I upset someone recently. Or more accurately, I became the trigger of someone’s hurt feelings. Or most accurately, someone got upset while I was speaking.
I was in a personal development group, which I originally signed up for the purpose of observing how authentically I can behave in a group. I picked such a group for its (at least perceived) sensitivity, confidentiality, and psychodynamic awareness.
However, what I discovered was that whilst it offered value in some level of self-expression, as soon as I behaved more authentically, things got difficult. In such a group, it is much easier to be vulnerable in a conventional way, such as crying, than to express more powerful feelings like anger.
I cried many times in the group, speaking about various painful experiences. I feel safe crying because I know that tears generally (though not always) invites empathy and softness from people. The real challenge for me, however, was to speak candidly even though my words may trigger uncomfortable feelings in others.
I tried this on a few occasions with the group. Partly glad and partly disappointed, I did not trigger intense reactions until nearly the end of the group. It happened on a day when I was not feeling the best, nor was I up for an in-depth discussion. So when Anna (made-up name) said she was very upset by what I said the previous week, I thought ‘Oh not this again.’ But she clearly needed some closure, so I gave her my attention. She said she was made to feel like she did something wrong in the last meeting and was very upset by my ‘delight’ in her tears (I was expressing my feeling of gladness in seeing authentic emotions from her, because that typically leads to good personal development work). Eventually, I settled on saying ‘I’m sorry for not being able to express myself in a way that made you feel safe, but I can only take responsibility for my part of the interaction.’ So that we could move on, as we were pre-warned to leave 30 minutes for the group farewell.
I apologised, but did I mean it?
I left the group that day with some unease, arising from the uncertainty as to whether I did myself justice. I felt accused, blamed, and pressured to admit some sort of wrongdoing when there was none. I felt the group facilitator’s protectiveness towards Anna who was showing clearer signs of fragility. Yet the person demonstrating more toughness (me on this occasion) is typically left to defend themselves, regardless of fairness. That is one thing I do not like about groups. Freedom of expression is largely limited to the psychodynamic awareness of the member(s) in the authoritative position. Plus, these personal development groups often turn into an emotional support group instead that encourages snowflake-ness and promotes political correctness at the expense of individual authenticity. It takes strength to be vulnerable in a group, until vulnerability becomes manipulative.
The key of my uneasy feeling rests on whether I said sorry out of strength or weakness. (Or perhaps more as a strategic move to get out of an uncomfortable situation.) I am going to break it down and rate myself on the following accounts, in order to process the event:
- Volition: I took the least objectionable action. I didn’t think that conversation was necessary at all because immediately after the previous meeting when Anna got upset, I already offered an olive branch, i.e., a hug, which was met with refusal. So for me, it was already resolved. I gave her an opportunity to be empowered by rejecting me, and she took it. The truth was I didn’t have enough time and energy (nor did I feel the need) to assess the situation fully in order to conclude on a response which I satisfied me the most. So, I went with what felt most effective (and reasonably acceptable) in the moment to stop the conversation from continuing. (7/10)
- Strength: Even though I was innocent, I felt accused and blamed. Nevertheless, I repeated what I already said immediately when the supposed upset occurred, i.e., that I felt sorry for not being able to make her feel safe. I demonstrated my capacity for empathy, self-awareness, and dynamic understanding. I felt self-assured enough to acknowledge my part in an interaction that resulted in someone’s hurt feelings, without being paralysed by guilt and shame or doubting my fundamental goodness as a person. Meanwhile, I honoured my own integrity by stating the boundary of my acknowledgement, i.e., I did not accept full responsibility for Anna’s feelings. One can only acknowledge their contribution towards an outcome, but can never be responsible for another’s feelings. Finally, I was empathic and kind enough not to counterattack Anna or state the truth in a harsh way, despite some strong temptation to do so. (9/10)
- Weakness: Part of me regrets saying sorry at all. Not necessarily because of the apology itself, but because of the pressure I felt in the environment. The accusation. The blame. The non-verbal suggestions that I did something wrong. I felt manipulated and backed into a corner. A corner for monstrous offenders who make innocent little girls cry. This triggered my defensive response and made it difficult to assess the situation calmly in the moment. The tough part of me really wanted to say “Anna, stop being such a victim and grow a f**king pair!” (Ah, now I feel better.) But that would probably have invited a lot of attacks which I didn’t want to deal with. We all can be hyper-sensitive to certain things, but some (most?) maintain their ‘victim’ position by blaming others for how they feel, whereas some learn to take responsibility for their own reactions. When confronted by someone in the ‘blaming’ mode, it takes a lot of strength to find your balance, especially if, like me, you were guilt-tripped a lot growing up. I believe that my motivation for apologising to Anna arose from a mixture of kindness, empathy, professionalism, and self-preservation. It indicated my regret for being involved in one upsetting situation and enabled me to get out of another. As a great mentor once told me, “I don’t apologise for their sake. I do it for my own.” Though next time I would like to ensure I feel pressure-free before responding to accusations, especially those thrown around by snowflakes. (2.5/10)
p.s. Ricky says it best:
Wait, are you my mother?
Transference is everywhere. (If you are not familiar with transference as a concept, this might help.)
On reflection, perhaps I did not need to use ‘sorry’ to acknowledge my sense of regret, because it can be confused with admission of guilt, which was not my intention. Also, it is possible that Anna was not asking for an apology. She never stated what she needed exactly, and I did not ask her. I said sorry mainly to manage my own discomfort.
My level of discomfort must have been quite severe for me to do something before I was sure that it was authentic to me. What was it about the environment at the time that triggered such discomfort? I have to look to my childhood conditioning for the answer.
Anna’s way of accusation (plus the group facilitator’s protectiveness towards her) reminded me every bit of my mother, who has struggled her whole life with asking for what she needs. When you do not know how to ask for what you need directly, you find ways to ask for it indirectly. Otherwise known as ‘manipulation.’ When Anna took my word ‘delight’ out of context and presented it in front of the group as justification for her accusation, it really hit a familiar spot inside me. I had an inner jolt and pretty much froze at that moment. Suddenly I was my 5-year-old self being scolded for crying too loud in public, my 12-year-old self being told off for laughing at a dirty joke I wasn’t supposed to have understood, and my 16-year-old self being blamed for hiding the fact that I had a boyfriend. All innocent and natural behaviours but I accepted that I was ‘guilty’ because I did not know any better. I believed wholeheartedly that mother knew best. Who was I to argue with her standard of right and wrong?
Like Rapunzel, I also ‘loved’ my mother:
Those early years’ relational dynamics were such intense lessons as to how I ‘should’ relate to others. They were intense because they evoked strong emotions (mostly guilt and shame) in me as a child. We all know how effective those feelings are at keeping human behaviours under control. This clip from The Big Bang Theory presents perfectly how it works:
The trouble is, although this way of child-rearing may produce a socially well-behaved child, it is at the cost of his or her psychological wellbeing. Now 38 years later, I was still here feeling guilty for my innocent behaviours, merely because of a relative stranger’s hyper-sensitivity. Looking back, a crying young woman, an authority figure (the facilitator) supporting her, and a group of people watching who are likely to feel protective towards the obviously vulnerable. That is very much like my original family environment, where I learnt to feel guilty every time ‘I’ upset mother or did something mother disapproved of. That guilty feeling was so strong that I did something undermining to myself just to get out of the discomfort. Now I have to deal with the regret and anger as a result of being unfairly treated. More injustice!
Lessons learned:
- No matter what, one must prioritise honouring oneself.
- Be hyper-vigilant about guilt-tripping. (Another article coming up!)
Conclusion: good work to me and Anna!
Well, Anna, if you haven’t already, one day you may realise how lucky you were to have me working opposite you on that occasion. My mentor in psychotherapy used to work exceptionally well with his clients’ feelings of anger and being offended. This is extremely empowering work, which very few therapists are capable of. Having learnt from him, how I allowed you to address your grievances to me was exceptionally good therapeutic work. I think you likely picked up on my strength in this, which was why, for the first time in this 10-week group, you were able to speak some truths about yourself. That was exactly what I was ‘delighted’ to have evoked in you. It was part of my own development as a psychodynamic coach. So I am pleased with how my capability to do this challenging type of work has developed and demonstrated itself in our interaction. I thank you for being part of it. Meanwhile, well done to you on finally asserting yourself and expressing your true feelings. As the saying goes, better late than never!
Until we meet again 😉
E x
Ellen Tang Coaching 