Finding

Once again I’ve let far too long go between posts, but I can’t bring myself to write if I can’t bring myself to write. Perhaps why you will never see that book I feel is lurking inside me somewhere! In the end I came to substack not to become a writer but to have a safe space for my thoughts, a creative outlet that could host what used to be called a blog…but feels like we’ve all moved into a post-blog era, although I don’t really know what we call that!

But before I end up down a rabbit warren I didn’t intend, here we are again. Together in this space and I’m grateful you are here and I get to share what’s on my mind. A lot of which has sprung from my therapy session this morning, with my wonderful therapist Angel. We are about to share our fourth anniversary of that lucky day I stumbled across her, in a world of online therapy dating. Matched by the algorithm and I feel the universe. We have walked a journey I didn’t expect to ever walk. Too afraid of what I knew and how to be safe enough to share. But she has watched and waited. Holding space for us all to find the words and when we did, opening her heart to help me pick up the pieces and start to put them back together.

Today she used the most beautiful words to describe my writing, alongside my interactions with people - something I know I see but feel too ashamed to lean in to. It reminded me that I need to write my words in a public space some times. To allow myself to connect with you reader, friend, colleague, stranger in a way I could never do in person. Too afraid of the consequences and of what you may see. But she also reminded me that I need to lean into that discomfort and try. Practice. Learn that this is okay.

This week I’ve thought a lot about people pleasing - having attended a talk with Bryony Gordon on her new novel People Pleaser. Whilst traveling on the train I listened to her podcast with another fan-girl crush of mine Emma Reed Turrell whose book Please Yourself is a must read for any people pleaser. They talked openly how this trait is by-product of trauma. A safety response, fawn as part of the flight, fight or freeze response. I know fawn very well. Make myself quiet. Disappear. Do the right thing. Be responsible for how the other person feels. No, I AM responsible for how the other person feels. The cause and the solution. Appropriately this week at work in the trauma informed staff group I’ve established the subject came up again. I shared my learned wisdom from Bryony and Emma. We all agreed perhaps we could start to practice and support each other in this.

Image @hollyhatamillustration

But I’ve also realised I have a slight super power in this fawn response. The NHS is undertaking a brutal and politically motivated restructure. Which means alongside colleagues I’ve been applying and interviewed for a future role to stay in my organisation. Anxious and terrified in a way I’ve never been about interviews before. My world has shifted so much I wasn’t sure I would know who to be. But the moment I stepped into the room with a panel of 5 other people, sitting with them between me and the door, trapped, questions firing from people seeking an answer that would please them. The super power kicked in. An ability to read every reaction, body language, facial expressions, verbal responses. To make them laugh, nod, respond. All my answers factual and correct but an imperceptible ability to know how they were landing and fight for my life. Released at the end knowing I had done more than just survive.

Trauma responses can be good for something.

I am still trying to find my space to connect. Today a realisation that separating myself from others, feeling I don’t belong with them or I have a different role to them is a defence. I am keeping myself separate to avoid connection, to avoid rejection, to avoid disappointment in them and in me. Safer to be the lone wolf who plays at connecting but never really reveals anything. A skill I have mastered so very few know that’s what I’m doing. Make it about everyone else and it never needs to be about you.

Apparently though I am the main character in my own story. Urgh. Who wants to be that? We never have. Although is that true? Is that fair? Didn’t we always want that but the truth was we were never allowed it or taught that is the right thing to want? Lately I’ve been trying again to connect with people who understand. Reaching across the screen to find compassion, understanding and relevance. It’s been hard. I’ve found it hard to let myself out. I can let them in but I cannot reveal me. Practice (apparently) is what I need. Which means I have to try. I have to reach out and take those terrifying first steps and I think this group is the place to do that. Especially if I tell them that’s what I’m doing. They are kind and supportive and my words will find meaning there. Wish me luck!

It is hard to be the main character in a story you didn’t write. I have many quotes on my wall that help me navigate this one - you didn’t choose the beginning but you can choose your ending, being one. What is different now is that I think, actually I know that I want a different story. When I first met Angel and she asked me what I was looking for we entered a metaphor about a bird in a cage. That bird wanted to be free but couldn’t even get the door of the cage open. I’ve long since opened the door, I can pop out and walk around, even fly sometimes but I always go back to the safety of the cage. It feels that the time is coming when I don’t need to go back to the cage. The cage will always be there. It will always be the place I’ve come from, but look up at that blue sky, high above the trees, there is a world that I’ve never been to and it terrifies me. I am afraid. But I survived the cage and I know nothing can ever be as painful as that place.