Beautifully Vulnerable

Yesterday I Threw A Party

Me, my doubts, insecurities and the unknowns were the only ones invited and I, in some desperate attempt to see things differently, involved my husband in my discontented projections. He really wasn't ignoring me, though that's what I opened the conversation with, actually he was giving me what I needed, space.

When Did It Begin?

I often find myself asking this question, because, really there was some event, some moment that I didn't take too much notice of that had me falling into myself, unwilling, but mostly, unable to see something other than what I could. Asking this question allows me to start peeling back the layers, where I find richness, a delicate beauty of truth and a lot of trying NOT to go there.

The Creation of Space

When bedtime came two nights ago, I had this idea in my head about the way things are supposed to be and upon waking I realized they weren't and I wanted it to be different. Time was spent in thought, forming words around the experiences that were now haunting me. And I wrote into the unnameable, into the reactions, the patterns, the concerns. Along with this drudge of misplaced expectations, in the peeling back, I found I'd uncovered raw nerves and I simply stopped writing and talking and doing.

Looking back, here is where I would have been gentler on myself. I would have acknowledged what was going on, where I was and the depth in which it brought me into my self-created rabbit hole. And that I would have allowed myself to have the courage to write my way around it, into it and finally out of it. To see it for what it really was. (Hindsight is great into providing a light on a moment that was so dark, though that didn't help yesterday.)

I've done this before, both the going into this space inside of myself that is so raw and vulnerable, that in peeling back the layers, I discovered truth and was able to do something with it. I could write. I could change how I respond next time and forgive myself for how I behaved last time. (But I didn't want to see anything differently yesterday.)

Avoidance

In the next few hours, my cats cuddled with me as I watched something unremarkable on tv and basked in the warm glow of the Christmas tree. I wanted distractions, anything expect exploring that which was really affecting me. My attention span wavered and I found myself bouncing between shows as quickly as my head was bouncing around ideas. Nothing worked though, because it wasn't what I really needed, none of it was. And somewhere, (maybe deep down?), I knew that too.

The silence in the house was broken, while my head stirred with bountiful thoughts. On top of telling myself all the things I "should be" doing, I added comments about my body, my healing, my pauses. And somewhere in the seemingly unending conversation, through tear stained cheers I whispered, "I don't know how to do this."

By "THIS" I mean - how do I pull myself out of my head and into my experience? How do I acknowledge what is going on for me? How do I BE in it and with it? Somehow I started to think I was "doing it wrong" and I needed a really good cry.

Be In It

A gentler love started rising and the judgmental foe began to be seen for what it really was. My husband, the person I asked to be by my side, surrounded me with patience. The reminder that somewhere in this I'd forgotten how to give myself love. Questions came forward, as if he knew the exact words that would allow me to see the door before me. These words sounded familiar and I pictured myself whispering them to dear friends' hearts as they were in their "it" and I stood by. (Today I wonder why I couldn't do this for myself, I was just too in it, I suppose).

An agreement among my husband and I (though it's really a silent one through seven years of marriage, we've come to support.) In my attempt to name it, here it is:

"Don't fix 'it' for me,
help me to start seeing 'it' more clearly." 

The conversation stops being about what the person on the outside can do to resolve 'it' and more about how they can support the person in 'it'.

The Vulnerability

I saw that behind a doorway there is sadness at how I'd left a relationship. I felt into the sadness as much as I could. Because I know where there once was love and trust, I got hurt, didn't express myself, didn't forgive and abandoned the relationship.

I saw that in this, regardless of the other person, I was damaging the most important relationship, my relationship with myself. By not being able to be by my own side, I abandoned what I thought was "too tough" or "too much" and walked away. And before I can begin to reconcile with others, time spent in forgiveness, with myself, is essential.

And I realized within the darkness of my self-created rabbit hole, that I could stay stuck in the bottom and I could remain unwilling to move forward and allow this to define me. Or I could allow this awareness of myself to be a lesson and: I could learn from it.

I saw that in forgiveness, a new path opens for me, one that includes a mending of the heart. And that I can ask for support and be loved. But something new happened, something I'd touched on from a distance, and now was holding in my arms. Others can be by my side and surround me with support. Though I am the only one who lives in this space and no one else knows what this is like, so it is my duty, my obligation, no, really, it's my GIFT to myself is to be: beautifully vulnerable.

~ ~ ~

There is more, underneath the surface and I'm not ready to share it, to write into what keys may open these new doorways and all of this is ok. I'm doing what I can and in this moment, I'm being gentle with myself. There is something with my physical weight transformation and the emotional journey that has followed. There is something with my opposition to exercise and that the day I stopped was because a raw moment shook me to my core. There is something with my healing journey and the pauses I've taken. And there is something in the choices I make. And today, I'm going to do my best to share this.