Purpose, Belonging, Direction

I read a quote today which has me weeping. I’m weeping all the time anyway just about over every single song and everything reminding me of all the love I have missed, all the love that was not recieved or welcome, all the love I failed to feel or effectively communicate, all the love I wished I knew. The love for my sons which has beeen fierce, loyal, protective and still not enough to keep them close to me. While loving me may not be easy, it will also be a wildly unpopular choice for them to make in the midst of their “family”. The quote says this:  I must lose myself in action lest I wither in despair. I am painfully (always the pain) aware of my hunger for a meaningful pursuit and direction and in that pursuit and direction, I may find a sense of belonging and connection and purpose to help me sew together the hours each day between the things which must be done. In those times between the things I’m required to do. I feel lost and distraught and I lie down … run down the clock of my life because I don’t know what else to do. This is a difficult way to exist -it’s humiliating and demoralizing to feel lost untethered all of the time.  Still, as I have my entire life. I have wasted my life trying to become or at least appear different, to be not me, so that maybe just maybe I could be worthy of connection and belonging. It was a requirement I could not meet. It destroyed me, like literally decimated my ability to self actualize. In these last five months of more than a hundred medical visits and medication’s – being physically and mentally disabled – feeling both adrenalized and paralyzed simultaneously- around the clock.  I have wanted to be dead. It’s all I’ve wanted – to get gone. Because I don’t have a purpose – I don’t have a plan. I don’t have a direction and I certainly don’t have anything or anyone to which I feel I belong. I did used to belong to a gym and my job and now, not even those. And for some months, I felt I belonged to and with him. Hearing these songs today felt crushing – The Goodness of God by CeCe Winans and LeAnn Rimes – How do I and Leann Rimes- I Need You and then another song called Fighting For Me, by Riley Clemons. Each of these songs –  about durable, and undeniable love; to count on and fall into, lean into, crash into – I’ve not had that – not from my mother or my father or sister, any member of my family,  certainly not from the man I married. And I feel like I experience this love now -but it is a lie. I have a relationship and I like to call it complicated but actually it’s not complicated. He once claimed to desire a future with me and now he does not.   He is my everything. He has loved me more and better than anybody has ever loved me. He listens, he hears, he comforts, he celebrates, he cheers me. He holds and shelters me. And I can’t imagine living without this. But at the same time, I’ve lived my whole life without it. I need him in ways which are unreasonable- or are they? He’s a best friend, he is family, he is my lover. He is my everything, but it is no longer mutual and I continue to hold on tight and he continues to let me.  I am working with therapistS and trying to resolve/reconcile my reality – the pain and the grief of this, and all of the trauma which launched me into this exact space that I am in.  I am working hard to heal my body, my mind, my spirit. How could I have possibly learned the things about myself- like what I like or what I’m good at or what would satisfy, nurture and fuel me? I must dig out that information – excavate it from beneath decades of trauma, betrayal, abandonment, the grief of never having been well loved, and taking that quite personally.  And the lie of believing I was unworthy and incapable. And now, I have this one person whom I love desperately (of course) and rely on – as my everything and I can’t fault him for not wanting me or this forever.  I also do not want me or this forever.  Who would? I have a lot to recover from. Why must Earth life be so difficult? THIS, according to my therapeutic team is tied to my negative core beliefs. I see how that could be. What a cycle. When people in my life collectively decided I’m “bad,” interpreting my struggles as evidence of my wrongness, they see inflicting more hardship as a natural consequence—reflective only of their own ego-driven need to punish, rather than insecurity or retaliation. This fkn cycle, where I am scapegoated – trapped in a constant state of hurt and disempowerment. Feling affirmed in that each difficult and painful thing is proof only of my badness.

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Just Shut Up

The messages from my family of origin were unmistakable: “We will not show empathy or understanding for your perspective. In response to what we perceive as distortions, we will only offer defense, attack, blame, and relentless conflict.” All I ever wanted to hear was: “Even if I can’t fix your grief or stress, I will bear it with you. Please, tell me more.” Instead, I encountered harsh objections to my requests for shared language/understanding, shattering any hope for healing or a path forward. Curiosity—rooted in courage, humility, and vulnerability—allows us to engage respectfully with perspectives that differ from our own. Curiosity is a choice to explore the unknown. We cannot be both right and curious at the same time. It is painful that so many prioritize appearing (feeling) infallible and in charge at all costs. A shame that this can be mistaken for strength. A need to appear strong feels symptomatic of fragility. The strength which impresses me is rooted in humility, curiosity, courage.

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I’m not angry. I’m overwhelmed.

It’s painful to recall being scolded in shaming ways during overwhelming moments: “Why are you so angry? Why are you so defensive? Why are you yelling?” I percieved but could not name the dissonance, the lack of understanding and interest in what I was going through and how I was reacting. Being diminished instead of receiving support, made me feel threatened/ angry and led to anxiety about my discomfort and the consequences. My inability to alter my instinctive reactions intensified my sense of hopelessness. The persistent dread of not being able to hide my sensitivity only added pressure to the demand to “lighten up” and “calm down”, as everyone insisted I should. My consistent experience within my family and marriage would unfold in this way: Feel overstimulated, be judged and shunned, become fearful, distressed, then angry(and ultimately be crucified for large reactions to unmanageable stress) My unique wiring (hypersensitivity/hyperarousal) and past trauma leave me vulnerable and fragile in ways that others may not grasp. I often experience shame and anxiety over my unremitting discomfort- or as it was frequently referenced “my thin skin”, which is not an inaccurate descriptor, but also was not said with love. The stress of otherwise uneventful happenings can overpower my nervous system- like things which others don’t notice, can be crippling to me. Having come from a family whom regularly minimized and belittled me, feeling disregarded, violated, and on edge—became my default state. As a now sensory smart and trauma informed adult, I do not expect others to accommodate my heightened sensitivity- my best option has been to isolate myself – to shield my nervous system from the stressors of life on earth (with others). Below are examples of how I am easily toppled by technically un-threatening sensory stimuli, which go un-noticed by most(or can be ignored): The sound of my dog licking, a light on in the hall which shines into my room, a repetitive sound, a wrinkle in my (made) bed that I can see from my desk when I am working. A tag in my shirt.  A strong smell.  Feeling too warm.  A piece of food caught between my teeth.  Each of these can send me immediately into dysregulation—fight or flight energy. My nervous system demands that I do anything to make it stop- to end the sensation. None of these stimuli are harmful; they overtake me rather than harm or even annoy me. Sensory overload, paired with emotionally charged interactions, crushes me and calls for days of self-care, in solitude, to process, release the energy, and regain basic functionality. I am now learning to manage in a world which is simply too much for me. Always has been. I am discovering ways to nurture, soothe, and safeguard myself. Some may find this enlightening, even interesting: Sensory defensiveness is a condition where someone has an extreme reaction to certain sensations, such as touch, sound, smell, or taste. People with sensory defensiveness may avoid or minimize exposure to these sensations, and may experience anxiety, behavioral changes, or emotional distress. Having to rely on or keep close proximity to those who will judge and punish has proven damaging 100% of the time.

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We Can Do Hard Things

In just over a week, I embark on a new career opportunity, which I feel reluctant to share about. My boss, and dear friend of 24 years, says that she is happy for me– but the approaching transition has caused growing tension between us. Also, I do

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One Goal 100% of the Time

To remain committed to my spiritual striving is my only Goal.  The singular challenge greater than the massive unlearning– is accepting the fact that my wellness and wholeness permanently divide me from those whom rely on me to be broken, confused, ashamed–with desires to contract/conform and to please greater thinly need to expand. 

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Am I an Asshole-I Don’t Think So(anymore)

I hesitate to share when things are going well because if I recap more than a single minute, I easily get spun up in the axle –the entire history of it all, IT: being the “dynamic” of my (FOO)family of origin. I was, for a stretch, enjoying the perks of total estrangement from my FOO and all affiliated, with the exception of my ex and our children, when my mother’s sister emailed Wednesday with an invite for breakfast this weekend.   Both anxiety and grief were my immediate gut reactions. It is too a complex a relationship for each of us, full disclosure and authenticity are not well tolerated and our connection is not blessed by the others, which creates hardship for her.   I believe she and I are similar in unmentionable ways (sensitive and vocal about being sensitive which troublesome to those who are not(the rest of them)) and it is just too elephant in the roomish and eggshelly for me. I am no good at that and forcing it feels more difficult than wise.

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Breakups

I intended to post about my holiday time with my sons and Sweet Greg, but this IG post led me down this well-beaten path.  I guess I am still deep into proving to myself that my choice to respect and preserve my serenity is sane and prudent.  And off I go, when will I finish proving?  I guess I will know when I know and I will be done when I am done–def the result of having been erased one too many times. My sister’s hosting a gathering of my MOTHER, my ex, his sister, and my children made some shit pretty clear. But only to me, apparently. Before recovery, I would’ve thought this sort of thing illuminated my unworthiness. With recovery, I know better. Best part, I am accused of being the one who opted out of the family. I only opted out of continued betrayal, shaming and generally being spoken of and treated poorly.  Oh and name calling. Kthanksbye.   The continued gatherings without me which widened the gaps, confirm my suspicion that I am not, in their opinions, worthy of better treatment.  For me it confirmed that kind people do kind shit and others do other shit.  Their behavior makes their statement loud and clear.   My boundary around proximity to hurtful people also makes a statement-which I feel good about.  Hate the options, but it is what it is.  Fortunately, I am again managing to co-parent  with my ex for the sake of our children.  My relationship with him is not a choice but a fact.  I mean it is a choice, for my children, I choose to accept his bullshit and his genuine inability to form wholesome connections that benefit our children.  The triangulation with my sister makes my sons feel more divided than connected, but their father cannot concern himself with that.  And even if he can, fukkit, I must and will do right by our young sons.  One of us must model doing hard things.  We can do hard things.  Working shit out, being transparent, being direct and kind are things that must be modeled for them, as well as tolerating hurtful behavior only when required.  Doing hard things is wholesome and badass.  Doing shitty things is ……….for shitty thing doers.  Right?   Me:  Please let’s work things out. Her:  What things? Me:  Lists things. Her:  Why must you rehash and cause drama—invites my ex and his family to gather in her home. Note:  My sister and my ex–Not based on historical relationship—this relationship built at my expense, originating post divorce.  This is vile? Right, in which communities and societies do people do this?  Oh, wait.  Think I know.  The family disease–the gift that keeps on giving.  The legacy of intergenerational abuse and mental health issues.   Who would not feel crazed and broken by this.  Oh again,  I know—bad abuse getters-totally owning it.  I suck as an abuse getter, though decades of practice should make that less true.  Fail!  

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Musings

Broken But Not Destroyed
Day 5 of my Year of Miracles with Marianne Williamson- I have given excessive thought...
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Hug Rapers-Break the Cycle
I have just realized that the same people who demand and extract hugs and demonstrations...
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Soul (Rapey) Sister
After lunch, this weekend, at my sister’s home where she fawned over my ex in ways...
Read More
Happy Birthday
Eddie Murphy is the man. Sober AF and still Funny as hell. I adore Eddie Murphy and...
Read More
1 2 82 83 84 127 128

Self Love

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Faith

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About Wholesome Badass

The intention for Wholesome Badass is to share my journey, my UN-learnings- openly, inviting community with Trusted Others who also are intensely feeling beings. For too long, I felt I was terminally unique(flawed) in this way. This is not true. Feeling deeply, willingness to share, and healing are hard work–Wholesome and 100% Badass.  This is the record of my work, my journey.

I laugh as deeply as I cry.  I love hard and without apology for my intensity.  It is who I am, not my favorite trait or biggest asset, but a part worthy of love, just the same.  I am learning to choose only those who choose me. This is my journey into self-love, learning to be ok when others disapprove or respond with righteous unkindness.

Musings

Broken But Not Destroyed
Day 5 of my Year of Miracles with Marianne Williamson- I have given excessive thought...
Read More
Hug Rapers-Break the Cycle
I have just realized that the same people who demand and extract hugs and demonstrations...
Read More
Soul (Rapey) Sister
After lunch, this weekend, at my sister’s home where she fawned over my ex in ways...
Read More
Happy Birthday
Eddie Murphy is the man. Sober AF and still Funny as hell. I adore Eddie Murphy and...
Read More
1 2 82 83 84 127 128

Self Love

No posts found

Subscribe to Our Newsletter

Faith

No posts found

About Wholesome Badass

The intention for Wholesome Badass is to share my journey, my UN-learnings- openly, inviting community with Trusted Others who also are intensely feeling beings. For too long, I felt I was terminally unique(flawed) in this way. This is not true. Feeling deeply, willingness to share, and healing are hard work–Wholesome and 100% Badass.  This is the record of my work, my journey.

I laugh as deeply as I cry.  I love hard and without apology for my intensity.  It is who I am, not my favorite trait or biggest asset, but a part worthy of love, just the same.  I am learning to choose only those who choose me. This is my journey into self-love, learning to be ok when others disapprove or respond with righteous unkindness.

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