When you stop waiting for others to let you know you're lovable

Gosh do I have a story for you. One that starts with a recent personal somatic session of my own; where I was being coached and having space held for me by a fellow colleague and coaching peer.

Before we get into it, I share this story because I would bet the bulk of y'all also struggle with what I'm about to share in some capacity. I see you, I love you. And if/when you're ready to get in touch with this part of you on an individual level, lovingly uncovering and alchemizing the pain and patterning that's keeping you stuck or disconnected, I hope you'll consider working with me 1:1.​

Okay, story time. As I shared in a recent newsletter, I've officially stepped into my coaching practice full time (!!)

This shift has brought both feelings of HECK YES and YEESH YIKES, felt in waves that have washed in and out over the last couple months.

I have NO doubt that this work matters. That holding space for and teaching others how to be with their inner landscape is what I'm meant to be doing. That this work is a mutual gift to both me and the folks I get the privilege of working with.

And though...

Entrepreneurship can be hard. It is VULNERABLE AF to create something –an offering, a group, a connection with a new client, a social post– share it with the world and wait for it to be received (or rejected).

It's been hard for me to consistently trust that this vulnerable creating will yield growth, because there's usually no immediate, external, return on investment.

I logically know it takes a lot of time, tending, trust and creativity to build anything worth its salt. I logically know I'm doing just fine with where my business is at right now. And the privilege in that, of having enough financial security and loving support to grow this thing, is not lost on me.

While I'm more grateful than I can really articulate to have that privilege, I was also feeling confused as to why then, was I flip-flopping so hard between feelings of easeful trust, to frantic, doubtful and hyper-vigilance like I'm behind and need to catch up??

So I brought this to a session with one of my coaching peers. Because anytime I realize there's a disconnect between what I logically know and how my body is responding, that's when I know there's somatic work to be done.

What I didn't realize until this session was that not only was I waiting for my my work to be received, I was waiting to be received along with it.

The word "received" was new, and loudly coming up as I dropped into my body and inquired inwardly. What started as a sensation of pulling in my chest, shifted to a feeling of something like a tight web in my upper back. Sitting curiously with that brought a fuzzy memory of little Holly. I won't get into the details of that memory, but what was most prominent was a felt sense of needing to earn love through hard work and following the rules; an internalized belief that in order to be received, I needed to earn it through labor, staying quiet and stepping in line.

Received; as in for someone else to literally take me in. To hold me. To accept me. To say, "I see and welcome all of you and all of this. I love all of you."

Something in me was still believing that I'm most lovable when I meet the expectations of those around me; that I am only as valuable as my work, my outward appearance, and my ability to please in some way.

To be clear, no one ever said this to me outright. I know my parents love me with full hearts. I believe our caregivers are always doing the best they can with the resources they have. And, little Holly still internalized this belief through experience.

In this session I also realized that I want, so badly, to trust that this business can be built on a foundation of the same values I bring to client work: to honor my timing and nervous system, let my body lead, allow rather than resist the ups and downs, trust that when I stop striving for an outcome the outcomes come.

I realized that hyper-vigilance and distrust were coming up to protect me from the possibility of being proven wrong...

"what if I can't build a business that helps people come home to themselves, while also honoring my capacity and values?"

Wanting something so badly and making ourselves vulnerable in the pursuit of it can evoke all sorts of protective measures, in an effort to help keep us safe from the potential pain of failure. Self doubt. Fear. Hesitation. Hyper-vigilance. Hyper-productivity. Procrastination. Blaming others. Blaming ourselves. The list goes on.

I can even feel a flicker of that hyper-vigilance rising up in me right now as I write to you– heart beating faster, shoulders inching toward my ears, a buzzing in my chest and throbbing in my throat... That same something in me wanting to get this newsletter juuuust right in order to have it be received well.

Here's the thing: having all this logical understanding of why my hyper-vigilance kicks up, of why it's hard for me to trust, is helpful... to a degree. What's been more helpful is feeling and being with all of that at a body level.

Facing those parts of me with love and curiosity, sitting with the aching that accompanies them in my chest and throat, allowing the fear to wash up against my insides without running from it or needing it to go away– that felt experience is where change unfolds; where we find peace and new possibilities, where we learn that we can face our most uncomfortable feelings without being swallowed up by them.

Healing the parts of ourselves that cause the most inner chaos and pain doesn't come through wishing they didn't exist in the first place. Healing comes when we turn toward the pain and chaos with love, curiosity and tenderness.

Which might sound like, "oh hey [distrust], I feel you here. You must be here for a really good reason. I sense you're trying to protect me. I see you, I love you. I can sit with you. How do you need me to be with you right now? What are you really wanting for me?"

Learning how to be with ourselves in this way softens and transforms that pain into new possibilities.

Ultimately, I am the only one who can really give me the kind of receiving my system desires. I am the only one who can take me in, hold me, accept me and say, "I see and welcome all of you and all of this. I love all of you."

I'm not saying I, or any of us, should adopt an individualistic approach and do this work alone. What I'm saying is, each of us is our own best ally; our bodies are the experts of our experience, our best source of information. And with that information and connection to our felt senses, we get the opportunity to reparent ourselves.

So, what might it be like to stop outsourcing our sense of belongingness, trust and ease, waiting for others to reflect back to us that we are good, worthy, lovable? What might it be like to offer an unconditional amount of receiving to ourselves, right now?

You might be wondering how all of that feels for me now, post-session. Am I more trusting? Is there less frantic urgency and doubt crashing in? The honest answer is Yes, And...

Yes, And, healing doesn't happen in a one-and-done instant. I can sense there are still some tender leftovers to continue sitting with. But the leftovers feel much more manageable than the full meal that came before.

Yes, And, I no longer feel like I'm drowning when a wave of distrust does wash in. The waves feel softer, easier to keep my feet on the ground as they wash in and out.

Yes, And, when distrust and hyper-vigilance arise, I can witness them as tender parts of me that only want me to be okay. I can honor how fucking. beautiful. that is; to have something in me working so hard to keep me safe.

Yes, And, I feel a deeeeep sense of freedom from the shackles of that distrust and hyper-vigilance. There's spaciousness. There's room to move within it. And from that spaciousness, so much is possible.

This is how healing unfolds. One bit at a time, made possible by our attentive, compassionate, curious presence with what is happening inside of us.

If you're struggling to hold this kind of attentive, compassionate presence for yourself, please know that's normal. If this story taught you nothing else, let it be that we all sometimes need support and containment from others to really get in touch with what's going on in the body.

I hope you'll consider inviting me to hold that space with you.