This is my first post on this Tumblr, but I’ve actually been on Tumblr for years under another name. My previous account was home to a lot of honesty, I’ll give it that, but it was also characterized by a lot of negativity. This, to some extent, is understandable, since I used that account to chronicle my divorce and subsequent depression and self-flagellation. But I don’t want to stay stuck in that way of thinking or living, and while I could have just endeavored to gradually shift the tone of that Tumblr, it feels better to start anew. So here we are.
I have been interested in Brené Brown’s work on shame and vulnerability for a while now, and over the past week I’ve been reading Daring Greatly, which I got for Christmas. Boy, does Brené have my number! I’m finally starting to have names for and to make sense of so many of the things I’ve struggled with in my life: my perfectionism, my difficulty asking for help or acknowledging when I don’t know something, my crippling self-consciousness, and my tendency to sabotage intimacy in my relationships, among other things. Occasionally I would have flashes of insight about these things on my own, but Brené explains it all with one unifying theory that makes so much sense. I’m finally starting to understand why I am the way I am and what I can do to change the parts I don’t like.
I used to have this idea of how my life would be when I finally got my shit together. I would exercise regularly and be in great shape. I would eat healthy foods. My house would stay clean. I would always be on top of everything at work. I’d wear stylish clothing and my hair would always be cooperative and my skin would clear up. I’d throw elegant dinner parties and be surrounded by friends who admired me for my wit and ability to select fancy cheeses. I would always know exactly what to say to people in every situation, especially hard situations. (Because I’m a therapist, so I’m supposed to know what to say, yes?) I would radiate peace and equanimity and people would say things about me like “She’s just one of those people who feel good to be around, you know?”
Do you know what the counterpoint was to all of that? When I held that up as my ideal life, my actual life looked like this: I am a fat, lazy slob. I don’t take care of myself. My house is disgusting. I am disgusting. I have no sense of style and I’m ugly. I don’t have the energy to make everything perfect enough to have people over for dinner. I never say the right thing and so I’m just going to keep my mouth shut. I am a ball of anxiety and negative energy and self-loathing and I don’t deserve to do anything but watch Netflix and eat cheeseburgers and hide myself away.
Ouch. That feels really gross and uncomfortable just writing all of that. And I don’t want it to sound like that was my mindset all the time -- it wasn’t. But I did spend a lot of time there, in the mental garbage dump that is at the bottom of the shame spiral.
What I want to get to now is this: I take care of my physical and emotional health by engaging in movement that I enjoy and eating foods that nourish me. I do this as much as I reasonably can but it’s okay that there are times when I don’t. When I have hard feelings I attend to them instead of numbing by surfing the internet, eating mindlessly, or seeking comfort from people who can’t provide it. My house isn’t always clean because I like to cook and I have a dog and those things are messy, but I do my best. I screw up at work sometimes, but I put in a lot of effort and I own my mistakes. I don’t owe it to anyone to be physically beautiful, and the people who matter will think I’m beautiful in a ball gown or pajama pants. My friends come over for dinner to enjoy my company and to experience the love that I put into cooking for them, not to be impressed with haute cuisine or how spotless my house is. I say what’s on my mind, even when I’m unsure or feeling vulnerable, and I stay open to honest engagement. I feel worthy and I feel that I am enough and from that base I enjoy all the exciting, scary, wonderful things the world has to offer.
Do you know what’s really freeing about that? I’m already in it. I can sit here and look at the full laundry basket on the dining room table, the Christmas stuff that needs to be put away, the fact that I’m still in my PJs at 2:30 pm, and just experience it without judgment. So much of my misery has been not about the actual state of myself or my life, but about the disconnect between how my life was and how I thought it was supposed to be, how I thought I was supposed to be. This is not exactly new information to me; I’ve read enough pop Buddhism to know that the root of suffering is desire. But I’ve only recently been able to see how this applies to my life. And it’s the difference between panicking and flailing and drowning versus suddenly realizing that you know how to swim, and have always known. You stop struggling and start flitting about like a joyful mermaid, totally in your element.
I am not yet that flitting mermaid, but I think I feel my tail starting to grow.
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