Control freaks rule, whether we like it or not
I've decided to take a break from my travelogue for today so that I might wax philosophical, and possibly even mildly curmudgeonly. Anyway, I'm just chilling here in Brookings, OR for the day and there is nothing much new to report. Oh, we did drive into California this morning and it wasn't sunny at all, and the redwoods were enshrouded in foggy mist. But, it was nice anyway. And, tomorrow we are heading out in the direction of Crater Lake, which should be very nice by all accounts. I'll let you know.
But, today, I want to talk about control. This stems from a conversation Wendy and I had yesterday. What we concluded is the whole of history is about control, if you think about it. You name it, it's about control. Education, religion of the organized sort, policing, the military, and our homes. Parenting is all about control (some of us wish there were more of it, judging from the behavior of some kids today), and even a domestic relationship involves assorted forms of control, in which one person will attempt to be dominant over another. In that context, control can sometimes be a nasty business, which might involve even domestic violence, which is a hideous manifestation of behavior and not an area I want to visit here.
What I want to talk about is a more pernicious form of control than even raging might suggest itself as being, and that is passive aggression. How the conversation came about is that we were driving along and reminiscing about our past lives which included, in both cases, having once been married to passive aggressives. In fact, both our first spouses were in that behavior realm. It's not a nice one.
My first wife didn't write the book on passive aggression, for she inherited the tome. Her father, I believe invented it. Ever smiling, he ruled his family with an iron will, but they didn't realize it because he was such a 'nice guy.' And, his wife and his kids didn't realize that 'Dad' always knew best, and always, always got his own way, and he never once had to raise his voice. My dad was a raging sonofabitch, and that I could handle because I always knew what to expect. My first wife's father used a more lethal weapon in his control arsenal -- guilt. You never, ever wanted to 'disappoint' dear old Dad because he always means well.
Well, Wife #1 learned well at his tutelage. Again, rarely was a voice raised, rarely did the smile leave her face, but her bite could be as deadly as that of Cleopatra's asp. I spent a number of years wreathed in guilt, even when I'd done nothing wrong (which was actually true -- sometimes). When we broke up I, of course, had to be the wronging party because my ex was such a 'nice' person. She was a frail and pretty little thing of whom it could not be said butter would melt in her mouth. She always did the 'right' thing, after all.
What amazed Wendy and I as each recounted their domestic tale, was how similar our stories were. The blessing is, we both attempt to eschew both passive aggression and control as much as is humanly possible. It works.
Next time, as long as I haven't bored you, some more travel tales.
But, today, I want to talk about control. This stems from a conversation Wendy and I had yesterday. What we concluded is the whole of history is about control, if you think about it. You name it, it's about control. Education, religion of the organized sort, policing, the military, and our homes. Parenting is all about control (some of us wish there were more of it, judging from the behavior of some kids today), and even a domestic relationship involves assorted forms of control, in which one person will attempt to be dominant over another. In that context, control can sometimes be a nasty business, which might involve even domestic violence, which is a hideous manifestation of behavior and not an area I want to visit here.
What I want to talk about is a more pernicious form of control than even raging might suggest itself as being, and that is passive aggression. How the conversation came about is that we were driving along and reminiscing about our past lives which included, in both cases, having once been married to passive aggressives. In fact, both our first spouses were in that behavior realm. It's not a nice one.
My first wife didn't write the book on passive aggression, for she inherited the tome. Her father, I believe invented it. Ever smiling, he ruled his family with an iron will, but they didn't realize it because he was such a 'nice guy.' And, his wife and his kids didn't realize that 'Dad' always knew best, and always, always got his own way, and he never once had to raise his voice. My dad was a raging sonofabitch, and that I could handle because I always knew what to expect. My first wife's father used a more lethal weapon in his control arsenal -- guilt. You never, ever wanted to 'disappoint' dear old Dad because he always means well.
Well, Wife #1 learned well at his tutelage. Again, rarely was a voice raised, rarely did the smile leave her face, but her bite could be as deadly as that of Cleopatra's asp. I spent a number of years wreathed in guilt, even when I'd done nothing wrong (which was actually true -- sometimes). When we broke up I, of course, had to be the wronging party because my ex was such a 'nice' person. She was a frail and pretty little thing of whom it could not be said butter would melt in her mouth. She always did the 'right' thing, after all.
What amazed Wendy and I as each recounted their domestic tale, was how similar our stories were. The blessing is, we both attempt to eschew both passive aggression and control as much as is humanly possible. It works.
Next time, as long as I haven't bored you, some more travel tales.
Labels: guilt trips, passive aggression
13 Comments:
Never bored Ian!
My mother was passive-aggressive; I always said that she was born with a silver cross in her back. When I was very young, I thought that "mother" was spelled "martyr."
My first husband was also of that ilk, and having been conditioned to believe that I was always wrong, he controlled me by guilt, too. Until he embezzled some money and was allowed to resign the bar, and even that was blamed on me because I insisted on feeding our children.
In my present marriage, we do not deal in guilt and try to discuss problems that arise as rationally as possible. It seems to be working, which is good because I simply don't have the energy for control games anymore.
Any situation in which one person has too much power cannot last, assuming that both are of at least normal intelligence.
Eeew! My second husband was like that. He couldn't tell the truth to save his soul, and whenever we had a blow out because of his childish lies - he would ply me with guilt...I ended up apologizing when HE didnt pay our electricity bill for three months!
Go figure!
You just have to write something every day, don't you?
An interesting post as usual, Ian.
At least you've both learned the same thing, so won't be trying that on each other.
regards
jmb
Guilt whether deserved or not is a powerful tool and is easily misused. We all know people like that. By the way I've nominated you for a prize.
yup, power and greed [both 'controlling'] seem to be in most everything... good points you make
Glad you got free of that "nice" first wife. Too many people get sucked right into the sickness and spend a lifetime apologizing...
Good one. I remember hearing a story about the same kind of woman. Her ex-husband said to my mother, "I never would have divorced her if, just once, she'd farted in public."
I think control is the number one issue in a lot of situations in life whether as a result of previous hurts, insecurities or just plain selfishness. The rippling effect is never-ending and requires a serious look at who we really are and make the required changes. Good post Ian.
I have to return to the Pacific Northwest again soon. It is so lovely and I could live there!
It's funny that I would read this because we are, once again, on very similar trains of thought. Last night, the phrase, "Control is an illusion" slipped out of my mouth.
The other phrase that springs to mind when I read this is "emotional manipulation" which can take many forms. As I age and grow more aware of the subtleties in which emotional manipulation manifests itself, the more I find I call "bullshit" on it, either outloud or just internally. I'm also no longer afraid of losing the manipulator, so he/she can either shape up or ship out, as far as I'm concerned. I hit whatever royal age that is (for me, 37) where I've begun to say, "My life is too damn short to be treated this way." If someone in my life wants respect, they'd better damn well give it. (And I'd better damn well stand up for my right for it.) *Stepping down off her soap box with a "thank you very much for listening*
Wax curmudgeonly. I like that.
As mush as I don't care for outright aggression, I wil take it over passive aggression ANY day. AT least you know clearly where you stand. Passive aggressive behavior is both cowardly and vicious. And martyrs make me want to scream. Um, can you tell I've had some expereicne dealing with that?
i think control is a cover-up for people's shortcomings and insecurites, thus making them feel inadequate.
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