an everyday kind of choice

My favorite kind of therapy session is one that makes me feel like i just got b****-slapped in the face and then pulled into a big, warm bear hug. Reading that back I know I sound very unwell (oopsies), but normally this is around the point I have a breakthrough.

Quite honestly, I would be lying if I didn't admit that unwell is not too far from the truth. 2021-2023 have been some of the most challenging years of my life. I'm sure I'll go into more depth in other posts (or maybe I'll just avoid all my problems and rant about other happenings....oopsies pt. 2).

Towards the end of 2021, after much reflection with my therapist, Nella (God bless that woman into her next life), I decided to take space from some toxic dynamics in my family and from the church (yes, I am a spiritual, "deconstructing religion" girlie). Unsurprisingly, this was eclipsed by something of a quarter-life identity crisis, which led me to question my career, community, and values. Oh, and throw in a few random health and personal calamities as well. I know, yikes.

These past couple years have felt something like a wilderness. but there have been good things too, and not just little things. I began to cultivate my creativity. I discovered what I really want to do with my life. I prioritized the right people. I met the love of my life, who I've lovingly referred to as "M". I started this blog. But still, the demons of the past seemed to haunt me. Fearing the goodness of the highs collided with wading through some very real lows and depression settled in.

It was all so confusing; I had never struggled with my mental health like this. I felt out of control in almost every dimension of my life. Helplessness is a very real feeling, and the perspective and empathy I have for those of us who identify with this feeling are so close to my heart.

As the days wore on, I started to feel feel more and more...concave. I felt small. I didn't feel this every moment of the day. But when something hard would come up, even if it was a good kind of hard, I felt myself shrinking and going inward. It didn't just have to be a random life calamity, that's just part of life. It was even the hard things that were good things to work through. Like a fight with M.

Fights are normal for couples. I've been learning that it's less about how much you fight, and more about how you fight. And that really showed in the fight that led to a major perspective shift for me. (Also, from here on out, I will be referring to fights as "squibbles" because that's the term M and I coined to soften a very important component of a relationship to work through)

This was one of those squibbles that brought to the surface some very difficult truths. But in the moment, I felt attacked. I felt unheard and tossed around. I felt fragile, and every thing that was raised felt like a dagger stabbing in my heart. I've always felt my feelings deep in my body, and this instance was not an outlier.

In the end, we turned towards each other and rebuilt our bridge, and I felt closer to and more trusting of my guy at the end of it all (all my single readers, this is a green flag!!). But, I would be lying if I didn't disclose that I felt a tinge (a very large tinge) of fear (all my anxious attachment girlies knowwww) and self righteousness. I mean, surely I am not supposed to feel this terrible after a fight? He could have been more....aTteNtiVe to my needs, right?? He could be more soft, more careful, more (fill in the blank).

So, I crafted my monologue 5 minutes before my therapy session with Nella. It would be a delicate balance of both affirming my experience and defending M's character (I mean, she still has to think he's perfect for me after all this). She let me go on for about 36 minutes.

And then, she hit me with, "I think he is drawing a boundary and asking for healthy communication."

~ R U D E ~

This is normally the point when she goes all in. She blindsides me with a shocking truth that I desperately needed to hear (but obviously didn't want to) and then lets it rip. Oh, and this normally happens in the last 5 minutes of our session, but at least this time she gave me a little less than 24 minutes to process my self-righteous doom.

"You can feel all that you feel, but you can express your feelings from a strong place. You have a choice."

Choice.

The word bounced around the skeleton of my soul. At first an unwelcome clank. And then slowly a liberating ring.

"What are you thinking?"

Nella's favorite phrase when she knows I'm reeling. -____-

In those last 15 minutes, I began to feel my internal narrative shifting, whether I was ready or not.

"M is not going to coddle you. He wants a healthy relationship with an adult woman."

Ugh, the conviction swept over me. All my years of therapy felt like a waste...I thought I was the living embodiment of emotional ~health~.

At this point, the one thing I was clinging to was being Nella's favorite client (not sure if therapists are supposed to say that to their clients or if that's honestly even a good thing but oh whale ¯\_(ツ)_/¯)

"You know you're my favorite, but I need to say this: What you are trying to get from him can be manipulative."

Hearing those words was honestly one of my greatest fears. My personal indicator that I'm in the red zone is when I feel past emotional manipulative tendencies rise to the surface. (I deleted and tried to reframe this sentence multiple times quite honestly, but I'm sticking to my guns and being honest to the two of you faithful readers out there.)

I know that when this comes up, I'm reaching for straws (not sure if this idiom is correctly phrased...I am infamous for botching these) in an attempt to gain some kind of security. When I feel powerless. When I feel small.

Nella took a deep breath. Telling the hard truth ain't easy (especially to your ~favorite~ client). I knew I had some major reflecting to do.

But as we drew our session to close, I felt a rush of hope. It wasn't until later when I processed with M that I realized I was strong. People used to tell me growing up that I was resilient. And I used to resent that. I wanted to be seen and treated delicately.

But more and more, I'm realizing that I can feel delicate but also be strong. I can feel the full complexity of my emotions, but I don't have to make myself small in the midst of the whirl. The chaos is okay. It's my choice to remind myself I'm standing on years of solid ground that I've sown, tended, and pruned over my lifetime.

Sure, there are gonna be days that just suck and kick me in the ass. But, within that day, I also have micro decisions to make that can root me and remind me of the elements of me that have held me through the years. Sometimes that means taking a walk when I'm feeling scared. Sometimes that means telling M when he hurts my feelings. Sometimes that means watching something inspiring when I'm feeling bleak.

The power of choice reminds me that there is strength to be found in me.

I clearly have more to unpack in this little, big moment. But I'll leave it for another day, another blog (maybe). I just wanted to memorialize this moment of growth to reflect on and appreciate in the future.

End of Monologue

the little thing that made me :')

feeling strong for the first time in a long time