Erasure of Self, Protections, and the living energy of needs

In a prior post, I explored my thoughts on safety and how I can maintain it when the instructions by Marshall Rosenberg to give almost all of my attention to the experience of the other person in an empathy session led to me interpreting it as a demand when I wasn't always resourced enough to be with anyone else's experience but my own. 

Since then, I've done more research into what it feels like to not be able to (or not even be allowed to) hold my own experience while in relation to someone else. In that last post, I described it as a kind of "erasure of self." I'm going to describe something that happened at a women's retreat during a meditation session that might give a bit more insight into what that means for me, and what that experience feels like. 

Erasure of self

We were doing a meditation in which we were asked to feel the energetic boundaries of a shield or shell that we have around our body, that protects us from the outside world. We were asked to try opening a small hole, as part of what we were learning was how to receive from life, both the pleasant and unpleasant, as being defended cuts us off from being able to receive life fully. We had also been doing some other practices for nervous system regulation and being with strong emotions, so this wasn't done haphazardly, but I was surprised at my own reaction. 

I immediately went into terror, and touched into a young child part that was so scared to be open and unprotected. Her fear was that she "wouldn't exist," because she experienced a form of transparency, as if she became invisible when faced with intense stimulation or feelings from the "outside world." Rather than being able to experience expression of something that comes from within, it was drowned out by all the stimulation and experience of the outside. And her experience was that of my emotionally disregulated mother who also sought coregulation by forcing other people to mirror her intense emotions, and shaming or blaming any other expression that didn't mirror her own. 

I was shaking and in tears as I told my teacher that I was afraid I "wouldn't exist." And she gently said, "And yet, here you are." And I remember laughing in a surprised way, realizing that my definition of "exist" would have to shift to include being open, and yet still being there. That maybe existing didn't mean either being totally closed or totally open, but some in-between state where I am at choice to move between the two as necessary. 

As a child, we learn how to take up space, to differentiate our experience of being and self. This is our sole purpose in those early, formative years, when we realize we are not mother, but separate beings. But in my case, any form of self-expression (i.e. self-exploration) that wasn't liked was not tolerated, and even punished. Thus, there was a need to build a strong shield or boundary, a density between myself and the outside world, in order to be able to feel myself in relation to the other, and protect myself from being overwhelmed by the intensity of stimulation that didn't spring from myself or my own essence. I believe that's how a protector part was born, whose strategy is to come out of myself and form a thick barrier instantly, at any time that it felt I would be overwhelmed and lose myself.

The Protective Shield

My first experience of becoming aware of it was in a Reiki course. At one point between practices, the teacher was explaining how energetic reactions are often automatic. In the middle of explaining this, she lunged toward me by one step and explained, "...and Christina most likely has put up a shield in response to what she interprets as my attacking her." Lo and behold, she was right. It was totally instant, a dense wall that came up about a foot and a half in front of me, paired with a twinge in my solar plexus that I associate with fear and anger. It was no bigger than a spark, but it was there, and I got acquainted with it and also the density that was put between she and I. 

A few days ago, I noticed it again. I was talking to my husband about something that brought up a lot of pain in me, and he was a part of it. He came to give me a hug as I cried. I noticed that as he held me I felt so much sadness and there was a belief in me, something like, "I'm alone in this, nobody cares about me, I'm the only one here experiencing this." Then there was a disconnect because a part of me realized, your husband is hugging you and being with you in your pain, so he does care. And then I was able to respond to the hug by hugging back. Then the pain became greater as I plunged deeper into it, and it was if that density came between me and him again. I put my hand back down, disconnecting again. I could physically feel the hug, but I couldn't receive the full impact - the loving intention and warmth of the hug. 

My ability to receive diminished the more I believed the painful story. The more I believed it, the more tenacious the shield between he and I grew. In the end it was a self-fulfilled prophecy of isolation. Though there was someone right next to me, it was too difficult to feel and receive their care. While I was not physically alone, my experience was of loneliness.

This difficulty with connecting with others is amplified especially in situations when I would like to practice NVC and be with others in times of conflict, but I am so deep in beliefs or judgments that self-empathy is the only viable solution. Or, I would need to meet with this part and fully listen to it, building a new relationship with it each day so that it can hand over the job it's been doing for me. But is having choice always possible?

(after 4 months in drafts...)

On one hand, a part of me believes that if I want to connect with someone else, I must forego my own needs. This is on the surface level. On a deeper level, it feels like there's not enough space for me to inhabit my own body when being with the other.  

That's why my conclusion to be fully grounded in the living energy of needs in myself was important. When doing this Robert Gonzales meditation, I felt more connected to my essence, my true self, and could feel the energy of touching into the beauty of the need I have. It requires inner stillness to do this, but it's difficult, if not impossible, to drop into stillness because that requires an openness, and when in contraction and defense then it's not possible to go there.

Working on my capacity to be with this will directly affect my capacity and quality of capacity to be the space for others to unfold in their own process.

 

Emergency self-empathy

TW: death, sexual assault

It began when I saw my daughter asleep in the backseat of the car. Her head was leaning back, and her mouth was agape. I was reminded of how my grandmother looked when she died and I was brought into her hospital room at 11 years old to see her body. I had enough anxiety to try and pat her legs and move her a little to encourage her to shift around so I could make sure she was alive. I could only feel relieved when she shut her mouth and moved a little in her sleep.

I started to think about how I sometimes get a lot of anxiety at night, with intrusive thoughts of scenarios where she is in danger or dies in some way, and I'm often brought to tears until I try to aggressively interrupt the thoughts because I know they are not real situations. I was then reminded of the nightmare I had the night before of her going into video chat rooms and accidentally exposing her private parts, and then getting messages from pedophiles. Since she was naive and innocent she believed they were just being friendly when in reality they were hoping to manipulate her into meeting with them to then rape and kill her. 

This touched something in me about the times in my life when I was younger and had been sexually assaulted. I especially remembered when I was with my mom and sister in an empty train at night and they sat together while I sat across from them alone. A middle aged man came in and made a beeline to sit next to me. I was afraid to be impolite and didn't realize I had a choice to simply say "NO, I don't want you to sit here." He then "fell asleep" and slowly leaned toward me, and I could see the outline of his penis under his clothes pointing at me. I remember looking at my mom and her being oblivious to the whole thing. I debated waking him up and telling him I want to change seats but then worrying about if I face toward him or against him when leaving the seat since I was boxed in by him, my body would still be uncomfortably close to him anyway. Finally I couldn't stand it anymore and decided to stand on the seat and hop over to the seat in front. I saw him "wake up" startled but didn't do anything after that. I moved to a seat farther away but was filled with rage, disgust, humiliation. I remembered another time of being in a crowded bus and someone grabbing my ass from behind, and again, my turning around wanting to punch whoever did it but not being able to know who did. I sometimes fantasized about that time because there was a man behind me and I would've loved to just spit on him and punch him because it was so unfair to have this done to me and feel powerless to do anything about it. 

As I was aware and watching all of this happening in me, I made the connection that the intensity of these feelings around my daughter and wanting to protect her was because of the failure of anyone to protect me from the same kind of situation. Once I recognized this I felt as if a younger part of me came up to say this, "Why didn't my dad protect me from my mom?" My mom would have such chaotic mood swings and he never stepped in to say she was going overboard because he wanted to avoid it himself. There was even a time when she was unleashing herself on him and he told her something about me that I had confided to him in private because he knew she would get mad and come barging into my room instead, taking him off the hook. It didn't help that a song from my teenagerhood came onto the music player while remmebering this, "I'm only happy when it rains" by Garbage. Listening to this I was reminded of how dark life felt, and how even feeling terribile and angry, powerless and in pain was familiar and comfortable to me in a strange way.

I thought to myself, is this really needing to happen right now? I'm in the car. It's not the best time. But yes, this was happening now. The parts of me that feel safe to bring their pain to me just happened to want to do it in that moment. So I just put my hand on my chest as a form of emergency self-empathy to be with what was alive in me, without either blocking it off nor indulging in it. This is the best I could do, with a promise to come back to it at a later date. In this experience I learned self-empathy in the way I prefer is not always possible. Sometimes the environment and situation make it impossible to fully go into my own pain. And this is OK. The amount that I'm able to be with myself is much more welcome than not doing so at all. 

Today, I was able to come back to that fear now that it wasn't so activated in me and mixed with other parts who also had stories to tell, increasing the emotional intensity. The first point was to recognize that such a strong fear response was directly correlated to the amount that I care about my daughter. So it really helped to know that all of the fear and anger was because she was so important to me, that it was due to the huge, huge amount of love I have for her. And when I connected with that, it felt a lot better. The fear can be seen for what it is, which is an indication of the large amount of capacity for love that I have. Touching into this was soothing. This was the first layer. 

The second was to be with the part of me that projected this need for safety onto my own daughter. This was a part of me that needed its own care and attention. And I let it speak to me without trying to change its experience, just being with presence. I accompanied it and reflected back to her that need for safety, the anger of ultimate abandonment when somebody should've come and saved her, the pain of feeling alone in a situation where she was made to feel responsible for the irrational and out of control emotions of her mother. I imagined my adult self and little me back in the situation of my mother raging at us, and me speaking as the adult, standing in front of little me as a shield, letting my mother know that it's not little me's responsibility to make her feel better, again and again. Finally I took little me away from the scene to a place that was safe, and she was so relieved to finally have someone to rely on, to speak up for her when everything was so unfair. 

I am not sure if this was enough to fully unburden this part of myself, but the palpable relief I felt was certainly a step in the right direction.

Yearning as a gateway to the needs within

 I was so angry. I could feel myself wearing my anger as if it were armor while stomping around the house. I felt it protecting my chest, as if it were an energy in front of me and shielding me. I was aware of myself and thought to myself, "I am protected now because I feel too hurt to be open." And I knew that I spent a lot of my life like this - cut off, protected. I knew the anger was covering over pain and sadness. If I stopped a moment to be with this realization, I started to feel the pain bubble up from under the surface. I knew that some self-empathy was in order.

First I celebrated my jackals. What was it that got me so angry that I even slammed my fist on the table? The thoughts raced so fast that I didn't have time to see how I got there. I remembered that when I'm truly connected to my needs, anger doesn't exist. But it does come when I make judgments about other people. I remembered what I said to my husband, "Nobody cares about my own experience and whether I'm uncomfortable except for me. I get ignored because they don't care, they only care about themselves. Even though I let my desire be known, I was ignored." This is what drove me into a rage, and that it kept happening again and again. I knew that the anger was part of a protector, who was always outraged at the lack of care, compassion, emotional attunement, and wanted to keep me from feeling the pain of this and empower me instead. Knowing this, I thanked her and breathed to relax her grip. We knew it was time to put the defense down to process what happened, so that the next time I become reactive, I can calm myself even faster. 

Now that I identified the judgment, I gave myself validation. I told myself, yeah it really hurts to be treated this way. It's so hard to think that people don't care, of course it hurts. Some tears came, but it wasn't enough for me to fully feel into it; something was missing. For some reason I started to think about a friend of mine who I've been giving empathy to lately. I imagined I was sitting with her and she was telling me the things that were painful to her. I noticed that when I stayed silent, she had more words to pour out, and more pain. After listening a while, I started to think of things to say as she had just opened herself and made here vulnerable, to "dress her up" and give her a heart reaction that would help her to not feel alone. 

But then I imagined I was her, and I was hearing me say encouraging things. I felt like I could've said more about my pain (as her), but my own words were getting in the way of fully connecting with myself. What would I (as her) have liked to feel really supported and cared for? A hug would be enough. Simply sitting in silence and holding my hand. And then, what if we're on video call and can't meet in person? Then the best way for me to support her would be to put my hand on my heart and allow myself to be fully touched by her experience as I bring all of my presence to be with her. And I felt myself as her, seeing me with my hand on my heart. I felt that I was feeling true compassion, being both the giver and receiver of it. It took my fantasizing about being compassionate toward others, and receiving that from an imaginary me, in order to actually get to the point where I could deliberately give it to myself; not as a mental exercise, but as a direct felt sense experience. 

Something interesting began to happen. I started to feel a tenderness, an ache, and a melting in my heart. I felt I really had to put my hand there, as I gave myself the care that I wanted. I felt the mourning and yearning for not having it, and remembered that the yearning can be a doorway to access the life force energy with the quality/color/flavor or care that is already inside of me. So then I decided to be fully with it, to allow it to be the doorway. And then, as the pain of yearning intensified, suddenly it was as if I splashed through the surface level and arrived at the quality of care within, the one that is part of my pure essence as a human being. I thought, this is the care that is from God, that is always present, that is what I'm made of, my divine essence. I felt a lot of relief as I sat with my hand on my heart, the ache subsiding, and then I could really cry some tears of relief to access this care that I had been wanting all along. 

A Need for Safety

I am more and more coming to realize how important it is for me to apply self-empathy as emotional first aid before I can even begin to think about having the spaciousness for empathy for the other person in the conflict. 

I had an argument with my stepson. We had leftovers from the day before, but only enough for one plate. We had other food available (two bags of chicken wings in the freezer), so I ate it. When he found out, he got very angry with me. I don't even remember what he said, but he had a very sarcastic tone. I told him, "You have a right to be angry about the food. But you don't have a right to speak rudely and disrespectfully to me." He continued anyway. So I said, "You can talk to me when you're done having your tantrum, but you can't speak to me now in this way." I left the room. 

Later, I saw that he had cooked an entire bag of wings. I told him that it doesn't seem fair that he will take an entire bag for himself and then leave one bag for the other two people in the house. He told me, "It sucks, doesn't it?" I started to get upset again and repeated I didn't want him speaking to me in a rude way, but he continued. At this point I started to get really upset, and went upstairs to cry. I needed to simply sit with myself and validate that it was painful to receive that treatment. 

How Relating from Trauma Disrupts the NVC Process

Looking back at the situation, there was something else at play. Sometimes his mannerisms remind me of my abusive ex husband. The speaking in Spanish with the same accent, the sarcastic and mean tone, not even waiting for me to finish my sentence before starting to speak over me, interrupting me without addressing what I said, the complete lack of care of my emotional state, ignoring my requests for respectful dialogue, etc. 

When these things happen, I notice that though rationally I know this is not the same thing, there is an emotional response that becomes greater and greater, throwing me into fight or flight mode. Emotionally it feels like I'm arguing with my ex husband again, and there are two states existing at the same time - my mental rational state, and the emotional reactive state. And generally, the mental rational state starts to recede while the emotional reactive state starts to take control and make it difficult to think clearly. 

While in NVC it would be said that I had a judgment that caused an emotional response, I don't think that's exactly what happened. I believe there was an emotional implicit memory that was activated. And in this reaction, I felt that I am not safe. Mentally, I might then make a judgment that this person is not safe to talk to or be emotionally vulnerable with (which is what happened in the conversation). But the bodily sensation of lack of safety and resultant fight or flight reaction is not a mental judgment, but a biological preservation technique. It's as conscious and deliberate as a sneeze. 

The overwhelm to the nervous system shuts down my ability to be at choice in how I want to live and respond. This is compounded by being highly sensitive to other people's emotional states, likely an ingrained response due to growing up with a highly emotionally dysregulated, volatile and manipulative mother. Because of this, safety is very, very important to me. 

After Effects: What is needed to continue the reparation process?

The next day, he asked me how I am and if I feel better. I said I did feel better, but I still don't like the way he spoke to me. He said he was sorry, and that he did that because he was angry. At that moment I noticed almost like a switch flip in me moving him from the "unsafe" to "safe" category. What my gut instinct really needed was to see that he understood his own impact on me and that it wasn't OK. 

In my past abusive and traumatic experiences, the people who were supposed to be the closest to me and most loving of me weren't capable of this, and I felt despair in situations that I couldn't escape from. This had made me want to avoid him altogether, although naturally another part of me wanted harmony in the home as well as a good relationship with him. However, my own need for safety made it harder for me to be the first one to approach him. As well, avoidance is a sign of lingering unprocessed trauma. 

From there it was a lot easier for me to open myself vulnerably to let him know I care about him and treat him as my own, and made a request asking him what can we do the next time so that we can continue to have a good relationship together. We both agreed that if we're angry we will leave the conversation and talk after we've regulated ourselves. But if he hadn't been the first to approach me, perhaps it would've taken a day or two longer for me to work up the courage to open myself, when a part of me resisted placing myself in what it believed would be a similar situation to the past.

Learning How to Say "Yes" to Myself

Being able to have empathy for others requires a level of resilience and a resourced state that is not fully addressed in the NVC training I've had up to now. (I've been practicing and doing courses for about a year) Most of the time I'm advised to leave the conversation and get empathy from another person, but it doesn't address nervous system regulation or having an understanding of how expectations for giving all of my attention might be a big ask when my trauma is around "erasure of self"; not having any consideration at all for my emotional needs and even being punished for trying to take up space. 

The result has been to learn to meet my own needs and not ask others to meet them...even giving up hope that that could be possible. It also made me fiercely protective of my own energy when demands are placed on me to provide something when I can't reasonably ask for it to also be returned to me. 

When I first learned about NVC and saw that invariably the onus was on the person who has NVC skills to hold space for the other person, I rightfully had an unagreeable sensation of contraction, and worry for my own needs not being met in the situation. I thought, "Is it really true then, that I have to always forego myself first in order to connect with someone else?"

When I first started to learn it was because I wanted more harmony in how I relate to others. I have already been doing other self-development work and coaching aside from my NVC practice, but I'm seeing more and more how important it is to make NVC something I do for myself instead of for other people. In a sense, NVC is a strategy to serve life itself. If it doesn't first address the living energy of needs in myself, and if I'm not fully grounded in that, then how can my practice with others be anything but incomplete, inauthentic and ultimately ineffective?

After this experience, I see more and more the necessity of becoming intimately connected with my own body and the ways that it speaks to me. It's important to know when I'm starting to become disregulated and not to let it take over the direction of the dialogue. There is a question I've come up with that will help me to know when I can continue, and when I need to stop: 

Am I resourced enough in this moment to have space for empathy for the other person?

If I cannot in good faith answer with a full yes to this question, that means I need empathy myself, and need to stop the dialogue. Naturally, my body is trained up until now to search for moments of lack of safety and respond by going into fight or flight. (generally fight, to be honest) But this doesn't meet my need for choice and autonomy. It means being intimately connected to my own body, allowing it to speak to me and let me know what it needs. And that when I stop the dialogue, it's not in order to come back more prepared to give empathy to another person, but to provide myself what I need because I am worthy of being cared for. 

This is an act of care and love meant to build trust in myself. It's moving from a place of coercion ("I need to answer to the other person's needs RIGHT NOW") to a place of choice ("I have a right to tend to myself, regardless of how the other person feels or thinks what I should do"). It means saying yes to myself first, when I have always been trained to say no.

I think this is the piece I was missing when I first read that I need to focus my full attention on the other person's message when giving empathy, even when it comes out in jackal. I wasn't told anywhere that I fully deserved this for myself first. Going forward, I believe that my nervous system can be more at ease and learn to trust me more as I consciously choose strategies that serve the most vulnerable parts of me. When I do this, the life energy can fully flow in myself. When I am connected to life energy within me, then I no longer rely on others to provide this connection. Instead, feeling the flow of life between myself and others becomes a gift, instead of a demand.

Automatic cringe

 I had an experience this morning that actually has happened to me various times in the past. Generally I would remember something in the past that makes me cringe, and my instant reaction is either to make a noise or even say something like "Nope, never again, ugh, stupid!" It's almost as if I would violently push against feeling whatever it was that comes along with a random memory. 

Today, instead of leaving it at the pushing away part, I decided to bring presence to myself to fully find out what about this memory actually made me react this way. So I took a breath, put my hand on my heart, and tried to connect to the sensation of the emotion in my body. However, this was fleeting, and I couldn't get as much information this way. It's probably because I was so used to instantly reacting with a shutting down or repressing of the feeling that it had already settled back down under the layers. 

So instead I began to think about the memory itself. It was when I was a teenager and there was a boy who was pursuing me because he liked me. I had flashes of moments when he would pressure me to say yes when I had already said I'm not interested. Often this would take place in front of a group of people, and I felt like I was being put on display against my will. I asked myself, "What is it about these incidents that makes you feel uncomfortable?" And the easiest way to access it is to begin thinking in jackal, and making judgments about how stupid he was, how unfair that I had to keep saying no and it wasn't accepted. That I was put in situations that were uncomfortable and embarassing, for other people to watch and comment on or laugh about. 

When I continued to celebrate the jackal, I started to see what was important for me. I wanted to be respected, to be listened to when I said no. I didn't want to be forced to say no again and again. I didn't want to be put in embarassing situations where my autonomy wasn't respected. Yes, I wanted autonomy, free from manipulation or coercion. I wanted to make my choices and for my own inner wisdom to be respected, rather than someone thinking they know better than me what I want and just need to wear me down until I change my answer. 

When I said the last two sentences, I felt a relaxation in my chest and could sigh in relief. My body didn't need to clamp down on that vague discomfort. I felt validated in my experience of this situation. It felt good to see what it was that made it uncomfortable, and connect with what was really important to me. I could only do that if I was fully present with myself; not only with what was happening in my body, but using my jackal language as the doorway to find out what was important to me. And although it happened a long time ago, this need is still very much alive in me: a need to be at choice, for acknowledgment and respect for my inner wisdom. And also, time to digest and connect with what I want, before being pressured to give an answer that the other person wants to hear. 

Navigating conflict while in pain

 Last night I had a conflict with my husband. I was watching a TV drama that had a very sad part to it, and I started to tear up. My husband came from the kitchen, came over to me as I wiped my tears, and peered close to my face. Then he began to laugh a lot. I got angry and cursed at him to leave me alone, which made him laugh even more. He said something like, "I love you because you are sensitive, and also so stupid" and made as if to hug me, but I pushed him away and again told him to leave me alone. I finished the show, then told him it was fucked up that he saw me having a private and vulnerable moment and chose that time to laugh at me and call me sensitive and stupid. He apologized profusely and said he was just joking, but I was too hurt and angry to listen and left for the bedroom.

I decided to practice giving myself some self empathy because I did not have the capacity or feel safe to ask to coregulate with him at that time. I first celebrated my jackals by voicing in my head what was really upsetting me: "What the hell is wrong with him? What kind of person laughs at someone else for having emotions?" There was still a small part of me that knew that there is probably something missing to the story, and that usually I can rely on him to be accepting and safe, and it's just a matter of discussing what was going on so we can understand each other better. However the part of me that was hurt had a belief that he was no longer safe, and doubted the entire foundation of the relationship over one mistake.

 From listening to a workshop with Arnina Kashtan, I knew that at the basis of every judgment was a need. So I knew it was important to fully allow and voice the judgments (celebrate the jackal) before I could get to the next step of the process. I'd recently received an e-mail from Sarah Peyton about healing trauma with self resonance, and decided to use the technique of saying my own name to myself when making guesses on feelings and needs. 

I began by saying, "Christina, I know it really hurts. It hurts a lot. It's so painful to be laughed at, to be told you are sensitive and stupid." When I put words to it, the feeling increased and there were more tears. But when I tried to continue to talk to myself, to say it makes sense how I feel, that I want to have respect, etc., I noticed that I started to feel distance from my feelings and body. I realized that the more words I used, the more I went into my head, and the further away I went from directly experiecing the feelings and sensations in my body. So instead, I stuck with just repeating what felt true for me: that it was so hurtful to hear those things, it was painful to receive laughter. I found the more I simply said what felt true, the more I felt validated in my feelings in the sense that there was space for my experience of reality, that I was allowed and affirmed in my experience. And this actually brought a feeling of safety and relaxation in expression, in the form of sadness and tears. When this is allowed, then it's easier for the emotion to express and come to completion. In the past, I might've tried to rationalize and make plans on discussions before I tended to what was alive in me. Now I recognize it as a form of emotional bypassing. 

This was a very valuable experience. It affirms how the less you "do" when giving empathy, the more space there is to be fully present. It's not about what I rationalize or affirm or validate verbally, but a quality of being with. Simply being a witness, and creating a co-relational space for someone to authentically express is enough. It is far more effective not to think of what to say, but to find the words that someone has said that felt the most alive in them, and then offer them back, like a mirror. 

Once I was fully able to express these things, I could start to access the needs underneath: I wanted to fully be myself. I wanted to not be laughed at or ridiculed - and when removing other people from the equation, I wanted to feel safe in fully being myself and expressing myself. And I knew that I cannot rely on other people to make it safe for me all of the time, because people are imperfect. So the only way to feel safe is to create that acceptance and safety in myself. So I held myself in a tight hug, and I told myself, "Christina, I love you no matter how you are." I would pause to let that land fully in my body before saying it again. I made the intention to not only hear words, but feel the energetic intention behind them, and be both the giver and receiver of this intention, fully being present with myself, and connected to myself both emotionally and physically by touch. 

The next day I asked for an explanation from him, and he regretted using the word "stupid" as it sounds harsher, and maybe silly would've been better. He did not understand that I really hate when people examine my face and interrogate me about crying when I'm just trying to enjoy my show in peace without feeling like I have to guard my feelings or put on a show for other people. And he explained that at first he laughed because of my angry reaction to his innocuous question, but then started to laugh even more because he felt pain in his chest and could barely talk, so he was actually laughing at the situation and not at me or my feelings. He did not come to soothe me or calm me down because when he's upset he prefers to be left alone. So this confirms that when something happens that seems to have no explanation, there usually is one that I just don't have access to yet. There is no need for a finality or for one argument to change the meaning of a relationship. Misunderstandings happen when we let our judgments be the closing argument instead of the opening one. 

Reflections on an on again, off again friendship

 There is a dynamic in a friendship that I have in which we would be close, but at some point something would happen that would lead to me feeling unsafe, and I would withdraw or make my availability scarce. The last time this happened, I didn't speak to this person for 7 months. The lack of safety was brought up in me when I had a panic attack as a result of speaking with this person, which scared me because I don't have any history of panic attacks or generalized anxiety disorder. Though it wasn't intentional and the conversation seemed civil, there was something in me that at the time I was not equipped or resourced to handle. 

Since then I've begun learning NVC, as well as doing my coaching work where I build my capacity to feel and experience strong emotions. I also developed self-empathy skills to start to identify my feelings and needs more, as well as be able to connect with the living energy of the need - which helps me to have a direct experience of my truth, rather than intellectualizing the feeling or need. 

We recently got into contact again and after some candid discussion, I think we have come to a point where we agreed to talk on the phone about any misconceptions we've had and be willing to take it from there to see where this friendship will go, or if it will end decisively. 

In myself I did observe thoughts along the lines of, "Frienship shouldn't be difficult, this is hard and I don't even know if it's worth it to continue." It was accompanied by a sensation in my body that I interpret as overwhelm. I notice that this comes from a part of me that is lacking clarity in what I want in friendship, that doesn't know yet that I can have values about what I do and don't want, and can communicate those needs, make requests, and remove myself from the situation when it's no longer suitable. 

In the past, I might've tried to ignored it for the stubborn sake of having the friendship while ignoring the needs that were coming up. This resulted in self-betrayal, and a more gut level reaction of fleeing when it became too intense for this part of me. Currently, I am able to meet with those feelings as they arise. I can see the judgment and have space for it to be there, without fully believing in it, but without ignoring it either. I see it as an invitation to fully deepen into my own experience, a beginning to the path toward arriving at what's really important to me (need) and a beautiful notification that I'm receiving this invitation (feeling). 

I also notice when the other person makes judgments about what my sharing is implying or asking for when I didn't make that explicit, when they take responsibility for my feelings even when I have said that I am the only one responsible, and also the problems that come up when our minds fill in the blanks of coming to conclusions on why people do or say the things they do. There are a lot of expectations reinforced by social norms that can be so damaging to relationships, even when the two people try their best to have candor. 

Connecting with the anxiety (tightness and pain in chest and stomach), there is a fear that I will get into a heavy discussion. When I am in an argument with this person, I sometimes feel cornered to the point that I have to admit I'm wrong in some way. There is a part of me that is resentful that my good intentions are treated with suspicion, and that my attempts to help are made out to be self-serving. And as I feel into it further, there's part of me that's reminded of my demanding mother, which made me out to never be good enough, always lacking in some way. All of my good points were discounted if there was one thing that wasn't perfect. And the level of perfection needed was incapable for me because it meant being only what is pleasing to the other person, and not having freedom to express my authenticity. 

So in this situation I fear that my needs for freedom, authenticity, and self-expression won't be met. Neither would my needs for mutual regard and trust. And if these were met, I would be able to fully relax. I could take up space. I could fully feel myself, know myself. And I would still have a sense of connection and belonging. 

So moving forward when I next speak to this person, the request I would make to myself is that if there is any point in the conversation when I feel pressure to not express myself authentically, to work with this person to find different strategies to get both my and their needs met. And to recognize that while it's true that only strategies can be in conflict, not needs, that perhaps having friendships or relationships with certain people is also a strategy to get a need met, and in that sense, it may care for the needs of both more if the friendship or relationship dissolves. And finally, that I stay in tune with and true to my needs in the moment, without overriding them to meet the needs of the other.

The next request that I make to myself is, instead of trying to guide the outcome, to simply be open to express myself, and also hear the other person, and take it from there. Just like when we give empathy to others, there is no agenda and only trust that each person already has what they need in a situation. We simply offer presence as it is healing in itself. If I could trust more in this for both myself and the other, then I wonder what the result would be? I imagine that, regardless of the outcome, it would be one that serves the authentic and free expression of life that comes forth through both of us.