The Curiosity to Understand
Uncovering what is hidden
Adversity has been on my mind since my mother’s passing at 101 last month. Both my parents showered me with judgment and derision from my childhood through to near the end of their lives. Healing from those scars became a decades-long quest.
In As You Like It, William Shakespeare wrote:
"Sweet are the uses of adversity, which, like the toad, ugly and venomous, wears yet a precious jewel in his head."
I have experienced a “sweet use of adversity.” My resolve to never be like my parents led me to live my life in a way that is intentionally honoring of all who cross my path. This is reflected in how I communicate and interact with people. Something so very good in my life came through something that had been incredibly difficult to bear.
According to Wikipedia, the “precious jewel” refers to a mythical stone or gem found at the top of a toad’s head – a toadstone. It was thought to be an antidote to its poison.1 Don’t read how people tried to remove the stone if you are at all squeamish.
To uncover the antidote to the poison of my parents’ words and actions, I had to distance myself from the hurt and pain. Putting a few thousand miles between us certainly helped. From a distance, I was able to start being curious to know what drove them to be the people they became.
My mother and father were deeply unhappy together, yet they limped past their 60th wedding anniversary just before my father died. They couldn’t live with each other, and they couldn’t live without each other either.
Putting together the pieces
It has been years since I read Getting the Love You Want by Harville Hendrix. (Subsequent editions list Helen LaKelly Hunt as co-author.) What has stayed with me was an exercise to document information about my family when I was a child. Ultimately, that information would be used to explore what elements of that dynamic I was repeating with the men I was drawn to.
What I found most illuminating was doing this exercise from the perspective of my parents’ childhood.
My mother’s mother died giving birth to my favorite aunt when my mother was eight. Her father was unable to care for her and she was sent to live with her aunt (her mother’s sister). Mom’s father died when she was fourteen.
My great-aunt was a kind, delightful woman. I got to meet her once and liked her very much. My great-uncle, on the other hand, was cruel and treated my mother horribly. I imagine his behavior was not limited to only her. With my father, she married the equivalent of her uncle.
My father’s father was cruel to my grandmother and their children, and ended up abandoning them long before I was born. They never saw him again but somehow got word when he died. My father replicated his father’s cruelty in his relationship with my mother and me. Fortunately, there were good moments as well, but the damage was done.
Once I understood that both my parents were in a loop of repeating what they knew, I could start to feel empathy. I felt a profound sadness for them. They recreated the misery of their own family dynamic and brought it into their marriage.
Terry Real, the therapist and creator of Relational Life Therapy, was quoted as saying,
“In our hearts, we all think that we deserve the goddess or god who will deliver us from our childhood, even heal us and make it all better and give to us what we didn’t get. What we wind up with is somebody who is perfectly designed to stick it to us.” 2
My parents stuck it to each other. They married their toads. Neither was curious to find the stone.
Forging a new path
I knew at a young age that I would do whatever I could to not be like them. But I was without a compass – there was no north star to chart a path.
There was no positive role model I could observe or learn from until I was twenty and became friends with the Dean of Women at my college – the first of a great many teachers who have come into my life. They gave me tools to understand, heal, and navigate the world around me.
There was a hidden gift in working through my angst – the true magic of the toadstone. A lifetime of pain and anger was neutralized. There was healing and that brought peace which opened a very different dynamic in the final years of my relationship with both parents.
In addition to the toxic behavior of my mother, there were things my father did that were and still are unforgivable. What I learned is that I could forgive the person while not forgiving the harmful actions. Separating the two was of critical importance.
I came to fully understand that my parents did the best they could, that they loved me in their own way, that none of their behavior toward me was personal. They simply did not know another way to be.
A reflection
Adversity comes in many forms and guises over a lifetime. How we deal with that adversity (or not) is a key contributor to the shape of our lives. It is part of what makes us unique.
I believe that when we don’t learn from adverse events, we are given more opportunities to learn the same lesson. That drives me to learn.
We make choices, and there is power in those choices. It’s important to choose wisely.
Is there a toad you are curious about? May its stone reveal itself to you and bring you peace.
Toadstone: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Toadstone
“How I Learned That the Problem in My Marriage Was Me” by Daniel Oppenheimer https://www.nytimes.com/2025/02/04/magazine/therapy-marriage-couples-counseling.html?unlocked_article_code=1.yU4.pXyB.GYRLJmmprmBV&smid=url-share
Cathy, I'm inspired by your resolve to never be like your parents and to live your life intentionally, honoring all who cross your path. And even more, you had the empathy and courage to forgive them even though you won't forgive the actions. Thanks for taking us step-by-step through your story and how you eventually felt empathy.
Thank you for sharing such a personal experience and your thoughts on moving through and past it and its impact. Families definitely can carry generational wounds.