So I’m visiting this mental health facility today, testing a student. Steven walks me to the back of this beautiful place. Hallways look a little like a maze, some high ceilings, most rooms smacking of afterthought and haphazard building design. Continue reading “This School tho”
“It’s unbelievable how many ppl carry this around with them and then all of the sudden come out with – I was sexually abused as a kid. They go their whole life, carrying it around and never say anything”. Continue reading “Shhhhhh”
Only write the pretty things. Speak in pretty tones, pretty word choice. Somehow REAL is no longer cool. Intolerable. Honesty must be extinguished, slaughtered alongside her sister, authenticity. Continue reading “Only Pretty Allowed Here”
Prepare for the worst, second guessing what will happen, what others will say/do. When I find myself caught up in the worry about a situation… yes, these old patterns still linger.
Continue reading “Old Patterns Up For Grabs…”
How do we know when we’ve arrived? When we’ve matured? Growned up? 😂 It’s been a long time coming – like 50 years long. I found myself involved in a group conversation yesterday and 4 women were sharing their identity theft experiences. I knew I had the mother of all tales. These women love to talk, spewing their words into the air like throwing confetti hoping to hit a target. Some peices landing where intended. Others scattering about, disappearing into the room like snowflakes on warm pavement. Talking, sharing, for the sake of talking, sharing.
I, feeling the internal bulldozer push to share, to say something to top their stories- completely self servingly and ego based – said nothing. WHATT? Me? Story-teller ME? Holding back? Didn’t give into the forces of EGO and cram my experience into these listening beings? Well no, no I didnt. But, but I’m so fucking good at it. I am quite the entertainer and very charming 😑…Instead, I made the conscious choice to sit and listen to what was shared. It was clear that I might possibly have been the ONLY one listening that’s for sure. I observed all four of them perched on their haunches, waiting for a pause through which to interject their story. Not comment or question or otherwise entertain another’s offering- just forge ahead with how important THEY were. Blindly, single trackedly, gushing many details. Sprinkling in some theatrics.
What is it about being heard? We’re all so desperate to have a connection. May it be bourne from “I feel invisible” “I don’t matter” “I don’t have a right to be here” “I’m not ok”? Whatever your specific brand of bull-shit self doubt, self loathing – with enough self work, inner healing, counciling, body work, etc.. working through the shadow/darkness (patterns we use to adapt to a less than perfect upbringing) we CAN turn things around. We can be there for OURSELVES and not expect others to fill in our missing pieces. And not expect other to fill in what’s missing in our lives. Not expect others to SAVE US.
I sat, and retreated inward. Deeply. Even though outward appearances appeared as though I was listening intently (survival 101 as a child-I got an A+ 😡). To a place I found a wise woman. A higher self within me who was able to, in the moment, be IN this conversation but as an observer at the same time. Letting go of the pressure to perform. Pressure to make people like me. Pressure to entertain. One-up. Dazzle. My ego was prob pissed, starved, lonely, deflated…as I sat, a really good listener. I was quiet, seemingly uninvolved, aloof, passive…. all of the things I was forced to be as a child. God forbid I show some light, enthusiasm and BRAINS!!!! Someone would have felt challenged. And that would have been very bad for me as a kid.
So as I sat, some old patterns arose. Of course! The push to gush my story of identity theft all over everyone. But instead, I sat, and let WORTHLESS, FEAR, PRESSURE, ANXIETY wash over me. Feeling accomplished. Able to DISCERN. Keep my mouth shut and make a conscious decision to talk or not.
I think the most ironic nugget is that didn’t we, as trauma/abuse survivors, experience identity theft as children? Very early in life someone(s) ran off with who we came here to be. Outright stole our identity and we had to pick another one. Put a different face on. And here we are scratching through the forest floor, looking for remnants of who we are. Retrieving parts lost, uncovering the light with the dark. Finding really cool things about ourselves. Aligning with others who really SEE us, the real us. Life-Lock identity protection-like.
Everyday there are lessons to be learned. Interesting ways the Universe configures to allow us the opportunity to heal (or not). I always live by these simple words… Life is happening FOR us, not TO us. I believe Tony Robbins is quoted saying that 💜Ahhhh. Discernment. Welcome my newest friend.
We’ll do anything for a good Mom. When there was so much wrong in our childhoods, we need, now, to reparent ourselves and get what we’ve missed.
Bringing loving kindness to ourselves. Validation. Safety. Feeling comfortable really , deeply being seen. Celebrating our Aliveness. Feeling worthy.
Gift yourself these. Get whatcha need. Fill those holes. Anyways.
Picture credit to 9Gag.com