My parents blamed me for the dysfunctional mess in my childhood home. The anger, abuse, beatings—all occurred because of me.
Over time, I developed a distorted sense of responsibility. I saw myself as the tail end of everything and blamed everyone else for my misery and discomfort. I thought if only other people would do what I wanted, if only they’d change their behavior, then my life would be better.
One day a neighbor gave me a sack full of iris rhizomes. I had always loved the colorful spring flower and was grateful to plant them in my yard. But they didn’t bloom. I blamed my neighbor. She had ignored my questions about planting them. She hadn’t dug them up correctly. She had given me defective bulbs.
It wasn't her problem to solve
I soon realized that by blaming my neighbor, I was focusing my attention on her actions, making her responsible for finding a solution, while disregarding my part in the situation. It was my flowers, my garden, my yard. It wasn’t her problem to solve. Only I had the ability to do that.
My parents had done the same thing with me. By blaming me and my behavior, they were able to ignore the real problem: my father was an abusive alcoholic.
When I blame, nothing is solved
Just like my neighbor wasn’t responsible for my irises not blooming, I wasn’t responsible for the dysfunctional mess in my childhood home. I was simply a child being held responsible for the behavior of the adults in my life.
I began to see that as long as I was blaming someone or something for the difficulties in my life, nothing would be solved. I had to take responsibility for my actions. I alone had the power to work out my troubles and change my life.
I made a plan. I took action.
I started by focusing on what I could do. I searched for answers on why my irises weren’t blooming and made a plan. I took action. I divided the rhizomes. I moved them from a shady garden to a sunny one. I applied a specific fertilizer. I watered them regularly.
By doing so, I was accepting responsibility for my actions, good or bad, right or wrong. I was looking at my part in the situation, owning my mistakes and changing my behavior. I found I was happier when I kept the focus on me and what I could do, instead of rehearsing what someone else should or should not be doing.
The next spring, the irises bloomed.
One afternoon I was watering the flowers and my neighbor walked by. She stopped to admire the fragrant purple blooms. “Those are gorgeous. Mine never bloomed that well.” As she turned to walk away, she said, “I must’ve given you all the good ones.”
I smiled and said, “Yes, you must have.”
9 responses to “The Blame Game”
What a wonderfully thought-provoking story! You learned your lesson and took responsibility, which resulted in “gorgeous” flowers. Your neighbor’s reaction to your “fragrant purple blooms” reflects the work she needs to do on herself.
I love this! You summed it up beautifully. Thank you for your comment, Noosha.
Sallie
Sallie,
When we become the driver of our choices, decisions, actions, reactions and responses it sets us free and we take our power back. Thank you for sharing your story with us. It reminds me of when I came to the place where I started to see life differently🦋
Love BellaRayne
You are so right. Glad you see life differently now.
Thank you for commenting, Bella Rayne.
Sallie
Sallie, what a delightful, inspiring story. It’s been my experience that taking the highroad is not always easy, but profitable in ways I never imagined. 😃♥️
Thank you, Carolyn.
Sallie
How metaphoric this is! Thanks for sharing this, a lesson for us all who find ourselves trapped in the vicious cycle of trauma where we can’t unroot ourselves (no pun intended!). You are an inspiration – keep blogging, writing, and inspiring….
Thank you, Laura.
Sallie