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So I got to the end of Chapter 2.
I absolutely loved the speedo story. I’m just going to rant a little bit about Lani and Dr Kelly’s response to it - they know I love them, they won’t mind - it’s a bit like them ranting about Brene - no really, they should be honoured... ;)
So on the podcast, Lani said, about the speedo experience, something along the lines of “if that’s the worst thing that ever happened to you, I envy you.”
Oh, really?
For some of us, the things the hurt the most are the little things. The daily things. Are they the worst things that have ever happened to me? Nah. Do they hurt more that those worst things? Yes, often.
I have a condition called alexithymia. It’s common among autistic people. People who have it, can’t feel or understand our feelings very well. Over the past year, in specialist autism therapy, I’ve been working on feeling my emotions. Among other things, this has involved 20 minutes per day of meditation on ‘how I’m feeling now’. And other really, really hard work.
A *year* later, I’ve started to feel things, to be aware of my emotions - for the first time in my life. (I’m 41.) And gods, does it suck. It’s quite the arena.
I did a brave thing yesterday. I sent emails confirming that a women’s group I want to be involved with, is willing to have nonbinary members. Their response was lovely, affirming and welcoming - but for an hour, I sat and reckoned with the feelings that brought up. Everything in my brain (and heart - that fragile heart I’ve forced my way through to start listening to over the past year) was screaming “Feelings are bad. Run away. Send another email and tell them it doesn’t matter because you don’t want to go anyway.”
I didn’t. I sat, and listened to a light, distracting podcast, and played an easy game on my iPad, and let the rest of me feel hurt for all the times I’ve been rejected because of my gender identity, and my disability, and my same-sex relationship, and...
Worst thing that’s ever happened to me? Nah. Almost as painful as? Yup.
That’s one of the things I loved about Chapter 2. Dr Brown says that she originally thought ‘rising strong’ was only applicable to big trauma, to getting back up from the big things. But she learned from her own experience that, when we’re struggling with something that would seem completely ridiculous to other people - like, thinking you don’t look good in a speedo anymore... or having to send a hard email - it’s still a useful process. Read the book, though, because Dr Brown’s storytelling is way better than mine, and it might hit you as hard as it hit me that it’s ok to be hurt, no matter how silly the reason.
To use common parlance of the young’uns, my emotions are valid. My alexithymia is valid. The fact that everything sucks and there’s no reason except that I’m autistic and that fucks up my brain on a regular basis, is valid.
Given that one of my big problems is my invalidation of myself, that really matters. I read Chapter 2 and nearly cried. And that’s valid too.
I love Lani and Kelly’s podcast, so much. I could never have got this much out of the book without it. But, maybe because of their own experiences, they missed something really big here. I’m so glad Dr Brown didn’t miss it. <3
Starting at Samhain (end of October), I’m starting a Year of Being Brave. (My year always starts at Samhain.) I’m thinking of this as the preparation phase. The idea was inspired by CGP Grey, of all people, and his business-y ‘yearly themes’. (When I had the idea recently, I hadn’t realised that I’d start listening to a podcast where one of the books they read is Year of Yes by Shonda Rhimes. I’m looking forward to reading that.)
I think most of my bravery this year is going to be about very small things. The emails I would never have sent before. The things I never would have said before. I’ve also got a tattoo planned, and maybe some other bigger things. But I’m pretty sure no tattoo, or other big brave act, is ever going to be as hard as that email.
The little things are valid.
I absolutely loved the speedo story. I’m just going to rant a little bit about Lani and Dr Kelly’s response to it - they know I love them, they won’t mind - it’s a bit like them ranting about Brene - no really, they should be honoured... ;)
So on the podcast, Lani said, about the speedo experience, something along the lines of “if that’s the worst thing that ever happened to you, I envy you.”
Oh, really?
For some of us, the things the hurt the most are the little things. The daily things. Are they the worst things that have ever happened to me? Nah. Do they hurt more that those worst things? Yes, often.
I have a condition called alexithymia. It’s common among autistic people. People who have it, can’t feel or understand our feelings very well. Over the past year, in specialist autism therapy, I’ve been working on feeling my emotions. Among other things, this has involved 20 minutes per day of meditation on ‘how I’m feeling now’. And other really, really hard work.
A *year* later, I’ve started to feel things, to be aware of my emotions - for the first time in my life. (I’m 41.) And gods, does it suck. It’s quite the arena.
I did a brave thing yesterday. I sent emails confirming that a women’s group I want to be involved with, is willing to have nonbinary members. Their response was lovely, affirming and welcoming - but for an hour, I sat and reckoned with the feelings that brought up. Everything in my brain (and heart - that fragile heart I’ve forced my way through to start listening to over the past year) was screaming “Feelings are bad. Run away. Send another email and tell them it doesn’t matter because you don’t want to go anyway.”
I didn’t. I sat, and listened to a light, distracting podcast, and played an easy game on my iPad, and let the rest of me feel hurt for all the times I’ve been rejected because of my gender identity, and my disability, and my same-sex relationship, and...
Worst thing that’s ever happened to me? Nah. Almost as painful as? Yup.
That’s one of the things I loved about Chapter 2. Dr Brown says that she originally thought ‘rising strong’ was only applicable to big trauma, to getting back up from the big things. But she learned from her own experience that, when we’re struggling with something that would seem completely ridiculous to other people - like, thinking you don’t look good in a speedo anymore... or having to send a hard email - it’s still a useful process. Read the book, though, because Dr Brown’s storytelling is way better than mine, and it might hit you as hard as it hit me that it’s ok to be hurt, no matter how silly the reason.
To use common parlance of the young’uns, my emotions are valid. My alexithymia is valid. The fact that everything sucks and there’s no reason except that I’m autistic and that fucks up my brain on a regular basis, is valid.
Given that one of my big problems is my invalidation of myself, that really matters. I read Chapter 2 and nearly cried. And that’s valid too.
I love Lani and Kelly’s podcast, so much. I could never have got this much out of the book without it. But, maybe because of their own experiences, they missed something really big here. I’m so glad Dr Brown didn’t miss it. <3
Starting at Samhain (end of October), I’m starting a Year of Being Brave. (My year always starts at Samhain.) I’m thinking of this as the preparation phase. The idea was inspired by CGP Grey, of all people, and his business-y ‘yearly themes’. (When I had the idea recently, I hadn’t realised that I’d start listening to a podcast where one of the books they read is Year of Yes by Shonda Rhimes. I’m looking forward to reading that.)
I think most of my bravery this year is going to be about very small things. The emails I would never have sent before. The things I never would have said before. I’ve also got a tattoo planned, and maybe some other bigger things. But I’m pretty sure no tattoo, or other big brave act, is ever going to be as hard as that email.
The little things are valid.
