Hi,
In my practice of couples, I meet so many of you that are devastated because one of you has reconnected with a long lost love on Face book or some other site. There are so many ways now to meet people on line, whether it is in a Chat room, porno site, or social site. It may start out innocently thinking that there is no harm in just saying hello. However, since both of you are probably feeling alienated from each other, this changes quickly. It is easy to just go into a locked room in their home and open the computer. it is so much harder to speak to your spouse and tell each other what you are feeling. It is surprising how many spouses see their partner locked in an office in their home and let them stay there hours without interruption surfing the web. Don't let this happen to you! If your spouse is spending too much time alone on the internet, knock on that door and ask questions. Find out what is going on. Start talking about your relationship. Don't let an affair begin. You don't have to be famous like Arnold Schwartzenegger, or Tiger Woods to have an affair. It could happen to anyone. Read this interesting article. Please let me know if I can help you.
Best Regards,
Beverly
By Tammy Nelson
Is it cheating if it is only online? Some experts say “yes.”
"Online emotional affairs are just affairs that have not become sexual yet..." said Peggy Vaughan, infidelity expert and author of The Monogamy Myth.
Emotional affairs often start on the internet and then develop into sexual relationships quickly. Vaughan says that her research shows that 56% of online affairs moved into real time contact within one week. Shirley Glass, author of Not Just Friends, found that 82% of people who cheated were friends with their lover first.
Click here to take a quick survey on Online Affairs: TAKE ONLINE AFFAIR SURVEY
Research shows that an online relationship may actually threaten your marriage or partnership. Internet relationships develop from screen to emotional or sexual contact. Although this can relieve loneliness and lend a sense of availability to a relationship, it may actually lead to a deeper sense of isolation.
Are you hiding an internet relationship from your partner? Don’t ignore the attraction or interest to someone you are emailing or chatting with. Talk to your partner and let them know you want to stay close and be bonded with them. Decide what kind of transparency is appropriate for both of you as a couple. Tell each other about your online relationships before they become affairs in cyber-time or real-time.
Experts say an affair begins the moment you lie or hide an internet relationship from your partner. Don’t wait until there is already an issue. Sit down with your partner and talk today.
For more info on the work of Peggy Vaughan go to www.dearpeggy.com or Dr. Tammy Nelson email tammy@drtammynelson.com or go to www.drtammynelson.com
Showing posts with label parenting Relationship counseling. Show all posts
Showing posts with label parenting Relationship counseling. Show all posts
Thursday, May 19, 2011
Friday, May 28, 2010
Could Dropping Out of High School be the Best Thing?
Although, I primarily counsel couples, parenting issues often come up with disagreements about their children and different parenting styles. There is a huge emphasis in many communities about getting children into the best schools from nursery schools, up till college and graduate schools. Here is one parent's approach to allowing her daughter to drop out of High School and is actually very supportive about it. Although this wouldn't work for all children, what would you do if this was your daughter?
It's graduation season and the irony, in my household, abounds.
You see, I teach graduate students at one of the top universities in the country, the same university where my husband was a professor as well. I've authored five parenting books, and I write a column for a parenting magazine. I'm often quoted as a "parenting expert." This is a home where bookshelves line the walls, where we eat dinner together every night, where we run to the dictionary for definitions of words we don't know.
My daughter Annie grew up in a hotbed of education. But high school didn't work for her, so I encouraged her to drop out. I'm proud of her for making the choice and I'm proud of myself for supporting it.
As an educator and this so-called "parenting expert," I understand the ramifications of her actions, and I believe she does, too -- as much as any 17-year-old can. Without a diploma, she can't go to a four-year university. Without a college degree, many doors will be closed to her. Sure, she could go to a community college -- she tried that last semester -- though it didn't work for her, either.
Yet.
If I was trying to justify my feelings and her actions, I could list hundreds of high-school dropouts who've become wild successes: Billionaire Richard Branson, movie star Uma Thurman, labor leader Cesar Chavez , scientist Albert Einstein.
But actually I don't really care about that. I care about my daughter's happiness right now. Right now, she works part time in a bookstore, sleeps late, hangs out with her friends, studies acting at a top theater conservatory and dreams about being a movie star. Right now she recovers from her father's sudden death 17 months ago.
Annie passed the California high-school proficiency test at the end of her sophomore year, six months after her father's death. With that, she was done.
Grief and shock were only part of her decision not to go back. She'd struggled during her two years of high school. She'd coped with mononucleosis, attention deficit disorder, dysgraphia, depression, strep throat (twice), a severely sprained ankle, pneumonia and countless colds. She tried hard, and she tried not trying. The teachers had accommodated as much as they could. I'd sat with her many nights as she wept over her homework, struggling to complete work she just didn't see the point in doing.
"School wasn't working out for me," she says. "I believe you're supposed to learn things in school, and I realized that the next two years would be a waste for me to sit through."
I had no argument. High school was not a good fit for her. She was right.
Parenting a teenager is all about trust. I can't force Annie to go to school, though I tried. I can't force her to want to be in school, and unless she wants to be there, she won't go. I trust my daughter's instincts, and I know that a path is not always linear. And she comes from a strong family tradition of alternate paths. It took me nine years to get my BA and I ended up with a successful and creative career. Her father didn't start community college until he was 24. By the time he died, he was the special adviser to a head of state.
Annie is a thoughtful, smart, beautiful girl who knows herself. I'm not worried about her future. She has a job, and she's pursuing her dream of becoming a professional actor. When she wants to, if she wants to finish school, she'll do it. When she's ready for a formal education, she'll find her way. She has to learn what she wants and needs in life, and she has to work for it herself. I will support her in whatever endeavor she chooses -- but the impetus must come from her, not from me.
Parental pride is far more complex than a bumper sticker bragging, "My child is an honor student at Blah Blah High School." My daughter is a high-school dropout, and this mother couldn't be prouder.
Ericka Lutz teaches writing at the University of California, Berkeley, and is the author of On the Go with Baby and The Complete Idiot's Guide to Stepparenting. Read Ericka's blog, and about her new one-woman show, A Widow's To-Do List, on Red Room.
It's graduation season and the irony, in my household, abounds.
You see, I teach graduate students at one of the top universities in the country, the same university where my husband was a professor as well. I've authored five parenting books, and I write a column for a parenting magazine. I'm often quoted as a "parenting expert." This is a home where bookshelves line the walls, where we eat dinner together every night, where we run to the dictionary for definitions of words we don't know.
My daughter Annie grew up in a hotbed of education. But high school didn't work for her, so I encouraged her to drop out. I'm proud of her for making the choice and I'm proud of myself for supporting it.
As an educator and this so-called "parenting expert," I understand the ramifications of her actions, and I believe she does, too -- as much as any 17-year-old can. Without a diploma, she can't go to a four-year university. Without a college degree, many doors will be closed to her. Sure, she could go to a community college -- she tried that last semester -- though it didn't work for her, either.
Yet.
If I was trying to justify my feelings and her actions, I could list hundreds of high-school dropouts who've become wild successes: Billionaire Richard Branson, movie star Uma Thurman, labor leader Cesar Chavez , scientist Albert Einstein.
But actually I don't really care about that. I care about my daughter's happiness right now. Right now, she works part time in a bookstore, sleeps late, hangs out with her friends, studies acting at a top theater conservatory and dreams about being a movie star. Right now she recovers from her father's sudden death 17 months ago.
Annie passed the California high-school proficiency test at the end of her sophomore year, six months after her father's death. With that, she was done.
Grief and shock were only part of her decision not to go back. She'd struggled during her two years of high school. She'd coped with mononucleosis, attention deficit disorder, dysgraphia, depression, strep throat (twice), a severely sprained ankle, pneumonia and countless colds. She tried hard, and she tried not trying. The teachers had accommodated as much as they could. I'd sat with her many nights as she wept over her homework, struggling to complete work she just didn't see the point in doing.
"School wasn't working out for me," she says. "I believe you're supposed to learn things in school, and I realized that the next two years would be a waste for me to sit through."
I had no argument. High school was not a good fit for her. She was right.
Parenting a teenager is all about trust. I can't force Annie to go to school, though I tried. I can't force her to want to be in school, and unless she wants to be there, she won't go. I trust my daughter's instincts, and I know that a path is not always linear. And she comes from a strong family tradition of alternate paths. It took me nine years to get my BA and I ended up with a successful and creative career. Her father didn't start community college until he was 24. By the time he died, he was the special adviser to a head of state.
Annie is a thoughtful, smart, beautiful girl who knows herself. I'm not worried about her future. She has a job, and she's pursuing her dream of becoming a professional actor. When she wants to, if she wants to finish school, she'll do it. When she's ready for a formal education, she'll find her way. She has to learn what she wants and needs in life, and she has to work for it herself. I will support her in whatever endeavor she chooses -- but the impetus must come from her, not from me.
Parental pride is far more complex than a bumper sticker bragging, "My child is an honor student at Blah Blah High School." My daughter is a high-school dropout, and this mother couldn't be prouder.
Ericka Lutz teaches writing at the University of California, Berkeley, and is the author of On the Go with Baby and The Complete Idiot's Guide to Stepparenting. Read Ericka's blog, and about her new one-woman show, A Widow's To-Do List, on Red Room.
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