You Can Return From Exile
Exile is more than a geographical concept. You can be an exile in your homeland, in your own house, in a room.
-Mahmoud Darwish
Exile. It’s a pretty dire idea. It’s right up there with banishment, expatriation, and expulsion (thank you Webster’s Dictionary). In the past it was a punishment in lieu of death, but similar in function. When an individual was exiled from the family, the group, from civilization, that person was no longer “among the living,” and was forced to try to survive solely on their own wits, if they survived at all. However, those that did endure that kind of trauma gained a strength and independence that they otherwise would not have had, if they had stayed in their society. Living on the outside of a civilization can provide insights into that civilization itself. Although, the true benefit of that knowledge is only fully realized once the exile returns home.
Exile is not just physical. It can be social and emotional. It can be completely internal. Parts of our personality and traits can be considered unwanted or undesirable by those who should love us unconditionally, and so, with trauma, those parts are cancelled and subsumed into our private shadow persona, exiled to the wilds of isolation and barren solitude. This part of us remains in stasis for the term of our exile, stunted in its child or adolescent form as long as it remains unintegrated with our public or dominant persona. But that does not mean it doesn’t see the light of day. It just remains hidden until activated, usually by an inciting incident which is reminiscent of the trauma that split it from the primary self in the first place. Then anger, rage, and sometimes violence spew from the original victim wound. Afterwards, shame and self-loathing resume and that “unwanted” part is hidden from view once more.
If you had a narcissistic parent, then it’s likely there’s is a significant part of you in exile. That’s because a narcissist only sees the qualities they find valuable and relegates the rest to non-existence. Although you’re their child, they do not see you as a whole person. Therefore, as most children do to please their parents (or get conditioned by rejection and abuse), they grow into the role that is expected of them. Most of the time, this process causes significant emotional damage and internalizes a perpetual conflict mentality.
For example, in a narcissist family system with more than one child, one child is considered the favored one — the golden child — while the less favored one is considered the scapegoat, the one the narcissist can blame for the family’s problems. In my family, I was the only child, so I played both roles depending on whether I met my mother’s expectations. As long as I performed on command and could be shown off or bragged about, I was the golden child. If I was acting out, bringing home a B (or worse) in my school work, or caught lying I was the scapegoat. For years, I believed wholeheartedly that I was the cause of all my family’s problems, when the reality is, of course, much more weighted towards the adults in the family system. It was just an expression of the blame and shame which had been unfairly placed on my shoulders.
Unresolved internal exile splits our identity and pits us against ourselves, as well as sapping our energy and putting us in fight or flight mode. This also makes us ideal victims for predators and abusers to come into our life to take over the role that the parent created, since we have “turned off” our natural defenses after our boundaries were breached and our resources appropriated for someone else’s benefit.
I found myself in this state for nearly four decades. In both of my marriages, I picked women who crossed boundaries as a rule because I was trained to accommodate that particular personality type. As a result, my personal validation was externalized and it made me dependent on domineering females to provide that validation to me, which they would do in spades when we first started dating. Then after a time in the marriage, they would withhold it more and more as a control mechanism, eventually keeping me in a state of unfulfilled dependency which would fuel my sadness and depression and trigger unhelpful self-soothing behaviors.
Everyone must come out of his Exile in his own way.
― Martin Buber
Having parts of me in exile for so long and experiencing a great deal of social and emotional isolation, I subconsciously personified my inner emotions and drives as different people at odds with each other. I used to think this was normal, because I didn’t know any other way. Then as I started to go on my path towards emotional healing, I discovered that I was not actually different people in constant conflict, I was surprisingly only one person. It was that moment just like in the movie Fight Club where Jack realizes the gun is not in Tyler’s hand but in his own. After my second divorce with a foreclosure and a custody battle on my hands, I started to think that I might actually be the one shooting myself in the foot. That’s when I began to figure things out.
I came across an article in Full Frontal Psychology called “The Psychology of Exile” by Wray Herbert. He stated that those who face extreme loneliness were more likely to invent companions to keep themselves company — humanize objects and even imaginary supernatural beings as a substitute for “true human connection.” Humans are social creatures, and in situations where we can’t socialize, our minds create virtual communities to interact with.
I realized that during my “exile” in adolescence, I had done just that. I personified my anger, my hunger, my sex drive, my procrastination. I blamed these different parts of me for my situation and beat myself up in the process. And instead of tackling challenges head-on, I procrastinated, felt ashamed, ate, and went into my self-soothing routine. It became a state of near-arrested development. In my adolescence, a pattern was set for adulthood, a pattern of drama, frustration, and isolation which made for a constant source of angst and feelings of inadequacy.
It took decades for me to understand this dynamic, and to discover all the strands of interrelation and cause and effect. The way I found to unearth these connections was to talk about my feelings and emotions to another trusted person. Sometimes this was a friend or through group therapy or one-on-one with a therapist. This process of externalization was the only way I could evaluate and understand my wholeness and try to reset my perspective more favorably for myself.
Only the misfortune of exile can provide the in-depth understanding and the overview into the realities of the world.
-Stefan Zweig
A breakthrough finally came one day when I was visiting old friends in California, and we were discussing social issues, politics, and religion. I realized that my opinions and outlook were distinctly different from the rest of the group, and I could see patterns and interrelations that were not usually part of the mainstream narrative. I suddenly realized that all problems I had with fitting in with others ultimately resulted in personal strengths in being able to observe trends, behaviors and actions — to understand the overall qualities of people and groups regardless of what was overtly stated. Because I spent so many years outside the “system,” I was not indoctrinated by or attached to it. I could think outside the box and be more independent when it came to verbalizing my ideas and opinions.
Once I realized the strength which resulted from my unusual path through life, I started to let go of some deep-seated feelings of misery and frustration. I’m still in the process now, but every day there seems to be a new insight and some kind of progress to accept my fundamental oneness of spirit and mind.
Living in emotional exile is traumatic at first because it is a splitting of the whole self. But, ultimately, it can become a source of power if we see that the damage which happens to us only dismantles our misconceptions and illusions we cling to. Exile can remove veils and reveal a purpose or path in life which is fulfilled once we return from exile. Every shaman, prophet or religious messenger spent time alone with their God to clarify their vision first before they returned to “civilization” to deliver their insights. I can now thank the universe for my emotional exile. I find some solace in it and feel my purpose is to deliver a message that it’s not the death-sentence that people perceive it to be.
There is a way back from trauma and isolation. And in making our way back to a new version of ourselves with all our exiled parts unified and working together, we can find new strength. Adult children of narcissists who have aspects of themselves hiding in shame can come to see that the parts of us that were unacceptable posed the greatest threat to their parents. Those parts of us are powerful. And by overcoming our misplaced shame and integrating them into our lives, that power once again becomes our own.
