So did I.
Dear God, here I am again.
This prayer has felt like defeat in my life. No matter which successes or achievements I have enjoyed, there is a hollow place that isn't filled, not by faith, not by people, not by anything. That place tells me that I am not enough. I am flawed. I can't keep up the charade of consistency and no matter how disciplined or amazing I am, that I can't fix the deep parts of myself which means that the rest of my life is somehow a lie.
Here I am again.
Throughout my adult life, I have gotten myself in situations that I have needed to exit or even just not begin. Relationships that fed my loneliness for a time or affirmed me in some way, jobs that weren't quite right for the season I was in, decisions that I followed even though I knew they were wrong, and exciting selfish spontaneous choices that were disastrous for me and my loved ones. These always resulted in me making drastic life changes that seem shocking to everyone around me, except those who know me best.
However, it's not until I am deeply entrenched in a path that isn't for me that I'm able to viscerally FEEL that I need to change direction. In large decisions, I am able to trust my gut, public opinion or hurts be damned. Maybe it's the Holy Spirit, maybe it's a deep deep knowing of what is right and wrong for me, but either way, I have always followed it eventually, but only always AFTER going along with enthusiasm for a period of time and leaving a large mess in my wake.
For years I thought I was a 4 on the Enneagram chart, led by my heart and desires.
Not only do I not lead with my heart (I lead with my mind), I am deeply afraid of feeling any discomfort or pain. I completely disconnect my feelings or numb them. I need to be engaged and challenged and distracted. In doing this, I wholeheartedly convince most of the people around me that I love whatever I am currently doing, as long as I don't have to deal with MYSELF.
I think this probably started as a teenager, coping with my younger brother's death. After feeling the intense pain, grief, and loss that his absence caused both personally and in my family, I started numbing my feelings with food. I developed bulimia but never acknowledged it or addressed it and continued to "function" outside of it. I got good grades, I played sports, I even spent a year in France after high school. I felt independent and confident externally but all the while, I needed to binge and purge to continue to be "okay" with everyone else. Over my life, I have struggled with this disease in times of stress or change. I didn't realize I was numbing my feelings of loneliness, worry, sadness, or anything I was feeling. I just knew that the urge to do this horrible soul-discouraging thing was unbeatable and that I was ashamed and defeated by it but continued to do it. I didn't trust my instincts because my self preservation said, "Don't feel bad things." and there was no room for instincts in numbness.
So every time in life when the overpowering knowing of not being on the right path finally got through the numbness and shook me, I would stop and change direction. It seemed sudden and insane to everyone else because I was generally GOOD at whatever I was focused on and enthusiastic about my role. I have always liked using my gifts but I couldn't sustain the enthusiasm when I started acknowledging the knowing deep inside that it's not the right thing for me. Instead of recognizing this cycle so I could make better future choices, I felt flighty or lazy or dishonest. I wasn't good at exiting situations with integrity and honesty because it felt like there was no real explanation for my overpowering need to leave. I also didn't grow in my ability to assess whether or not something was right for me BEFORE I found myself deeply in it and feeling that panic.
Four years ago, after exiting my career in teaching (which I know was the right thing for me to do even though I didn't do it in a good way), I started a fun creative project with Deena, a friend I love and respect deeply. We took our love for style and clothing to social media and that somehow developed into a local community and women's clothing store. Belong Lifestyle became a safe place for women to examine their own relationships to their bodies and express themselves in their own personal style. Our little accidental business flourished and we both used our different and complimentary gifts together to continually grow our friendship, our brand, and our business.
But deep down, I began to feel like a fake. One of my deepest desires is to truly belong in my body. I want it for myself as much as I want it for every woman I meet. I want it for my kids. I want it for your kids. Sometimes I would think I got there, but returning to numbing my feelings with food kept making that impossible. Even as Deena and I developed an entire community around belonging, I didn't FEEL like I belonged as a representative of this important message and while I love fashion as a creative outlet, it wasn't of central importance in my life or what I felt like I should be most focused on.
Being in my body and trying on clothes and sharing looks and words around important topics became a sort of messed up prison for me. I tried to share my own struggles honestly and I continued to pour my energy into the work. The words were a representation of what I WANTED for myself so much, but being an ambassador of body neutrality wasn't what I was meant to be doing publicly.
I couldn't figure out why my own personal writing and thoughts became difficult to formulate. I just drew a blank every time I sat down. I told myself it was because of the energy it takes to lead an important business, the depletion that happens when there's too much time engaging on social media. There just wasn't anything left over, but really, I think it's because the incongruence between my personal struggles I was numbing and the public image I was living was immobilizing. I had to shut it down to function. This wasn't me acting or being insincere. I honestly couldn't recognize this in myself.
I believe in the good and important work happening at Belong. It's vital and it's real. It is hugely important and meaningful but none of that stopped my own inside mess from taking over. Ever since I realized how bad pain feels in my teens, I have lived my whole life with a twisted belief that even though everyone else can and should show up as their authentic selves and be loved and valued, that my true self was broken. I can't fix it so the best I can do is act like the person I truly want to be, while coping how I can. This didn't feel inauthentic. It didn't feel like a lie. It felt like what I have needed to do every day my whole life to act like who I want to be.
And what I DIDN'T want to be was the poster board for belonging in my body and preaching it to other women. I was actively struggling every day but unable to face it, to name it or to express it, never mind think about fixing it. I felt deeply flawed with no chance of change.
Every year, Deena, my business partner, would affirm my gifts and encourage me to use them however I wanted as she worked tirelessly, and every year, I couldn't explain my reluctance to accept that I was valuable and important to the work we were doing or my inability to really commit to it fully or even acknowledge that it was my business too. It wasn't imposter syndrome in the way that she thought; it was my own heart screaming at me that I needed help. That I wasn't okay. That I needed to be honest with myself first. I didn't hear that though and I'm sure she didn't either, because I am an expert at distraction and numbing while believing that I am being transparent and authentic. I couldn't understand the turmoil inside of myself or the disconnect between my feelings and my job. I couldn't even see it. So instead, my body just got so loud that I knew I had to step away but couldn't explain it.
So I did.
Here I am again.
I felt better about it than all other break-ups (work or life-wise) I had instigated. Although I know it was out of the blue and felt like a slap in the face, I expressed that I needed to leave. There were no lies or excuses. There was a timeframe of 5 months with structured steps instead of sudden abandon. Regardless, it caused (and likely will continue to cause) deep stress and hurt to my friend and a huge strain on an amazing business, all while I still couldn't even explain what the hell was actually going on.
I was not wrong to leave and I wasn't wrong to state that. As weird and hard as the last months have been, I know it's the right decision for both of us longterm. But I was wrong to continue from the start in an enthusiasm that wasn't right for my heart and to not understand and express what I really needed and what mattered to me before it came to an abrupt ending with a huge impact on both of us and on the business.
That brings me to today. I am 40 years old and I am only starting to be able to trust that I can face myself and that I have to. I have to practice feeling discomfort and staying put. l have to be able to be vulnerable to become the person I want so desperately to be instead of just acting it out. I have to learn to pause and feel before jumping in. To listen before speaking. I need to practice feeling the feelings until my body believes I can survive them. I need to recognize my instincts before my body is in full alarm.
Even though I have struggled with bulimia, anxiety, perfectionism, masking and depression since my brother passed away when I was 13, I truly didn't think it was fixable. In fact, I accepted a lot of the symptoms I exhibit as personality traits, never realizing that there is a pattern of thinking and behaviour that accompanies these problems for many people. I just believed that these disorders were who I am (which made them insurmountable) rather than a way of thinking that can be challenged and re-ordered.
The reality is so deeply discouraging. It's like I could see the effects, I could feel the damage and the burden of my choices but I couldn't fix it. I felt the shame and the after-effects of every life change, but told myself I was lazy or flighty or selfish. I believed that I couldn't be trusted so I was scared to face myself. If I found the courage to stop and look at how much was broken but couldn't solve it, then that would actually be unbearable. I couldn't handle what it said about the person I really am compared to the person I so desperately want to be.
Both stepping away from Belong and recognizing that I can appear as a fully functioning human (to the external world) while being a barely coping human with those who matter most to me were catalysts in feeling desperate enough to get help. To do this, I recently started seeing a therapist for the first time in my adult life. Taking away the buffers of public affirmation and people pleasing meant that I wasn't busy ignoring my numbing habits. Being quiet enough to face the fact that I was now using alcohol in addition to food to numb myself and that I felt powerless to stop binging on either, caused me to finally acknowledge out loud that I can't fix these parts of myself. I have to face that I've spent half a lifetime trapped by my own distractions and numbing habits.
Despite an amazing life of privilege, education, incredible relationships, life experiences, and a family I am thankful for every single day, I spent the last 27 years numbing my feelings to avoid feeling discomfort. How insanely ridiculous is that? And I'm sharing that with you. Not to justify my past actions or make amends somehow or narrate my fucked-up-edness, but because I think it's important to tell the truth as we discover it, about ourselves and about life.
So here I am again.
After 40 years on this planet, I am learning to sit through my feelings instead of numbing them.I want to believe that I can give myself the grace and love that is available for everyone else and as I do, I am learning to trust myself. I want to be known as gentle, not critical, with my people and with my own body and my own heart. Maybe I can only face these truths now because this is the first time in my life that I am able to actually believe how safe and loved I truly am. From my kids and husband to my sister and family, to my good good friends to my relationship with a loving God, I truly FEEL safe and loved. This was always true but I couldn't believe it or rest in it because those messages got all tangled in the words I was constantly speaking to myself.
This morning, I walked Lola and listened to this episode of Glennon Doyle's podcast. If you have the time, listen to it. While we have different philosophies and life experiences, it was incredibly powerful to me to listen to someone describing their own struggles and thought patterns and to see myself and the people who love me reflected there. It impacted me so greatly, I went home, wrote it down, and told her so.
It doesn't matter if she reads my response or not. Just like it doesn't matter if you read this or close a tab. This might resonate with you or it might seem like a lot of melodramatic paragraphs. That's okay. What matters is that I know that I am not alone and hearing her current struggles reminded me that my coping mechanisms and practiced disorders are not who I am. Her words reminded me of how far I have come and how possible recovery and freedom are when we are honest with ourselves. They reminded me that I am deeply loved and can be deeply known. They remind me that while I can grieve my mistakes and the time lost, I can also be filled with gratitude that I can change my future and that I am surrounded by blessings that I might just be learning how to be present for.
So I am writing this down to remind my 50 year old self of where I was just 10 years ago. So I can look back and see that I can forgive myself and be tender with the parts that aren't ready to heal yet. The parts I haven't even faced yet. That I can know I am safe and I am loved and I can trust myself to show up the best I can and that when I know better, I will learn to do better.
I am sharing my heart because I know how much hearing others' stories, especially of the messy middle, has impacted mine and maybe you need to be told, just like my counsellor recently told me, "You are wholly acceptable. All of you."
Amen, let it be so
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