This morning I was thinking about emotional smells and my answers to emotional questions. More specifically- How do you feel about the possibility of my x-husband getting out of prison? How do I feel about him-what are my feelings for him? Or even more to the point-what are I going to do when he gets out? Will we live together? My boys poised these questions during some discussions this week in conjunction with some highly emotional and triggering smells connected with their behavior. Though on the surface these smelly events seem unrelated, as I think about my responses, I believe they are connected and offer insight into possible answers to those questions I've been avoiding.
I have a superpower- my superhuman, super-sensitive nose-able to pick up the scent of anything. My triggering event was waking up to the smell of cigarette smoke in my kitchen. Though it is hardly the worst case scenario regarding children's behaviors, the smell triggered me. The smell not only reminds me of the mechanism that killed my father but it also pollutes my sanctuary I call home and assaults my values. Smoking is such an intrusive habit. It's near impossible to hide. It's just out there for everyone to judge, and rightly so because it influences their health as well. It's not just a personal habit; it's a health hazard. Thus all the smoking bans-everywhere. I was obsessed as I went about cleaning up the house, doing every piece of his laundry, purchasing my favorite essential oils and some scented candles-all in an effort to rid myself of that triggering smell.
Where's a person supposed to smoke these days? My parents grew up in the age where everyone smoked everywhere. Fortunately for me, my father didn't smoke in the house so my clothes didn't smell like it. I always hated the smell and would cough around it when he smoked in the car. But when he died from lung cancer, the smell of cigarettes took on a new meaning for me. I got angry when I saw people buying cigarettes and wanted to shake them and say, "Why are you wasting your money on something that's killing you and the people you love?" I was mad at the people making cigarettes available to young, impressionable minds enticing them with claims of being cool, tough, thin, alert, spiritual or marketing them as gateways to pleasure, increased awareness or as an acceptable coping skill for stress. I was mad, sad, and heart sick because regardless of my turbulent upbringing with my alcoholic, chain-smoking father, I love and miss him. I wish he would have never started smoking and drinking cause I would love to have him back-if only just to yell at me and tell me how stupid his Pooh Bear is.
As I thought about my current situation regarding this child living with me and smoking in some form or fashion, I realized I could not tolerate it. Though I feel sick about some of the personal choices of all my children, this particular choice was intrusive to the point that it was making me crazy. I realized I am "emotionally allergic" to cigarette smoke. Though I can be around people who smoke, visit with them, hang out and be friends, support them and love them deeply- I cannot live with a person who smokes. My son told me I was looping as I repeated over and over the statement, "You can smoke or do whatever you want, but if you do, you will have to live somewhere else. I love you but I cannot live in the same house with someone who smokes." I had a little emotional breakdown and cried and wailed like a baby-or as he put it, "I saw little girl Erin pleading with her daddy". It kind of freaked him out. He committed to living by the house rules and that's where the discussion ended. Though the break was triggered from cigarette smoke, it really was about a whole lot more-things that have been building up about a whole lot of traumatic issues.
As I explore answers to questions regarding my impending x-husbands release, my looped response seems to fit. "You can continue to do whatever you want; lie, steal, cheat, do whatever you want but you will have to live somewhere else. I love you, but I cannot live in the same house with someone who does this or that. It's not like I have never set boundaries or communicated standards and expectations for continued co-habitation before. The problem came when my x-husband committed to live a certain way- such as acting like a married man or honest businessman and then lied about his compliance. He then used one billion words and reams of paper-both legal and not, in an effort to convince everyone he was living those standards, denied responsibility for unsafe behaviors and continued to push limits. He was the camel nudging his nose under my tent demanding to live with me because he loved me and he was safe. Well it sure didn't smell safe to me and it still doesn't.
I already know the answer to the questions I've been avoiding- I've never been avoiding them. I already wrote them down in a letter I sent to both children and x-husband back in 2008 outlining my willingness to live together as a married couple if he agrees to follow house rules-safe rules that don't stink up the house. He needs to take responsibility for past unsafe behaviors-behaviors that present health hazards for his family as well. He has to not only commit to but also demonstrate safe behaviors and have proof of them in order to live under the same roof. These safe behaviors are easy to document; no outstanding legal judgements, a temple recommend, a tax return. It's all written down-I had just forgotten about it. With all my husband's Jedi mind tricks, I start to question my previous responses about boundaries. In fact, I forget what the questions are in the first place. His constant gas lighting results in extreme mental confusion-not only does he sound crazy but he makes me think I'm crazy as well-and all this with extremely limited contact. What's it going to be like when he's in my face-literally? The smell of gas (or "gas lighting") is usually odorless. Will I be able to smell "unsafe"?
I think that is what makes a trigger a trigger- I associate cigarette smell to being unsafe. I actually have the same reaction to the smell of beer. Certain behaviors are much more intrusive, invasive, toxic, and filthy than mere cigarette smoke. Certain behaviors present continuous safety hazards. This is not about perfection folks or thinking I'm some saintly woman with no one good enough to step across my threshold. I have no desire to live alone with my principles rather than living with the people I love. I want my nest to be a place of healing-to bind up broken wings so my little chickies can fly. Yet I'm also trying to build a nest that is clean, peaceful and safe and expect all who live with me to do the same or who are at least making an effort to be clean. Blanket acceptance of unsafe behaviors will not create a place a refuge. Everyone has to take responsibility for the environment we create together.
Latter-Day temples provide a good model in creating a house of cleanliness, safety and peace. People who desire to live with the Lord, not just visit with him or receive a quick embrace, must value cleanliness. People freely choose to commit to clean living and safe behaviors of obedience, sacrifice, law of chastity, and consecration; behaviors that show gratitude and love for the Lord's redeeming grace. It is through faith in Jesus Christ and his great work of atonement that we are washed clean. The spirit of the Lord rests upon his temples. It is His house. His spirit permeates the air like a clean smoke I not only don't mind getting stuck in my clothing, but WANT to permeate every fiber of my being; I want it that smell to stay with me. It smells like the Spirit, not the"teen spirit" of grunge.
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