The Dark Side of Putting Yourself Out There

It was the thing that scared me the most about starting this blog: having other people invalidate my emotions by being dismissive, discouraging or outright mean. It held me back from hitting that publish button on so many posts, made me delete countless others others and doubt my own struggles. Until one day I just did it. I posted the link of this blog to my personal Facebook page and “came out” to my family and friends about my battle with infertility.  Many people who were close to me already knew that I’d been battling this for some time, while some people wouldn’t have had a clue until that post.

Largely, I was met with an overwhelming, heart warming amount of support. People I didn’t know had struggled, or were struggling with infertility messaged me their stories and opened up to me about a very vulnerable part of themselves. Friends I already knew in the infertility community sent me messages of support, even thankfulness for stepping out of the shadows to share my struggles. And friends who had never experienced infertility, and didn’t even want to be parents themselves, offered their support. It felt amazing to know that my little blog made a difference to dozens of people I knew, let alone the great big world of strangers out there in internet land.

But it wasn’t all positive.

My “coming out” post made some serious waves, in some places I didn’t expect it to. For some context, I posted Acts of Bravery Aren’t Always Remarkable Feats, on the heels of my brother and sister in law’s pregnancy announcement. Their announcement had hit me hard emotionally (by no fault of their own) but also caused me to take a serious, honest look at my infertility journey, and the fact that if I wanted to be happy, I needed to face some of the scary realities I’d been afraid to confront. That’s the super abbreviated version of that post. I have to be honest, some things were already happening behind the scenes at the time I made my post. My reaction to my sister and brother in law’s pregnancy announcement had caused a rift between me and certain family members and all I was craving was some love and understanding.

I’d hoped that my post would offer some insight into how I was feeling because I was tired of hiding it in bathroom stalls, quiet corners and hovering at the edges of joyful occasions. I didn’t expect it to have the effect that it did. What hurt the most, was putting myself out there, and having a large portion of my family completely ignore it… or worse, instead of stopping to think their actions may have been hurting me, act in passive aggression just veiled enough that if I pointed it out to anyone, would have made me look crazy.

And I started to regret my decision, not because I felt guilty or wrong for posting about my experiences, but because I wasn’t sure I could take the criticism from family members. So one night, when talking to a friend, I floated the idea of taking my blog down. And her very first words when I finished talking were: “Don’t you dare.”

She called out the behaviours I’d recounted to her as gaslighting, a particularly nasty form of manipulation designed to make a person question their own sanity with the further purpose of using the subject’s newfound self doubt against them by making them appear mentally ill or incompetent to a broader audience. I thought that assessment was a little heavy-handed at the time, but was willing to hear her out.

Eventually I couldn’t take tip-toeing around the people pretending that I’d never said anything about my infertility, pretending their actions and words were not meant to be hurtful, and I confronted everyone on their behaviour, and that’s when people really started being honest about not only my blog post, but my reaction to my brother and sister’s pregnancy announcement.

I was told things like:

• I should be happy for my brother and sister in law (I never once said I wasn’t, in fact I made sure I communicated on several occasions that I was)
• That other people had suffered too (therefore implying that I should keep my battle with infertility and my miscarriages to myself, since other people who’d been through the same didn’t seem seem as affected by their own ordeals)
• That the comments and passive aggressive posts made by other members of the family had “nothing to do” with me
• That “family means support” (implying that I was somehow failing in that role and needed to succeed in order to receive any support myself)
  
• That I had made my brother and sister-in-law feel “like shit” for being pregnant
  
• That stress wasn’t good for the baby (and of course the implication that I was causing it)
• To “focus on the right things” including my marriage and career versus my own desire to have a child.
  And finally: That my blog was made with the sole purpose of making my brother and sister in law feel bad about being pregnant.
  

I was also spoken to in a completely patronizing manner, as though I were a mentally unstable person and that the family could all help me “address [my] issues as a family in a loving environment”- this said out of the belief that I was angry at my brother and sister in law for being pregnant- versus simply being hurt at some of their insensitive actions. That was when I realized my friend’s perspective held an alarming ring of truth. And while I still don’t know if I would go as far as to call what some of my family members did “gaslighting”, I did realize something:

Some people will never understand how deeply infertility impacts your life.

I can keep talking, I can can be patient, I can get angry, but no matter what the delivery; sugar-coated, calm, honest, poignant, heated, or outright enraged, people have the capacity to understand, but the will to suppress that ability completely when it requires them to move past a knee jerk, emotional response, or forces them to shift their world view and grow without being quite ready for that growth.

Now, I’m not saying you shouldn’t have some compassion and understanding for your loved ones while they slowly embrace this shift in thinking (and seriously, try the calm, poignant and honest route first), but alongside your compassion, you also need conviction and strength to validate and prioritize your own emotional well-being too. And be ready to fight for it, whether it’s a little corner of the internet to yourself to share your struggles in, or more importantly, the ability to make choices in your own life to be happy.

Which brings me to now.

Sometimes, you’re going to have to stand your ground.

This weekend, I’m heading out to a family gathering where I’m going to see family members I’ve really been looking forward to seeing, but also the ones who have been saying and doing some pretty hurtful things. And I’m putting this out there in the hopes that I will practice what I preach and hold myself accountable to it.

We’re all human, and if you’re facing a similar situation after ‘coming out’ with your infertility struggle, here’s what I’ve learned so far about dealing with less than supportive friends or family members:

1) Love First

My brother and sister in law are delighted to be celebrating their first child. And they deserve to be. My first focus is that they deserve to be happy, and that little baby deserves nothing but joy and love. It is something I make myself circle back to when I find myself getting frustrated or angry. You can be upset with someone, be angry, disagree, but if you keep your love for them in mind at all times, you’re less likely to say or do something you’ll regret later. And whenever I am in a situation where I’m trying to express myself, I always try to start with stating how happy I am for them- and reiterate that point throughout the dialogue so that they always know I care for them.

2) Focus on Observable Behaviour

If you’re going to confront some of the hurt people have caused you, focus on observable behaviour. So, what does that mean? Well, instead of saying “God, why are you such an asshole?!” in frustration, hold back on that purely emotional response and use paired statements of “When you…” and “I feel…”. I know, I know, I sound like a therapist speaking in soft tones, sitting in her perfectly sophisticated greige office, peering at you over her Prada spectacles. Let me shatter that image right now by saying I’m lounging on my couch with my laptop, my cat, a wobbly pop and no pants telling you that this shit works.

These statements work because they let people know the impact of their own actions on another person and feel less like a personal attack. For example, I could say something like:

“When you didn’t respond to my blog post about infertility, I felt unsupported and lonely.”

Notice how I didn’t say “when you ignored my blog post”? That’s because ignoring wasn’t an observable behaviour in this instance. I can’t know I was ignored- maybe someone didn’t know what to say so they waited to show their support in person, maybe they were waiting on finding the right words, maybe they just didn’t see it. At any rate, the statement above allows the opportunity for the opposite party to reflect on their actions, whether intentional or unintentional, and acknowledge the impact of their behaviour, versus being immediately defensive at a statement that could be deemed an attack on their person.

3) Tell people what they need to start, stop and continue doing.

This one, I picked up from corporate training at a job in retail, but it is so incredibly valuable because it is such a good way to get what you want and need from people. The premise is simple. If someone else’s actions are hurting you and you want to mend your relationship, give them a direction to travel in that is forward moving and keeps your relationship in the positive as much as possible. For example, I might say:

“It would really help me if you would start giving me advanced notice about baby-related events so I can be emotionally ready to handle them at the time. It makes me feel happy that you include me in your excitement by inviting me to special events and sharing baby updates on social media and I hope you continue to. But I need you to stop dismissing my struggles with infertility simply because they appear to make you uncomfortable or angry.”

This points to a pattern of behaviour I’d like someone to follow for the betterment of our relationship, and because it doesn’t get too personal, invites them to ask for the same. And sure, the person may go on the defensive-  which is why you can step back to #2- use those paired statements. Ultimately the person you’re talking to can choose to take action or not, but setting the expectation gives your position clarity.

4) Mediate your response

Sometimes for all the love, patience, paired statements and action plans in the world, you just want to tell someone where to stick it- in as many spectacularly creative ways as possible. Sometimes you even fantasize about that moment. Sometimes you actually live it. But I think most people try really hard not to.

I’m one of those people known to have a long fuse and a big bang. Which is why I give myself the opportunity to stamp out any impending sparks at the end of that fuse whenever I can. This could mean physically removing myself from a situation, turning off the computer, or politely stating; “I’m sorry, I need to end this conversation for the time being before I say something I regret.” The point is sometimes you need the break, so don’t be afraid to ask for it, even forcibly take it if you need it. But remember- you need to respect when someone asks for the same.

5) Forgive

This one right here, is the most challenging piece of advice to follow of all. It takes a lot of energy to keep being angry. Carrying a burden like that around with you is like carrying around a heavy purse on a long day out. At first, you can’t let it go, you need it. But after awhile, it is just exhausting to carry around and you can’t wait to put it down so all the aches and pains the weight of it leaves behind, will go away. This is where as hard as it is, forgiveness matters. You don’t have to tell people you’ve forgiven them until they come to you for an apology, you just need to let go of the burden anger brings, and instead carry that readiness to forgive within you. And depending on the hurt, sometimes that can take some time to get to.

One of the wisest pieces of advice I’ve come across, was courtesy of a random tumblr post:

If someone says sorry, never say “that’s okay”. Saying “that’s okay” tells the person who hurt you that they have permission to do it again. However saying “I accept your apology” shows that they are forgiven, but not excused of the bad behaviour that hurt you in the first place and you expect them not to hurt you the same way ever again.

I love this because it rings so true for me, but it’s definitely also a challenge in terms of my own personal growth. I am not the most forgiving person and I know it. Lord knows I try but it takes work to let go of others’ transgressions and trust them again, at least enough to have a rational discussion. And I’m hoping if push comes to shove, I can take my own advice, at least far enough to get to the forgiveness phase- even if I’m not quite ready yet.

So there you have it: the dark side, worst case scenario of putting yourself out there.

And I daresay that even with some major misunderstandings and disappointments, I’m still happy with my choice to put all of my struggles and losses out there. We’ll see how I’m feeling after the weekend, if I manage to take my own advice in dealing with my own family’s issues. But in the mean time, if you have any last minute pointers I may have missed, or have your own less than ideal “coming out” story to share, feel free to leave it in the comments.