On Feelings and Truth-Telling

“Vulnerability sounds like truth and feels like courage. Truth and courage aren’t always comfortable, but they’re never weakness.” -Brene Brown

Hey there, Jesse here! I am now blogging over at a new site called Weave In Wonder. It's the place where moms learn how to feel their happiest with meaningful self-care, respectful parenting & fun play ideas. Meet me over there! 

<3

I walked into Sister Butterfly's classroom with Brother Butterfly in my arms. He was fussing to get down and play. She was sitting with her legs crossed singing "The Itsy Bitsy Spider" with her classmates. I waved her over to us when she caught my eye.

"She did great today!" beamed one of her teachers. "She's so calm, sweet, and quiet."
"Oh! That's great to hear," I say. I suddenly I felt at ease knowing that she was transitioning to preschool so well. 

As we walked out towards the car, Sister Butterfly asked me nonchalantly if we could play at the park next to the school. Some days we have time to go to the park, but today we had to go grocery shopping, I explained to her. Sister Butterfly's calm expression turned to anger. No, it was rage.

"NO!!!" She forcefully screamed at me, her face turning red like the ladybug on her backpack. Then she threw down her backpack like it was infested with real insects. Now Brother Butterfly is trying to heave himself out of my arms, showing no self-preservation skills for the cement he'd inevitably tumble down on. I clutch him tightly and kneeled down to her. 

A well-meaning grandmother walked by us and looked at Sister Butterfly's display, sneering while clucking her tongue and wagging her finger. I tried to block this from Sister Butterfly's view, but I was too late. She buried them down. Her rage turned to embarrassment and then nothing. She stopped showing her feelings. 

In a flash I'm brought back to my own childhood. I was also calm, sweet, and quiet - and I could tell kids and adults enjoyed being around me. But I was also sensitive inside, and seemed to absorb emotions and energy that surrounded me more than the rest of my family. Loud classrooms and even one loud person would exhaust me at the end of the day. I remember going to a restaurant and overhearing an argument at the table next to us, and feeling a stomachache that lasted until bedtime. 

At a young age, even with my wonderful parents, the world quickly taught me that that being sensitive and showing my feelings was something that had to be stopped. Anger could mean timeout at school. Crying was hushed by even strangers. Rage - well, that was completely unacceptable in any place. Even Christmas songs reminded us each year to not pout, shout, cry - even sigh! Apparently Santa did not like those emotions. And because I usually smiled - I think it was hard for people to see me upset. I don't blame them, feelings are messy and sometimes incredibly inconvenient. Like when you need to get to the grocery store! 

So I, like I think many children, learned to control my emotions. I taught myself to bury down the ugly, messy emotions that made people uncomfortable - and show the world what a calm, sweet, and quiet person I could be. 

As I got older and entered college, I had many satisfying and even exciting days of learning and gaining new adult experiences. But life, as it sometimes does, had its storms. I had difficult classes that I struggled in. Finding real friendships sometimes felt precarious. I was balancing a serious internship at Child Protective Services, and a part-time job waitressing. My other college friends seemed to be juggling the same balls in the air - sometimes more - with ease. So I stuffed down any fears, pain, and sadness I sometimes felt and was determined to show the world that I could do these hard things with a smile on my face. I followed my script that seemed to delight people - I was "doing great."  

The problem wasn't that I couldn't do hard things. Because I most definitely can. The problem was that I never allowed myself to sit down quietly and feel my feelings- because that might mean I was ungrateful, not positive enough, and maybe I was disappointing too. So instead of allowing myself to feel my normal, human emotions at the end of the day - I'd distract myself with anything - more hours working or studying, a book, a party, running an errand, food, a phone call. Anything but feel. 

When I graduated from college in 4 years and landed a job right away - it was such a relief. I did it. But something new started that I didn't expect: at random, I started getting these feelings of panic. I'd walk into Target feeling normal, and by the time I got to the home decor section, I had an impulse to run outside as fast as I could, my heart pounding, and hands shaking. Or I'd get into the car and drive to work, and suddenly I'd feel disoriented. I'd sense doom. I thought maybe I had something wrong with me. Am I going crazy? Was I sick? 

These panic attacks would come and go for years.

It's been a long journey. But a few years ago, through talking to friends and family I trust, counseling, hypnotherapy, journaling, exercising, and books I gobbled up from people that speak openly about vulnerability and feelings, like Brene Brown, Janet Lansbury, Kris Carr, and Glennon Doyle Melton -  I started feeling better. 

I slowly realized that when I was honest about the way I was feeling, and allowed myself to feel my REAL feelings - even the hard ones -  my panic attacks dissipated. I sit and let myself feel the best feelings - peace, joy, happiness, contentment, excitement - but also sadness, pain, anger, jealousy, and frustration for a few minutes, or longer if I can. Then I let it go when I am ready. 

Feeling my truth and speaking my truth has been so healing as a parent too. 

My mind is now focused back on Sister Butterfly, there in front of the school with her backpack down on the ground, and I'm kneeling toward her. I don't know exactly what to say, but I know I don't want to bury her real feelings because it makes me more comfortable, and gets us to the grocery store faster. 

I say: "You were angry because I said 'no' to the park. Man you were furious! It's okay to feel that way. I'll stay here with you until you're feeling calm enough to go to the store with me." 

She cried and grumbled for another minute, and then looked relieved.

"I'm ready mama." she said with a smile, and it was a genuine one. 

There are many days that I don't know what the heck I'm doing as a parent, but what I do know for sure is: feeling your feelings is so much easier when there's a safe haven that accepts you, just the way you are, real feelings and all.