My Buttons.
May 26, 08- (by JunkysWife)
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I was telling a friend about how my husband pushes all my buttons, and she asked me, “What are you doing with buttons?”
Funny, huh?
Then, I was reading today’s post on Daily Om, and it made a lot of sense:
Buttons are just soft spots that have been touched one too many times, and they symbolize some pain that needs to be acknowledged and healed. This may be a wound from childhood, or some recent trauma, that we haven’t adequately tended. Whatever the case, when our buttons get pushed, the person who most needs our attention and caring is us, and blaming the button pusher only distracts us from finding a true resolution to our suffering.
I’m getting better at setting boundaries around my buttons, as my husband really is a compulsive button-pusher. I am a compulsive collector of button pushers, as well. I often find myself surrounded by people who really let me act out, again and again in fantastically painful ways, the most traumatic experiences and relationships I’ve ever had. I’ll work places where my talents aren’t appreciated, where I feel like I’m never good enough, and where I’m constantly on my toes and unsure of where I stand. I’ll befriend people who make sure I feel like I’m not good enough, not smart enough, not beautiful enough. If there’s someone who will treat me badly in a room full of strangers, I’ll be sure to seek that person out, sit next to him or her, and become best friends.
It makes sense that I’d act these things out. I still can’t properly talk about my childhood sexual abuse, not even with trusted friends. Until I work these issues out, I guess I’ll keep having buttons and finding people to push them.
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