Unspoken Resilience

Art by Caitlin Noble

I often find myself experiencing mild annoyance at the human race for making everything look so goddamn easy.  With the age of social media and the persistent highlight reels we as a collective are exposed to, it can be easy for us to fall into a narrative that says - “Everyone else is doing swimmingly well and I - alone - am the only one who, at least once a week, cries into a bowl of supermarket, own brand Cornflakes.” The reality is, of course, not this; we might all be crying into our Cornflakes - and that’s entirely OK.  My annoyance peeked a few days ago when I experienced my first Brazillian wax.  To both my and the beautician's surprise I found myself hysterically laughing and weeping in pain simultaneously.  Obviously, the pain was HORRENDOUS  but I just found it so exceptionally comical that a lot of my friends do this EVERY MONTH and carry on their hairless lives as soon as they walk out the door of that hellish room.  Legs akimbo and tears running down my face, I thought about all the intense moments of pain that appear to slip away as fast as they arrive, or never even seem to exist at all.  How resilient we can be.  And how annoying that it happens so quietly.

I want to tell you my story; I want to give attention and grace to a current aspect of my life that I find falls into this unspoken category of resilience.  Something that to an outsider may appear only beautiful and wholesome.  But whilst it is both beautiful and wholesome, there is a quiet hum of something else - a nervous system that’s triggered, terrified, and in distress.   My first, secure relationship. 

I want to take a moment to explain what “secure” means specifically to me.  A secure relationship, to me,  provides a container in which both participants feel safe.  Safe to express their emotions, needs, and desires which are in turn heard by listening, loving, and non-judgemental ears. As we work to love in this space both persons are invested in themselves and the evolution of their lover - supportive of their inevitable growth.  It’s an awareness that sits outside of reactive behavior - for at least the most part. We’re all human after all. 

Love is a room of bright light which has the potential to leave our skin warm and our hearts, near weightless.  But for those of us who are used to living in shadowy corners, convinced there are parts of us too shameful to be seen, the blinding light can leave us grabbing for anything that might act as cover.  Love is exposing; it touches the parts of us we don’t see as badges of honour; it holds a mirror up to the places within that need more kindness, more compassion.  When we are used to an old template of “love”, installing a new one takes courage and patience;  it takes time to reinform the nervous system, to comfort the body, and understand it’s not necessary to constantly be stationed in either fight or flight.  Poised, ready to prove our enoughness; or ready to hide. The age-old journey to loving yourself before you can begin to love anyone else.  Thanks, Rupaul.
For me, a lot of anxiety appeared around a fear of abandonment - I’ve been terrified that people in my life will leave and I will be left alone.  I’m sure I heard whispers of this whilst I was piecing my bones together in my mother’s womb and it’s been a narrative that's echoed into the romantic relationships of my adult life.  How did it take form? Often spine cracking, bending over backward to please and shape the perfect girlfriend with more than a pinch of self-sacrifice and neglect on my soul’s behalf.  Biting my tongue when sour emotions appeared and calling off the hounds of my intuition when my boundaries were crossed and my trust betrayed. I was so sure that this behavior would hide my flaws, coerce the world to believe a version of me that was free of pain and worthy of love. I was aching for love, but I didn’t know what it truly looked like.  

A codependent. addicted to people-pleasing, desperate to conjure the validation I couldn’t give myself.  I rejected so much of myself and thought that everyone would reject it too.

As is the way of the world, my behavior and perspectives attracted particular types of partners.  My limits were pushed more times than I can remember; but I would stay, tongue and voice caged behind a gritted smile.  Resenting my partner for rejecting my purified self and resenting myself for suppressing so much of what made me feel alive.  I think it’s important to say how this behavior also caused pain to others.  When you’re so focused on being liked, loved even - you miss so much.  Having zoomed in on how to be lovable I neglected a whole heap of loving.  Perhaps superficially it was there, but fear would swallow any moments that craved the divine depths where real love could flourish.  With this, full hearts were invited into my facade of love - they became collateral to my coercion.

I met my current partner around 6 months ago after an extended period of being single.  I knew I had work to do in the silence of my own heart and I spent the best part of 2 years rediscovering the corners of myself I was previously so ashamed of.  I began to love them, honour them and make space for them. Accepting them as strokes on the beautiful painting that was my life.  For the first time, I felt unburdened, I was free in the palms of self-love and acceptance.  

When we met, as well as being entirely enchanted, I was scared.  I knew the next natural step of my healing was to take place in the container of a relationship but the idea of another pair of eyes on my soul was unnerving.  I remembered and I was scared the old thoughts would rear their head.

And they did.

My awareness of the patterns made the process easier.  My chest would tighten and my palms would sweat when I affirmed a boundary or spoke my truth - I was sure this assertion would cost me the beautiful soul who stood before me.  It didn’t.  I would often find myself with a magnifying glass surveying our last encounter, wondering what I could have possibly done to ruin it.  I was bound to an old impression of love.  My bones and soul knew differently now, but my inner child was scared.  What if they leave and I hadn’t done my best?  Sometimes I could stand, steadfast as the rivers stormed through me; sometimes, I didn't feel as strong.

The first few months of our relationship, my anxiety came in waves. I spent days trying to touch down on a marsh - a place between water and land where I knew I didn’t NEED this, but so deeply longed for it.  My partner was amazing. We would spend our days drowning in laughter and when the uneasiness appeared I would say my feelings out loud and he would hold me.  “I’ve got you” he would say - until it subsided and I felt safe.  

It’s a hard transition to make.  There have been times I wanted to flee but knew I should stay.  Many times where breaking boundaries felt like my only hope to keep love, but I didn’t - and he stayed.  With the old story, opening my heart fully felt like the ultimate sacrifice.  What I know now is this: the deepest sacrifice is that where my truth and self are lost.  No amount of external validation will fill the void in me where self-acceptance lives and breathes. My partner lovingly held space for it of course, but I had to hold space for myself first.  

I speak of this because I didn’t hear it enough.  It’s triggering, It’s hard and it’s scary.  Even when you find someone you want to travel this path with, it’s tough.

But that love of self - it’s so worth it.

It’s like finding Kansas when you thought Oz was your forever home. 

It’s important to recognize a safe container when it lands at your feet.  I am in no way saying that we should numb the feelings of danger just because we so desire to be safe. My point is that there is a shift that will inevitably have to take place; which takes time.  A realignment where your body remembers, warns and inspires reactive behaviour; but your heart knows, loves and favours long-term self-preservation - and it will, no doubt, be bumpy.  A dear friend of mine described it in the most perfect way: she told me that when I was triggered I was witnessing a window to a past emotion.  My nervous system was having a hard time separating the then from the now, the lines were blurred because the sensations were so overwhelming.  How do we settle these feelings? 

With affirmations of safety.  

Tend to yourself like a beautiful garden - and watch the bloom fill you with life.  Find home in your beautiful bones and alignment that knows so deeply that you are worthy of the best kind of love and should not have to scrape the barrel for faux crumbs. 

When you state your needs and acknowledge your emotions out loud, people may leave - let them.  Perhaps you will be the one to call it a day.  I've come to learn that this is not the abandonment I once thought it to be.  We are simply rerouting.  Rerouting through choice and autonomy. 

This is certainly not an essay exclaiming that I have reached the destination and end goal of eternal love.  Wedding bells and a symphony of happily ever after are not the songs that rest upon my ears - I have learnt to not marry a future goal of bliss with only the evidence of the present. I know this is a process that will never stop evolving - and I accept that.  Taking it all day by day.

Now, love is here - and I intend to savour every moment.