#vulnerablewarrior

There is a balance I haven't found A way of being I'm not sure how to be I don't even know if it's meant for me But I try and I try to fit in the world Just so you can simply see, this is me

I have this out of body experience whenever I am vulnerable. It's like I'm speaking another language, an alien to this planet, and in unknown territory. I can tell you so clearly what happened to me, why I am the way I am, what I've done to heal, but when I am authentically me I tremble. It's not the speaking of the past or how I felt growing up, it's how I feel now. Terrified, simply terrified that I will never find the balance to be understood, to be seen. 

I was born this bright little girl, with a very clear purpose from a young age. I became conditioned to the idea that my bright light needed to be protected at all costs. Never show anyone how you feel. Don't say you're scared, don't say you're mad, and never, ever, say you are hurt. Just smile and always consider your surroundings, other's feelings, and their needs. It is not safe for me to express myself, to say what I really think. After years of projected and misplaced outbursts, I've realized how damaging it can be to keep everything inside. So I started talking about how I really felt, what it was really like for me. Slowly I began to open up, but never in the moment, only about things that have passed. And even speaking of my experiences from years ago, I can become overwhelmed with emotion. 

To speak in the moment about how I feel seems impossible. I literally leave my body when I try. I feel like I am on fire and having a heart attack. I want to be at ease with sharing how I feel in the moment, but it's so tense and rigid every time. Even when I'm trying to express positive emotions, sometimes those are even more difficult to share. 

Since I've developed a habit of keeping things inside, I feel compelled to try and address certain feelings right away. I don't even take a breath, I just dive in and start sharing. As I do this, it's like a match is lit and I am burning and screaming, and just not who I want to be. Sometimes people say, you should let things breathe a moment, which sounds good, but for me feels like a bad habit. If I let it breathe, I won't ever say it. However, because I am having an out of body experience, I never actually express how I feel. It comes out like a person screaming because they are on fire, rather than what I really want to say. And then if they push back at all, I default to a warrior protective mode and I've perfected being a fierce and sharp communicator. I often end up hurting them deeply, in my attempt to protect myself. And then I'm left wondering if it's worth it to express myself. I hurt so deeply whenever I cause pain to others. I know who I am and I know my heart is kind, so it's a disappointment when I don't let that show. It's like I've betrayed myself. Just like learning dance steps, I can see them, understand the counts, but sometimes it doesn't translate to my body. 

Aligning my soul with my spirit, my heart with my mind, my feelings with my words, this is my work. I'm writing this because I believe we all feel this at times. My hope is that we find compassion for ourselves so that we may have compassion for others. That we can hold space for our feelings and the feelings of others. May we pour water on each other to put out the little fires of inauthenticity and work to understand what is in the ashes left behind. Continuing on my journey and beyond grateful for the souls that have experienced my fire, and choose to love me, even when I won't let them see me. Peace & love xoxo

The most impactful day during quarantine was the day I used three spoons. 

I have always been a minimalist and mindful of taking up space. To many, it seemed extreme, and yet it’s all I know. From how I pack a bag for travel; always having everything perfectly in place and priding myself on bringing as little as possible. To having nearly no furniture, trinkets, or home furnishings. When staying as a guest, often my host would say, “it’s like we don’t even know you’re here, it’s okay to unpack if you would like.” Each time I heard something like that, my stomach would drop at the thought of taking up too much space. 

Growing up I would use the same dish for everything. I would never use a bowl for salad and a plate for the main course. To this day, I make a salad and eat it before having my pasta in the same bowl. We never had a full set of dishes or matching silverware. It was all a mix of thrifted & gifted items. 

I still don’t have a full set of kitchenware, but I do have a full set of silverware, including ten spoons. Recently, thanks to quarantine, I’ve been experimenting with cooking. One of my favorites is vegan tacos. I have all the fixings; lettuce, tomatoes, rice, seitan, black beans, guacamole, dairy free sour cream & cheese. For several weeks I would make this dish and use one spoon to scoop all of the fixings, just wiping it between each scoop. Using the corner of a paper towel ripped off, and then use the remaining for my meal. One day I thought, does everyone do this? I quickly answered myself knowing that mostly, everyone does not. 

I am grateful for my mindfulness and living an eco-conscious life, however there is a deep emotion attached to this behavior that has nothing to do with the environment. 

It wasn’t until we were placed on a Stay at Home order, that I began to contemplate why I am a minimalist. I realized, my need to use as little as possible, is directly related to my need to express as little as possible. 

Most of my life, I never said how I felt and even today I struggle with expressing present moment emotions. It’s taken me over thirty years to start to express how I felt about things from long ago. 

Now that I have created a safe space, I am doing my best to let myself unpack, and fully live. So I started with using three spoons. I made my vegan tacos and pulled out 1, 2, 3 spoons to scoop fixings. And I cried and cried, because it was the first time I ever let myself use more than necessary, just so I could be a little more comfortable. In my own home, in my own space, all by myself, it was still the first time! Even as I’m writing these words, tears are streaming. I’m so excited to live and be free. 

Although quarantine might feel limiting, it’s where I’m finding my freedom. 

May we all find some freedom within. 

They say leave the past in the past, but they never say what to do when it creeps up and haunts you. 

Haunted is the best way I can describe how I’ve been feeling lately. It’s as if the tragedies of my life flashed before my eyes and reminded me of all the pain. I experienced it all over again, in every last cell of my body. All the way down to the biting of my tongue. “Stay silent, do not add to the troubles, and fight like hell to gain control”

I think they call these moments “triggers”. I thought I had experienced triggers before, but nothing has haunted me in this way. It’s a very strange feeling. I’m experiencing everything all over again, but this time with much more wisdom. It’s like having a second chance to re-process the pain. I go back and forth between reverting to my teenage survivor self and my enlightened vulnerable self. I remember how I responded to these traumas. I walled up, I poured myself into dance, and became a perfectionist, always in control. I used people, I let them use me, and then I hurt them with vicious words. I didn’t tell anybody about it. I couldn’t even say out loud that I was in pain. I was always “strong”.

Having this blessing of a trigger haunting me, gives me the greatest opportunity I’ve ever had...I get to re-write my story. I get to cry, I get to say I’m hurt, I get to feel all of the pain. When I was younger, I couldn’t do this, things were unsafe and I had to survive. And I did! Greatly because, I was a walled up warrior. My past habits of refusing to feel pain, allowed me to survive. But now, I’m safe. Now I don’t need to worry about survival, I get to live!

“I did not survive to be untouched”

Surviving was step one, living is my next chapter. In order to live fully, I have to feel all the feels, including the painful memories that haunt me. I have to cry myself to sleep, I have to acknowledge my pain and I have to vulnerably share with people in my life how I truly feel. I’m grateful for all the tough moments that taught me courage, the same courage I use when I choose to be vulnerable. Someone once asked what scares me the most. My answer was, “holding hands”. And I truly meant that, but what I was really scared of was feeling anything and being seen. I’m not scared anymore, I’m ready to feel every moment of my life vulnerably and with an open heart. I’m ready to be seen fully, hauntings and all. 

I’m embracing this chapter and excited to have a choice in how I process my pain this time around. I’m proud of myself, I’ve worked hard to have this chapter of my life. And I’m looking forward to what’s in store for my new book of life. May we all remember that we get to write our story, we get to use erasers, we get to scratch things out, and tear out pages that no longer serve our story. Our characters get to develop and grow, and ultimately we can choose to live happily ever after.