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Echobabes earlier post about what her daughter said when visiting got me

thinking about the gifts of being raised by a BPD parent. I love the line at the

end of that movie/book Eat, Pray, Love. The one about " the physics of the quest "

and that " everyone and everything is a teacher on our journey " . I sometimes

think that I got put into a crash course in this lifetime. These are a few

things I have learned from being raised by a BPD.

That I would rather figure out how to do things myself than make the lives of

everyone around me miserable with inncessant demands. In the quest for that, I

have learned that I am quite handy and that I enjoy that aspect of my

personality. Being " self-sufficient " is something that I take pride in. I never

had screaming fits at my husband about doing stuff. I remember one of the first

times I just couldn't stand it anymore and picked up a screwdriver and tightened

the handles on all of the saute pots in my nada's kitchen. She was ranting at my

father about doing this and he, as usual, in the face of her rages retreated to

his workshop to avoid her. I just remember thinking... " what the hell is so damn

hard about picking up a screwdriver and doing it yourself and saving all that

drama and aggravation? " At some later point, I realized that nada felt that

picking up tools wasn't her " job " and that was a husbands job and he was going

to do it " or else! " I am fairly certain that is when my desire to learn how to

fix/maintain things myself began.

It was a good thing too. My darling husband wasn't very handy and he was also

deathly afraid of spiders and hated getting his hands grimey. I was the one that

changed out the battery on his car last time it went out. I was also the one

that climbed down into the crawl space to change out the furnace filter when it

needed to be done. (lots of spidies down there!) He did try, and I loved him for

that.

C

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Good for you for being willing to learn new things and be stretched.

Yeah, I saw how you described your nada (demanding and clawing at your father to

do things that he was " supposed " to do) in my nada as well.

It's funny you mention the fixing of the pot handles. A bunch of years ago, I

did the same thing, I thought " why am I waiting for husband to do this?? I

could just try for myself! " And it felt so good to handle it on my own.

>

> Echobabes earlier post about what her daughter said when visiting got me

thinking about the gifts of being raised by a BPD parent. I love the line at the

end of that movie/book Eat, Pray, Love. The one about " the physics of the quest "

and that " everyone and everything is a teacher on our journey " . I sometimes

think that I got put into a crash course in this lifetime. These are a few

things I have learned from being raised by a BPD.

>

> That I would rather figure out how to do things myself than make the lives of

everyone around me miserable with inncessant demands. In the quest for that, I

have learned that I am quite handy and that I enjoy that aspect of my

personality. Being " self-sufficient " is something that I take pride in. I never

had screaming fits at my husband about doing stuff. I remember one of the first

times I just couldn't stand it anymore and picked up a screwdriver and tightened

the handles on all of the saute pots in my nada's kitchen. She was ranting at my

father about doing this and he, as usual, in the face of her rages retreated to

his workshop to avoid her. I just remember thinking... " what the hell is so damn

hard about picking up a screwdriver and doing it yourself and saving all that

drama and aggravation? " At some later point, I realized that nada felt that

picking up tools wasn't her " job " and that was a husbands job and he was going

to do it " or else! " I am fairly certain that is when my desire to learn how to

fix/maintain things myself began.

>

> It was a good thing too. My darling husband wasn't very handy and he was also

deathly afraid of spiders and hated getting his hands grimey. I was the one that

changed out the battery on his car last time it went out. I was also the one

that climbed down into the crawl space to change out the furnace filter when it

needed to be done. (lots of spidies down there!) He did try, and I loved him for

that.

>

> C

>

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Fiona,

Darling Husband and I had a real reversal of roles going on thru our entire

marriage. He cooked, he was pretty good at it too. He even did laundry, tho I

had to sort for stains ahead of him so things wouldn't get permanently set in. I

addition to all that, he was a straightener. Liked things tidy, but cracked me

up because he would leave a hand towel in the bathroom or the kitchen until it

smelled like sour milk and was stiff from dirt. EEEEeeww. About the only " guy "

thing that he did was take out the trash and mow the yard. Of course if the

mower was acting up or flooded, I stepped in. I've had a number of

teacher/mentors over the years too and I learned a lot about cars and plumbing.

My thought has always been, how hard can this be if I am patient?

nada of course thinks I am foolish and that a " man " should do these things and

that I am not much of a woman if I can't manipulate some sap into doing it all

for me! One of the few accomplishments i've had is convincing her, finally, that

I enjoy doing this stuff and I am okay with that. She is amazed at some of the

things that I have done on my own, but I am sure there is that part of her that

thinks someone else should be doing it and not me.

C

> >

> > Echobabes earlier post about what her daughter said when visiting got me

thinking about the gifts of being raised by a BPD parent. I love the line at the

end of that movie/book Eat, Pray, Love. The one about " the physics of the quest "

and that " everyone and everything is a teacher on our journey " . I sometimes

think that I got put into a crash course in this lifetime. These are a few

things I have learned from being raised by a BPD.

> >

> > That I would rather figure out how to do things myself than make the lives

of everyone around me miserable with inncessant demands. In the quest for that,

I have learned that I am quite handy and that I enjoy that aspect of my

personality. Being " self-sufficient " is something that I take pride in. I never

had screaming fits at my husband about doing stuff. I remember one of the first

times I just couldn't stand it anymore and picked up a screwdriver and tightened

the handles on all of the saute pots in my nada's kitchen. She was ranting at my

father about doing this and he, as usual, in the face of her rages retreated to

his workshop to avoid her. I just remember thinking... " what the hell is so damn

hard about picking up a screwdriver and doing it yourself and saving all that

drama and aggravation? " At some later point, I realized that nada felt that

picking up tools wasn't her " job " and that was a husbands job and he was going

to do it " or else! " I am fairly certain that is when my desire to learn how to

fix/maintain things myself began.

> >

> > It was a good thing too. My darling husband wasn't very handy and he was

also deathly afraid of spiders and hated getting his hands grimey. I was the one

that changed out the battery on his car last time it went out. I was also the

one that climbed down into the crawl space to change out the furnace filter when

it needed to be done. (lots of spidies down there!) He did try, and I loved him

for that.

> >

> > C

> >

>

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Well, as fate would have it, I had two PD parents. The gift that I came out

with is an uncanny ability to " read " body language and facial expressions. I

know what people are feeling even when they do not and I can almost always tell

when someone is lying. It is pretty handy.

HC

>

> Echobabes earlier post about what her daughter said when visiting got me

thinking about the gifts of being raised by a BPD parent. I love the line at the

end of that movie/book Eat, Pray, Love. The one about " the physics of the quest "

and that " everyone and everything is a teacher on our journey " . I sometimes

think that I got put into a crash course in this lifetime. These are a few

things I have learned from being raised by a BPD.

>

> That I would rather figure out how to do things myself than make the lives of

everyone around me miserable with inncessant demands. In the quest for that, I

have learned that I am quite handy and that I enjoy that aspect of my

personality. Being " self-sufficient " is something that I take pride in. I never

had screaming fits at my husband about doing stuff. I remember one of the first

times I just couldn't stand it anymore and picked up a screwdriver and tightened

the handles on all of the saute pots in my nada's kitchen. She was ranting at my

father about doing this and he, as usual, in the face of her rages retreated to

his workshop to avoid her. I just remember thinking... " what the hell is so damn

hard about picking up a screwdriver and doing it yourself and saving all that

drama and aggravation? " At some later point, I realized that nada felt that

picking up tools wasn't her " job " and that was a husbands job and he was going

to do it " or else! " I am fairly certain that is when my desire to learn how to

fix/maintain things myself began.

>

> It was a good thing too. My darling husband wasn't very handy and he was also

deathly afraid of spiders and hated getting his hands grimey. I was the one that

changed out the battery on his car last time it went out. I was also the one

that climbed down into the crawl space to change out the furnace filter when it

needed to be done. (lots of spidies down there!) He did try, and I loved him for

that.

>

> C

>

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HC

you should work in an organization like that show called " Lie to Me " That is a

handy skill to have. Do you find you have any " blind spots " I am pretty good

too, but I find if I am too close to a situation that I am not always as

objective. Personal feelings get in the way.

C

>

> Well, as fate would have it, I had two PD parents. The gift that I came out

with is an uncanny ability to " read " body language and facial expressions. I

know what people are feeling even when they do not and I can almost always tell

when someone is lying. It is pretty handy.

>

> HC

>

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My one big blind spot is that I am so drawn to try to save waify women. I'm

getting a little better at not getting sucked in, but that is a tough one for

me. It is like a gravitational pull.

HC

> >

> > Well, as fate would have it, I had two PD parents. The gift that I came out

with is an uncanny ability to " read " body language and facial expressions. I

know what people are feeling even when they do not and I can almost always tell

when someone is lying. It is pretty handy.

> >

> > HC

> >

>

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I'm curious to know if any other of you KO's are drawn to rescue waify women?

You know how some people bring home stray cats? Historically, I have brought

home wounded women.

Anyone else so inclined?

HC

> > >

> > > Well, as fate would have it, I had two PD parents. The gift that I came

out with is an uncanny ability to " read " body language and facial expressions.

I know what people are feeling even when they do not and I can almost always

tell when someone is lying. It is pretty handy.

> > >

> > > HC

> > >

> >

>

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With me it's more that the magnetic attraction seems to be with women that need

a " stabilizer " type friend. When I am around them I become very calm, stable,

practical and need-free - probably how I act with my mother most of the time.

That is who I can be but not really who I am if I'm really free to be myself.

These women are impractical, emotional, entitled and have awful judgment. So

not quite the " waif " type like you describe but a related pattern

nonetheless...and a tough one for me to break. I still attract and am

attracted to them but I figure out to back away much sooner. Heartful, I bet

your radar is pretty fine tuned by now too.

Eliza

Oh btw thank you much for the book list from a few days ago! I'm not on the

board as consistently these days...tough to keep up.

> > > >

> > > > Well, as fate would have it, I had two PD parents. The gift that I came

out with is an uncanny ability to " read " body language and facial expressions.

I know what people are feeling even when they do not and I can almost always

tell when someone is lying. It is pretty handy.

> > > >

> > > > HC

> > > >

> > >

> >

>

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