Dear Carolyn: I don’t think my mom even realizes she does it, but she’s always used emotional blackmail to get people to do things. “If you love me you’ll do XYZ.” “People who love their mothers do XYZ.” “Only uncaring people wouldn’t do XYZ.” I’ve learned to set boundaries and do pretty well.
Well, our state is under a “shelter in place” order. She has enough food and supplies to last her a month. But she’s lonely. I’ve ramped up my calling her. But it’s not enough for her.
She has now started with, “I’ll probably die from this and I want to see you one last time, so if you love me you’ll come visit me.” She is 70 and lives in a building for the elderly. I’m still working full time and have had lots of exposure. She shouldn’t leave, and I shouldn’t go there.
But I’m racked with guilt! Because if she does die and I didn’t see her one last time, then I would be devastated and not able to forgive myself. What do I do? — Anonymous
Anonymous: I am so sorry you’re in this position.
But please tune out her “one last time” violins, and think. What if you do see her, and you infect her with the illness, which then kills her. Won’t that guilt be absolutely horrific?
Meanwhile, other people love the other people in your mother’s building, too. Even if your buckling under your mother’s pressure doesn’t ultimately harm you or your mother, it still puts everyone else’s loved ones at risk.
So let’s give the whole thing a quarter turn and look at it from that angle: Let’s say some other adult has a 70-year-old mother who lives in the same building as your mom and who employs guilt at about your mother’s level of subtlety. But this hypothetical adult doesn’t have your strength and indulges Mama with a visit, and in doing so infects Mama, who then infects your mom, and then a chain of beloved dads, aunts, retired professors and piano teachers and crossing guards. How would you feel then about this person who caved?
Well: You are this person now. I am this person now. We all are this person now. We have to look out not just for ourselves, and not just for the people we love, but for everyone connected to us and to everyone connected to everyone we love. If the worst of it is feeling guilt, then wear that guilt with the honor of doing your part.
Many really are dying alone so that many more don’t have to die. It is terrible math, but the answer isn’t up for honest debate.
Dear Carolyn: My in-laws always love to apply guilt and pressure to relationships but are really ramping it up now. Every time they FaceTime with my 2-year-old, it’s endless, “We miss you sooooooo much, don’t you wish you could be here with us? Don’t you wish we could visit you? Don’t you want to come here as soon as this is over?? Should we come up there now so we can all be together?!” I about lose my mind over this, but my toddler doesn’t find it upsetting — he just says “yeah!!” and then forgets about it after the call. So I should say nothing . . . right? — Losing My Mind
Losing My Mind: Right, say nothing about the ooooh-I-want-to-prioritize-my-feelings-over-contagion issue, because you are not going to budge the willfully unbudging.
But do say something . . . else, the moment they start with the visit guilt. Anything else. Think of it as changing the subject with a crowbar if that’s what it takes to redirect them. “Ya, miss you too!! So, have you read anything/watched anything/tried any recipes/listened to anything worth sharing?” And if they blow past that first conversational exit ramp, recalculate and reroute: “Well, I just started _____, have you seen it?” Repeat as needed or “Oops, gotta go.”
If your deflection attempts are awkward non sequiturs, then so be it; don’t worry about logical flow. Your goal isn’t to make coherent conversation, it’s to present a surface so impervious that guilt can’t get any traction.
That’s because guilt isn’t something they create on their own; it is a transaction, a circuit they need you to complete if it’s going to work. Plus, if this is their standard emotional operating procedure, then you’ll need to get good at gracious resistance. Their FaceTimes with your toddler offer an arm’s-length, low-stakes, recurrent chance to make you an expert at boundaries, I’m guessing by the Fourth of July.
