- “I had such a strong craving to eat candy that I couldn’t control myself.” (Uncontrollable desire)
All of these statements are essentially excuses. They range from vague obligations or external pressures to expert diagnoses, psychological states, other people’s actions, authoritative commands, peer influences, policies and rules, societal expectations based on gender roles or age, and even uncontrollable desires.
The words used to shift the responsibility for one’s actions onto past experiences, situational pressures, current societal demands, other individuals, or even personal tendencies. They are words used to evade taking responsibility for one’s actions.
That mom put it like this, she said, “There are things you have to do, whether you like it or not! And I don’t think it’s wrong to tell my kids that,” Dr. Rosenberg asked that mom to clarify what she meant by ‘things you have to do.’
“Frankly, it’s such an easy question to answer! I have to go home tonight and make dinner. I hate cooking! I genuinely loathe cooking, to the extent that I’ve even cooked when it was agonizingly painful to move. I’ve been doing it every day, for 20 years. Why? Because it’s something I have to do,” she replied.
Dr. Rosenberg, having dedicated her life to something she despised doing for so long, even on the days she found it unbearable, offered her sympathy and hoped that learning nonviolent communication would open doors to happier possibilities. But when she got home that day, that mom declared, “I no longer want to cook.”
Three weeks later, that mom’s twin sons attended the workshop, and Dr. Rosenberg asked them how they reacted to their mom’s statement. One of them responded, “Marshall, I thought, ‘Thank God! Mom won’t complain at the dinner table anymore!’”
Her son’s reaction was a refreshing shock to me. This was because it was quite clear that if the mom didn’t cook, they would have to take on more responsibilities. Yet, regardless of this, the twins wished for something different. They wanted to see their mom a little happier and to have peaceful family meals.
As for me, I had been doing household chores and cooking out of a sense of duty and responsibility. I realized that forcing myself to do something, even if I didn’t want to, didn’t necessarily lead to positive outcomes. It wasn’t a mutually beneficial sacrifice; in fact, it could be counterproductive. So, I began to explore ways to avoid tasks I disliked without leaving my family hungry.
To be continued.