I won’t lie. I usually deeply
loathe “new year, new me” mantras. I tend to believe that if and when a need or
desire for change occurs, one should act in that moment... not waiting for the
dangerously magical January, hoping that a new calendar will bring lasting
determination to accomplish any goal. It’s always felt a bit silly, and
ultimately as if I am setting myself up for failure. Resolutions have gotten a
bad reputation over the years when folks gallantly set out to reinvent
themselves, only to find out in Mid-February that the said reinvention is
exhausting, and possibly not worthy of continuation. I think there’s room to
argue that it’s not such a bad thing when people realize that the changes they
think they should make are driven by superficial forces and that, in fact, they
are quite content with the way they are. But as someone who has experienced a
personal shift for well over a year, I decided that 2016 was a good time to
make some changes. Call me cliché. Call me a hypocrite. Feel free to also call
me thin if this lifestyle change (aka less pasta, more walking) works out in my
favor.
I’ve made some resolutions towards a healthier lifestyle and it seems to be going well. I haven’t murdered anyone or been found in a corner shoveling ice cream down my throat in between sobs.
(for the record, every time I eat celery the quote “nothing tastes as good as skinny feels” crosses my mind and I think to myself.. I can name 47 things on the McDonalds menu alone that taste better than skinny feels and anything tastes better than this stick of celery.)
But aside from a better diet and more exercise, I’ve been working on something a bit more… substantial. This year for me is not going to be about reinvention, revision, or reinvigoration. I am taking a cue from my girl Shonda Rhimes and going out on a limb- I am saying yes to more, especially myself. “Ad Maiora” is the title of this blog and means towards something greater. That’s my goal and this, dear friends, is going to be my most vulnerable year yet.
To be vulnerable is to be susceptible to physical emotional attack or harm—a common definition among us. However, I spent a lot of minutes looking up definitions, example, and synonyms of this word only to find the same theme. The English language tends to associate pain, danger, and fear with being vulnerable. Luckily, I spent some online time with Brené Brown on this topic. In her TEDtalk, she noted that her qualitative research brought to light an earth-shattering conclusion: the people in this world who believe they are truly, wholly worthy of love and belonging are those who see vulnerability as fundamental, while those who struggle with their sense of worthiness see vulnerability as excruciating.
Brené breaks down the three
necessary factors to ridding a life of shame:
- Accept “courage” as not an act of valiant bravery, but as the ability to tell the story of who you are with your whole heart
- Instill compassion for yourself, first and foremost, and then let that carry over into your treatment of others
- Connect with yourself and those around you with authenticity
Here’s where we are going to get
vulnerable.
I struggle with my own internal
sense of worthiness. Like Brené said in her talk, I don’t have family issues or
some childhood bullshit. I think it’s always been around, but if I’m being honest,
it has really come out to play since my aneurysm. That moment and the recovery
that is still in progress debilitated
my independence, threw my identity and purpose into the shitter, and
exasperated some deeply-rooted feelings of inadequacy. Don’t worry, this is not
a pity party. It’s just part of this journey of vulnerability.
It has been proven that in more times than not, people who struggle with worthiness often desperately aim to make uncertain situations or plans concrete. I have struggled during this last year with lashing out when I’m not in control—I am snappier, sassier, and sometimes just plain mean in my responses. Some people use humor to deflect discomfort—apparently not all of my jokes are funny. I am always looking for ways to make myself “perfect” for whatever audience is watching. I’m like a human chameleon! Which sounds fun with that exclamation point but it’s not. Trust me. And ultimately, I’ve viewed any moment of vulnerability as excruciating weakness, not as normal and fundamental.
I have not had the courage in every situation to let myself be seen and to tell my story whole-heartedly for fear of rejection. I haven’t been kind to myself… often leading to me not being as kind as possible to others (super sorry mom, you’ve taken the brunt of this). And I have not been connecting with myself, and probably others, out of authenticity.
Brené said that part of this struggle is rooted in selective numbing: the practice of numbing certain emotions. Unfortunately, we aren’t advanced enough to truly accomplish that. When we numb one emotion, we numb ourselves to all of them. So while we (I) try to block out feelings of fear or shame, I also put up a wall against creativity, warmth, tenderness. It’s a bastard of a battle, let me tell you.
BUT GUESS WHAT? It’s going to be okay. It always is. I like to tell myself that if I can learn to walk again, I can learn anything—even if that is acceptance, joy, courage, compassion and connection.
The best thing any of us can do is try to be better. Focus on responding instead of reacting. Delve into daily acts of joy. Search for big and small moments, people, places, and experiences to be deeply grateful for. For example-- I started a gratitude journal earlier this month. Every day I write in it at least one thing I am grateful that day. Some days I’m like “totally grateful for this Starbucks latte ”, other days I take up an entire page of people and moments I want to acknowledge. This is not an exact science, but I would go out on a limb to say that we could all use a little more mindfulness to our world.
I wonder if we spent more time being kinder to ourselves, respecting and celebrating exactly who we are, if that would spill over into our interactions, into our connection with the rest of the world.
I sure as hell hope so.
Stay tuned. More awkward insights into my own brand of crazy to come!
