There’s a deep seated rage, and it wants to lash out.
I feel like I was violated.
And yet… It was just words, and words that came out of care and wanting to protect me.
But they hurt instead.
Why does that happen?
Why do sometimes people hurt us with their caring?
I don’t know.
I just know that it hurts.
That the words left me feeling untrusting of my own self, of my own sense of safety.
My own sense of whether I’m safe or not.
Prior to the words, I’d been feeling happy and loved and supported, choosing to trust in the opportunity laid ahead of me even when it seemed a bit quick and farfetched, though totally doable at the same time.
I chose, despite my learned helplessness about these matters, to trust that the task at hand is possible, because I’m not doing it alone.
And I’ve so wanted to not do it alone for such a long time.
I’m realizing now, I felt a sort of relief about this opportunity.
Relief at the invitation to offer my knowledge and experience in relating to people, and that I wouldn’t have to figure out how all on my own.
And the words triggered the fearful part of me, the part that wonders if I’m being taken advantage of, the part that wants to close off and protect myself.
The part that feels like I’m alone in it.
The part that’s painful, and that I had felt relieved from.
And I’m really mad at this person for saying those words right now.
For projecting her own fears, even if they were out of caring.
It was like the floor dropped out from under me.
It brought me back to that moment when I was 4, and got into the elevator by myself and felt completely fine and safe until I heard my mom freaking out through the elevator doors.
When I go back to that moment, I feel puzzled.
Everything was fine. What was there to freak out about?
And it made me question my sense of things being ok.
It’s why I’m feeling sad now.
Why I’m feeling sad and angry.
And yet, I’m also feeling grateful.
Because I’m getting to practice feeling the rush of sensations in my body.
The feeling that I’m going to explode from the energy of the anger coursing through me, and the feeling of sadness behind my eyes.
And then another sadness comes.
The sadness that I haven’t been letting myself experience my emotions like this in a while, and the sadness that I haven’t been listening to my heart.
I’m so sorry.
And then my heart perks up and expands a bit, feeling heard for the first time in a very long time.
I’m so sorry.
That I’ve been so immersed in surviving, that I’ve forgotten (how) to follow your cues.
I forgive myself.
I want to listen more, and follow suit.
And I’m scared I’m not able to.
But we’ll find a way.