It is not my fault! Playing the Blame Game

When certain themes reoccur in multiple therapy sessions, sometimes it helps me to write about them and shake the cobwebs off my thinking. Today's theme is : Blame.

Assigning Blame. Finding fault. Pointing fingers. Whatever term we use, it is about accusation. Although, on the surface, assigning blame seems to be about holding someone responsible, in reality, it is often used to justify one's own feelings or behavior. It is a little ironic that a person may really think they are doing the right thing by holding someone accountable, but when we use 'blame' to do it, we are going about it the wrong way.

Dictionaries and common usage often equate 'blame' and 'responsibility'. The two terms are often used interchangeably. However, if you take a look at synonyms, we can begin to see the negativity associated with 'blame': criticize, censure, condemn, denounce, dispraise, fault, knock, pan, reprehend. By contrast, look at the definition of 'responsible': able to answer for one's conduct and obligations : trustworthy : able to choose for oneself between right and wrong. I won't argue that it is possible to read the other dictionary entries and conclude that even the dictionary includes the idea that the two concepts are interchangeable. I will contend that most people use the two in the negative sense.

Is it wrong to hold someone accountable or to uncover responsibility? No. However, there is a categorical difference between the two ideas: Blame and Responsibility. Blame accuses and invites defensiveness. Blame is connected to shame and guilt. Blame is usually also connected to anger and bitterness. Responsibility, on the other hand, is about growth. Being responsible allows a person to be proud of him or herself. Being responsible means owning one's own actions and feelings, good or bad, and allows a person to have integrity.

So, even in those rare occasions when it is socially acceptable to blame, I expect it is not very helpful. Blame is usually more about making the blamer feel justified in being angry, hurt or bitter than it is about helping the blamed accept responsibility. Can you not hear it? Listen to this conversation (paraphrased and slightly embellished):

Me: What it is about your parent's separation that hurts you the most?
Client: Well, it is my fault that they split up. I just want them to stop fighting and be a family again.
Me: Whoa... what makes you think that it was your fault?
Client: Well, my mom told me that she blames me for their decision to separate... and she's right. The last big fight they had was because of my stupid decision to disobey the rules of my being grounded.

Here, we see the client accepting the blame that the mother asserts. Now, while it is true that the client broke the family rules about being grounded, the conflict between the parents predates the youth's behavior. The youth's behavior influenced the parents' feelings and actions, but did not cause the separation. The parents had plenty of actions they could have taken, but for various reasons, they chose to separate. At a later date, the mom is hurt and angry and in order to feel better about being angry, she blames her decision on the youth. In this case, the blame did not invite the youth to be defensive. Instead, in accepting the blame, the youth also accepted undue guilt and shame. Should the youth feel bad about the behavior that the youth is responsible for? Sure. Should the youth feel the burden of the parents' decision? No.

Of course, there are other details I am not sharing about this situation. I have cleaned up and sterilized the messiness of the relationships involved in order to highlight my point. Blame, even when you can make a case for it, is never helpful. It is hurtful. Blame is about accusation and justification. Blame invites defensiveness, shame and guilt. Blame seeks to allow the blamer to put off the responsibility for his/her own emotions on another person. "You make me so angry!" and "If you hadn't ******, then I wouldn't blah, blah, blah."Can you hear the accuser, the blamer, divesting himself of emotional responsibility? Even if the blamer can make a good case for blaming, the end result is that the blamed feels defensive, accused, ashamed, and either defiant or broken. None of those feelings is conducive to healing, restoration or emotional health.

So, what is the alternative? Is it possible to assign responsibility without resorting to the accusing nature of blaming? How does one go about inviting another to accept responsibility without heaping shame and guilt upon them? What does it look like to act, in love and respect toward the responsible party, and firmly and with assertiveness allow them to own their fault? On the other side of the coin, how does a person avoid accepting unfair blame while still being responsible for one's own feelings and actions? Can it even be done?

I do not have definitive answers for the questions in the last paragraph, but I do know that I am done playing the blame game. It is tiring sometimes, because others constantly invite me to see others in an accusing way, to see others through their eyes of hurt and blame. I have a secret, though. I have another who invites me to see others through His eyes. He has a point of view that is unique in all creation. Instead of a lens of blame, He sees through a lens of grace, of undeserved mercy. Every day, I have the choice to accept the invitation of the hurt, broken souls that I serve to see others as blameworthy. Ironically, we are all blameworthy. Instead, I strive to choose what is helpful and healing, which is to see everyone through the eyes of a merciful, gracious God. The Great Physician has some wonderful insight into how to begin the healing process for the souls of men.

And now, may you have the courage to offer grace instead of blame. It is not an easy task, but it is a way of reflecting the image of a gracious God instead of the Great Accuser.

-jeff

Do you see what I see?

Dear ______________,

I'm glad that you seem to be doing better. I enjoyed our talk today. It appears to me that you've been doing a lot of thinking about where you are and your choices and how you've reacted to things that have happened to you. I can only imagine the frustration that you feel right now, stuck in the place that you've landed. You told me that you didn't intend to end up here, but nonetheless, here you are. I asked you where you wanted to be and you didn't have an answer, or maybe you just didn't want to share that with me just yet. That's okay. As long as we keep talking, I'm sure we'll get there.

One thing confuses me, though, and I hope you can help me understand it a bit better. You seem angry about your circumstances, also a little hopeless. You mentioned that you just take life one day at a time, and react to what happens to you. I asked you about what your plans were, so that you could be more proactive and you told me that it was no use planning for things because you can't control the bad stuff that happens and it just ruins your plans anyhow. It made me sad to see that you have gotten caught in a self-fulfilling cycle. It goes like this: "I shouldn't make any plans for the future because too much can happen that would ruin my plans." Then something unexpected happens and you don't have any plans in place to mitigate the effect on you, which reinforces your belief that it does no good to plan for the future...

I can understand that from your perspective, my assertion that a lack of planning can equal an inability to dream, to see the myriad possibilities in front of you. When I told you that if you chose differently, that the outcome would be different, that probably seemed like I was talking gobbledygook.

It is like this, I feel like you are in a canyon, a ravine. You're standing at the bottom of it, seeing only two options: forward or backward. Door 1 or Door 2, each with consequences that keep you in the ravine. I'm up top, on a plain (kind of like West Texas, where you can see for miles in any direction). I call down to you and we talk about choices, but all you can see is what is in the ravine. I look around at 360 different directions I can take, choices I can make and wonder why you feel so limited. That's not really fair now, is it?

I understand why you feel so trapped. You have a need for others to see you as something. If you don't give in to the pressure from your peers, your family, you will be seen as... weak? untrustworthy? a wimp?

But what if the answer to your frustration, to your feeling stuck and trapped in your lifestyle was not forward or backward, but upward? What if you trusted me, the voice from above, who has a different perspective? You've got the basic ingredients already in the pot: discontent with where you are... motivation to change... new responsibilities that are helping you see beyond yourself to the interests of others... and you're beginning to see that when you are faced with the pressure to do something, you ALWAYS have the choice to NOT do something. I hope you can trust that I'm watching over you and I'm as close as a prayer when you need help. Despite what you've endured, I haven't forgotten you. I haven't forsaken you. My deepest desire is to open your eyes to the truth that with me, all things are possible.

Love, God.

Just being born

A while ago, I had a counseling session with a couple that made me evaluate myself. That happens a lot, you know. I think a good session works both ways, shaping the client and shaping the therapist. That is a good thing.

Anyhow, this client couple was in my office for a variety of reasons: marriage, communication, anger, infidelity, family of origin issues... you name it. Over the course of the hour, one phrase that jumped out at me was, "All I ever wanted to do was make my dad happy. Man, how I tried." I asked, "Did it ever work? Did you ever manage to please him?" The client thought about it and responded, "Well, he came to visit a few years ago and I think he was really pleased with what I've done." I may be reading too much into that reply, but what I *didn't* hear was very interesting to me. The client didn't say, 'My dad was proud of who I am' or 'He told me that he loved me'. He said that the Dad was pleased with what was done... What does it say about a person's identity to feel that one has to earn a parent's love? Part of me felt that the dynamic was all wrong. Perhaps that was just my adult sensibilities.

When I got home that night, all three of my kids attacked me when I got in the door. I had to beg them to quit hugging on me so I could set my things down and hug them properly. After bathtime, Ethan came running and stood on my lap (that is right, he was standing on my thighs). I made him sit down and said, "Ethan, I have a serious question for you. I want to know what you think you have to *do* in order for me to love you. (I put special verbal emphasis on the word DO)" Ethan thought about it for a minute and said, "Nothing. Just be born, I guess."

I don't know why any parent would want things to be otherwise. I'm glad that even at age 6, Ethan knows that he doesn't have to do anything to earn my love. He knows that I love him just because he is. I may get angry, I might be disappointed by his behavior or choices, but he doesn't have to *do* anything to make me love him and he is secure knowing that no matter what he does, he can't make me *not* love him. The same goes with Mary Hannah and Eleanor.

I believe that this is a glimpse into God's point of view that he sometimes blesses parents with: the gift of reminding us that he sees us much the same way we see our children. God loves us because we are his. Not only that, but he loves us much more than we can ever love our children. We had a role in creating our children, but God individually created each of us. Even more than that, he redeemed us, adopted us, sanctified us and restored us into relationship with him. We are greatly loved by our Eternal Father. How much more reason do we need to love others because they are loved by God just the same?