Softening

It’s early on a Sunday morning. My husband is upstairs, the radio plays 90’s hits, and a batch of spaghetti is bubbling in the kitchen. I sit cross-legged on the sofa in my cowgirl-themed PJs, pencilling in upcoming activities on our calendar.

I take a moment to glance at September.

Rows of small, dated boxes house different experiences. It’s an exciting fusion of travel, connection, purpose, community - the manifestation of work, aligned action, and unpolished bravery. A smile softens my face. This is the life I’ve dreamt of.

I allow the present moment to flood my body with gratitude - an intentional act I’ve been practising for years to increase my capacity to receive and be present. You see, I’m secretly a skilled expert in casting my own shadow and creating a nightmare from nothing.

It’s a twisted contradiction that’s tied me in knots most of my life: when things are good, calm, steady, stable, or great, I feel vulnerable and exposed to hurt.

In its most extreme forms, it’s convinced me I’ll be in an accident, have a health scare, or suffer impending financial doom. I’ve been on motorways, driving to birthday celebrations, gently gripping the side of the car, praying I get there alive. After my book launch in NYC, I was sure that life ‘didn’t get to be that good’ and that the plane would go down. Ridiculous to write - but they were real thoughts for me at the time.

In its less extreme forms, it can look like control, devaluing experiences, shrinking, over-justifying, disaster-planning, overwhelm, self-criticism, comparison, and overthinking. Fun, right? So to take the edge off my anxious mind, I’d have a glass of wine, overindulge, or distract myself. This, in turn, would create its own set of problems for me to focus on and indeed confirm that ‘life doesn’t get to be too good’

It all originates from a nervous system forged in drama and disaster, then placed in a society where the underdog is hailed, successful females are shunned, and belonging is a tightrope walk - where you’re celebrated for being good, but not too good. Is it any wonder we’re so dysregulated and confused?

The hardest part for me to reconcile is that one of my deepest values is to live a life without regret. And yet what I was regretting most was the amount of memories I’d tainted with this sense of fear. This was one of the many reasons I decided to go deeper into the part of me I feared the most.

Over the years, I’ve been patiently unravelling this knot and worked deeply with my intuition to heal parts of me, to the point I barely recognise who I was before.

I’ve allowed myself to sit in the darkness I feared would swallow me whole. I’ve processed unprocessed emotions. My nervous system has been healing. Not through force but organic flow. I’ve created space to listen to intuitive signals which led me to stop drinking and using food as an emotional support tool. I reconciled with my Dad after almost 20 years and had courageous conversations with my mum. I’ve brought awareness to self-sabotage and increased my capacity to receive (although this is still very much a work in progress).

I’ve softened.

I’ve started to trust myself.

Trust is the key to all of this. I trust that I can receive life when things are good, and that I can respond when things aren’t.

So, this morning - with the radio playing and September stretching ahead - I let it be good. I seal in the memory, all its bright colours and vivid emotions. Untainted. Just this moment, exactly as it is. And I take another step away from the caged conditions that once kept me safe.