I spent much of my life believing something was terribly wrong with me. In fact, I’m fairly certain that was suggested more than a handful of times.

My struggle to exist harmoniously didn’t make me question my environment. It seemed only to confirm that I was the problem.

It reminds me of the quote: “When a flower doesn’t bloom, you fix the environment in which it grows, not the flower.”

My failure to thrive was unmistakable. Overwhelmed by the intensity and confusion of the dynamic, I developed constant, involuntary, maladaptive behaviors. Rather than recognizing them as reactions to what I was experiencing, they were treated as evidence of my defectiveness. And that’s how I learned to see myself.

And then, to add insult to injury, I was labeled as negative for my low self-esteem and the anger that came from living in constant turmoil without reprieve or guidance. It really was an inescapable loop. 

As a young adult, I began recognizing the consequences of directly expressing my needs or limits. I lacked both the understanding and the agency to respond in any useful way.  I was essentially boxing with ghosts. I was taking hits, swinging blindly, and looking completely unhinged (which I was) to anyone watching.

And so I relocated, first across the country and then out of the country, attempting to match the physical distance to the devastating emotional distance.

Learning to identify the water hasn’t undone what living in it taught me—or made me an excellent swimmer.

But I’m discovering who I am when I’m not constantly overwhelmed and reacting to what’s happening around me. And for the first time, I’m enjoying who I am. 

Engaging with life from a place of intention and agency is a far cry from living in reaction to something I couldn’t see or name.