Don't make me!!!

This is my mom’s dog, Tonka. Pretty sure his face is saying “don’t make me” be rolled up like a burrito…again.

This is my mom’s dog, Tonka. Pretty sure his face is saying “don’t make me” be rolled up like a burrito…again.

Don’t make me.

That’s the voice that screams at me anytime I’m called by my heart and soul to do anything big. Or even small. Big to that voice could be a facebook post or a blog post or setting boundaries with someone. Small could be something like crawling out of bed in the am. Girl’s got some legit scaries goin on. 

This feeling of don’t make me is one that I know I’ve encountered since as long as I can remember. It was especially loud and vocal back in the day when my parent’s FORCED ME to tuck my pants into my socks before putting on my snowsuit and boots. I know, I know but let me explain. I HATED the feeling of rumpled pants inside tight socks. Who would ever wear something that looked so stupid and felt so bad? That’s what I remember thinking. I would throw a fit. I just absolutely hated the feeling against my ankles and they were MAKING me do something that felt bad. It went against all my good judgments at the time. I was 4. I felt a lot of things back then and I wasn’t afraid to hold back my displeasure. 

I knew what I liked and what I didn’t like. I didn’t like being told what to do. And I didn’t like doing things I didn’t want to do. And I didn’t like when things felt bad and I wanted to avoid bad feelings at all costs and when it was inevitable that I would feel bad I let it be known. Somewhere along the way I learned and conditioned myself and others to let me off the hook. To avoid feeling bad. To avoid discomfort. I got sheltered from my own feelings. 

I have been unraveling this thread of my physical make-up for a while now. But it was only last week that I could clearly hear those words uttered by the little girl within .. “please don’t make me.” I’ve always told myself I was wimpy, and whiney, and lazy, and never going to get beyond these fears. And I can always convince myself that the not wanting to do things is because I don’t like them/hate something (LAUNDRY ANYONE?). In seriousness though, I’ve avoided, quit, let go of, walked away from a lot of things in my life because underneath the “i don’t like this…” was the “don’t make me..I can’t handle it.” 

Who does this belong to? It’s not all mine, this heavy thick wall that shows up each time I’m faced with something scary. It can’t all be mine. When I look back and do regression work, I’ve felt this in the womb. An anxiety. A fear of the unknown. A sense that I’m alone in this. That I am alone in all of this. 

This is the story of generations of women who’ve come before me. A belief that we’re not enough. That we’re not good enough. We’ve convinced ourselves that we will break or something terrible will happen if we’re pushed too far beyond what seems reasonable. So we stay safely tucked in our comfort zones, like lionesses kept at a zoo, safely penned inside. Having most of our needs met by others, with never a threat to our physical safety except maybe a virus or apathy. It’s a pretty reasonable existence except that there’s a nagging feeling in the pit of the stomach. One that if listened to says “sure you can stay here.. but there’s way more for you out there.”

This caged up existence is mine to break free from. The hand that needs to hold mine, is my own. The other day when I was getting on a call with a powerful group of ladies that I’ve been on a journey with for several months now, I was absolutely terrified. So scared that I actually manifested heart palpitations. My breathing was shallow. I felt like a little girl who was terrified. 

Cause she was terrified. My little inner child was afraid that what she was going to say on this group call would be stupid, or that she wouldn’t know what to say. She was afraid she’d have to follow through on what she was going to say. She was afraid she’d have to believe in herself and show up fully as herself…scared and confused…not having her shit completely together. 

In those few moments leading up to the call when everything in me wanted to crawl under the covers and not show up I decided to hear the whispered “don’t make me” with compassion versus the usual shame and anger. I breathed deep like I was her mother and she was coming to me for comfort. The comfort I offered her this time was love through the words of “ohhhh… I see you little one. You’re scared. I’ve got you. It’s okay to be scared.” I visualized grabbing her hand and holding it tight. I mothered her by not letting her give up but through holding her through the fear and breathing with her. In order for her to be okay with showing up and being seen she needs me to see her first. 

I haven’t always seen her and let’s be honest, when I have it hasn’t always been through kind and compassionate eyes. 

This is the journey I’m on. Diving deep into my fears with the little girl inside me who is so afraid of the dark. I am giving her the time and space she needs to show up and be whatever she needs to be. She’s gotten a lot of hate for a long time, it makes sense that her fears are so real to her. I don’t even know what all the fears are but I am opening up the flood gates for her to pour them on me. Together we can move through the darkness to integrate it with our light.. like a rebirthing. Like a lioness being unleashed from her cage to explore the vastness of the lands before her. 

To that little girl…that little person inside of me I say… Be you. Be big. I am ready to love you like you’ve never been loved before. And remember how you hated pants tucked into socks? Well you wear that around the house in the winter now cause it’s cozy and warm and totally practical. This proves that you really can do anything even if it feels scary and ‘bad’ at first. The things that you sometimes don’t want to do are the exact things that you need to do. They are often the exact things that say you are worthy and you are loved.

You’ve got this and we’re in this together. 

One. Breath. At. A. Time. 

Dear one,

What is your little person saying or SCREAMING at you?

What would it look like if you listened with love and compassion?

Can you take a peak back into your past and get curious about the root of the fear(SSSS)?

What does holding your little person’s hand look like for you? And in what situations are you not giving this to yourself?

Are you ready to love your little person more than you ever have before even if that means feeling way more than you ever have before? 

Go for it. 

Xo and love