Hello ♡,
I find that we have a surprising way in which we agree with pain. We have a sometimes subtle way in which we agree with the hurtful narratives that haunt the halls of our lonely minds when we are not feeling good about ourselves. We listen to the all too familiar echoes of lies about who we are, how worthy we are, and we march forward like good little soldiers to do their bidding.
Let me explain.
Every time you believe you are unworthy to be invited or included by someone, you agree with the pain, not only by listening to that refrain, but by shrinking away from your connections - online, real in person, email or phone friends, any which way you may shrink and find yourself being less outgoing, putting out less initiative to connect. You are silently agreeing on some level you are excluded by shrinking back from how you might interact when you feel good.
Every time you believe you have to be agreeable, likeable, and approved of to be loved - you may agree with the pain by becoming quite pleasing and overaccommadating. You say yes when you mean no. You laugh when its not funny. You volunteer or agree to go along when you want to just stay home.
Every time you believe you are other, and there is something wrong with you (on any level) - you may agree with the pain by opting out of things you believe are just for those who are on the inside of OK. You may not wear the thing, or go to the thing, or participate in the thing, or talk about the thing you think is just for them.
Every time you believe you are inferior or not good enough - you may agree with the pain by comparing yourself to other people. We are rarely ever comparing our lives to others as a way to see how well we are doing (except for the strange phenomenon of reality tv according to research). We most often compare as a way to anxiously check in with how we should be and who we should be, and who we should know, and what we should do. Are we “on track?”
Every time you believe you can’t trust yourself - you may agree with the pain by doubting yourself, or by surveying every single person’s opinion you know in order to find a consensus, because surely that is more trustable than you.
Every time you, and I, silently agree with the pain by doing it’s bidding we are telling ourselves those hurtful stories are true.
Here is a gentle idea, an invitation for all of us, to do the opposite of what the pain may be telling us. Our pain is there, ironically I know, to protect us from further harm. We have those inner tapes as a way to beat others to the punch. Those inner tapes want to keep you from getting hurt - so they tell you not the risk, believe good things, put yourself out there because you will just get hurt again. And so they hurt us to help us. (There are many psychological theories that talk about this kind of dynamic, my favorite is Internal Family Systems if you want to read more.)
So, if our pain is trying to protect us, the spirit of how we talk to the pain will be the most important part. Just like you would take the hand of a little child who is scared and doesn’t know there is nothing scary under the bed, take the hand of this painful narrative and say, “I know you are trying to protect me, thank you. But I am believing differently now, and also trying different things now.” And then lovingly do the opposite of what you would normally do to agree with the pain. Post the picture, call the friend, email the person, wear the thing, start the conversation, take care of your body, get out of bed, say no, say what you actually think (gasp!), create the thing, do the thing, believe you are worthy.
And then REPEAT.
Make this a practice.
Change is not insight, it is not a decision, it is truly a practice.
Every time the painful narratives return, echoing through the halls of your heart and mind, because they do return - lovingly acknowledge them, thank them for trying to protect you, and then do the opposite thing.
Practicing with you,
Monica