An Analogy by Becky Ivory
 
In the quest to eliminate all darkness from my life, I find myself searching for all the dark places. Heading to the basement, I turn on all of the lights and immediately notice that each of the rooms are still full of darkness, so I methodically go from room to room to flip every switch that allows light to flow in. But then I see that all of the closets and cupboards are still dark, so I open the doors to each, only to realize that the corners still have shadows. Flashlights are the answer, and each shelf gets its own.
 
Suddenly, I realize that the upstairs also has closets and cupboards in need of lights to chase away the shadows, so I head upstairs and begin steadfastly flipping every light switch, opening every closet, and installing flashlight after flashlight.
 
Soon, a voice from the basement booms, “who turned on all of these lights? Do you think we’re made of money?” I hear the sounds of cupboards and doors shutting, lights switching off, and doors latching. If only they understood! I think to myself as I head back down the stairs to begin the painstaking process of eliminating darkness once again.
 
Round and round I go…until…
 
One day, I realize that I’ve been focused on eliminating the dark for so long, that spend my life in the dark, futilely fighting a losing battle, only to try again tomorrow. In that moment, I choose a new path: to ignore the darkness and focus on the light…after all, that is what I crave.
 
I begin hanging out in the chair that gets bathed in sunlight every morning. I enjoy the lights that illuminate each room I am in at the moment. I take walks outside and feel the warmth of the sun on my face. I begin to realize that the places of darkness actually accentuate the joy of the light.
 
I do not think about…or fear…the darkness much anymore. No matter where it still exists, I am productive, joyful, and at peace in the light. When the moments of darkness come, I do not worry. I know the light will come again. I even have faith that there are ways that I can create, or find light, whenever I need it.
 
Before long, I discover that I have actually become a source of light, and now I take it with me wherever I go.

John hated it when she did that. He had already put their challenging 5-year-old twins to bed to try to give his wife a break, so he figured he’d find something funny on television they could watch together. That would cheer Janice up, he was sure. But when Janice had finally drained the water and hung the dishtowel to dry, she marched passed him and snapped, “good night”. Now John was hurt, mad, and confused.
 
He called after her, “hey, don’t you want to watch something together?” “And why would I want to do that?” she yelled from the bedroom. And it was on. If you’ve been in any serious relationship long enough to finish a tube of toothpaste together, I’m sure you can fill in the blanks of what happened after that. John got frustrated. Janice held back tears of rage as she got ready for bed. John tried to find out what was wrong. Janice accused him of not even caring. John raised his voice, which didn’t make Janice feel more cared for. And eventually, you could feel the wall of ice that had formed between them in the bed, as they each faced their own wall and pretended to sleep.
 
In my marriage and family therapy training, I have come to learn some things about the Janice’s and John’s of the world:

• Each is hurting.
• Both of them only want to be closer.
• Both of them waited until their emotions were elevated and ready to explode before they shared them.
• Sharing emotions once they have become explosive only pushes each other further apart.

…and around and around it goes.
 
But it doesn’t have to be that way! When two people are committed to making their relationship better, a good therapist can help them make specific changes that have profound effects.
 
In therapy, people can learn how to:
1. Identify painful emotions when they first appear.
John could not have known that Janice had been resentful for months that she had been left to do the dinner dishes alone, while John got to have quality time with the kids as he put them to bed. He couldn’t know it, because Janice had never told. Instead, she let the clanging pots and silent retreats speak for her. After all, that’s what her mother had done. And when John didn’t put 2 + 2 together, she then concluded he didn’t even care about her feelings. All she really wanted was to be close.
 
Next, in therapy, people can learn how to
2. express their difficult emotions while they are still vulnerable, and easier for their partner to take in:
At any point in this scenario, Janice could have said, “Hey, I notice that you put the kids to bed each night. I appreciate that you’re there for them, and you’re a good dad. But I really want to be a part of that too. But because I get stuck doing the dishes after dinner, I feel left out.”
 
In therapy, people can learn how to
3. listen with the intent to thoroughly understand their partner.
Imagine how different it would have been if John had sat down with Janice and asked, “Hey, I can tell you are upset, and I want to help. Could we sit down for a minute so that I can really hear you? I want to help if I can.”
 
In therapy, people can learn how to
4. Share their wants and wishes for themselves, for their partner, and for their relationship.
How do you think Janice and John’s relationship would improve if Janice could have said, “What I want for myself is to have a partner in the cleaning up, and to be a part of that family time of getting the kids in bed; what I want for you is to feel valued and connected to me and the kids each night; and what I want for us is to be united in our responsibilities, and to have time to connect with each other at night”?[1]
 
In therapy, people can learn how to
5. Come up with solutions that meet both of their needs and improve their connection to one another.
Had Janice and John been able to effectively communicate about their feelings and experiences, there is no end to the possible solutions they could have come up with that would have improved the secure connection between them[2]. They might choose to do the dishes together before putting the kids to bed together. They might have included the kids in the clean-up process, or invest in a bigger dishwasher!
 
If you find yourself wishing you could communicate with your partner, your child, your parent or friend more effectively, you’re not alone. It may be that finding a marriage and family therapist near you could be the tool you’ve been looking for.


[1] Miller, S., Miller, P., Nunnally, E. W., & Wackman, D. B. (2007). Couple communication 1: Collaborative marriage skills (5th ed.). Interpersonal Communication Programs, Inc.
[2] Johnson, S. M. (2020). The practice of emotionally focused couple therapy: Creating connection (3rd ed.). Routledge.

​Becoming a marriage and family therapist has been not only rewarding and challenging, but an amazing opportunity to learn from my clients. I often wish that everyone could hear the important and tender moments that happen behind those closed doors. So, while confidentiality is crucial, I’ve chosen to take some time over the next few months and share with you some of the things I think everyone should know…things that can bring us closer to the ones we love, rather than further apart.
 
Jane and John (Names have been changed. You may see a lot of “Jane and John” in these blogs.) sat in my office last week, both in tears. It was over. Really over. They had been coming to my office for the past six months and struggled to do the things being asked of them. I don’t blame them at all. Sometimes, by the time you come in for help, each partner has build up walls of protection to avoid exposure to their partner’s angry voice, or dismissing attitude.
 
By far, couples who seek Emotionally Focused Couples Therapy (EFT) find great success and form more secure bonds with their partner, and then use that secure attachment to handle life’s challenges together. But this couple appeared to be on the other side of the statistics as they sat on my couch. They cried. I cried. It isn’t that they don’t love each other. They have just given up hope of ever being able to be better together, and Jane decided that she no longer wanted to try. I felt her pain at this decision. I felt his pain as his feelings of rejection filled the room.
 
In our following conversations, Jane said something that was so important that I had to write it down. She began, “I believe I know the minute this happened. It was 7 years ago when I begged him to go to counseling with me and he refused. After trying and trying, and seeing that it wasn’t going to get any better, I stopped being a ‘we’, and began being ‘me’.”
 
My heart just stopped. Somewhere in my heart, I knew exactly what she was saying. When my husband travelled 5 days out of 7, I felt that sense of “we” slipping away. My husband and I made a conscious choice to change jobs and make sure our life was together, as we wanted it to be. We could both see the danger of where the “me” path could lead.
 
This doesn’t mean that every person in a partnership isn’t also a “me”. Every healthy relationship is made of two individual people who have unique feelings, desires, and needs. Our uniqueness is what adds the color to our relationships. In fact, both Jane and John have very successful careers while still finding time for their children. In reality, what Jane was referring to was the moment when she realized…and then decided…that they were no longer a team.
 
To his credit, John had been afraid of going to counseling: afraid his wife and the therapist would hammer him over the head with everything they thought was wrong with him; afraid that the therapist would “side with his wife”. After four more lonely years past, they finally went, but by then the walls of pain, loneliness, and resentment had built up higher than they now feel able or willing to tear down.
 
And so, I leave you with a question to ask you about the relationships in your life? Are you a “we”? Or are you a “me”? Do you find yourself working with your partner or…going it alone? Do you take the initiative to reach out to your children and grandchildren…or sit lonely by the telephone hoping someone will call? Do you reach out to neighbors…or wonder why others don’t invite you over to game night? Do you draw others at work into your circle…or rely on your own skills and talents to get the job done?
 
If you find that your more important relationships are on the verge of…or have already become “me” relationships, reach out for help. There IS help. There are beautiful relationships being healed every day. Reach out to a qualified mental health professional. They can help you decide if the relationship is worth the work of becoming a “we” once again.

Recently, I had a sort of vision. I don’t mean a “saw God on his throne” kind of vision. Trust me, I’m no Isaiah. But it also wasn’t a dream. There were no plot-lines, no bananas turned into alligators, and I felt completely aware. And during the experience, I recognized that what I was seeing was something I should remember. Most of all, I should remember how peaceful I felt.
 
On a cartoon-like and nondescript pale-pink hill, I saw two versions of myself, both as a grown adult, and simultaneously as a small toddler. My toddler-self was sitting in a highchair, totally focused on the face of my adult-self, who was completely in tune with me as I sat in front of her.
 
I sensed an intimate and secure relationship between my selves, based on trust and responsiveness. I realized that the child-me represented my emotions and needs. Like a child, emotions only draw attention to themselves when there is a reason…when they have something to say. Maybe they are saying, “I like this, keep it coming.” They may be saying, “I need something more.” Or perhaps they are saying, “this situation is unsafe. RUN!”
 
For most of my life, I have not only ignored some of those child-like parts that have been trying to get my attention, but have actually despised them…wishing they would shut up, go away, and stop tormenting me. But we all know what a hungry, tired, or scared child does when it is ignored, discounted, or despised: it either explodes, or implodes. In my own life, I imploded. I developed never-ending anxiety, resentment, and an eating disorder. This is not to say that others failed to meet my needs. God surely provided angels in my life. But even angels can’t read minds. They can’t read hearts. And they can’t meet needs that they don’t know exist. This is purely an observation of my own response to my own emotions…those God-given cues that help us recognize our own  needs…and hopefully, find ways of getting them met. It took me half a century to learn how to do that.
 
Through therapy, experience, and a closer connection with the Spirit, I learned how to turn toward those child-like parts…those various emotions that needed to be heard…cared about…cared for. Once I did that, I began experiencing true internal peace. As those child-like parts of me started to realize that I could be trusted…that I could connect with my Self...that I would no longer ignore my needs, or even penalize myself for having them…my child-like parts began to relax. They no longer needed to scream, yell, throw tantrums, or hide. Rather, I could speak up, be vulnerable, and have my needs met…not only by learning how to reach out to trusted people around me, but also by being a trusted person for myself...by giving myself the love, respect, and nurturing that I had always needed.
 
As adult-me, I have learned not to be afraid of my child-like parts. I’ve come to learn that they are not spoiled brats trying to make my life miserable. Nor are they bottomless pits of need. They are simply good, loving children with needs that I am capable of meeting.
 
As I lay in my bed last night, somewhere between sleep and wakefulness, I saw my two selves relating in a symbiotic, loving relationship where needs were detected and met seamlessly, with great love and compassion. There was no need for drama, anxiety, or numbing for either self. Instead, there was an abundance of attunement, trust, and love. In short, there was peace.
 
I believe that human beings find joy and peace when we learn how to both receive nurturing and love from others, and also give that nurturing and love to others. It is hard to receive when we don't feel worthy of that love. And it is hard to give when we feel a well of emptiness within ourselves. I'm grateful for the understanding that all of my parts are worthy of being fed, and that I can be trusted to access the spiritual, emotional, and physical wells of nurturing that allow me to be able to feed myself. And I've come to know that all of your parts are worthy of being fed, and that you too can learn to trust yourself...that you too can access the spiritual, emotional, and physical wells of nurturing and find the peace of feeding yourself.

​The year was 1990. I found myself in a Japanese hospital, if you could call it that. The doctor lived in one part of the house and saw patients in the other. There, I had my first baby and quickly found out that rarely are things in life the way you think they will be.
 
Rather than the all-natural childbirth I had planned, an emergency C-section left me in shock and pain. I was unprepared for the postpartum depression that visited, and even more unprepared for a baby that never stopped screaming for the first six months of her life. Add that to the unresolved trauma of my past and…well, you can imagine…I was a wreck.
 
We were thrilled to have our beautiful baby girl join our family and she has been a light in our lives. I only wish I had known how to get help during that stressful life transition. In hindsight, I know that I would have been far less stressed, and our baby would have had a far more peaceful childhood, if I had sought emotional help.
 
Perhaps this is on my mind because that same baby girl is about to have a baby of her own. She and her sweet husband are smarter than we were. They are as prepared as a couple can be for the changes that are about to take place. An yet they know that life transitions…no matter how blessed…have a way of shaking things up…of changing our worldview…of changing our view of ourselves. It’s just how transitions go.
 
All throughout life, we are faced with transitions: starting grade school, then the dreaded middle school, high school, and college; dating, choosing partners, building lives together, and eventual loss; watching our bodies change from youthful health to middle-aged aches and pains, to elderly limitations; and a host of other transitions affecting jobs, beliefs, social support, and expectations. It is during these times that we may find ourselves needing more support than usual.
 
One reason I love therapy is that it provides opportunities to help clients better understand the challenges associated with these transitions; the impact they have on us internally, as well as on our relationships; learn skills to successfully adapt to our new realities; and develop coping resources that can help us not only get through these transitions, but actually be transformed for the better because of them.
 
Avoiding stress is not the goal of life; growing through the life stressors we experience is. When we receive the support we need, we are able to see that each transition brings with it hidden blessings, and opportunities to receive more joy and peace than we previously had. I cannot imagine our life without that little girl, or the four more angels that joined our family afterwards. They grew, and I grew. My capacity to love has grown, as has my capacity for patience, forgiveness, humor, and peace. But I have come to know that this kind of growth also comes from other life transitions, such as the death of a loved one, relationship loss, changing of beliefs, jobs, and expectations.
 
I know my daughter and son-in-law’s hearts are about to grow and stretch in ways they never even dreamed of. And I pray that along with all of the sleepless nights; the worrying; the endless picking up of toys, shoes, and homework; they will find the support and perspective needed to allow their very souls to be grow through these transforming transitions.

Becky Ivory, MFTI
White Peaks Therapy
​[email protected]