I, as many of us can acclaim, have had some pretty crappy hands dealt to me over my life span. I always knew that it was going to affect me somehow. How can something like that happen and it not affect me?
After a 4 year battle, my mother died of cancer when I was 19. Two two months later, my dad wanted to get married again to some woman he was hanging out with when my mother was languishing in the hospital on her death bed. I was less than impressed and promptly removed myself from his life before we ended up on a Jerry Springer episode. I vowed I would never let anyone hurt me like that again.
I kept my word. I dated people I couldn’t fall in love with so I couldn’t get hurt. It made it easier when the break up came, as I knew it would, because I was always right. “What? You’re breaking up with me? I knew you didn’t love me … I was right..again!”.
I’m now in my mid 30’s and I’m still right, and still single. Coincidence? I’m starting to figure things out. I am tired of not liking myself in my skin and in my life. I start tuning in and paying attention to what I eat. I start feeling better, I start looking better. I start drawing positive attention…imagine that?
A couple of years into my fitness (and I use that term loosely) and healthy food journey, I noticed that my right shoulder was bothering me. I didn’t injure it, yet, I couldn’t lift it without pain. I heard that there was an underground Chiropractor in town that was really good. I found her information on the down low and made contact.
Now, to this day I am not sure what she is, or does, but she changed my life. This incredibly intuitive human managed to pinpoint the root of my problem. Emotional. Really? Whatever! But she nailed it. She said “you are in protective mode, your shoulders are tired for carrying this burden.” Her instructions were to go home and try to recall the last time the last time I felt safe. So being the obedient and complaint person I am I did just so. I sat there and thought about it, I dug a little deeper.
Eureka! The last time I felt safe was the day I went to the hospital with my dad to see my newborn baby brother. I was four years old. Man, that’s a long time to go without truly feeling safe.
Jesus. I wept. I didn’t even cry like that when my mother died. After I finished sobbing, my body exhausted, drained and spent from the effort, my perception was clearer. Hmm. Well I’ll be damned. It’s has been there all along. I was indeed affected by those life events the whole time. I just didn’t see it.
Remember all those times I was right? Well, I was right again.
So what was my price of being right?
- Not talking to my father for 20 years;
- Not being able to keep a romantic relationship;
- Not being able to trust anyone, not even my own brother;
- Not allowing myself to experience the joy of falling
in love.
So what price have you paid for being right?
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