I grew up way before “sexual harassment” was a word in schools or the workplace. Where wolf whistles and up-and-down looks were just part of having two X chromosomes. I was also fortunate to grow up in the kind of family I talked about in this post—the “right” kind of family where I had a good sense of who I was and believed that most folks were trustworthy and would deal straightforwardly with me. My parents were scrupulously honest and dishonesty, lying or cheating was simply not something acceptable in my home.


I hung out with “horse people” and went to horse shows and definitely saw a different side of life … especially as modeled by my riding instructor, her two (what I now know to be anxiously attached) kids and her many sordid affairs (including one with the local equine veterinarian which went a long way towards bursting a lot of my bubbles!) But I was still unprepared for the day I got my braces off and was walking three feet off the ground with excitement. When the old guy who had been helping me train my horse—the guy who was my grandfather’s age and who I considered as safe as my grandfather—suggested to me that “we could work something out” and my mom wouldn’t have to pay him anymore … well, he had to spell it out for me. Really spell it out. I just didn’t get his hints, because it wasn’t in my frame of reference. That incident occurred about the same time my Physics teacher made a pass at me and my Economics teacher made a crude remark to me/about me out loud during the passing period in class. (He definitely qualified as the “dirty old man” type and would be crucified in today’s academic or office environment.) After those three experiences, I was ready to swear off anyone with a Y chromosome who was older than 20. But because I had learned to trust people, because I was able to focus on all the good folks around me, I was able to rise above those experiences and move forward.


I am still a trusting person. I still adhere to very high standards of conduct. However, like the vast majority of Americans, I am not entirely honest. I am guilty of driving too fast (speeding!) and I have probably been known to put music on my computer that I didn’t purchase directly. There are other examples of the little “white lies” we all tell that I really am not interested in blaring to the universe … but you get the drift.


Recently I was in a situation where my naiveté was once again an issue. Or perhaps it was my narrow frame of reference when it comes to circumventing “the system”—whatever that “system” might be (except maybe driving too fast? Is that why I have a fuzzbuster?) I don’t think like that. It had to be spelled out for me, and it wasn’t a comfortable situation. And it was good friend Julie who pointed out to me why I didn't get it--I'm "too straightforward, honest, innocent" to get it.


Interestingly enough, when I presented the scenario to my husband and Steph, they responded exactly like me. My husband’s business sense helped him understand more of what was behind the manner in which it was presented, but he completely understood why I missed the nuances. (After those derelict Y chromosome experiences I found a fabulous guy ... come to think of it, I knew him DURING those bad experiences!)


So what does all this have to do with attachment and kids with attachment issues? I realized that most of the families I have met and dealt with over the years are honest, straightforward folks who strive to raise honest, straightforward kids. Kids adopted domestically from the system (not privately!) don’t usually come from those kinds of families. Kids adopted from wherever sometimes don’t trust folks (duh—the root of attachment issues) and I have met a slew of troubled kids who lie more easily than they breath. Yet they are living with families who work incredibly hard to instill morals and values and integrity into their resistant little bodies.


I think it is partly for this reason that I so struggle with what I wrote about in the last post. I struggle because I see no core in Amy at all. No person in there, at least as of this moment. No moral compass. I don’t think she has told me the truth in ages. It is this lack of honesty, this lack of integrity that hurts the most. She hates herself, so integrity is a moot point—what does she own or claim that she thinks is valuable enough to defend? Nothing that I can see, including herself. That is her view, not mine. I see her as valuable but she doesn’t see herself that way. So I think I compensate for my incredible frustration over this issue by just being negative and defensive about the whole situation.


Once again, I can’t get where she is coming from because I don’t think that way. And frankly, I don’t want to think like she does any more than I want to think around “the system”. Straightforward, honest, innocent ... well, no longer innocent, for sure.

How to teach integrity to your children

A world sorely lacking in integrity

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