
Not so long ago my wife Jodi and I went on a marriage retreat. And—you’re going to love this—even though I’d been a therapist for years, this was the first marriage retreat we had ever attended. Aren’t therapists supposed to love retreats like that? Of course! We just hadn’t gotten around to going to one yet. I was filled with hope and excitement for the retreat. What would I learn? How would Jodi and I connect? What would we do? This was going to be amazing. I had the highest of hopes.
We traveled to the retreat center, saw some of my good friend who were hosting the conference, met some new friends, and everything was going wonderfully—right up until we had a breakout session in which we started to talk about some difficult things. For me, when hard things come up, I have to be careful, because these types of conversations are often triggering. When that happens, if I’m not focused, my brokenness and trauma can sometimes spill over. Maybe you can relate?
Over the course of this afternoon, when we were supposed to be laughing in the sun, swimming, and doing all these amazing things at the retreat center, I found myself fighting with my wife in our cabin, fighting like we hadn’t fought in years. We covered all of our greatest hits—you know, the things you never resolve that just keep coming up. This was not what I’d expected of our first marriage retreat, and when I yelled that maybe we needed to sleep separately for a while when we got home, I knew I had gone too far. Way too far.
You can’t just say something like that and then ask the other person to put sunscreen on your back. If we were at home, maybe I could have just hidden my feelings or gone somewhere for a little bit, but we were at a marriage retreat with a bunch of other couples, and the reality is that the minute I said it, I crushed Jodi’s feelings. I frantically tried to think of how to solve this problem quickly, or how to at least put a Band-Aid on it so we could pretend it had never happened and go on with the weekend. Unfortunately, it was less of a Band-Aid situation and more like the time I kicked a soccer ball through our picture window while my mom was gone and I tried to hide it by hanging a towel over it. The window was still broken, and my mom and everyone else knew it.
Eventually we concluded that we were getting nowhere, that we weren’t even sure what we were arguing about anymore.
I was sad that I had said hurtful things to Jodi, but the retreat was still going on and I couldn’t just hole up in the cabin for the rest of the trip. I couldn’t be the guy who was like, “Hey, can you just leave some food at the front door? I know we came here to see friends and attend this retreat, but could you just leave me alone?”
So instead of hiding like I so desperately wanted to, we stepped out of the room and headed to meet everyone at the pool. I was terrified—terrified that I would be seen, terrified that everyone would know how broken we really were. As we walked, we ran into Mike and his wife, whom I have long respected and admired from afar and now hoped to become friends with. I stood there and could only think, “I’m caught.”
Because neither Mike nor his wife are mind readers, they asked, “How’s it going?”
When people know you, or when they actually care, or when they’re good listeners, or when they’re a therapist too, “How’s it going?” becomes a dangerous question because they actually want to know how it’s really going.
I had a second to decide. Should I try to hide the brokenness that had just occurred between me and Jodi? Should I lie about it? Should I push it to the side? Should I call it something else? Or should I just own it?
This might not seem like that big of a deal to you, but in that moment I felt as exposed and vulnerable as ever. It was like meeting one of your heroes and telling them you’re actually really messed up and hoping they still like you. I attribute what happened next to God, because if it had been up to me, I don’t think I would have said what came out of my mouth. I leveled with Mike and said, “Today has been terrible. We fought. I said some things that were really unkind. I’m embarrassed. I don’t know what to do.”
This was hard for me to admit, and I’m almost certain that after I said it, I winced. I just expected that they would think less of me because of what I’d just told them. But they didn’t. Instead, Mike said, “Oh? What can we do to help? Let’s talk it out. What’s going on?”
My friend didn’t reject me when I showed him my brokenness. He welcomed me with open arms.
So often our temptation is to run away from our brokenness, whether that means ending a relationship, relocating, or simply not returning a call. And yet when we do this, nothing changes. There is no improvement. Instead it just becomes another place we don’t go.
When you risk letting a therapist, coach, friend, or other safe person in, what you often find is that you are hardly alone. In most cases, the person understands and wants to help you get put back together. We let shame and guilt hold us back from letting others in, which can lead us to feel isolated and without hope.
It’s challenging, but sometimes we need to stay put and deal with the brokenness. Maybe because we are tired of running or we are in too much pain, but it becomes obvious that it’s time to do the work.
Taken from Get Past Your Past by Jason VanRuler. Copyright © 2023 by Solomon Recovery. Used by permission of Zondervan. www.zondervan.com.
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Bio:
Jason VanRuler is the author of Get Past Your Past: How Facing Your Broken Places Leads to True Connection. He began his career in 2011 and has worked with many populations over the years, ranging from persons who are incarcerated to top CEOs, performers and artists, and just about everyone in between. Jason has extensive experience as a clinician, coach, and speaker and operates a multistate private practice. In 2018, Jason joined Bethesda Workshops in Nashville, TN, where he serves as a group leader and facilitator. Jason is known for his ability to relate and connect with his clients and offer hope to those who have felt hopeless. He has an engaged and rapidly growing online audience for his insightful, short videos sharing practical tips for psychological care, self-help, and healthy relationships.
Jason enjoys spending time with his wife and three children playing games and traveling. In his spare time, Jason enjoys cycling, running, music, fly fishing, and all things personal development related.
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Great article