I made things more difficult than they had to be. I was so wrong for invalidating the emotional experience of another. I see it so clearly now. It could've been so easy to just be there. I thought I had to protect myself from something, and I was only protecting myself from confronting the fears underneath. I wasn't mature enough to handle her emotions and mine, and the solution I had for my emotions was to cast them aside. I started doing the deep work of why I behave this way, and why I would think it to be acceptable when it clearly is not because of the effect it has on another. I cannot blame the victim for getting hurt when I do something hurtful, whether intentional or not. I think that's where it got lost for me. I would certainly understand if I hurt someone, and I also saw the hurt. Where I believe I faltered was when I didn't see how something could be hurtful. I also belittled and demeaned the thought that my words could be hurtful. I did that unintentionally, but I see how it had the invalidating effect. It wasn't meant to that way when I said it, but I definitely understand how it could be hurtful, and I am sorry I caused that hurt. What did it feel like? Was there a memory associated with the feeling?

I would be reactive and shut down.

Make someone else wrong for their emotions. "Why is there always a problem?" or "Why are you so emotional?" I would make it about her instead of about the experience. I could have asked what I could do to help. I could have gently explained to her that I was worried. I didn't know how to say it. I was so worried about her, and I made up in my head that I couldn't talk to her about it. I noticed the things around the house weren't getting done. I noticed she wasn't getting dressed. I noticed she wasn't eating.

This is the mad wife. I'm making my way through the book, and I can't help but think this is how she may have felt. The trapped feeling, the alone feeling, the tired feeling, the unappreciated feeling, the unloved feeling. The lady in the book is quite observant of the events and her thoughts on them. I would say that I completely understand how this lady feels. I would be driven mad, and the oven doesn't sound too bad when life looks like the 50s wife. There's the divorce route, and, apparently, there's the lobotomy route!!!? I am unsure about how that lobotomy thing. I am firmly against it, and I can't believe Henry would even think to give Lulu a lobotomy. Why don't they talk?? Why doesn't he know her dreams and desires? Why did he just make some guess that a dishwasher was what she needed? That one just kills me. I wanted to smack that guy through the book for being dumb. Then, I thought I should smack myself for being dumb, and I decided there would be no smacking, no violence.

I made the mistake of trying to convince her that everything was okay and pointed out all the good stuff and said she didn't have any problems. That was a huge mistake, and I was entirely wrong, and I am absolutely resolving to listen, because she was explaining the problem to me, and I told her there was no problem. However well intentioned I was, I dismissed her emotional experience, I tried to mask the sadness, the same way I did that to myself, and both my parents do it to me, and I am eternally sorry for that. She didn't need to be reminded of the good stuff and snapped out of it; she needed to be seen and validated for who she is. She must be (and currently is) safe to express her feelings without the fear of me telling her that's not real. I see it. Not much more to question on that.

When I did this every time the emotions came up, she became afraid to express those emotions, she got in her head and wouldn't come out because it wasn't safe. She just didn't show the emotions, and she hid herself away. When I would try to cheer her up, I wouldn't acknowledge where she was, I would just try to push her into the happy state. I used this technique on myself, and I was okay; so the thought goes. That does not make it correct. Just because I went through it and I've been gaslit by my parents into believing they were good loving parents and just because I didn't go without food then they were good parents. That does not make a good parent. There are many kids that have less than I did, but they had loving parents who cared for them in their times of need. I had parents that weren't there and defended their actions because they had to work to provide and they would be mad at me if I was needy because they needed to go to work and provide for the family. I couldn't work and it was up to me to figure my stuff out. The fridge had food, and I had to make it work.

I think back to when I was a child, and I can't remember anyone being there for me. I was sad and crying about a few things as a child, and I can't remember anyone ever being there with me.

I now see that I love this woman more deeply than I have felt that feeling before. I am extremely saddened that I was the cause of her hurt. I didn't allow her to be herself, and she lost herself. I see clearly now how I was the reason she lost the bubbles. The thing that I labeled weakness and wouldn't support, that is the very thing that makes her who she is. I smothered that light.

I don't do those invalidating things anymore. As we've discussed many, many times. I treated myself a certain way, and I punished myself and others for acting in any way contrary. I would not allow you to be yourself because it forced me to look at the pain in my past, my wounds. I'll say quickly that these are generalized statements, and I wasn't always like this. I got worse toward the end. I stopped treating you like the person I liked and loved. I started treating you like a burden. Your emotions became more and more triggering for me, and the frequency increased, until that breaking point. I cannot justify my actions when I walked out, and I have no excuse. I have an apology, some context, and a genuine desire to repair and connect.