the best part of me

So, the first thing I wrote for the title of this post was "healing a wounded heart."  Then I immediately erased it. Why? Because, first, it made me feel bad about myself, and second, I remembered hearing somewhere that we all have control over our own narratives and we get to decide how we tell ourselves our own stories (or something along those lines).

**I just looked it up and this isn't where I first heard it, but it's the same idea: story editing.  Based on Psychology Today's article Rewrite Your Life,"we are the stories we tell—and we are compelled to create stories to understand ourselves... Our ability to make sense of, and create meaning from, memories defines how we feel about ourselves and shapes the identity we create throughout our lives...We can't change the past, but we can change how it affects us and who it makes us. When we tweak what we tell ourselves about the past, we can redirect our future. In our relationships, through our life choices, or at our jobs, we can recognize our mistakes, move on, and start to embody a different story...Rewriting helps you organize your thoughts and feelings and put them into words. This, in turn, helps you gain perspective, sort out your emotions, and increase narrative coherence—your understanding of who you are, how you became that person, and where you are going."

Exactly.  So I have decided that rather than telling a story that feels self-deprecating-and makes me feel stupid for being a victim in my own life-I would much rather focus on a story that highlights my strengths as a caring, accepting, giving and strong woman.

That doesn't mean my heart doesn't look like this.  It does.  (What can I say? It's been through a lot). But the thing that I have to keep reminding myself is that there is nothing wrong with that.  It is not bad or shameful or negative to have a heart like mine; it is what it is.  It's had some burns and bruises along the way and it is not as carefree and innocent and open as it used to be.  But it is mine and it is beautiful. (Just typing that is still really hard for me. If I keep writing it and saying it, eventually I will believe it right?) My heart is beautiful.

This whole subject came up when a lot of feelings, that were buried down pretty deep, got stirred up today.  A friend at my work that I've known since high school brought up a memory that I had completely blocked from my mind--it was a concert we went to together with a group of friends in Flagstaff, Az 16 years ago!  He remembered tons of details about it and I vaguely remember even being there.  I definitely don't remember how we got there, where we stayed afterwards or much of anything during the actual show. (Well..ok, that's not entirely true.  I DO remember the hippy girls dancing with giant hula hoops in the grass. Pretty great).  I also remember being there with a guy that I ended up marrying a year or so later for all the wrong reasons that turned out to be a deceitful manipulator in our relationship.  Not so great.  (Hence the memory blocking).

This happened to me.  I married a guy when I was 19.  I met him the summer I graduated high school when I was working at the Grand Canyon.  I was a young, naive, 18 year old brand-new high school graduate, on her own for the first time, and was very religious, faithful, and full of positivity, adventure and passion for life.  I had always been kind of a shy person, but had a new found confidence in being on my own without anyone I knew and a summer of hiking adventures ahead of me!  I met this guy that was completely different than me and I was intrigued...he was a Jewish, spiritual-hippy southern boy from Louisiana with a big personality (and I found out later full of hidden insecurities, fear and weed).  As an innocent little Mormon girl, this was an odd pairing to say the least.  Our tree-hugging tendencies made up the basis of our connection and I got caught up in the idea of who I thought he was without being able to recognize the unhealthy behaviors he was exhibiting. These became more clear later on after he came back to Utah with me, converted to Mormonism (which was intricately tied to my identity at the time), stayed in my parents house with me, somehow convinced me to get engaged (this is still boggling to me because I was planning to leave for Switzerland for five months to live with my aunt and uncle as a nanny for their four daughters AND I had always vowed not to get married until I was 25). Well, we ultimately ended up eloping the next summer (even after I had tried to break it off with him multiple times) and didn't get divorced until four years later.  Again, it's hard not to paint myself as the victim in the story.  There are two sides to every relationship and I had my part in it; I need to own up to that.

I was hoping that writing about my experience would help me process the heaviness I feel in my heart right now, but I still feel stuck... so I googled "manipulator in relationships" and what I found is helping me identify why I still feel upset.  A manipulative relationship is one-sided and unbalanced, advancing the goals of the manipulator (him) at the expense of the person being manipulated (me)...Manipulative people twist your thoughts, actions, wants and desires into something that better suits how they see the world and they mold you into someone that serves their own purposes. Some of the characteristics of a manipulator include: forcing their insecurities on you, causing you to doubt yourself, making you responsible for their emotions, and making you believe you want what they want." 

In retrospect, and with the help of google, I think I can pinpoint how this happened. I embodied what can be described as an "emotional caretaker", which basically means "a person who sincerely wants to please others and are generally nice people, but can be easily manipulated by others...They tend to be passive and overly compliant with high levels of guilt and obligation, or fear of anger in others. An emotional caretaker would rather feel hurt, angry, or depressed themselves rather than have the person they care about experience any of those feelings. This makes them highly vulnerable to being taken advantage of and mistreated in relationships with people who are highly self-oriented and selfish."  That basically sums up our relationship.

According to LifeEsteem, these are the common traits of those who are vulnerable to manipulators (I would say also pretty common of Mormon women, including myself at the time):

•  You feel useful and loved only when you can take care of the needs of other people. 
•  You need to have the approval and acceptance of other people.
•  You fear expressing negative emotions. 
•  You are unable to say no. 
•  You lack a firm sense of your own self.

What is the cost of being an emotional caretaker in a manipulative relationship?

• loss of  self-esteem
• increased anxiety and depression
• a growing sense of hopelessness and helplessness
• exhaustion
• a sense of emptiness
• increasing hurt; fear; and frustration.

I think why this story made me feel so upset today is because I was reminded of the part I played in allowing myself to be manipulated. I still carry around some fear inside that some of those past tendencies are going to taint my marriage now; and I worry that I am inherently flawed or weak because of it, possibly incapable of having healthy relationships at all because of my past experiences.

This must be where the re-writing comes in.  I have a watercolor I painted with the affirmation "allow the past guide you, not define you," hanging on my bedroom wall to remind myself to move forward with love, acceptance and faith rather than fear, anxiety and doubt.  My identity and my choices are fluid--I am not who I was and I know the future is not determined by my past.  My rational mind understands this and I want to believe it.  But to be honest, it's really hard to get rid of the fear, anxiety and doubt that I feel inside sometimes- it's really trying to hold on. 

Maybe a poem will help...

The Best Part of Me
my heart is big and full
like the grinch's heart bursting out of its metal box on a crisp Christmas morning,
it feels smooth and strong, 
like a small stone polished by a wandering river carving a deep canyon.
my heart feels heavy in my hands, 
brimming with love and care for the world;
yet malleable, silky and supple,
like wet clay waiting to be shaped, molded, transformed.
my heart allows me to sing in the wind and dance in the clouds;
it is warm and subtle, yet quiet and fierce.
Sometimes it appears fiery magenta, radiating light and sparks,
sometimes it emits a soft, pale blue, like a faint star in the morning sky emulating the brightness of the sun's glory
my heart is regal and fragile, 
wrapped in a royal sheet made with golden threads 
my heart is beautiful and brave;
fearless like a child,
my heart is my heart
and it's the best part of me.

Now this is how the story goes: I value myself and treat myself with as much respect as I do others. I value my own wants and needs and preferences. I set boundaries that don’t allow others to invalidate me, put me down, or ignore what is important to me. I care for myself first before offering to care for others.

Re-writing is the first step.  The next is to practice with discipline. I must change my self-perception and truly believe in the person I want to become.  Guided meditation has been helping me, but I struggle to stay consistent. 

Any tips?  What do you do to keep yourself disciplined?  Have you been able to change some of your deep seated behaviors and beliefs?