The Self in the Esteem

 The Self in the Esteem

For decades, I've struggled with self worth, self-esteem.

My past taught me early on that my value lay only in how I could be of use, be of service, be pleasing to and for others. It was a lesson painfully learned and oft repeated when I dared to consider another way, that I may have a worth that wasn't only attached to those around me and their ever-fluctuating opinion of me. 

Now, I find it's no surprise that a large part of being unable to value myself is due to having been unable to develop a sense of Self in the first place. How could I consider myself to have any value if I didn't develop a Self in the first place. 

Children of narcissists, of abusers ... children born of and into trauma often find themselves preoccupied with learning what their caregivers needs are during the stages of development when they should be learning what their own needs are. 

This missing element in a child's development creates myriad complications as they grow and develop. Interoception, body dysmorphia, damaged (if present) self-esteem and self-worth and, at its worst, it can prevent the development of a true sense of Self. And these are just the ones I can think of in the moment. 

It's only now, in my late 40s that I am realising, accepting, wading through what has brought me to be the person I am today ... the traumas, the determination, the intelligence, the refusal to be the person I could have been ...

Because the person I could have been didn't break the cycle - she followed, dutifully, obediently, unquestioningly, and she was broken. 

I am not she. 

I am me and I am worthy. 

The puzzle

When you’ve spent the past three decades thinking you’ve had your shit together, only to learn that it was a façade and that denial is, not only real, but also a real mean bitch; how do you pull yourself apart and heal the broken or missing pieces of yourself so that you can have a hope of reassembling everything into something even remotely whole?

This is the puzzle I have been dealing with in every waking moment (and in most while asleep, too) since early October 2019. 

Childhood trauma, abuse, and neglect are powerful forces that, over time, inflict more damage, create deeper wounds, than is often fathomable. 

PTSD triggers seem to come from nowhere at times ... feeling a compulsion to grab house keys every time I take the bins out in case someone locks me out of the house; accepting blame when it is warranted but becoming almost debilitatingly anxious at the faintest whiff that I might be blamed for something that isn’t my fault; the anger that seethes through me when someone innocently asks where I’m going ...

Some of my triggers I have been aware of for a long time (the smell of chicken noodle soup makes me anxious and nauseated; when I feel I’m being ignored I want to just run away, far and fast) and some arrive suddenly, violently, swelling from some unknown abyss, leaving me drained, empty, confused, and wounded all over again. 

It’s bittersweet, opening up these sudden scars, realising past traumas that my subconscious decided to bury. I oscillate between “gods, I didn’t realise it was so bad!” and “that explains *so* much!” and both reactions are valid, if perplexing in their symbiosis. 

As I meet each one, systematically tearing it down to get to its roots, to unearth it’s core, I’m exhausted from the pain of remembering, the effort of disassembling ... and yet, I’m exhilarated by pride in what I’m accomplishing, how hard I am working to help the one person who always took a backseat in my life; myself. 

I work to put these delicate pieces of myself back together, discovering how they all fit, finding forgiveness for the hurt, scared, lost child I once was. 

And each piece finds its place within me anew. Strengthening my foundation. Building my sense of self. 

Me; my favourite and most challenging puzzle. 

Resolution versus Intention

As defined by the OED, a Resolution is: A firm decision to do or not to do something. Stemming from “Late Middle English: from Latin resolutio(n-), from resolvere ‘loosen, release’ (see resolve).” To resolve a problem.

An Intention is defined as: A thing intended; an aim or plan. The etymology being: “Late Middle English: from Old French entencion, from Latin intentio(n-) ‘stretching, purpose’, from intendere (see intend).”

Greece - December 2018

Words have meaning and the inherent meanings of words bring power to the messages conveyed using those words. Consider the impact of some of the greatest speeches held in the annals of history, the words therein where carefully chosen for their meaning, to increase the intended impact of the message being conveyed.

As a writer, I am blisteringly aware of the power of words, so it recently became important to me to understand my aversion to the concept of making New Year’s Resolutions.

Each time the Gregorian calendar approaches the 1st of January, friends and family members begin discussing the concept of Resolutions – some in earnest, some in jest, some even with a hint of sardonicism – and each year, my participation in the conversation wanes markedly.

My hesitance in sharing what I resolve to do in the coming year is that I find resolutions to be strict, unyielding, unaccepting of change, of movement.

A firm decision to do or not to do something. Historically, I have decided to “go to the gym 3-4 times a week”, as an example. I had been resolved. I had made a firm decision to do something. When an unavoidable change in circumstances then happened and I could no longer afford my gym membership, my resolution ceased to be, it failed. I felt, on several levels, disappointed. I was let down by life, the Universe, and by me. I had made the decision and I hadn’t been able to fulfil my own rigid expectations.

After several such disappointments, I decided something I now believe to be invaluable:

I don’t need to resolve. My life isn't a problem to be fixed. I don’t view my life as something for which I need to make ‘firm decisions’. I don’t live my life in such a way that my life needs to be resolved, released, loosened. I my life has a purpose. I live my life in such a way that I am ever stretching; my mind, my body, my goals, my plans… My life has purpose, it has direction. I intend.

When things happen that are unexpected, or ‘against the plan’, as they inevitably will, I merely adjust the plan, I re-aim, I stretch.

This flexibility, I find, is crucial when it comes to my emotional, mental, and even physical health. The knowledge that I am allowed to change, to adjust, to just “go with the flow” as life brings me new challenges and opportunities enables me to better accept my place in the world.

Each year, as I age and learn and grow and stretch; I make intentions… Flexible plans that perfectly fit the life I am designing for myself.

I intend. I intend to choose my words carefully. I intend to live my life free from limiting, damaging language.

I intend.

Learning to Advocate for Myself

A recurring theme in my life, not being "Good Enough", has reared its ugly head again.

I am allergic to the wool carpet in our new house. This is a known allergy and we presumed I would suffer a bit when we moved in but had hoped that it would be mild enough that replacing the flooring could wait until we went, room by room, and redecorated the whole space.

Unfortunately, my reaction to the house has been swift and total. Inhalers needed, skin erupting in rashes... the works.

In dealing with all of this, already feeling low physically (it's exhausting being itchy 24/7) and emotionally (I find I'm still horrendously embarrassed by my eczema, even after more than 40 years with it), I took a backseat. I sat back and allowed Spouse to make decisions about how and when the flooring would be replaced because I didn't want to make waves, I didn't want to add stress where it wasn't necessary. And I started to feel worse. My health, I felt, wasn't being taken seriously. I wasn't being "heard".

Spouse and I got into a very slightly heated discussion about the flooring and timings, etc, about what I thought we should be doing versus what Spouse thought we should do... And why my needs were being ignored... and it was pointed out to me that I wasn't being "heard" because I wasn't saying anything!

I had been grumping around the house, miserable, sore, itchy - not telling Spouse how bad I felt, not communicating how much I was suffering.

I expected Spouse to know - and then was upset to discover that they didn't. Not to the extent that I was feeling it. Of course Spouse knows I'm suffering. It was obvious to anyone who sees me.... What Spouse couldn't have known, however, was how I am feeling, how much it's actually affecting me, how I feel emotionally and mentally because of the situation.

I briefly struggled to figure out why I would have trouble telling Spouse what my needs were. It didn't take long, though, to work out... In various, large portions of my life, the things I said, when I declared my needs, fell on deaf, impatient ears.

Throughout my life I had been ignored. Directly, wilfully, deliberately, indirectly, ignorantly, unwittingly... I have been ignored by my most primary relationships. Not all the time, of course. And sometimes, I was simply dismissed.

Through all of this, I learned. I learned that telling people what I needed, how I felt, what I wanted, even, was an exercise in futility at best and, at worst, in pain. It hurts to be ignored or dismissed and I can't tell you which is worse.

Now that I'm in my first healthy relationship, I'm having to relearn a lot of my behaviours and responses... I'm having to learn that it's not only OK to express what I need, it's essential, it's vital in a healthy relationship.

And I'm having to learn that my words will be listened to, that my voice will be heard.

I am learning that I am Good Enough.