Masochism: The Dance for Worthiness

Masochism The Dance for Worthiness

I had been “seeing” Abby for about 7 months.  We were getting to know each other as people often do in those early weeks and months of any relationship.  This one being no different, except that it was occurring with in the boundaries of therapy. 

Abby was striking. She was a tall, broad shouldered woman. Her hair was an effortless caramel swirl, save for one streak of Crayola blue tucked on the underside near her left shoulder. The blue streak suggested a rebel soul was somewhere not so far down, but perhaps kept in step by other, more conforming, aspects of her character.

Abby was fit, in the way that said “I-care-but-not-to-the-point-of-neurosis-care.” It was clear that Abby had a life outside the gym.  She was not manufactured or chiseled, but she was sinewy and taught. At 38, she was alluring, but also had an energy about her that was flighty and her movements often struck me as insecure. She moved in jittery, staccato-like gestures. 

As I got to know her over those early months a pattern of stoic suffering emerged that suggested she had a long and intimate relationship with enduring pain.  It whispered of a possible bond between the ability to endure suffering and her experience of connection. To herself and to others. 

She was a classic masochist with all the hallmark features that work in a delicate rhythm, operating as her both her greatest asset and also her most profound vulnerability.  She enjoyed exercising to the point of physical pain.  She worked hard to the point of emotional exhaustion. She would go the extra mile every time it was asked or expected of her.  She went all in all the time, even in matters of love.  And, of course, there was the tell-tale sign of littered relationships in her rear view mirror where she tolerated and withstood emotional abuse and neglect, that would have sent another woman running.  She was the classic case of a woman who could not resist the urge to pursue a “distancer.” 

Abby suffered for sure and as I got to know her we better understood the cadence of her own style of pain. When Abby would relay stories and incidences of how her husband had wronged her she would almost immediately stiffen her face and throw her shoulders back, replying, “which is fine…” Her tone was always pregnant with righteousness, which I felt certain was operating as a cover-up for the more pathological pattern of grievance collecting. Abby would later leverage those grievances as evidence to bolster her case to convince her husband that she was worthy of his love. I’d comment, “Is it? Is it fine?”

Slowly, I encouraged us to listen to her language in a more nuanced way. I invited us to listen for the tone of suffering and accomplishment, which was fused in an elegant dance of seduction.  Abby would say things like, “He’d tell me I was weak if I cried or became emotional and so I learned to calculate my feelings and control them so that he wouldn’t call me crazy or too emotional.”  

Blinking back tears in my office she would sit herself up straight, gesturing with annoyance at her tears.  When she gained composure Abby remarked with sarcasm  “Get it together Abby! I’m overly sensitive…” turning the rigid and abusive dialogue on herself, in the absence of achieving it interpersonally. I highlight that she no longer even needs her husband to inflict the pain; she has mastered the art all by herself.  Abby paused and thought quietly, “Yes, I expect a lot from myself.”  I reflect, “Do you see that there…hear that…there is a tone of accomplishment in that statement, as though you merely have high expectations for yourself.  But in fact, it’s suffering you require in order to feel accomplished and good enough. You expect and perhaps seek out the pain as a way to validate your worthiness.” 

Abby remarked, “I’ve gone through so much with him, so much has gone down in those 8 years, I wanted it to be worthwhile in the end. I had endured so much.” I reflected to her that theirs was a bond fused by suffering, for them the glue that tied them together was the degree of suffering she was willing to endured. 

I highlighted how it must have been burdensome to carry all that hurt and I remarked that it must have felt lonely too. Almost immediately Abby appeared to me as a scared and fragile child. This comment allowed for her loneliness to come full force into the therapy. All of her stoicism was replaced by a childlike fear. A fear that at its core was about worthiness and her deep seeded doubt that she was not “good enough.” I remembered her staccato and jittery quality that I felt in the very beginning of our work together and I recognized that as a fracture in her sense of “worthiness.”

This fracture sent her seeking relationships that would validate her suspicion that she was not good enough, not worthy of love, and/or only worthy if she earned it through the endurance of suffering. This pattern of seeking painful connection(s) was not conscious, but rather unconscious, tucked just beneath her awareness but operating with considerable influence. The ability to out suffer others became fused with a sense of accomplishment and strength, and therefore worthy of love.

The real triumph for the masochist comes from the endurance, and subsequent sense of accomplishment, when they out-wait and out suffer others. This sense of endurance provided Abby with both the punishment for not being good enough (via suffering) and the validation of her worthiness if she could “earn” the affection of her husband.  It also fused her to a pattern of rejection, pain, suffering and hurt. For Abby, in order to register an experience of love and being lovable, she had to suffer. At an emotional level, she needed the suffering in order to experience her own self as worthy. It wasn’t suffering for suffering’s sake; it was the endurance of the suffering that held all the emotional currency for Abby. 

Therapeutically, I started to realize that it was easy to be drawn away from her suffering and turn our attention towards the more emotionally palatable aspect of what she had told herself was strength and loyalty. Indeed, Abby would often unconsciously try to turn the attention away from the suffering and towards her ability to endure the suffering. She had the emotional endurance of a marathoner and she wore this badge as both a decoy and a statement of achievement.  The latter is how masochism, in all its forms, often goes undetected for decades or longer.  It thrives in the shadowy secrecy of stoicism and martyrdom. We miss the worthiness piece because we are seduced by the masochist’s ability to appear graceful and strong under circumstances that would otherwise crush most spirits. 

Abby’s journey is still very much in process, as we all are. But she now has the start of an observational lens through which she can begin to explore her conscious and unconscious motivations.  She has begun to build a new set of emotional muscles in order to better understand the interpersonal dynamics that have historically kept her rotating in an orbit of suffering, emotional endurance and loneliness. Her core worthiness fault line is there of course, but it no longer thrives in the secrecy of shame and self-doubt.  


About the Author: Dr Sarah Sarkis

Sarah is a licensed psychologist living in Honolulu, Hawaii. Originally hailing from Boston Mass, she has a private practice where she works with adults in long-term insight oriented therapy. She works from an existential psychology vantage point where she encourages her patients to “stay present even in the storm.”  She believes herself to be an explorer of the psyche and she will encourage you to be curious about the journey rather than the destination.  She emphasizes collaboration, partnership, and personal empowerment.

She approaches psychological wellness from a holistic and integrative perspective. Her therapeutic style is based on an integrative approach to wellness, where she blends her strong psychodynamic and insight oriented training with more traditionally behavioral and/or mind/body techniques to help clients foster insight, change and growth. She has studied extensively the use of mindfulness, functional medicine, hormones, and how food, medicine and mood are interconnected.  Her influences include Dr.’s Hyman, Benson, Kabat-Zinn and Gordon, as well as Tara Brach, Brene’ Brown, Irvin Yalom and Bruce Springsteen to name only a few.

Please visit her website at DrSarahSarkis.com and check out her blog, The Padded Room

4 Comments

C

Wonder if this is why women go for the bad boys, to be honest, when I first started reading the article the first thing I thought was borderline.

Reply
jacqueline ward

Hi Dr Sarkis,
I was so relieved to read your article on Abbey as I recognise in Abbey alike-mindness to myself. It helped me to identify the personality traits that have dogged me most my life, shaping history before it begins, I am sabotaging my own life! Please I would like to hear strategies that help counteract the way masochism rules over ones life.
Thankyou

Reply
M.M. Ferrante

Dr. Sarkis,
I felt like I was reading a novel! You drew a detailed picture of Abby, the main character, that I could FEEL. And I feel her pain as well. We all to some extent have a tendency to feel unworthy but she had years and layers to dig out of and I can tell from your piece that you’re just the person to assist her on the journey. Keep up the good work and keep writing!

Reply
Debi

Awesome article! Wanted to let you know however, the paragraphs at the beginning have repetitive sentences. Also, several of the paragraphs end with an open sentence. I’m sure it was just an oversight in the copying of the article but wanted to let you know. :).

Reply

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All kids need the 'the right things' to thrive. The right people, the right motivation, the right encouragement. Out in the world, at school, or wherever they find themselves, kids and teens with anxiety don't need any extra support - they just need their share, but in a way that works for them. 

In a world that tends to turn towards the noise, it can be easy for the ones that tend to stand back and observe and think and take it all in, to feel as though they need to be different - but they don't. Kids and teens who are vulnerable to anxiety tend to have a different and wonderful way of looking at the world. They're compassionate, empathic, open-hearted, brave and intelligent. They're exactly the people the world needs. The last thing we want is for them to think they need to be anyone different to who they are.

#parenting #anxietysupport #childanxietyawareness #mindfulparenting #parent #heywarrior #heysigmund
Sometimes silence means 'I don't have anything to say.' Sometimes it means, 'I have plenty to say but I don't want to share it right here and right now.'

We all need certain things to feel safe enough to put ourselves into the world. Kids with anxiety are thoughtful, observant and insightful, and their wisdom will always have the potential to add something important to the world for all of us. Until they have a felt sense of safety though, we won’t see it.

This safety will only happen through relationship. This isn’t a child thing, or an anxiety thing. It’s a human thing. We’re all wired to feel safest when we’re connected to the people around us. For children it starts with the adult in the room.

We can pour all the resources we want into learning support, or behaviour management, but until children have a felt sense of safety and connection with the adult in the room, the ‘thinking brain’ won’t be available. This is the frontal cortex, and it’s the part of the brain needed for learning, deliberate decisions, thinking through consequences, rational thinking. During anxiety, it’s sent offline.

Anxiety is not about what is actually safe, but about what the brain perceives. A child can have the safest, most loving, brilliant teacher, but until there is a felt sense of connection with that teacher (or another adult in the room), anxiety will interrupt learning, behaviour, and their capacity to show the very best of what they can do. And what they can do will often be surprising - insightful, important, beautiful things.

But relationships take time. Safety and trust take time. The teachers who take this time are the ones who will make the world feel safer for these children - all children, and change their world in important, enduring ways. This is when learning will happen. It’s when we’ll stop losing children who fly under the radar, or whose big behaviour takes them out of the classroom, or shifts the focus to the wrong things (behaviour, learning, avoidance, over relationships).

The antidote to anxiety is trust, and the greatest way to support learning and behaviour is with safe, warm, loving relationships. It’s just how it is, and there are no shortcuts.
In uncertain times, one thing that is certain is the profound power of you to help their world feel safe enough. You are everything to them and however scary the world feels, the safety of you will always feel bigger. 

When the world feels fragile, they will look to us for strength. When it feels unpredictable, they will look to us for calm. When they feel small, we can be their big. 

Our children are wired to feel safe when they are connected and close to us. That closeness doesn’t always have to mean physical proximity, but of course that will be their favourite. Our words can build their safe base, “I know this feels scary love, and I know we will be okay.” And our words can become their wings, “I can hear how worried you are, and I know you are brave enough. You were built for this my love. What can you do that would be brave right now?”

We might look for the right things to do or the right things to say to make things better for them, but the truth of it all is the answer has always been you. Your warmth, your validation, your presence, your calm, your courage. You have the greatest power to help them feel big enough. You don’t have to look for it or reach for it - it’s there, in you. Everything you need to help them feel safe enough and brave enough is in you. 

This doesn’t mean never feeling scared ourselves. It’s absolutely okay to feel whatever we feel. What it means is allowing it to be, and adding in what we can. Not getting over it, but adding into it - adding strength, calm, courage. So we feel both - anxious and strong, uncertain and determined, scared and safe ‘enough’. 

When our children see us move through our own anxiety, restlessness, or uncertainty with courage, it opens the way for them to do the same. When our hearts are brave enough and calm enough, our children will catch this, and when they do, their world will feel safe enough and they will feel big enough.
The temptation to lift our kiddos out of the way of anxiety can be spectacular. Here's the rub though - avoidance has a powerful way of teaching them that the only way to feel safe is to avoid. This makes sense, but it can shrink their world. 

We also don't want to go the other way, and meet their anxiety by telling them there's nothing to worry about. They won't believe it anyway. The option is to ride the wave with them. Breathe, be still, and stay in the moment so they can find their way there too. 

This is hard - an anxious brain will haul them into the future and try to buddy them up with plenty of 'what-ifs' - the raging fuel for anxiety. Let them know you get it, that you see them, and that you know they can do this. They won't buy it straight away, and that's okay. The brain learns from experience, so the more they are brave, the more they are brave - and we know they are brave.

 #parenting #positiveparenting #parenthood #parentingtips #childdevelopment #anxietyinchildren #neuronurtured #childanxiety #parentingadvice #heywarrior #anxietysupport #anxietyawareness #mindfulparenting #positiveparentingtips #parentingtip #neurodevelopment
To do this, we will often need to ‘go first’ with calm and courage. This will mean calming our own anxiety enough, so we can lead them towards things that are good for them, rather than supporting their avoidance of things that feel too big, but which are important or meaningful. 

The very thing that makes you a wonderful parent, can also get in the way of moving them through anxiety. As their parent, you were built to feel distress at their distress. This distress works to mobilise you to keep them safe. This is how it’s meant to work. The problem is that sometimes, anxiety can show up in our children when it there is no danger, and no need to protect. 

Of course sometimes there is a very real need to keep our children safe, and to support them in the retreat from danger. Sometimes though, the greatest things we can do for them is support their move towards the things that are important a or meaningful, but which feel too big in the moment. One of the things that makes anxiety so tough to deal with is that it can look the same whether it is in response to a threat, or in response to things that will flourish them. 

When anxiety happens in the absence of threat, it can move us to (over)protect them from the things that will be good for them (but which register as threat). I’ve done it so many times myself. We’re human, and the pull to move our children out of the way of the things that are causing their distress will be seismic. The key is knowing when the anxiety is in response to a real threat (and to hold them back from danger) and when it is in response to something important and meaningful (and to gently support them forward). The good news is that you were built to move towards through both - courage and safety. The key to strengthening them is knowing which one when - and we don’t have to get it right every time.♥️

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