I had a tough day yesterday.
An unexpected, unsettling exchange with someone I had considered a friend took the wind out of my sails and triggered a whole emotional avalanche, showing me I clearly have a lot of healing left to do.
I wish I’d been able to say, “Oh, I see, good luck with that,” and go about my day. You know, let their issue just be their issue.
But I didn’t do that.
After the exchange was over, I made it my issue. I made assumptions and internalized the worst of them. I ugly cried, literally curling up in a ball and metaphorically sobbing my brains out. I felt such a tangled mess of feelings trying to take center stage: anger, loneliness, indignation, regret, humiliation, exhaustion, shame, defensiveness, defeat.
I cringe at the familiarity of it all.
I eventually picked myself up off the floor and washed my face. I did some yoga. I practiced forgiveness. I imagined how I would comfort a best friend in the same situation.
I tried to keep moving. I cleaned the bathroom counters, vacuumed the floor. I studied my Vision Board through swollen eyes. I cried some more.
They say healing is not linear but I think as long as you don’t give up, you’re on the right track. At least that’s what I keep telling myself.
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