”You share with the people who have earned the right to hear your story.”

I was watching a segment of Brene Brown’s discussion on vulnerability with Oprah on Super Soul Sunday, and Brene definitely stated,”You share with the people who have earned the right to hear your story.”

This instantly hit home as I’ve been feeling disconnected in my new workplace. I do not have “a person” (as Meredith Grey frequently refers to as Christine Yang). I don’t have someone I can truly confide in about my own concerns, insecurities and anxieties that arise from a new job and the associated challenges. At this point in our lives, it is abundantly clear that the only path to true connection is through vulnerability. As such, I have selectively had conversations where I was vulnerable with a few coworkers that I thought may understand.  These conversations were received with varying levels of validation and empathy but one thing that has not happened is reciprocation. I don’t know if everyone at this company is afraid to be vulnerable or if it is generally taken as a sign of weakness to be vulnerable (aka real) in the workplace.  Either way I’ve been feeling isolated and disconnected.

During the interview, Oprah and Brene remark that if you have one friend who ‘shows up’ for you when you are vulnerable, that is all you need. And if you have 2 or 3 friends who ‘show up’, consider yourself lucky. Well, I must be the luckiest superhero on the planet because I need two hands to count the number of close friends who show up and support me not just when I’m feeling vulnerable but when they are too. True friends that you know will not judge or critique but who show empathy and compassion as we are all trying to ‘grow our gardens’ in a sometimes difficult environment (see earlier post).

I highly recommend checking out a few of Brene Brown’s segments with Oprah - they are chuncked into short bits by topic so you can glean amazing insights without being glued to your computer screen.  If you watch/have watched the interviews, please share any parts that hit home for you!

Painting a mental picture

I suck at letting go. Perhaps one day I will grow enough that I will be able to let something go because it just “is”, but so far in my life, I have required a mental picture to understand what happened in order to let it go.  I can cognitively say “it’s not a fit” but my heart can’t let go until I understand why.

I fought for a mental picture of my divorce for years, an understanding of why things fell apart in such a sudden and shocking way (though now I see now as sudden and shocking as I first thought). When people said stop asking why and accept it as it is, I agreed and focused on acceptance saying ‘it is what it is’. But as a result of my persistence in understanding, I did end up forming a mental picture of what happened and that has greatly helped my process of healing.

While reading Brene Brown’s “Daring Greatly”, I found this passage that struck like a lightening bolt cutting through the dark fog of the storm:

“When the people we love or with whom we have a deep connection stop caring, stop paying attention, stop investing and stop fighting for the relationship, trust begins to slip away and hurt starts seeping in. Disengagement triggers shame and our greatest fears – the fears of being abandoned, unworthy and unlovable. What can make this covert betrayal so much more dangerous than something like a lie or an affair is that we can’t point to the source of our pain – there’s no event, no obvious evidence of brokenness. It can feel crazy-making.”

I’m still working to know that I’m ok, even without a detailed explanation of why something.  But I am grateful to have found this little bit of insight that helped me gain clarity and a step further to healing. Not just from The Runner, because let’s face it, this isn’t about him - this is about healing myself. Knowing that I’m ok.

I have been wondering lately, does this sense of okayness come easily and innately to everyone else? Or is this a common struggle among many, but viewed as taboo to admit?  Where is the balance between having the armor of confidence to protect your heart but remaining vulnerable and open to connection and the full experience of life?

Scaredy Cat

I haven’t written about The Runner lately. I told myself that is because everything is going so well - which it is. Yet I’ve noticed my anxiety increasing incrementally over the last 2 weeks. I told myself it was from a variety of sources - work, Stella, general life upkeep.  But it finally caught up with me last night - I’m scared.  Really scared.

The vulnerability from my developing feelings for The Runner is growing at a fast pace.  In simpler terms, I really really like him. He is amazing, inside and out. And each day he says something that amazes me even more. He has a unique humanistic take on daily experiences that others would take for granted. Noticing and appreciating small things that others would easily overlook.  

This week he was sick, as was I.  We talked on the phone each night, and each night he relayed his daily stories, pointing out the interesting, sweet or rarely appreciated moments that would go unnoticed to most.  As each day passed I felt more and more lucky to be spending time with him. And as each day passed that we weren’t spending time together in person (as it was all via phone), I became more and more insecure that he would realize that his life is just dandy without me and would become uninterested.

This anxiety continued to build until last night when I was distant while on the phone with him. Not because I was disappointed that he was still sick and we couldn’t hang out (which I was) but because I was scared that he was going to disappear.  People keep saying to me that a person does not just stop liking someone else and bounce. But my perception of the end of my marriage is just that. He stopped liking me and bounced.  Even after months and months of work to rebuild my confidence in myself, I still have the pangs of wondering if there is something terribly wrong with me that will turn everyone who comes into my life off at some point and they will bounce.  Was this week’s illness just the opening that The Runner needed to realize that he was tired of me and ready to hit the road?

During our conversation last night, he provided the right reassurances at the right time. And after we hung up, I thought about why I was so distant on the call and realized it was just my fear and that without being asked, he made me feel comfortable and secure that he was still there. So I called him back and thanked him for that. We talked about why I was scared and he compared it to a race car driver getting in a car accident - he doesn’t drive the same the first time out after the accident, he needs time to be comfortable again.

The Runner’s understanding, patience and most of all lack of judgement was very touching.  We talked a bit more and hung up. At which point I broke down crying. And cried. And cried. The sharp pain of fear, fear of that he will leave, fear that there really is something wrong with me, fear that I will never find lasting joy and contentment, fear that I’ll self sabotage anything good in my life.  I cried for the fact that the pain was so pointed, even after all of this time.  And that though I thought I was through the worst effects of the divorce, I’m still faced with the consequences.

With her usual impeccable timing, Little Buddha sent this to me earlier this week. Very fitting.

THE DREAM OF CONSTANT OKAYNESS

It’s not impermanence per se, or even knowing we’re going to die, that is the cause of our suffering, the Buddha taught. Rather, it’s our resistance to the fundamental uncertainty of our situation. Our discomfort arises from all of our efforts to put ground under our feet, to realize our dream of constant okayness. When we resist change, it’s called suffering. But when we can completely let go and not struggle against it, when we can embrace the groundlessness of our situation and relax into its dynamic quality, that’s called enlightenment, or awakening to our true nature, to our fundamental goodness. Another word for that is freedom—freedom from struggling against the fundamental ambiguity of being human. (From Living Beautifully with Uncertainty and Change)

"No Fear"

One common thread I have heard among girls is once they decide they like a guy, they suddenly get very nervous (and frequently downright insecure) and wonder if he likes them back. This sounds basic, but a girl can go for many, many dates and only feel so-so about someone so it’s worry-free.  And then all of the sudden it hits, the girl realizes she likes the guy and now it is game on.

Up until now I’ve considered The Runner a very nice guy. But as we passed date #4, I upgraded him from very nice guy to pretty awesome.  Before I thought each text was a nice gesture and suddenly I’m wondering if he’s texting less. Before I knew he was into me and suddenly I’m wondering if he really is into me?  

This phenomenon of the tables turning seems to be a commonly shared neurosis among many girls.  Perhaps because starting to like someone makes you vulnerable.  When you are so-so you aren’t investing enough to get hurt. But when you start to invest, you suddenly have something to lose, and that is scary.

Last night my friends and I saw Madonna.  The 54 year old wonder revealed her incredibly perky rear end in a sexy black thong and informed the crowd that sometimes “it is easier to show you a$$ than your feelings” and revealed the words “No Fear” inked on her back.  At that moment I thought “duh”, but after a good night’s rest without someone screaming their undying love for this ageless icon in my ear, I realized that is exactly the truth.