Image credit: Angus Gray, Unsplash
Holy cow when I write down the challenges and drama of my last 12-18 months, there’s no surprise why my body has suddenly said enough is enough. The ‘stress’ list actually horrifies me if I’m honest - and has led to lots of honest reflection and realising the common themes.
There is only so much pushing down and not facing my anger and frustration that I can do.
My lessons this week have been big and deep, the least of which have been around my own vanity and self consciousness. I’ve been wearing contact lenses since I was 13 years old, so almost 40 years of avoiding my glasses except for those brief moments when I wake up and before I go to bed.
So much of my self image and confidence is tied up in bullying from my school years and being called four eyes, of feeling different and being the odd one out. Now my adult reality has thrown in a droopy eye that doesn’t close properly (making contact lenses a no go zone)
First world problems I know but self image and how we look to others and to ourselves is so tied up in our identity and who we are. And that’s before I get to the challenges of a lopsided face, droopy eye and a crooked half smile.
I first started my Substack page earlier this year because writing is what I love, and sharing my experiences and inspiring change has always been my focus and my purpose. I wrote three posts and then wrote no more. Life and its messiness got in the way and I had all the excuses under the sun of why I wasn’t writing. One day…
Yes, those of you with lofty goals and dreams who are waiting for that perfect ‘moment’, you’re hearing me aren’t you?
So the words I shared yesterday and these words today are not the words I anticipated writing. I envisaged me sharing bright, sparkling, inspiring words to motivate and move people.
And yet here I am instead of sharing bright and happy words, I’m sharing my fears and my challenges on the page. I am writing of my vulnerability and of my days of wanting to cry and feeling sorry for myself. All of this despite knowing my illness is not terminal, merely painful and uncomfortable.
I’ve been humbled by the words of support which have poured in since I shared my story yesterday, from friends, family, coworkers, acquaintances, people I’ve barely had contact with. So many of who have lived their own challenges and yet have taken the time to comment and reach out. It’s those moments which warm my heart and restore my faith in the beauty of human nature.
I live and breathe messages of wellness and energy and how feeling our emotions is key to self discovery and growth. And yet I don’t actively always do those things myself. I’m an empath and highly sensitive and so in addition to my own, I also take on everyone else’s feelings and emotions.
Life in my world is incredibly exhausting in trying to make everything right and happy for everyone else. It’s also very tied up in who I am and my need to make everything perfect, and whilst always with the best of intentions it’s probably not always in the healthiest ways.
Letting people live their own truth and navigate their own pain is often the greatest gift you can allow them. It’s about being there to support and walk alongside them, not to fix everything.
The irony is not lost on me that when I resisted writing that the universe had different plans for me. You can’t put it out to the world that you want to write and inspire others and not have it provide the opportunity, even if it’s not the way you wanted it to happen.
As a writer I’m also intrigued by metaphor and meaning - so theres a lot to be made of the energetic slap in the face which has paralysed my face, and made it difficult to talk so that I’ve had to write my feelings down. Where I’ve been forced to face my own vanity and feelings of worthiness. Where I’ve had to sit with my vulnerability and take strength from it and not hide from it.
Being an empath and highly sensitive I’ve been absorbing all of the drama and chaos and holding it all within me. Restraining our emotions and pushing them down reminds me of the beach ball when held beneath the waters surface. When it finally breaks free, it slaps you hard in the face…which inevitably causes physical, spiritual and energetic pain…and in my case a frozen face which takes away your smile.
Clearly there’s still some big work and healing ahead of me. So here’s my question for you, what are you not facing, or allowing yourself to see. What are you pushing down and holding onto?
What is it time for you to finally let go of?
Hey Fi, thank you for the beautiful writing, being so vulnerable and honest. Thank you too for the big kick up the pants to embrace and make space for what we love. I too haven’t written for the longest time. Always wanting to write again and not being sure what to say, but knowing deep in my heart that words are best expressed and our love is to write. Thank you my friend. Sending love x