Something has stirred up in me since writing my last blog entry. It is based around the memory of being told:
“You are entitled to feel however you want to, but it doesn’t mean you’re not wrong for feeling that way”.
As humans made in the image of God, we are made with a need for connection. True, honest connection is something I crave deeply. Loneliness has been a part of my life for as long as I can remember – people talk of ‘being in a crowded room yet still feeling lonely’ and this is something I feel to my core. I know I have spoken before about a desire for belonging but struggling to feel I ‘fit’ anywhere and I can’t work out how much of this links together.
I’ve been sitting with the question of why having my feelings dismissed hurts so deeply – it is one of my biggest triggers still today.
1 Corinthians 12:26 tells us: If one part suffers, every part suffers with it; if one part is honoured, every part rejoices with it.
I don’t recall having a relationship whereby someone else feels sadness or hurt if I am suffering.
This may be hurtful to some people in my life – there may be people who read this and think, “I hurt when you hurt. I care when you are suffering” – but the truth is I don’t feel it, though I am happy to take ownership of that; it is likely more of a ‘me’ problem than it is an ‘other people’ problem! Journalling has possibly uncovered some of the root causes and these link to my suffering being the object of someone else’s pleasure – stark contrast to what is written in 1 Corinthians 12:26.
I have memories of suffering at the hands of men at an age where I had no opportunity to protect myself. Suffering at the hands of others isn’t okay at any age – and I am not here to minimise the suffering of anyone – yet there is something about suffering being inflicted on a child that boils my blood in a way that nothing else does. Children being unloved, being undervalued, not being met with curiosity and understanding of their behaviours – indeed children being subject to any form of neglect or abuse – makes my entire body rage within. Interestingly, wrong doings inflicted upon me as a child are the only ones I seem to manage to hold myself guilt free for – that level of grace toward myself drastically disappears for post-18 me!
Getting back on track, I learned at a young age that my suffering wasn’t important to others – that my suffering was a mere byproduct of others’ joy and that that was okay. I learned that expressing my opinions, or indeed my pain, caused anger in others and my mantra became, “People only love you when you’re happy”. I’d tell myself on repeat, “Get a grip, people only love you when you’re happy” until I could push back the pain and the tears and force some kind of half-smile back onto my face. I, as a person, was irrelevant.
Moving forwards to my time in an abusive relationship, this was again reinforced. As things progressed, I was reminded that my views didn’t matter – in fact, they were all wrong – and that my opinions were irrelevant. During my days of early recovery from this long-term relationship, I had an awful experience where, again, my suffering was a by-product of someone else’s pleasure. I didn’t hold value as a person in my own right. It all sounds pretty awful, and on reflection I suppose it is. But the real pain – the reason it hurts so deeply is this:
I just wanted to be seen. And when I was seen, to then be accepted.
So nowadays it remains a huge trigger. Being told my emotions are ‘wrong’ leaves me back in that place of being unseen and irrelevant. My deepest desire is to be able to express to someone how I feel and for them to place their own initial reaction aside and say, “I see you’re hurting. That matters to me, and I want to understand more”.
We all make mistakes when we are in pain – I think my life experiences have blessed me with the gift of being able to easily look beyond behaviours and instead seeing the hurt and vulnerability behind them. It helps me build strong relationships with the often marginalised, young people I am blessed to work with. It helps me be a fiercely loyal, accepting and grace-filled friend and partner. Yet it also leaves me vulnerable to a deeper level of pain than most when this is not reciprocated.
The impact this has on my life today is huge – the layers that I am peeling back bring about newfound curiosity, sadness, fears and freedom. Instances where people pull away when I don’t behave as they ‘expect’ take me back to the young girl who’s suffering didn’t bring about the suffering of others. Instances where my tears aren’t met with care and love take me back to the relationship where my emotions were irrelevant and I’d be left sat crumpled on the floor in tears as he walked away.
Connection is summed up for me in that 1 Corinthians verse – it’s where the bond is so strong that my suffering moves someone so deeply that they suffer too. It’s when my victories move someone so deeply their heart overflows with rejoicing.
I’m not sure why I have such a blockage to either feeling or accepting that level of connection in my life. I’m not sure if it is there, and I am just not seeing it. I’m not sure if I have a barrier up that used to serve a purpose of keeping me safe but now needs taking down. I’m not sure if it is linked to having an autistic brain that struggles with these social-emotional parts of life.
But what I do know is that it remains a trigger, a weakness, that has a hold on my life that I am determined to address. And that is what I plan on unpacking next week – what is really going on and, more so, what can I do about it?
For today, however, I will rejoice in the fact that God’s power can and will be glorified through that weakness. And that, whether I feel it or not, my suffering makes Him suffer too – which is the connection that matters above all others.
2Corinthians 12:9: But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore, I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me.
