To End the Year
I’ve written a grand total of two blogs in the last two years. I’m a writer. I process my feelings through writing. I’ve thought about writing more. But honestly, I haven’t had the bandwidth to do the vulnerability thing. I know people go “dark” for all kinds of personal reasons and I feel like I’m finally in a place to write a few words about why I’ve been there for such an extended period and to wrap up 2023 and leave it in its place.
In early 2022 I was at my wits end. I wasn’t sure what was causing it, only that I found myself feeling dysregulated, sad, and out of control a lot, especially with issues dealing with my three boys.
Being unsure of what was causing my constant discomfort I did what I often recommend people do when they are in this place; I hired a professional coach. Those of you who know me well, know I am no stranger to the space of “healing trauma.” Yet, this was vastly different. This coach didn’t do the “talk it out” thing. She did the “where does it hurt the most” and go in and rip it out thing! I addressed childhood trauma in ways that I didn’t even know were possible.
Being deep in trauma work made me feel like I was in between ‘selves.’ My former self which was riddled with a need so deep to please people and let them feed on me, and an exhaustion that I’m only beginning to fully understand. A me that no matter how much I thought I loved and valued myself, still couldn’t ask for what she needed or take time to just be alone and let the dust of my life settle. A me that had relationships where I was supposed to ‘be the good girl” and give them what they needed even if I didn’t want to. Then there was the me on the other side of healing trauma who feels totally connected to myself and full of insane intuition. Knowing almost instantly if something feels right/wrong. A me that can be still and quiet and listen to her thoughts. A me that has been restored to the best of what was there as a child. Being between selves is a wild ride!
My romantic partnership of seven years almost ended three times during this period. Things were changing so rapidly in me, and the holes and weaknesses of our relationship got exposed in major ways. This is the greatest, most cherished romantic relationship of my life and yet when things clear from your body, you recognize patterns and past interactions that are no longer in alignment with a more healed version of you. I will forever and always be grateful to this man for standing through the storms I had to endure, and for standing amidst his own storms. Healing in relationship together is the messiest most beautiful thing I can think of for two humans who choose to be together.
Late last spring I learned that my pain in parenting was me trying to redo my own childhood, which was wrought with aloneness, confusion and having no adult around to help me figure it out. I was trying to be my boys’ coach, their mom, their trauma specialist, and their shield. My coach helped me learn my job is to “prepare not protect.” I let go of trying to be their support person and allowed myself to just be their mom. When they got into pain individually, I hired a coach for them. Today I can witness their pain and not feel responsible for fixing it or ‘helping them.’ I hold them very big and know that they have so many tools to work out their struggles and if they need help, they know they can ask. It’s been amazing to watch them blossom on their own, with me out of the way.
In early 2023 I began a yearlong training with my trauma coach. I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do with the training, only just that I needed the tools in my coaching toolbox because people are suffering and the more I know, the more I can support. We have met for four in person weekends and had four-hour trainings every other week. It has been A LOT. But thankfully with what the summer and fall were going to bring, it was a literal godsend to be in a room with people who can listen, support and care deeply about what other humans are going through.
On my family beach trip this summer I got a text message from an old client that let me know a beautiful soul that I had worked with briefly had committed suicide. My entire existence as a coach and human was rocked. I walked around the beach for days wondering if I could have done anything to help or if any of us who knew this person should have “known.” It took weeks for the numbness to wear off and months before I was settled in the fact that I should still be a coach. Thankfully I had ways to process and a support network to keep me moving forward.
In October of this year, my niece, Erika got diagnosed with stage 2A breast cancer at 32 years old. She is one of the only humans I’ve ever allowed get as close to me as she is. I value her friendship and place in my families lives more than I could ever communicate. We meet for coffee every Thursday afternoon in downtown Dallas and chop it up about all things coaching and life related. She is a part of my boys’ lives and shows up to almost every one of their games. It’s been a transformative process to walk along side her in her cancer journey. I don’t know anyone who is kicking cancer’s ass like this young woman!
People always say, “we can do hard things.” There have been times through this year where I wanted to quit. Quit coaching, quit trauma training, quit parenting, quit being a partner, quit my family. I wanted to quit grief because holy shit: GRIEF!!!! This year has been no joke. The last two years have been no joke. Hell, the last four years beginning with COVID have been upside down at best.
I can honestly say I’m not sure if I knew what this year was going to entail that I would have optionally signed up for it. Yet, that is true for most of the hard things in my life. I stand here at the end of this year feeling more rooted in the ground than ever before. I feel more prepared to support humans. I feel more committed than ever to help those humans remove the barriers from their lives that keep them from seeing what incredible bits they’re made of. The hard is always hard and most of the time it is messy. I have learned that messy is okay. Messy and hard is what makes the other side such a beautiful contrast. It’s what has kept me in the growth game for nearly three decades.
May you walk into 2024 with hope. No matter what this past year has brought, brought up or removed from you, know that darkness never lasts forever. Light is always on the other side. We must experience darkness to contrast the light. Grief to contrast joy. Sadness to contrast happiness. My hope for you is that you allow yourself to lean into the contrasts and experience yourself fully! I promise you, you won’t regret it and you most certainly won’t be alone! There are many of us walking this path with you. Holding the torches and lighting the way.
Until Next Time,
