But They Mean Well and Other Ways to Excuse Draining Behaviors

Recognition is key.

After Covid and the flu, I thought I could crawl across the finish line and lick my wounds. Covid was mild. The flu, not so much. The worst part was its encore appearance after a few days of feeling normal and fever free.

And then Christmas Eve hit along with a wall of chandelier pain in my gut I have never, ever experienced before. Think childbirth, appendicitis and eating glass all rolled into one.

My five hours in the ER resulted in two scans that yielded nothing beyond constipation and lingering Covid/flu effects.

Seriously? You’re telling me I was full of shit? Okay, maybe that’s not a news flash.

Trying to get my gut regulated after dealing with intolerable side effects from the hormone blocker I was taking is proving to be more of a task that I realized.

So yeah. Cancer survivors know that just because you are done with active treatment, there is still a lot of healing that needs to take place. And this will take time. My oncologist says at least a year.

One thing I pondered while I was writhing in pain was this: this is what grief feels like.

Processing deep pain, allowing it to move through you and oh yeah, shit, too.

I’m still not a hundred percent and grateful that I have a Mayo appointment coming soon.

When I reached out to loved ones during this awful episode, the encouragement and love carried me through.

But whenever you put your vulnerable self out there, there will always be a few unhelpful things slipping through the cracks.

Unasked for advice. Armchair diagnoses. Sharing their worry. Projection of their fears.

Not helpful.

But that’s the go-to we are all trained in-try to fix others and, for god’s sake, don’t remind me of my own vulnerabilities!

I found myself repeating a refrain: They mean well.

But then I reflect deeper. They mean well.

They are familiar words to me. It’s been engrained in my thinking.

Now please, I don’t mean to sound ungrateful for the care expressed via advice. I am learning to receive graciously how to receive what sometimes comes across as ham fisted encouragement.

God knows I have done plenty of this myself. And will probably do it again, as transformation is a long, slow process.

But back to the “they mean well.” I want to go a little deeper with this.

Those words were my refrain the last several years of my marriage.

When I was treated with contempt-he means well, he is suffering.

When I learned of the infidelity-he couldn’t possibly know what he was doing because I know his heart. He means well.

The disregard for my needs-that’s okay. I can roll with it. He’s under a load. And he means well.

Every time I excused patterns of damaging behavior under this banner, I made myself smaller. Disregarded my own needs. Didn’t honor my own worthiness and my need to be treated with love and respect. Diminish and dismiss.

Rinse and repeat.

No, big slap to my ego-I didn’t know what the hell he meant, well-meaning or otherwise.

I hope when I say or do things that are not helpful, people who are in relationship with me understand my intentions. And we must do that with one another.

But when it is a chronic pattern of dismissing red flag behaviors-like excusing shit under “they mean well”, that is another matter.

There is a difference between tolerating occasional offenses that drain your energy versus being another to be locked into the pattern of chronic excuse making.

I had a toxic boss several years ago that was in this category. Her unstable, toxic leadership had everyone dancing to the whims of her capricious moods. Good lord, the stomach and headaches she triggered!

But she meant well, right?

As a recovering co-dependent, it’s comfortable to excuse. After all, that person just needs more love and understanding. (Cough, cough, cough.)

I’m all for love and understanding, but not at the cost of my sanity and self-worth. This is a truth that has taken me years to even glimpse.

My need to be seen as loving and accepting has played a part in this unhelpful pattern. Yes, I play a role in this too. Damit.

Shit always, ALWAYS, comes back to ME and my responses.

Here’s another thing too. I don’t know someone’s heart. I have trouble trying to figure out what the hell is going on in my own heart as it is.

What makes me think I have a special power to discern someone else’s motives? I don’t know jack.

And what was it that Maya Angelou said? “When someone shows you who they are believe them the first time.”

That right there is some solid advice. Observe. No need for judgement or the need to excuse behavior. No “they mean well.”

Just observe.

And then set boundaries if needed. And fer-the-love-of-god, enforce them.

Or, as with my marriage, end the relationship.

Back to the four alarm tummy ache.

Our bodies are magnificent and wise. Chronic but benign syndromes may be trying to get your attention by symptoms.

I’m still not sure what the exact mechanisms were to cause such awful pain, but I also want to listen to the message it is offering. And I also know the unrelenting stress I’ve endured this past year has exacted a toll.

So yes, I believe part of the symptoms I experienced were a manifestation of profound grief that has been bottled up inside. (But yes, I will also follow up with my doctor!)

As I heal physically, I want to heal emotionally as well.

Part of the emotional healing is learning to embrace the feelings instead of swallowing them and placing the load on my physical body.

I am learning to catch myself when I am continually excusing someone’s energy draining or toxic behavior. And to quit suppressing my own needs.

My prayer and hope for you as this new year unfolds, is that you will learn more deeply your ineffable worth and value. That you become more deeply acquainted with your beautiful heart-the seat from which True Self and love resides.

You are worthy of healthy relationships, rest, peace, and lots of laughter. You are worthy of being unburdened by trying to control or excuse others.

Happy New Year!

Thanks so much for reading. You can find me around the internet at www.theresawinn.com, on Facebook, LinkedIn and Instagram. If you’d like to support my writing in a small way, feel free to contribute to my wishlist. (Right now it’s a one-year subscription to Canva.)