A conflict triggered me very deeply recently, evoking strong feelings of fear, fragmentation, abandonment and loss. In the immediate aftermath of it, I was very vulnerable, raw, alone and exposed. The feelings were overwhelming and very difficult to be with. My instincts were screaming for resolution. I wanted to discuss the issue and have it resolved, so much so that there was a sense of panic around leaving it gaping open as it were, engulfing, consuming, haunting me.
Instead of seeking resolution, I tried to be present to all the fear, fragmentation, confusion I felt. A part of me resisted that very strongly, pushing for the safety of resolution and wanting to abandon the part that was raw.
I resisted the resistance and continued to make space and be with the full range and depth of the emotions I felt. I allowed them as they were—hurtful, disorienting, scary—and I allowed myself to not know what to do, to not know how to be with this, to not know how to cope. I allowed myself to be comfortable with being uncomfortable.
I showed up and I was with the part of me that felt least deserving of my presence. I stayed with it when I most wanted to run away from it and I held it, with all the suffering and mess it both felt and caused. I saw and held myself, for who I was, integrating the urge to resolve and fix myself—which essentially is the urge to be someone different. And that, for me, was self-love. It didn’t feel good. It didn’t feel bad. It felt intimate. And sometimes that’s what love is.
When we are there for ourselves when least want to be, when we stop rejecting ourselves and hold ourselves just as we are, there is a beauty to it. It’s the beauty of being intimate with reality.