opposing forces

652345

Am I mixed, or just mixed up? I used to think the answer was the latter, but now I’m not so sure.

Have you ever felt conflicted about the role of people in your life? On one hand, you want to have friends, a romantic partner, and the kinds of close connections you see romanticized in TVs and movies–because we all need people. We need connection. It’s wired into your being. But then, on the other hand, you can’t fight the gnawing feeling that people are selfish and gross, and you want to push everyone away, because people often hurt you, and many times, don’t give a shit about it. Why do I even care? you think. Why bother? People suck. Being alone is better.

Throughout my lifetime, and more acutely in the past two years, I have been shuttling between the two extremes. With all the spiritual and self-work I’ve been doing in those two years, I now find myself firmly in a place where I am experiencing both states frequently and with an awareness I never had before. One moment I am struggling against the hunger and need for people in my life, and in the next moment, I want to shove everyone away because people hurt, they flake, they’re self-focused, they spit on me without care. So again, I think, why should I care?

Yet my current state is made all too clear in context of the past. Enduring emotional abuse. Being bullied at school. Having no safe place, no one to turn to for support at a young age. Struggling with depression as a result. Almost attempting to kill myself by age 11. Living in gray throughout my adolescence, because my family prioritized their own needs and emotional states over mine… the needs of a child. What we grew up with is what we come to believe about ourselves, others, and the way the world works. So my experiences have created within me a stark divide: one side, embedded in my human nature and human wirings, with its need of human connection and a story that has a happy end. And the other side, embedded in the environment I was born into, with people proving themselves time and again as self-focused, unsafe, hurtful, damaging, and unkind. Hence the pull, and the push away.

In my head, I know that there are good people. Kind and selfless people. Others often comment that I am one of those people. But there are days like these when I struggle to fully believe it. People consider themselves above all else. So why bother to be kind? People take it as an invitation to take advantage of you anyway. People still insist on treating you like shit anyway–tossing any concept of reciprocity out the window.

But I also know the answer to my own question. I choose to be kind, because of what I believe, of what I choose to stand for. Because of the kind of person I want to be–regardless of what another says, or does, or how they treat me.

So, no, I don’t think I’m mixed up. I am understandably mixed, two sides that are indeed in apparent opposition… yet still both attached to the same Whole that is Me. I am human. But I am also deeply affected by the environment around me. I am a sensitive soul.

Carl Jung spoke of the individuation process that entails integrating all aspects of our personality in order to become whole. I’m inclined to think that if we are open to it, the universe will give us many opportunities, in the forms of good luck and of conflicts, to become our true, whole selves through our integration. It’s not easy. But believing is what gives me the strength to carry on.

an open letter

313534

You say my vulnerabilities are a warning flag of “emotional instability.” That I am sensitive. You use my emotions against me to prove your created perceptions of me (and your fears) right, using them as evidence for your weak arguments. Arguments, that are tailored only to buffer your fragile ego–while simultaneously putting me, and others around you, down.

Well, let me be perfectly frank with you.

My sensitivity is both a gift, and a curse. While things affect me easily and elicit deeper responses than you may feel comfortable, it also helps me to love and care very deeply, to reach to people in the midst of their pain, to let them feel they are not alone. My passion and vision walk hand in hand with my gift/curse. Yes, I take your words and actions seriously, and I feel them in my heart. But honestly, someone who believes instead that words and actions should be tossed around without care and “taken lightly”–like throwing knives freely around a crowded room–tells me there is something grave to be said about you.

Second point. I am a human being. Which means I hold both strengths, and vulnerabilities. Which means I will not always be consistently happy and perfect all days of the week. For you to use my vulnerabilities against me, again, speaks to your issues and fears. It is easier to judge and criticize another, than it is to face yourself and your insecurities.

And if I may add: I’ve been through a lot of shit. Some very, very tough shit. It is through God’s grace that I am a survivor, and thriver. I have my moments of weakness, and my scars–I will not deny that. But despite everything I’ve been through in my life and despite the struggles that continue to come up, I am standing strong here today, doing what I’m doing and radiating resiliency. I live out my passion with every breath I take. I endure whatever life throws at me and always seek to reap wisdom and knowledge from those experiences. I expand my consciousness with every moment of suffering and despair. I use my experiences to increase my empathy and counsel others. I choose to live with pure authenticity and courage–giving people me and nothing less. I allow the hard times to come like waves, and I fight, and fight, and fight, to hold onto faith, hope and love. I don’t give up. I never give up.

You can make whatever judgments you want, hon. Call me sensitive. Call me a bitch. Call me unstable. Call me whatever you please. Because if this letter does not show you who I truly am and speak to my indisputable strength and solidity, I don’t know what does.

Perhaps you are just too blind to see it.

Lessons You Taught Me

99978

I’m the kind of person who consistently tries to learn from her experiences, even the hellish ones. The kind of person who will dig and dig until a gem of insight is found.

Although you gave me a plethora of scars, I am happy to say that even your hellish treatment did not sway me from my self-growth tendencies. You are still responsible for your actions, and always will be, and I am much relieved that you are an ex in the past, and nothing more. But I am happy to say that I have been able to pull many gems from what happened between us.

Lessons I Learned:

  1. Hard, but healthy choices are the best choices to make. That is my new motto. Hard, but healthy choices only. So even if the path I must choose is full of obstacles and difficulties, and I must face head on with my inner demons, I will choose it, if it ultimately means I will be better off in the grand scheme. Which means, I will not stay in a relationship if it tears me up, or it is falling apart. I come first.
  2. Everyone deserves love, yes, but respect is also a necessary pillar in any kind of relationship. I will not stay if there is no respect, because then I am staying at a house with no walls.
  3. Just because people tell me I am ___, does not mean I truly am ___. Sometimes it can get hard to discern between accepting someone’s observation of you as a hidden piece about you that you may not have recognized, and situations when what people say about you are completely false and more having to do with their own issues and projections. In my mind, it comes to one conclusion–learning to build self-trust and insight, so you can better discern between the two and trust in who you know you are.
  4. Love is not the end to all means, and it will certainly not keep a relationship surviving and thriving. In some cases, it can actually keep you in very bad places (i.e., relationships with domestic violence). Communication. Respect. Honesty. Openness. Empathy. These are only some of many parts that stoke the relationship flames.
  5. Self-compassion is essential. I realized my role in the dysfunctional relationship dynamic, and my participation in it (i.e., giving into your emotional abuse, allowing you to blame me for everything, trying too much). But I realized that if I am to accept myself as a human being, beautiful yet very flawed, it naturally follows that I should show myself compassion. It is understandable why I did the things I did, and said the things I said. And I am learning from my own actions. This is the stuff that fertilizes forgiveness, both toward myself and to others.
  6. I have to have standards. Yes, there is such a thing as having ridiculously high standards. But having low standards, or none at all, is just as bad, if not worse. I have to value myself. I have to not only see, but honor my worth. I am important. And I deserve to be treated with love and respect, always. And I deserve to have boundaries when I am not.
  7. There will always be a rather large measure of life that remains unpredictable. One day, I may think things will turn out one way, or that you are the one. The next day, I will find something else, or discover that you were very wrong for me. I used to fight against the chaos and unknown of life, and at times I still do, but I’ve made it a practice to work on accepting this undeniable fact of life. Acceptance brings peace and calm… because I remind myself that even in the chaos, things will ultimately turn out the way it is meant to be.
  8. Not all relationships will last, but that’s okay. Love convinces us when we’re in it that no, this it is, this is the one. But sometimes we do this to our detriment, putting all our energy into making a failing relationship work. But we don’t need to do that to ourselves. All we have is this present moment, and that’s it. We can cherish the love we have in the moment. Maybe there will come a day when the love will be gone and we grow unhappy, or a day when that feeling of love will grow even stronger. #7 makes it so that we can never be sure. But as I am dating now, this lesson is very loud and clear in my head. I feel something with this person, it feels really good, but no need to go into future-predicting. Let the path unfold. And see what the Universe brings to your table. It is what it’s meant to be.
  9. Be with someone who will see you for all that you are, in your weaknesses and all your beauty and glory–and cannot conceive of wanting someone else… someone who treats you like the wonderful being you are. Be with someone who will put in their share of work to keep you in their life, because there is no question in their mind that you are worth it.
  10. I believed when we broke up that I would not find someone better than you. I found the phrase, “There’s more fish in the sea” too cliche to believe.  But standing where I am today, with a new potential ahead in the horizon, patiently waiting, I realize that I was in error. There are better, much better, out there in the wide expanse around me–people are so unique, complex and different, that of course this is the case. I have living proof standing in front of me at this moment that there are better. Perhaps you may be better for another some day, but you were worse for me. I am happy to move on.
  11. Last but not least, never, ever let anyone take who you are, or take your identity. This means rejecting statements that don’t resonate as true for you, or allowing yourself to be consumed by a relationship. Build a life separate from others, an identity with roots deep in the uniqueness and power of you–all the while, sharing that lovely uniqueness with the ones you love.

coping through life’s ripples

95322

I woke up today an emotional mess, bombarded with static thoughts–but the one thought that stuck to wall was, look how much he fucked me up.

At that point, my mind boarded on that thought train. Before I used to be so open and willing to show my emotions and love. But after my ex scarred me the way he did, I’m so scared to. I’m so on edge that every guy that comes along will do what he did–take advantage of me, blame me for everything, shame me for who I am, emotionally abuse me, disregard me. Now at the get-go, I’m distant and hesitant. He totally fucked me up.

But then, my wise mind challenged me. Is the blame all his though? Certainly he is still at full fault for his actions… but look how far you’re internalizing how he treated you. It’s bled into your whole worldview. But is the whole entire world like your ex?

The answer to that is pretty clear.

Today’s emotional roller whirlwind has shown me how much pride I take in keeping myself contained and together. How much I play the counselor role, the old soul everyone goes to for insight or advice. I am uncomfortable with my own emotional gunk. I provide everyone with love and acceptance for their gunk–but I cannot say that I do the same for myself. That’s perhaps why I had put up with my ex for as long as I did.

At this very moment, I feel pushed up against my own humanity–against the part of me that is scarred and in deep pain from the depths of my past, from my recent ex to my childhood. The part of me that is a bundle of anxiety and a dense well of depression. The part of me that wants to know right away and figure everything out now, rather than submit to the unknown. The part of me that needs human connection so bad, it hurts. The part of me that fears that need, of getting hurt, or losing what and whom I love.

Although I understand that people are not perfect, that those we love can and very well will hurt us, that we will all experience grief and loss at some point, it does not dull away the pain. It does not take the pang of its influence away. It does not still the ripples as it rolls across the surface of our hearts. One of the books I read said that grief is the most complex and difficult human experience. I completely understand why. I am always looking for resolutions to things, but this is one arena where resolution struggles to come to light. I’m beginning to see that maybe the goal in grief is not necessarily to find resolution.

I miss the good aspects of my ex, yet feel so much anger and hurt for the destruction he left inside of me. I thought I was done months ago, but here I stand, still picking up the pieces, still scrubbing his toxicity away. The whole world is not like him. All guys are not him. That I can absorb. But still, I watch the drops fall and the ripples fan across the water–feeling them shiver through my being.

Oftentimes, I try to leave my blog posts on an uplifting message or pearl of wisdom, but today, I find myself more inclined to end on authenticity. There are still too many pieces that don’t make sense. Too many parts that still need healing. I don’t have everything figured out. But I am, at the very least, willing to learn to be okay with that.

the curse of exes

08432

I was on a date last night and in the middle in the date, I found myself, in the back of my mind, comparing the person to my last ex. Mentally, I took a step back–woah, what the heck are you doing?

I felt guilty, because I am a firm believer of recognizing each person by their individuality, their own uniqueness. Even when people have similar issues or patterns, there are still things about them that set them uniquely apart from others. So I try not to typecast people. I try not to project my own past experiences onto others.

But as I sat with this new guy, I thought in my head, my ex was different than this. He was more flirty and affectionate. But this guy is still just as hesitant and withdrawn in some ways. And I started missing my ex. I missed the physical connection we had, the affection he gave, the good parts of him.

Just like with any kind of grief and loss experience, I guess there will still be moments where you will miss what you lost, even when you feel you’ve moved on. With that said, I am still acutely aware of my ex’s flaws and all the negativity and toxicity he held. Things are still better the way that it is–in no circumstances do I want him back.

But I found myself struggling. I know this new guy is his own person, and I need to allow him to speak for himself and show me who he truly is. But my past and all the feelings attached murk up the water and make it harder for me to see clearly.

As nice as this new guy is, he does not seem as affectionate as I would like and appears to want to take things extra slow. I took an Uber home, and I ended up talking to the driver about my date–she told me in our conversation, “Don’t wait around for a guy. I made that mistake, I thought eventually he would change, but I ended up waiting for 6 years. You’re single. Date around. Don’t wait too long, you’re worth more than that.” I felt like the Universe was speaking to me then. It was exactly what I needed to hear.

I think this is what I would call the “curse of exes.” Even if you know better, you’ll sometimes find yourself comparing the person in front of you to who you were with in the past, or to your past. Maybe it’s out of protection or fear, or out of grief and loss, or perhaps even as a signal that what you’re getting now is not enough for your needs. I’m still trying to figure it out myself, but what I can say at this juncture, is that it’s okay to feel what you feel. And maybe there is merit in holding space for both opposing forces–like recognizing your ex had good, as well as egregiously bad, qualities. That you can recognize that the person in front of you is most certainly different, but they may trigger something in you, speak to your own unique experiences.

As I always say, it is what it is. And people are the way they are.

necessary loss

135477

The concept of “necessary loss” has been revolutionary to me recently. Loss is rarely present without a web of complexity–in not only the grief, but the other emotions that arise, depending on the kind of loss you’re experiencing.

This is not to say all losses are necessary. Losses cannot be generalized that way. But, there are some kinds of loss that may end up falling in the “necessary” category.

I’m reflecting on this, because my life this year has had the overarching theme of “loss.” I did not only lose my romantic partner; I am losing my two current jobs in lieu of a new full-time job I will be starting in two weeks. I am losing clients I have worked with for at least 2-3 years as a result of my leaving. On a personal front, I have been losing all kinds of friends, and even parts of myself.

This is where the necessary part comes in.

When the loss of my ex first started everything off, I was feeling anxious and depressed, in addition to grief. When more losses rolled in, I felt overwhelmed. But now that I am at the end of the year and at a place where I can see all of this more clearly,  I realize that despite the turmoil and struggle, some of those losses were/are needed.

My ex? He was narcissistic and emotionally abusive. My job? Toxic environment and I’ve hated working there the past 10 months. My best friend? He’s been MIA the entire year, and it’s not too much to ask to want a best friend who is present more than 20% of the time. My other best friend? She’s more concerned with getting emotional support than giving it. Other friends and acquaintances I’ve chosen to not engage with anymore? More concerned with meeting their own selfish needs. The part of me that feels compelled to give at the expense of herself, making herself invisible in order to make space for others? Well, it’s because of that part I got into the aforementioned mess in the first place. It’s no longer serving a good purpose–in actuality, that part of myself is harming me a great deal more than helping.

My therapist brought up the term “blessed subtractions,” and I think it’s very fitting for my current life’s circumstances. It’s a blessing that I am no longer in an abusive relationship with a narcissist. It’s a blessing that I found a new job, even if it means building a new normal. It’s possibly a blessing that my clients will be getting a new therapist–that new person may give them something I may not have been able to give. It’s a blessing that I’m losing the friends I’m losing, because I need friends who can reciprocate support, love, and care–and not expect me to do all the work. It’s my responsibility to give myself what I need, and to trim out what’s not working.

Letting go has never been easy for me. It could be because I lost my father when I was fifteen, or the fact that I grew up never given emotional support from my family. Maybe both. I’ve been fearful of the grief and being consumed by it. But learning to let go is an essential skill of life… I’m only now just learning. Because there are fates worse than grief–like being stuck in a life of perpetual gray and unhappiness, or settling for abuse and emotional starvation. Grief and loss are tough, I know all too well. But all feelings pass. No exceptions.

And perhaps you’ll find that once you’ve let go of some of the unnecessary sacks you’ve been carrying, you’re free to pick up something new. Something better. I put my hopes in that.

 

for an open mind

                            how_to_break_the_ice_at_a_party

I went to a friend’s party last weekend, and as I sat with a group of people I didn’t know and had little interests in common with, I was struck with the thought of how big our world seems to be in our heads, but how small it is in the scheme of things, especially in the eyes of an “outsider.”

We expect others to “match” our conception of things, that much of compatibility, whether we are brave enough to admit to it or not, is really about how much a person “fits” into our small world. In truth, it is our egocentric tendencies as humans at their best. As I mulled it over, I realized how much we end up missing when we constantly gauge people by how they match us, and only converse or connect to those who are like us. It’s rigid, and confining.

Instead, what if we opened our hearts and minds, and attempted to truly get to know the other person and acquaint ourselves with their world? What if we all did this? Perhaps we would have more friends, or be more inspired, or discover the beauty and diversity of the human experience in a fuller manner. Confines only leave us feeling unsatisfied and empty and longing for more… yet we cannot discern “the more” without venturing out of our tiny space and considering possibilities outside our knowledge and experiences.

There’s so much beauty out there, and we end up missing most of it by expecting the world to be like we want it to be. There’s something to say about sticking to what you know, but I’d dare argue that there is also something to open-mindedness and broadening yourself to outside your comfort zone.