My Story
I dolled myself up. Was overly friendly, loud and outgoing. Life of the party. Rambunctious and emotional. I would swing from one extreme to the other. I was all in, then sabotaged my relationships. I was the victim and villain in my own story and I was living it out, one painful chapter at a time, thinking it was my destiny or penance or something like that. Literally, I thought I deserved that. I thought I had no choice.
Then there was the pretending.
I’d tell anyone, like that’s something you lead out with. I wore it like a badge. I let it define me. I convinced myself no one really loved me, no one knew me. I would say things to myself like “No one cares if you live or die. No one would even notice if you weren’t here anymore.” I called them my tapes. Press play, repeat. Holy smokes. No wonder I felt (and looked) so sad.
The two photos below were taken at a birthday party over 15 years ago.
I used to introduce myself as a victim of child abuse.
So when my therapist said those words...You're doing it...and I actually heard them, it was a shock to my system.
She told me to find Brené Brown. I listened to The Power of Vulnerability straight through, crying the entire way. It was as though my innermost thoughts were recorded in that book. I felt inspired and determined and relieved. I wasn’t the only one. This was just the beginning.
I started moving. The next ten years were full of ups and downs. (If you thought I was going to say it was easy, apologies.) There were many highs: I had four incredible mentors, went back to complete my masters, read a ton of empowering books, started a fulfilling career, became a body-builder, walked away from a toxic workplace and married the man of my dreams.
The lows were there too. That toxic environment? I stayed in it for eight years. I lashed out at my friends, said hurtful things to my husband and used retail therapy as a crutch more times than I care to count. The lowest: I stayed in contact with my dad - the abuser. Then a major event triggered a total meltdown and escalated into something new. I found myself hiding in the closet convinced people were trying to kill me. Diagnosis: PTSD.
Intensive therapy multiple times a week and a major game changer - EMDR. Processing, talking, sharing. Listening to others share, and I mean listening. Classes and workshops on skills I didn’t learn in school, like how not to destroy my life when I felt so sad I thought I’d die. How not to say hurtful things to others because I was in my own feels. How to shut my brain off or change direction when it tries to replay those old tapes. Skills every woman needs but most of us don’t learn.
Now it’s practice, and I mean practice. Hard work, especially when I’m tired. Getting honest with myself. Listening to my body. Walking the talk. Walking away. Falling down and getting back up again. Sharing my story, owning it, being completely vulnerable with those I trust. Saying no. Expecting to be uncomfortable, and seeing it as a sign I’m growing and on my path. Genuinely complimenting myself, treating myself like I would treat my best friend. Remembering I’ve made it through some really difficult experiences and I can make it through this one too. Using the skills I’ve learned every day. And perhaps the most important practice, living my mantra: My self worth is not on the table.
Here's what I look like now that I know how to love myself. Even better: when I look at this picture, I can't help but smile back.
I was sitting in my therapist’s office talking through the start of my second divorce, frustrated, overwhelmed, and feeling pretty hopeless. I looked at her and asked: Why does this keep happening to me?
She asked me if I was ready. I waited.
“You’re doing it.”
Let's back up.