The Art of Acceptance
I am no stranger to wanting things to change when they won’t. As a therapist who uses DBT in my work with clients, I am forced (in the best way possible) to use the skills that I teach every day.
In DBT, there are four options for change:
Create change/take action
Perspective shift
Radical acceptance
Stay miserable
That last one sounds harsh, I know, but it is sometimes the harsh slap of “staying miserable” that gets us to recognize the other options.
Acceptance is not usually my first course of action, typically, I try to create change or take action. This especially is true within relationships. I can schedule all the things, come up with activities, express boundaries, try to work as a team, and still not create the change I hope to see. Because I am not the only one that can create change.
We ran into many examples of this during our engagement. I felt defeated. If I could only do the skills “better” when talking to people about my hurt or my needs, maybe they’ll get it. But they didn’t. The harsh reality set in that even if I use the skills perfectly, it may not end in the change I hope to see.
At some point, someone asked me if I was surprised by a reaction I received in a conversation. This threw me through a loop. Of course I wasn’t surprised, this behavior is a pattern. But it still hurt. I still had hope that maybe, just maybe, this conversation would shift things.
In the kindest way, I was encouraged to explore my other options. Creating change and taking action was running me dry. I was exhausted, was having trouble sleeping and eating, I even chipped two teeth from stress. What would it mean to accept? At first, it meant just allowing them to walk all over me, to succumb to whatever insults were hurled my way. With further thought, I learned that it actually could be just simply not having a reaction. Every time I had a reaction, it was when I was trying to create change. If I accepted their behavior and didn’t react, maybe I would feel better. And I did.
At first, it felt foreign. Why not fight for the relationships with the people I loved? Shouldn’t I want to make the relationships better? Shouldn’t I work for resolution and connection?
Although, that is what I wanted, that was not the reality. Finding resolution was self abandoning. It was “she’ll come around eventually” and the assumption that I could be worn down with enough time and arguing. I didn’t want that kind of resolution anymore.
There was never true accountability for the hurt, as much as I wish there was. What did come from acceptance though, was a peace inside myself. I do think this peace improved the relationships altogether. The intention wasn’t for it to help them. It was to prevent me from going crazy trying to resolve a problem that wasn’t my responsibility.
Nowadays, there is still a relationship, though there is a much lower amount of vulnerability and emotional closeness. That’s the funny thing with enmeshment. It may still look like it did at face value, but underneath, I feel much safer. Not because change happened. But I accepted the reality and then chose to create distance. For me.
When I say there is an art to acceptance, I say that knowing that the art of it looks different to everyone. There is no right way to accept. What my acceptance looks like could be wildly different than what someone else looks like.
To me, it boils down to tolerance for distress, energy, capacity, and impacts to conflict. If I create change, that could impact my relationships that are adjacent to the one I’m changing. For some, I’m willing to do that. For others, I’m not. I have to be realistic that that is a reasonable barrier to change. And if I am not willing to cross that barrier, acceptance may be needed.
Relationships are complicated, delicate, magical, infuriating, and beautiful. If you have trouble with acceptance, relationships, in my opinion, are the hardest things to practice acceptance with. When you find your art of acceptance, whatever that looks like to you, I hope it brings you peace.
With Love,
Tay