If you’ve followed the chapters so far, you’re probably wondering: Why did I keep repeating the pattern of disaster? Answer 1 is, I had no clue at the time that there was a pattern. I just thought life was bringing me adventures rich in literature, music, art, and independent lifestyles (“simple living” in Vermont; big gardens; raising chickens; being self-employed).
Answer 2 is: I had an instruction manual — or, as I later learned to call it, a “tape” that played in my decisions. Now I call it Dad’s Playbook: His instructions for being an intelligent, sophisticated, and appreciative adult woman boiled down to “If someone finds you attractive and you feel the same way, go ahead and have sex together — good sex with lots of joy.”
What I didn’t realize for even longer was, I had a double message from Mom that fed into Dad’s: A, that women who didn’t behave the way Dad expected them to behave were stupid, undereducated failures (he proved it in the way he bullied her; she yielded to him, so he must have been right); and B, that you must never discriminate against people who can’t help having the problems they have, whether those are physical ailments or emotional ones. Basically, part B of Mom’s teaching echoed: “Just say yes.”
