The answer is as simple as getting over my own damn self.
As long as I hold onto my own pain and emotions, as long as I am not in the moment, as long as I carry my history and experience as a burden and not as a gift, as long as I let my scars control me, then I will continue to get the same old results from the same bound up choices.
The problem, though, is that I don’t want to let go of my own emotions. It feels like that is what I have been required to do forever, submerge my feelings as part of the duty to do what is required in a world where other people haven’t done the work to be safe with my experience.
If I can’t discharge my emotions, my struggles, my frustrations, can’t share my joy & pain but instead am obligated to modulate myself down so I only emit tiny spoonfuls at a time and stay centred when even those are rejected, always having to get over my own damn self while others don’t even know who the hell they are, well, that doesn’t feel safe or fair or even life-affirming.
If my job is to understand and process your emotions, to respect and honour them, to show that I have considered them, listened to you so you will listen to me, but you see none of that as your job, because my emotions are not real, too weird or just not in your vision, well, that feels like shit to me.
It’s probably not reasonable for me to expect you to embrace and engage my feelings, to enter into my darkness when you have not entered into your own. But when the demand to be reasonable means I have to swallow my own feelings, well, that feels pretty damn bad.
The right choice may be as easy as getting over my own damn self.
It’s just that damn self is real and messy and emotional, beat up and scarred, broken and battered, beautiful and sweet.
And I love her.