This post is also available as a podcast here: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/s-p01/episodes/Holding-Space-e2ko12u

Something I’ve worked to do for my students and now, my child, is holding space. I seek to cultivate safety in a nonjudgemental space that provides comfort to them. A key component of holding space is eliminating my own interest, bias, and desires from the equation. This is easier with students because I’m only their teacher for a short time; they will move on to new things and my investment in what they do is limited. This is harder with my child because I will (hopefully) be a large part of their life and, in turn, they will be a large part of mine (they already are.)

Holding space, for me, is about compassion. I’ve mentioned Buddhist teachings before, but this is a key component for me in holding space. Connecting with people and fostering compassion for others is how we create space. Caring for someone else requires compassion for it to be genuine. Supporting someone requires compassion for it to be selfless. Loving someone requires compassion in order for it to be free. The closer we get to someone, the more we entwine our life with theirs – the harder it is to hold that space.

For me, this is easily articulated in the boundary between a friendship and romantic relationship. I hold space for friends easily. I have compassion for them and I don’t “need” anything from them. They are my friends and I know they don’t owe me anything so it’s easy to let them live without pressure to get anything from the friendship. I also feel incredibly lucky because my friends are truly amazing to me, none of them abuse our friendship. If anything, I worry that I ask too much of them. So, caring for them, supporting them, and loving them is easy.

Romantic relationships are not easy for me. I want so much more from my relationships. I understand now that I cannot expect more, but it hasn’t rewritten my anxiously attached brain yet. I keep working, improving. But, I’m still suffering from an anxious attachment problem. I want to hear from them, I want them to be responsive. I want them to care about me and things that I care about. Ultimately, I want them to make me feel loved. These wants are inherently flawed. I cannot expect or need these things from them. But – a good partner will likely fulfill those expectations and needs without them being expressed.

I don’t have control over my partner(s) or friend(s) actions or feelings. I only have control over myself, meeting my own needs, and my reactions. At this time, I’m still unintentionally (but habitually) putting pressure for my needs to be met by romantic relationship “possibles.” I know better, but I’m not yet to the doing better stage. I mean, I’m doing better with each new attempt, but I’m not acting like someone who is securely attached and grounded by meeting their own needs. Not in a relationship setting. I hope I get there someday… maybe by the time this post is released? (Fingers crossed.)

Something I’m concerned about is also something I’ve talked about from other angles: parents inflicting their own wants/needs/desires on their children. This action is the opposite of holding space. I want to hold space for my child that equals that of my friendships. If my child wants to be a doctor, great. If they want to be a teacher, great. If they want to be an astronaut, great? I don’t know how I will respond in the long run. I want to be okay whether they’re working as a mechanic, florist, or musician. I want to be okay if they’re a programmer, social worker, or actor. I want to be okay with their gender identity. I want to be okay with their future partners. I think the key is holding space for them to be whoever they choose to be. Remembering, every single day, that my child is making their choices for their future. I don’t know them any better than they know themselves – I can’t. Trust them, hold space for them, and love them through anything. That’s my goal.

My story this week is about my lack of space in my life.

I’ve tried dating, but I don’t have time for it. I’m a single parent, professor, and dancer. I tell people about my to-do list and I have never met anyone as busy as me. I’m writing a blog on top of my regular work, folks. I don’t do this for pay – I do it for you, and for me. It’s a therapeutic exercise for me that I truly hope helps at least one person in this world.

When I try to schedule dates, it’s usually between two things already on my schedule. “We could grab dinner between my work and when I go to dance.” is my most common date. I go on one a month, maybe. It’s annoying, exhausting, and frankly: I give up. I work roughly 50 hours a week, commute 10-15 hours a week (between work, dance, and parenting), dance 8-20 hours a week, parent at least 21 hours a week, sleep about 36-40 hours a week, meal prep about 8 hours a week, and run errands about 8 hours a week. That leaves me at most 27 hours to consume 3 meals a day in 7 days and try to meet people – or just sleep another hour here and there.

I literally don’t have time to meet anyone outside of work and dance. Maybe the grocery store? One guy that I dated for a while was bothered by our once-a-month dates and we sat down and calculated it. Legitimately, I don’t have time for dating. Not only are 99% of the people I meet a waste of my time, but I can’t fit them in my schedule if they seem like people I want to meet. Welcome to my life: love is an illusion. I don’t even see my friends more than once every 3 months. I think that got extended to 6 months last year, and now we’re up to a minimum of 8 months before S sees the same friend again. I try to see at least ONE friend every month… it rarely happens.

Don’t be sad for me, though. That’s not why I’m sharing. I’m not actually sad, I’m past that – it’s just ridiculous to me at this point. I decided I’m throwing out the apps, they’re wasting some of that precious 27 hours a week I can put towards non-work, non-parenting, non-dance activities… but let’s be honest: I spend as much of that time dancing as I possibly can. That’s why I don’t have time for dates. I won’t give up my dance time to meet someone. The boundary I’m proud of in all this is: I’ve had a lot of well-intentioned potential dates ask me to teach them to dance. I always tell them that I’m happy to introduce them to the scene, but I’m not going to teach them. I go to dance for me, and while I’d love to have a partner that dances, I’m not going to encourage them to join me in an activity unless they want to do that activity independent of me. It’s one of the healthiest boundaries I’ve set and I’m proud of it. I love to dance; you don’t have to.

I hope you are able to recognize the boundaries between you and others in a way that is healthy and helps you support and love them for who they want to be.

I will love you as you are – always, -S.