Eventually we all have to accept full and total responsibility for our actions, everything we have done, and have not done.
Hubert Selby, Jr.
Taking full responsibility for ourselves is an awesome decision, as well as a humble one. It means growing up in the best sense of the phrase. It means no longer laying the blame on someone else for anything that happens in our lives. It means relishing the moments of peace that come with accepting who we were, and knowing that who we are becoming is still in the developmental stage. The good news about this is as long as we remain in a “state of becoming,” we can attain a level of growth. We want to comfortably embrace who we are at every stage; because we continue to grow, we get to embrace ourselves again and again.
We must acknowledge, and this is terribly important, that we hold total responsibility for our failure to take action that might have been beneficial to ourselves or others in days gone by. Even though we ducked the responsibility on many occasions, whatever we were faced with was ours to handle.
It is profoundly empowering to accept responsibility for ourselves, as we are taught to do in our recovery rooms, down to the tiniest of life's details. It feels really good; it sustains us; it prepares us to be even more responsible. We build character each time we choose not to shirk our duty, not to step behind someone else in line when volunteers are needed for the work that benefits humankind. Every time we say yes to a request for help, we are learning the value of taking responsibility.
Offering to be helpful at the right moments, while not stepping in where others need to be in charge, is just one of the many responsible actions we can take.
In days long gone, seldom did we say yes in an effort to truly be helpful. If we said yes, it was quite often manipulative, born out of a desire for control, and thus corrosive. That's the kind of training many of us had in our family of origin. We learned our lessons well, but fortunately we no longer live in the past. We arise each day with the knowledge that we can make the day a good one for ourselves, and quite possibly others. Taking responsibility for that which is ours is the launching pad we need to fully embrace the person we are crying out to be.
We need not worry about being overly responsible—not this early in the game. Just becoming willing to pick up the load that wears our name is all that's expected. Fortunately, just being alive means we will be faced with these opportunities multiple times a day. Being born into families that are ravaged by dysfunction sends many confusing signals about responsibility, what it entails, how to accept it, and how to give it to others when it is clearly not ours to take.
I certainly grew up in the midst of confusion about who was to blame for the disharmony in our home. My mother's sullenness, often to the point of bitterness, was her attempt to punish my dad, I think, for his constant tone of belittlement or outright rage. Both she and my younger brother were generally on the receiving end of the rage. And Dad certainly never took responsibility for his anger. It was always because one of us had failed to do something, or anything at all, right. Trying to stay under the radar of his rage simply wasn't possible. He shot from the hip, and one of us was always the target.
Observing the many times others fail to take responsibility, when they are clearly responsible, offers us many helpful lessons.
Many of those I interviewed had learned when and how to accept responsibility. Those who were still prone to moving in too readily to take charge were working on standing back, taking a thoughtful pause before acting, and allowing others to pick up the task if it was theirs to pick up. Being overly responsible becomes easy, I think, because it makes us look busy and feel good—worthy of the affection of others. This is an insidious self-assessment bestowed on us in our very misguided families.
It was a pleasure to observe and talk with many who were changing this family dynamic for themselves, and in the families they were raising. Recovery fosters an incredible ability to break the mold. Nearly every one of us has inhabited moments of being overly responsible on the one hand or shirking our responsibility on the other, and we can break out of both extremes.
I got great joy from talking with William about responsibility. As you recall, he was raised in a cold, detached Scandinavian family where he observed very unemotional over-responsibility as an ordinary, everyday trait. That, of course, taught him to model the same behavior. However, when he matured, his overly responsible behavior became overly controlling, which he carried into his first marriage and unfortunately, into the second one. Being overly controlling is never well received, not even by those individuals who shirk their own responsibility at every opportunity.
It's not always easy to tell the difference between being controlling and taking a bit too much responsibility.
We have to be willing to check our motives, constantly, to assess what our actions really mean. Are we stepping up to the plate to look good, to make sure things go our way, or because it's really our turn to step up? In William's case, he stepped up because he wanted everything to line up with his expectations, and when one's marriage partner is a practicing alcoholic, you can kiss your expectations goodbye.
William despaired at how day after day unfolded, and this brought him into Al-Anon. The best thing about his demeanor when he came was that he was exhausted, truly spent. He had tried everything he could think of, and had been defeated again and again. Even though it was the last thing he wanted to do, he had effectively recreated his family of origin. All warmth toward his wife had left him. Fortunately he still loved his boys very much, but he simply wanted his wife to get with the program. His cold judgment mirrored that of his only family of origin. He tried controlling the situation, insisting his wife be more responsible, but this didn't produce the results he wanted.
We can never force responsibility onto another person. We can only be willing to volunteer ourselves.
William was a steady student, however. Attending seven to ten meetings a week made him capable of practicing the suggestions the program offered very quickly. He absorbed the idea, perhaps by osmosis through near constant exposure, that being overly responsible as a parent and husband wasn't going to change the circumstances of his wife's drinking. She would have to be responsible for that choice herself. He had to let go of everything he had learned in his family of origin about being responsible, what it meant, and how far one had to take it. Only then could real growth, lasting growth, be triggered in his family. Little by little, day after day, he practiced his new behaviors: “stepping aside,” rather than constantly suggesting what others should do; letting go of outcomes rather than pouting over how things developed; giving his wife the freedom to drink or not. In near record time, changes began to happen at home. We can never be certain they will last. That's the hard part—but we can only be certain that our own behavior is held in check. We remain responsible for ourselves. Period.
Patty demonstrated incredible clarity about who was and wasn't responsible for whatever happened. The dysfunction in her family of origin was no greater or less than that in any other family I was introduced to; however, her willingness to change how she saw her family members, and then herself, was attained at record speed. She hated how she felt every day when she awoke. She was tired out by the previous day's attempts to control, to be responsible in areas that were clearly none of her business.
By the time she came to the rooms of recovery, she was exhausted. Not unlike so many of us, her dedication to controlling everything didn't allow for many rest-filled days or nights. And because she had alcoholics all around her, she felt driven to control what was never controllable. Assuming responsibility for the actions or inactions of others was second nature to her. But of course she was never appreciated for all she did for her family.
Doing for others what they must do themselves is never really appreciated. We do what we must do for ourselves.
Patty brought humor to the rooms. She shared great stories about her own failed boundaries and her overzealous attempts to be responsible for the finer details of the many lives she encountered daily. She could laugh at herself for behavior so unbecoming to one who was letting go. But she just couldn't get the hang of letting her sister and her children be responsible for themselves. Without her help she felt they'd not survive, for sure. Sadly, her sister didn't survive. But because Patty had the rooms for support, she continued to grow and help the rest of us grow, even through this deeply painful experience. Through her experiences, she showed us the stark differences between one's own personal responsibility and someone else's responsibility. With her children, her son in particular, she practiced this lesson well.
As she is wont to say, what he does is his business. She never asks. She never offers. She only listens and takes charge of what is hers to be in charge of. Hearing her say she has no idea if he is sober and clean, nor does she care, is a great lesson for everyone to hear. Her response is always, “I love him. Period. Sober and clean or not.” Patty has learned what her responsibilities are, and what they are not. And she has no trouble sticking with her own.
What's good about this is that we get to see someone be happy in spite of the behavior of loved ones. We get to see the joy in backing away from taking on someone else's responsibilities. And we get to see the joy Patty expresses in fulfilling what is her responsibility, part of which is to love her son regardless of his choices.
Accepting responsibility where appropriate, and not taking it on where inappropriate, is evidence of good boundaries, good balance, and emotional maturity.
Not every one advances as quickly in this particular arena. Valerie would probably agree that she finds letting others be wholly responsible for themselves hard to do. From the many hours of interviewing I had with her, I'd guess this is because her mother lived so irresponsibly for all the years Valerie was growing up. Except for the help she received from her grandparents, Valerie nearly raised herself. She did the chores around the house that were clearly her mother's to do. Not only did she take on the chores, she denied that she had done so. She didn't want to be removed from her home, so she got in the habit of protecting her mother. She was well aware of the power an authority might wield over the home situation.
Learning to be overly responsible has an upside, of course. It generally makes a person a great employee, a great neighbor, and a great friend, as long as too much responsibility doesn't take on the form of control. It also makes a person appreciative of others who do their share. But being overly responsible isn't what we should ever strive for. Instead, seeking a balanced view of how life should look, and then doing your part to make it so, is the goal. It's what leads to good relationships, happy families, comfortable work environments, and peaceful neighborhoods. Doing enough but not too much is the goal. And it's attainable.
Valerie has had to learn, with the help of the fellowship, how to let her mother and others take responsibility for themselves. Both sides of this equation—accepting our own responsibility and relinquishing others'—are so important to anyone wanting to function peacefully in their environment. And most of us in any kind of twelve-step program are seeking this kind of peace. If we stick around for “the miracle,” as it's referred to, we will find it too. I have found it, but I know that maintaining it requires a continuing commitment to the suggestions the program offers.
I would say that Helene has found peace too. As was established when I shared aspects of her story earlier, she was a star when it came to acting out in her very dysfunctional family of origin. Being one of a dozen kids made acting out an understandable choice. But it also meant that she could easily slide under the radar screen. Too many to care for makes it difficult to care for any one child in the way he or she may need it. Her irresponsibility as a youth offers a great contrast to how very responsible she became, early in her recovery. Living in the program well affords the benefit of learning to be responsible when the circumstances call for it.
There is a fine line between being responsible and being overly responsible for the lives of others. It's an important line, however, and one that deserves constant adherence.
But there is much more than this to be said for Helene. One of the traits she has to fight against, even after many years on the recovery path, is not taking over the responsibilities of others. It's common to become overly responsible when you are the product of a dysfunctional family. Perhaps you are trying to make up for all the injury done to your family in the acting out stage. Or maybe it's simply a natural inclination when you discover how very freeing it is to be responsible for yourself. Whatever the case may be, Helene can be accused of caring too much about the behavior of others—for trying to change them when it really isn't her business to do so. There are worse things than caring too much, however. And Helene has a kind heart and a willingness to help. The universe can always use more of both.
Showing up in a responsible way in the lives of our friends, our families, and our colleagues is borne out of surviving an irresponsible family system. Responsibility is a trait, like the many others discussed throughout this book, that offers hope to any person who is still suffering in the bowels of the dysfunctional family. For sure we are affected by those childhood experiences, but we are not imprisoned for all time. There is a way out.
Before moving on to the final boost we can claim from surviving these families, let's review. We have had many examples of what responsibility looks like, how to attain it, and how to sustain it.
Offering to be helpful at the right moments, while not stepping in where others need to be in charge, is just one of the many responsible actions we can take.
Observing the many times others fail to take responsibility when they are clearly responsible offers us many helpful lessons.
It's not always easy to tell the difference between being controlling and taking a bit too much responsibility.
We can never force responsibility on to another person. We can only be willing to volunteer ourselves.
Doing for others what they must do themselves is never really appreciated. We do what we must do for ourselves.
Accepting responsibility where appropriate, and not taking it on where inappropriate, is evidence of good boundaries, good balance, and emotional maturity.
There is a fine line between being responsible and being overly responsible for the lives of others. It's an important line, however, and one that deserves constant adherence.
Being responsible for ourselves in every respect—attitude, opinion, actions, and feelings—feels good. Respecting the demarcation separating us from others feels good too. Our desire to be kind can fool us into thinking we should do for others what is theirs to do. We need to be mindful every minute that personal responsibility is just that: personal.