Are they alive?
• If so, do I know them? How well on a scale of 1–10? (1 = who they are by name only; 5 = polite conversation once a week, you know you can talk to them about their garden; 10 = I can always tell them how I am feeling.)
• Do they tell me they love me and do I reciprocate?
• Do I feel loved – when I’m with them and when I’m away?
• Can I talk to them about money (or other practical) difficulties?
• When I’m with them, do I feel child-like, either with a desire to be good and pleasing, or rebelling against all that they say and winding them up?
• Do I disagree with them (and is it OK to do that)?
• Am I aware of displeasing them; either now as a grown up or historically as a child?
• Do I ever wish they or I were someone else? This might be a real person, someone from fiction, or a fantasy construct bringing together longed-for characteristics found in a variety of people.
Now, examine your lists. From your answers, you will be creating a picture of how attentive your parents were towards you, how much you resented or enjoyed their level of attention and how well you feel you truly know each other.
Now consider if they match up (and to what degree) to the categories below.
Meet the Pedestal Parents
Mr and Mrs Pedestal might look like perfect parents. Perhaps you live close by, share weekly meals, support and enjoy each other’s company, and hopefully feel loved and can love back in return. So, how can boundaries help you? Do you even need to adjust this relationship?
Perhaps. Do you truly view your relationship with them as equal or do you have them on a pedestal: ‘they were the best parents/parent I could ever have’, ‘they are cleverer than me’, ‘better at juggling than me’, ‘better-looking than me’, ‘slimmer’, ‘taller than me’? As you consider those questions, visualise a pedestal and your parent/s on it – how high is it? What might that truly mean for you?
How does it feel to not feel good enough all the time, compared to their brilliance?
Traditionally this can be a problem for men – sons whose father had a glittering military or business career; women, though, will be catching up with this one in career terms as they achieve parity across the professions. Maybe your mother was a well-respected head teacher, or the first woman to campaign for this or that successfully. Maybe she was a perfect home-maker and mother. Either way, your idolisation of this type of parent doesn’t allow much room for your own self-confidence.
To get them off their pedestal, it’s not about demolishing them but building yourself up.
CASE HISTORY
John’s father had been an extremely senior officer in the Armed Forces; John had decided at 10 he wanted to follow in Dad’s footsteps. In therapy with Jennie, he recalled a childhood of his father returning from postings to exotic destinations, bearing presents, wearing smart uniforms – the excitement of coming home ceremonies and his mother beside herself with happiness and pride. It’s not surprising that the little boy takes the decision and is applauded for doing so by both parents, for whom the military has been a rewarding and happy life.
What begins to diminish is the fledgling artist within John, who must be suppressed in order to bolster the young soldier. Fast forward 40 years and John has left the military and is running a big business near to where his parents have retired. He is disappointed with himself for having left the military and never achieving the public plaudits of his father’s career, such as medals and honours.
To the outside world, this is a man who appears to have been successful in his military career, business and marriage; John himself would say he has done well. But never as well as his father. ‘No one can beat the old man, he’s a legend.’
It may be a surprise to know that this character would come for therapy and indeed this is someone who has been encouraged into it rather than actively sought it, due to his marriage beginning to break down.
John found it easier to blame an unhappy marriage for his present feelings rather than face what he would like from life, because that had been forgotten long ago. John’s therapeutic journey was one of going back to his young self and remembering how he enjoyed creativity and how that whole side of him has been boxed up. By beginning to allow himself to access that creative box and understanding who that person may have been – rather than being the good boy following his father – he realised his unhappiness was not about his marriage, but derived from who he hadn’t been.
Through learning about boundaries, John realised that the boundary with his father had not been healthy. This had enabled a boundary to be unconsciously imposed on him enforcing his career choice, rather than letting him find out what he would like to do.
For someone like John, it can take a long time to lower that pedestal. And for John to feel OK about making his own decisions about who he wants to be. Within his own boundary of who he wants to be, he can feel OK and he can see his father as OK – they don’t have to be the same person.
This example shows that you don’t have to be caught in a negative spiral with a pedestal parent (where you obviously resent their unmatchable success) to be affected by it. The damage can be quite subtle from an overwhelming, albeit loving, parent.
If John’s father was open to the idea of boundary change too, he could – even now – emphasise the differences between them and show interest and pride in what John achieves in areas which are remote to his own successes.
Pedestal Parents #2 – ‘Forever Parents’
Some of you will recognise Forever Parents – these are like Pedestal Parents but not as successful and perfect. They wouldn’t expect you to follow their career; indeed, they make it clear you are welcome to stay at home until you decide what you want to do with your life.
Mum still does the washing and cooking, and Dad will sort out the car if it needs servicing or to drive you to work or collect you after a night out. Older readers may have gone back home after a divorce to discover they can pick up where they left off. What could possibly be wrong with having parents like that? No wonder you admire them: ‘They are so kind; they do everything for me; it keeps them happy and feeling loved.’
Forever kids include the 30-something starting a new job and getting dropped by her father at the office. Or the young man who can’t even make his new girlfriend a cup of tea. A newly-wed who has to call her mother for advice on using a washing machine or how to make up after a row.
Would you respect someone with such inadequate life skills? Would you want a relationship with them or to hire them? If asked the age of this character, what age would you put them at? Chances are it won’t be 30.
If you accept that while life is smooth, you’ve not yet grown up (and may be the butt of some jokes among your peers). So, what are you getting out of this relationship?
You might believe you are inadequate or lazy, but the reality is you are unskilled in being a grown up and that can change.
We’re not saying here that it is wrong to love or respect a parent, or for a parent to want to care for their child. But you are not a child anymore and it is time to shift that relationship to an adult ground for both
