I think of that quote… something to the effect of “perhaps your true fear of abandonment is the fear that you’ll abandon yourself.” I cannot read this word without picturing an abandoned child. In some way, that child is inside me, and that quote has been true most of my life. I abandoned parts of myself so many times to be what other people wanted me to be. There’s an exercise my therapist started doing with me this year that has been profoundly effective and absurd to me objectively. It’s an exercise in meeting my parts.

This is an exercise that I would have expected needing some kind of drug to induce the effect… but I just lay on her couch with a weighted blanket and close my eyes. I am absolutely dumbfounded by how it works and its effectiveness. Dumbfounded. I want to do some research into this, but I don’t technically have time to write this blog, so I definitely don’t have time to research a technique that is working for me in therapy… no matter how much that might intrigue me. It’s not necessary to know why it works, because it works.

The first time we did it, I met two parts. One part was about age 5 or 6, the other was 12. When she told me to invite all my parts in, I felt like I was in a sea of shadows of myself. I could not have counted the shadows, I just felt overwhelmed by them. The two parts mentioned above were the only ones that were in color and clearly me. I felt like I was hallucinating, and maybe I was, but no drugs were involved. She had me talk to them, she helped me separate adult me from those child parts. She helped me build them places to help fulfill the holes within them that caused them to come up in my life.

My mind unfolded all the things with such ease – I knew exactly what room the 12 year old needed. The walls were lined with flowers, there was a bird – like something out of a Disney movie that flew in peacefully. She was already reclined on a daybed with a book and a cat on her shoulder. It just happened without any work. I didn’t have to make decisions (something I notoriously struggle with), I just knew. I knew exactly what she wanted and it appeared in this picture in my mind. The effect was similar to heaven in What Dreams May Come, as the scene changed to meet every desire she had. My imagination baffled me. More importantly: the 12 year old wounds that caused me to be triggered before? They’re healing. I’ve had a couple moments when that trauma was triggered, and my reactions are more adult than they’ve ever been. I had a moment when that part of myself was triggered like it used to be, but I was able to become adult about it within a few minutes and apologize for my reaction.

Past me was always overwhelmed by these triggers. I saw no way out, as though that 12-year-old trauma came out as an overwhelming part outside of myself and I no longer had control of my feelings or actions. That part of me is calmer and more content than she has ever been. All I did was acknowledge her, the trauma, the difficulty, and build a place in my mind that shined with all the best of her. I don’t know the details for why it works, I feel a little crazy for doing the exercise, but I cannot argue with the results. I still have a lot to heal, but I’ve never felt so strongly that the path to healing those parts is now paved – I’m going to make it, I’m going to be okay. Abandoning those parts is why I was so triggered and pained by my past. Acknowledging those parts is healing me.

My story this week is about acceptance (an opposite to abandonment.)

We reach acceptance after we acknowledge the existence of something. This is the reason that vulnerability and openness is so important to acceptance and healing. We cannot find acceptance if we do not open ourselves to the potential of rejection by sharing ourselves with someone. My child doesn’t yet have the societal pressures that cause us to close up. They know what they like without any outside pressure to like one thing or another.

My choice, as a parent, is to accept what my child likes and wants. At no point do I tell them that something they like is not “for them.” I was a kid that liked the “wrong” gendered toys. I was obsessed with Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, and my parents did not understand. I cherished a single toy that came from a fast food restaurant because it was my only TMNT toy. So, I know how it feels to show a parent something I like and have it rejected. I work to make sure my child doesn’t feel that with me.

We have a variety of toys that might be considered “boy” or “girl” toys, but when it comes to buying toys and clothes for my child, all that matters is that they like it. My policy is basically: the first time they ask, I say maybe. If they bring it up two more times, independently, then it’s probably something they really like and want, so I make an effort to get it for them. Oftentimes, this turns into the pile of gifts for a birthday or other holiday that I hide somewhere until the holiday comes. I then have the cost of gifts spread out and I also don’t buy them new stuff all the time. I’m trying to find a balance in supporting them and being reasonable about how much stuff they get. But, the most important thing, to me, is that they know I see them and accept them as they are.

Don’t abandon yourself for acceptance, true acceptance only comes when we accept ourselves first.

Love, -S.