The things I do know...
And there aren't very many
The burden of being perceived as being super “put together” or knowing “a lot” has historically been something I have taken pleasure in, but I am not sure it suits me anymore.
It always comes with caveats that eventually feel like nooses. I can’t be confused. I can’t be floundering. I can’t be wrong. I can’t ask for or need help. I can’t fuck up. I can’t backtrack. I can’t ask to slow down. I can’t be…soft…human.
Why be curious about me if you perceive I have everything or at the very least will figure everything out? I’ve got it, right? I have got myself when no one else will so I don’t need or want anything.
It feels so unfair to be treated that way.
This past week, I experienced multiple ruptures in relationships. It hurts. I am hurt. I had some less than savory thoughts about myself, but I am attempting to lean into compassion for myself and absolutely for others. We are human.
One of those ruptures was with my therapist. What a tough place to feel hurt and abandoned in arguably thee place that is completely about me and my safety. I definitely spiraled about the experience. How do I tell my therapist that they hurt me? That they were physically there but not emotionally in the way I hoped, in the way I needed them. What a tough time to realize I have to regulate myself when I use that space intentionally to ask for support!
It was so fucking hard. I am crying while I type this because it was so so hard. In my head I know that speaking up for myself is important, that I am worth repair, that conflict does not mean things cannot move forward, that safety can be re-established especially for two people who have been in community and want repair.
But my body is still that terrified child sometimes. Abandoned. Unable to have needs, or shamed for vocalizing them. Approached with conflict instead of curiosity. Shut down at the mention of anything other than perfection. Met with violence when I dared to be a child both seen and heard.
I am saying a lot because part of me needs the reminder too…there is no one in my life currently who has ever, and I believe would ever, abandon me in that way.
The mind body disconnect is still such a challenging place to be in.
But I spoke up. I said something. They are interested in slogging through the repair process, and so am I. I say slog because some days it’s going to feel huge—and others won’t, it is truly an active journey.
I am proud of myself— because if I did it there, I can surely do it elsewhere, right? Despite being terrified and not absolutely solid in how or what—I am solid in want. In curiosity.
I hope to carry that into the other corners of my world in the coming weeks. I am not sure if it’s been the fire of Aries energy that has forced me into positions where I have to parent myself in front of others —which feels embarrassing but—whew. Despite all of that I know I am worth the patience.
And
I am scared. Often. There is regular human fear, there is fear knowing I am coming with so much to every relationship, and there is fear that I am truly all I have—if something were to happen in a second that impacted my ability to work I would quite literally be destitute. That if I didn’t try I wouldn’t have the friendships and communities I have built. That I am far too much for anyone. That I can’t mess up—so that fear should make me—? fearless in some twisted way.
But
I have to do everything scared. That is my reality. I don’t get to choose anything else other than trying. And the most terrifying part is knowing other people may not choose the same. They may not choose to be curious, they may not choose repair. It stops me dead in my tracks to even type that, but I have to learn how to hold that…so I can let it go.
So, no—I don’t know it all, most, or I would argue even a lot of things. But the things I do know are the truest things in the world.
I am worth the fear. I am worth figuring it out, of doing things even when scared. I am worth the time and the curiosity. I am worth the effort. I am worth conflict resolution. I am worth the tough conversations. I am worth asking for and giving forgiveness. I am worth repair. I hold these beliefs about the relationships in my life. And all of that, to me, lives under love—and I am so so so so worthy of all forms of love.
Love, love is a verb. Love is a doing word. Fearless on my breath.
This hits HARD Bee. I admire your honesty so much, and I resonate deeply. I am here for you and am always down to talk about rupture/ repair, one of the hardest things in the world after not always receiving the grace and care from others to repair, even when we often weren't the ones who even caused the rupture.