Untangling unhappy endings

Holiday hairballs abound this time of year. Some relationships have ended. As we reflect back, we realize that some stopped abruptly and some were never completed. Why do we split off, instead of mending these split ends?

I hear it all the time: “Hey, I’m done with that person.” People tell stories about at least one family member or friend we don’t speak to anymore. Other people are breaking up or splitting off from long-term relationships of many years. What’s up with that?

And sometimes it’s the ones we least expect who disappear and the people we don’t predict who stick.

Why end relationships instead of healing them? Why can’t we get our hairballs out and get along again? Why stop trying? Why not talk it through? So often it’s the things left unsaid that sever relationships. But, most of us just blame it on “the other guy,” and walk away.

Hardball instead of hairballs? Why is it so difficult to talk about our troubles together? Are we afraid of conflict, of not being heard, of being criticized, shamed, abandoned, or rejected? Do we avoid the feelings that difficult relationships trigger our own grief, anger, judgments, unresolved self-loathing, guilt or confusion? Is it the easy way out?

I believe that if both people own part of the problem, relationships can be repaired. But, I also know that sometimes I feel too unsafe and it takes tremendous skill, hard work (and often a third party) to try again. So, I set a boundary and say, “pick your battles.”

The other day, I ran into a friend, in shock because someone close to her had disappeared. “Why don’t people want to talk about it and learn?” I asked her. She chuckled, “Who wants to look under the hood?” (Just like a car that needs to be fixed!)

Nelson Mandela said it well: “Great peacemakers are all people of integrity, of honesty, but humility.”

If someone betrays me, do I try to work it out? Often, abuse is repeated and so I detach. Why put myself in front of that firing squad again? Still, the loose ends of my life lay next to me on these winter nights.

I remember my old friend Mary who disappeared after she got married. I decided to try to talk about it. I wondered, wasn’t it up to both of us to work this out, and asked if she wanted to try. I asked to stay away from emails, so letters flew around the playfield, and finally we settled on stopping our friendship of 15 years. I felt better knowing we heard each other and there was some closure.

I spoke without blame, stated my intention and needs, and then left the ballgame. Sometimes there’s no other way than simply moving on.

But, really, why do we walk away? Why so few completions? Is withdrawal, back-stabbing or bolting easier? How do we change the world if not at home?  Where’s the courage to face difficult conversations?

We say we want lasting peace. But if we can’t work through differences in our own backyards how can we change the world? As Henry Giroux said, the problem is that we are protecting the self – not the commons.

Take a chance and make that first move. Mend those split ends.

Katy Byrne is a psychotherapist in Sonoma and author of, “The Courage to Speak Up, Getting Your Hairballs Out.”