Excerpt from You Are More Than You Think You, by  Lynne Bernfield MA., MFT

In childhood we learn which of our impulses or behaviors are acceptable and which are not. The acceptable qualities become our Cover Story; a true, but limited version of who we really are. The qualities or behaviors which brought criticism, punishment or neglect, although also true of us, are hidden Undercover and become unavailable. Both are hard-wired in our brain, which causes us to demonstrate our Cover Story qualities and deny and often vilify the Undercover qualities we were denied.

Five-year-old Susie was publicly humiliated for choosing the biggest present at a child’s birthday party. Today she can’t ask for anything from her friends, husband, children or the person who cleans her house. Her Cover story is ‘I don’t need,’ her ability to want is deeply Undercover, and she thinks people who ask for what they want, are selfish.

We bring this limited version of ourselves into every relationship we have.

Samuel’s father was a harsh man who constantly criticized his son, growling “who do think you are?” Today Samuel has to force himself to send invoices for his work. The idea of asking for payment makes him physically sick. Samuel’s Cover is ‘I don’t deserve,’ his ability to ask for payment is deeply Undercover and although jealous of people who ask to get paid, he secretly he thinks they’re greedy.

Out of sight, but not out of mind

Many people think they can escape the legacy of their childhood by moving away. Unfortunately, it doesn’t work. When the situation in the present resembles your experience in the past, your brain, using the information it learned in childhood, will compel you to revert to your childhood behavior.

Lena’s mother had a short temper and Lena learned early not to say anything that might upset her. She moved away, rarely visited and told her family little about her life. Very bright and highly educated, she was successful and self-confident in her career. She prided herself on her independence until confronted by a situation which too closely resembled her childhood experience. She’d been living with Carlos for a year, something she hadn’t told her family. When her mother, who disapproved of people “living in sin,” came for a visit Lena forced Carlos to move out, taking everything that suggested he lived there, and not return until her mother left.

Even long after parents have died, the pressure to be the person you were in your family is compelling.

Trudy’s mother’s migraines would strike unexpectedly and incapacitate her. Trudy was her caretaker. She didn’t mind. She loved her mother who called her a saint. Trudy became a nurse she believed it was “her calling.” After many years of working back-to-back shifts, she was exhausted. Although her mother had died many years before, Trudy couldn’t bear the idea of disappointing her by taking time off. Colleagues expressed concern, but she insisted she was fine. Her ‘I save others’ Cover Story was driving her, and her ability to ‘take care of herself, was deeply Undercover One day at work she broke down in tears, and was forced to take time off.

This is not who these people want to be, it isn’t even who they are. It’s who they learned they’d better be and/or who they’d better not be

Even if you’ve moved out, are self-supporting and started a family of your own, the pressure to be the person you were in your family of origin is compelling. When you can’t do what you want to do, or be the person you want to be, it’s likely you’re responding to what you learned in the past

The pressure to be the person your childhood taught you, you were, and now, virtually everyone in your life expects you to be, is one of the biggest obstacles to being who you really are.  Unconsciously, we know questioning these beliefs could threaten the balance of our family, past and present, so we’re unwilling to take risk

That risk is called Differentiation, a term coined by Dr. Murray Bowen, it means “the ability to have different opinions and values than your family members, while staying emotionally connected to them.”  To see an example of differentiation, do the exercise below.

Put your palms together and interlock your fingers. Your interlocked hands represent your family. Now stick up one of the fingers, anyone will do. That’s what it looks like when you differentiate a self from the family ego mass.

You can see that when you differentiate, although you’re a free-standing individual, you’re still able to connect to your family.  Until you differentiate, question your Cover Story, and wonder if you have placed qualities, you need Undercover, the pressure to be the person you were in your family is irresistible. You’re on autopilot, compelled to play a role you learned in childhood in all your relationships. And although it feels as though you’re choosing what you think, feel, say, and do, your brain is simply recycling the lessons it learned in childhood.

Easier said than done.

You can’t simply decide to differentiate. Changing behavior your brain is insisting on, and the people in your current life are expecting, contradicts everything your history taught you about what is safe.

When you’re hurt or disappointed if you can’t confront the person causing your distress you may try to ignore it, hoping whatever is bothering you will stop. If it doesn’t stop the distress increases. If you still can’t confront the problem directly, most people confide their distress to someone other than the source of their unhappiness. This is called Triagling. While Triagling, or “getting it off your chest’ allows you some relief, there is a downside which I will describe in the next chapter