I think I know some shit. I’ve trained as a Life Coach. I’m a Reiki Master. I have a degree in Human Development. More importantly I’ve lived and healed the fuck out of some shit. Ask me about being a young unwed mother. Ask me about finding love. I’ll talk freely about my childhood, the trauma and triumphs. I’ll share my experience as a young mixed girl growing up in an affluent White community. Ask me to share the raw truth of parenting. I’m an open book and until now I felt I had a grasp on my healing. The same stuff kept coming up. For years abandonment issues would surface as coworkers I befriended left suddenly. It went from something that gave me anxiety to something I could recognize and watch from an unattached place. Recently I caught myself getting anxious and depressed. In therapy I was given tools to deal with feeling less than. I was reminded of tools I already had and was on my way to a healthier place with ease. I must have given my guides the idea that I needed something new. Because recently I was hit with something I didn’t know how to work through.
I was triggered.
I was in a setting I considered safe and I suddenly didn’t feel that way anymore. I wanted to flee. I wanted to cut myself off from the people I was with. But that wasn’t the right thing to do. I sat in discomfort. Then I came home and processed with a friend. Processed with my husband. Processed with another friend. I gained some understanding. But I felt shook that I didn’t know how to heal this particular issue. I couldn’t quickly get to the root and reconcile it. But as I sit here writing this I know that the answer is almost always the same. Self care/love and forgiveness. I ended up falling into the self-care routine simply out of habit. I did what felt right. Moving from one simple task to the next. What can I eat that will support me? In this case it was a grass-fed burger. Complete with fries, onion rings and a chocolate shake. Emotional eating at it’s finest. In hindsight the chocolate shake made me little jittery but I didn’t beat myself up for it. I let myself enjoy the company of strangers complimenting the baby. I asked for help. For 15 minutes without the baby for my own nap. I talked it out as much as I needed. And I took a nice hot salt bath even though my fear of the baby waking up during my soak has kept me from doing this recently.
It’s now, sitting here in my robe while everyone is asleep. I finally stopped trying to plan, plan, plan and can remember that the simplest tools can do the most good. So I will continue to care for myself and start on a practice of forgiveness. For myself first and then for those involved.
If you ever get to that place. The place where you don’t know where the fuck to start because you are so blindsided by this new challenge that has come to teach you. Start with love. Start with the tools you already have inside of you and remember that you are not alone.