Lately I’ve been getting this overwhelming feeling that I’m in charge of my life. I’ve obviously been aware of this for a long time now, but it keeps hitting home in a different way to before, the last few days/week. I think it’s combined with the deep grief of not having a mum, and never having really had a mum. It feels like it’s intertwined, combined, and merged together – the desperate need to have someone to guide me, help me, support me, tell me what to do, say they’re there for me to catch me if it all goes to shit, and then the constant realisation that I don’t have anyone to do or say that to me in the motherly figure sense. I have friends, I have incredible friends. But just sometimes, it’s not the same. And, I know that having a mum isn’t actually all that shiney and great always, and they don’t necessarily pick you up when you’re down. But they’re still your mum.
I feel like I’ve been actually physically looking for a mum the last week. Like metaphorically and literally. My heart’s been raw and open and crying out for a mum, and I’ve found myself almost looking for someone to be one to me. Like when I’m wounded and lost, or crying and feeling hopeless, I forget that I’m the one that is mothering myself. I’m the one I can turn to. I have been, and I have been this whole last year and continue to grow and deepen in this ability, but this feels different. This feels like an open wound…one that’s in my chest, one that’s old territory. One that’s here to be healed, or simply just heard. It feels like old ground that I haven’t visited recently. It feels like old feelings I used to have. It feels like a place I used to go to so so often. So often.
It’s weird but it also kinda makes sense. Healing feels like you just continue to go deeper and deeper, and as you do, you need to continue to find all the things that lie within you that you haven’t found yet. So just like I feel like I had begun to crack the self love, self mothering and befriending thing, I watch how I then turn a corner on the healing road and find that I need to up my lovin’ game. I need to dive even deeper inside myself to match the process I am on, I am in.
That’s pretty profound to realise. It’s just this messy painful stage that always gets me first…the part where I’m desperately trying to find the thing that’s missing and then realise that that thing is inside-my-freakin’-self. Nothing outside will meet it. Again. Just sometimes, I long for the answer to be outside…for the answer not to be me. Sometimes it is – it’s not like we can all meet all of our needs. We ALL need support, love and nurturance – fuck, big time – but in order to meet that, we need to meet it from inside too. And equally, in order to be able to truly meet it ourselves, we need to feel nurtured and supported, and loved, from the outside too.
I notice on this journey with my back, just how clearly this shows. The more I feel supported on the outside – practitioners, therapists and even doctors (as much as I hate to say that) – the more I feel able to support myself. It feels like a fine balance, one that we must constantly be dancing between and perfecting our whole freakin’ life. But it definitely feels reassuring to realise that because sometimes I wonder what the FUCK I’m doing spending all this money on external support when I don’t know where my next line of money is coming from, but then I really notice how by going to see someone, it means I feel able to fully support myself. But when I fully get left to my own ways and my own nurturance and self care, I get lost. I find it hard to keep it going. I find it hard to fully feel supported. And in a sense, it’s true – I’m not.
Paying for therapy and professional support is one of the greatest gifts we can give ourselves. Just like asking for help and love from friends is. Both acts of asking and giving to ourself, means that we have the resources to truly give to ourselves afterwards, and during. It all comes back round and it is all worth it, even if it can feel daunting or ridiculous at the time.
You’s worth it. I’s worth it. We’re all freakin’ worth it.