“Perfection Is Not Within Our Reach”

According to marriage therapist and author Vienna Pharaon of @mindfulmft

“Mine is a personal story.” Vienna began. 

November 1991 marked the start of kindergarten for marriage & family therapist Vienna Pharaon. It also marked the end of her parents' marriage and the beginning of a nine-year-long divorce saga that shaped the course of her relationships for years to come. "For quite a chunk of my life, I bore witness to wild manipulation, gaslighting, psychological abuse, paranoia, emotional flashbacks, and super high conflict situations. Made worse by the fact that I was an only child and watching solo as my parents crashed and burned around me. To cope, I became the peacemaker and assumed responsibility for my parents' happiness. It was an impossible task, yet still, I gave it my all."

“I’m fine,” became Vienna's mantra. 

"Fast forward to grad school. I was entering the master's program for marriage & family therapy at Northwestern University, and still serving up a tired narrative that my parents' divorce hadn't affected me. Then, I got my heart broken and realized, ‘Maybe I’m not fine.’ ” 

Vienna and I first met through a mutual girlfriend visiting from LA. Elegant and composed, Vienna has an aura of calm. Over drinks, we talked about our own life experiences and found we had a lot in common. I shared with her that I, like her, grew up in a tumultuous home with divorced parents and an alcoholic mom. Similarly, I learned to contort myself to appease and please those around me. And, I swapped my authenticity for love and attachment. As a result, I became a master of disassociation, blocking out the first 20-plus years of my life—so much so that I’ve forgotten the names of nearly all my friends from high school. Of course, I thought this was normal, but with age, I’ve come to understand that it’s not. Recognizing that my childhood has impacted my life and my romantic relationships is real, in my next life, I must address these things sooner, I think to myself. 

Like so many, it took a romantic relationship to rupture Vienna’s previously impervious facade. Realizing she’d been functioning as an adult the same as she had as a kid, Vienna notes, “The long-term effects of attempting to make everything 'okay' would take years to undo. I learned to shapeshift and shrink in the name of pleasing—a habit I would later have to work tirelessly to overcome if I wanted to have authentic relationships. I feared being controlled so I became controlling. I needed to feel worthy so I made inauthentic connections. And my perpetually unaffected persona hindered me from being vulnerable. I was stuck.”

“When I first started therapy, I didn't see any of this,” Vienna describes. I found myself at odds with people in all aspects of my life, but mostly with people I was dating. Yet, somehow, it never occurred to me that this had anything to do with my childhood—after all, I was ‘fine.’ When I began exploring myself through the lens of my family of origin, I finally became unstuck." 

Now, after practicing as a therapist for over fifteen years, Vienna is one of New York City’s most sought-after relationship experts. The founder of Mindful Marriage and Family Therapy, a group practice, she’s authored The Origins of You, a national bestseller, and recently launched a podcast, This Keeps Happening. So, ya. She knows a thing or two or ten about cultivating healthy relationships. 

"While most of us don't want to hear it, one thing I know for sure is that your past creates patterns that affect your life today.” Vienna lightheartedly offers an example in the intro of her book from Brené Brown’s TEDx talk ‘The Power of Vulnerability’ when she famously tried to set a boundary with her therapist during their first session, “ ‘No family stuff, no childhood shit, I just need some strategies.’ Well, I hate to break it to you, but if that approach didn't work for Brené then it won't work for you either. Because whether you want to admit it or not, the ‘family stuff’ and ‘childhood shit’ are at the root of, well, everything." 

Vienna assures me there IS an upside. Armed with knowledge about our past, we can rewire our programming—it doesn't have to be this way forever. Phew, some good news. 

“When I met my now-husband at a conference in Vancouver, we both came to the table ready.” Pausing momentarily, she continued, “Through healing and practice, I reconditioned myself to choose a partner equally dedicated to doing the work. My outdated notions around romantic relationships had begun to evolve. Instead of insisting I’m ‘okay,’ I learned to be vulnerable. Instead of being a people-pleaser, I learned to honor myself. And instead of trying to control, I learned to let go.”

I could hear her smile through the receiver before finishing their story, "For a year, Connor and I were long-distance—I was living in NY, and he was in Vancouver. The relationship deepened quickly through a combination of focused time together and clear communication when we were apart. A year later, we were engaged, got married, built a house, and started a family. It's been eight wonderful years.”

Of course, I couldn’t help but apply this thinking to my life, past partners, and relationship patterns. I asked Vienna the same question I often ask myself: what does she wish she’d known before getting married? 

“Going into marriage, I had a bit of an unfair advantage considering I’d spent years working with couples to untangle the many challenges people face when trying to make a life with another,” Vienna reflects. “Though I will say this, there will be times in every relationship where one of you will have to lead, and the other takes the back seat. Obviously, the hope is that this evens out long term, but there will inevitably be times in a relationship where one person has less to offer, is more checked out, or just can’t give as much, and it will require the other person to hold the relationship for the other. The idea that both are going to be equally available, equally giving, equally resourced at all times is an idea that will lead us astray.” 

Regarding a healthy romantic relationship, Vienna encourages asking brave questions like, ‘What's it like to be with me right now?’ Big oof. Big bravery. But gosh, if you can open up this line of communication, there’s so much beauty that can be revealed,” she insists. 

Last year, Vienna published The Origins of You. “When I sat down to write the book, I identified the different wounds we as humans can experience: worthiness, belonging, prioritization, trust, and safety.”

“There are things that can build up over time unknowingly,” Vienna explains. “For example, the alcoholic mom who prioritizes her addiction over the child. The workaholic dad who never has time for his kids yet continually promises to take them out for ice cream and never does. These childhood experiences, big and small, play a role in our adult beliefs around how others will show up for us. The bottom line, we need our parents' love to garner a sense of belonging and trust. When you don’t get that as a child, you shapeshift to form connections, and get validation. By acknowledging these experiences, we can better understand their impact on our being and lessen their significance going forward." 

Ugh, I know, as a parent myself, I'm guilty of the “we'll go for ice cream and don't go” example. Are you telling me we’re all just wounding our kids?

“Look, the goal is not to be perfect parents; that's impossible. That said, there are two things we can do: First, the more we reconcile the past, the less it plays out with our children. And second, we must own our imperfections. When we say the wrong thing, drop the ball, miss the opportunity to show up for our kids, or whatever it is, quickly acknowledge it and offer a genuine, heartfelt apology. Kids are looking for that, and it’s entirely within our reach as parents. Perfection is not.”

“And while I don’t work with kids, I do work with adults who have all been children before. Acknowledgement is what we all want. There's something so healing about a parent saying, ‘I’m so sorry, I messed up, I really dropped the ball on this,’ that makes all the difference.”

Recognition applies to all relationships. The “I'm sorry.” The genuine apology. The “I'll work to do better next time.” Being able to say that to one another and your children is profoundly reparative.

Vienna continues, “Healing is ongoing. To heal doesn't mean we’re entirely absolved of our past; it means the charge around something lessens.” Vienna quotes her friend and colleague, Dr. Alexandra Solomon, “ ‘Our wounds and gifts are next-door neighbors.’ What a beautiful reminder that some of our greatest gifts do emerge from the pain we've endured." 

I echoed Nora Ephron’s words for years: “And I survived. My religion is ‘Get Over It.’ ” While that may still be true, I can no longer dismiss my origin story. After all, I would not be here without every experience, good and bad.

Read The Origins of You