I was in an abusive relationship with myself

For a long part of my life, I was in an abusive relationship, with myself. As a deeply sensitive little girl, I had at a young age felt very misunderstood, different, weird. As I got older that grew into a firm belief that I was somehow deeply flawed- that something was wrong with me and that I had to work extra hard to prove that I was enough, prove that I was worthy of being liked and loved. I had internalized many of the messages that I received from the world around me- I was “too much,” “too dramatic,” “annoying,” and that my feelings and experience of the world were somehow wrong and not to be trusted. I had also empathed the F out of the abusive and destructive tendencies in my family. I didn’t know how else to relate to myself anymore. 😞😞😞

At the time, i didn’t understand where my drive to push myself so hard came from. I didn’t understand how I had developed this nasty drill sergeant in my head, barking orders at me constantly and telling me how worthless I was. All I knew was that I was so drained, so overwhelmed, and that I felt so much pain, all the time. All I knew is that I was desperately grasping for anything to make me feel normal and ok, and anything that would shut out the anxiety and all of the feelings. After years of being criticized, gaslighted, and left out- I began to treat myself the way I had been treated. Forcing myself to do things I didn’t want to do. Isolating myself from others. Taking out my frustrations over feeling so different on myself. Numbing out with alcohol and my eating disorder. After feeling hurt for so long, I began hurting myself- at least then I had control over where the pain came from. And somehow, punishing myself for my supposed “flaw” was soothing to me. As if that meant I was making up for it in a way. 😢😭😨

It breaks my heart to look back at myself during my late teens and early 20s. I just didn’t know at the time how to channel all the feels that come with being so sensitive. I didn’t have the right support and tools. So I pushed them down, and they manifested into depression, anxiety, and eventually a vicious eating disorder. I had tried for so long to force myself to be something I wasn’t. I just wanted to belong, to fit in. I just wanted to be able to get through a day without crying. I had carried the weight of the world and my past trauma for so many years, and I was surviving the best way I knew how. 🤷‍♀️

But the truth is that you can only carry on like that for so long. Something has to give. When you keep trying to pound a round peg into a square hole it eventually loses it’s true form. As sensitives, we have to learn to find a lifestyle that works WITH our true nature, not against it. We must learn to love the truth of who we are and seek community and support around our unique gift. I am grateful for the experiences I have been through, as dark as they were, because they taught me the importance of these things. The importance of creating a healthy relationship with yourself, and your sensitivity. And most of all, how through doing that, you can rise from the ashes into a power, confidence, and peace you never knew possible. 🌟🦄💫🙌💛