It feels crazy to consider someone loving me for who I am, for where I’ve been, and where I want to be in my life. Of course, with that being said-I do love myself most of the time and I’ve come to accept most of my past by chalking it up to life lessons and mistakes. Which technically, by clinical standards is acceptable.
When I felt love (with very few exceptions) it was scary and I immediately flipped a switch to be a different yet the same person. I put a persona out there I was comfortable giving, thus allowing myself to feel safe enough to interact or engage with the person. I felt safe, but it felt political. I was making the best effort to balance between what I thought was supposed to happen and what the person (not me) needed. All while I stood a safe distance away from the persons who cared about me where I could escape or evade when I needed to.
This habit was not just in my personal relationships. This behavior existed during my interactions with family, friends, and colleagues. Up until recently I believed it was because I wouldn’t allow myself to move past the second ring in my circle of trust. However, in the past year I’ve learned that I didn’t know how to reconcile my fear of being in danger(abuse) and feeling safe enough to develop a trust with another human. There were few exceptions made.
Having been taught from early childhood that I was “pretty” or received treats/special attention because someone wanted something from me-which often resulted something that resulted in pain and humiliation. So the logical conclusion was and still is at times, if someone uses kind words and does kind things for me, I’m going to be hurt or humiliated and that I would lose my power and autonomy.
Now I find myself in this new relationship. Which is great because I’ve been able to reconcile most of my demons and allow the person I really am out. However, there are times when the scared little girl rears her head leading the adult woman to feel disjointed. Thus, leading to confusion and at times, an imbalance of control over and in my life.
Now add the recent furlough and feeling weak and vulnerable because of the sense of loss in my identity. Yep. It becomes the complete VIP package for insecurity. The doubts, fears, personal judgements, shame, and the ultimate firework finale of self-destructive behaviors.
Except now it’s different; I’m different. Now I can recognize when the fear creeps in. I can slow it down, put a name to it, let it keep me awake at night, and then write about the demon. Every time I give it a name and take my power back the occurrences become less frequent. Which gives me hope for a day when I can just “be.” One day I won’t feel the need to throw up the wall, lock down my emotions, and pretend I’m always ok.
One day I won’t feel damaged, just slightly dented…
Whiskey Momma 