 |
| from here |
Dear Protective Me,
This is a strange letter to
write; I only discovered you exist a couple of hours ago, when Paula started
talking about you, and about Vulnerable Me. (I found myself bursting into
tears, which seems to be my body’s way of acknowledging truth.) Paula suggested
I could pull out a chair and talk to you, but I feel more comfortable writing. So…
here I am.
Paula encouraged me to start
by saying thanks to you, but I didn’t need any prompting – I already knew that
gratitude was the first thing I wanted to express to you. My saddest and hardest times have
been when Vulnerable Me was my only go-to, and I’m so thankful you’ve
taken over in the last year or so. You’re quick to see threats to Vulnerable Me
and to defend us. You’ve stood up for me, empowered me, given me a voice and
enabled me to say, “I matter!” I appreciate that. THANK YOU.
I wanted to say, though (with
all due respect): Maybe you could turn the mama-bear-thing down a few
notches? Just a few. I’m so thankful for your protection, and I know that it
comes from a place of love. But I worry that you’re too often over-protective, and that this isn’t particularly
helpful. There’s something ironic, I hope you’ll agree, about being so concerned with Vulnerable Me’s lack of power and voice that you’ve taken over from her
completely and started speaking for her. I know we find it painful, but I think
maybe it would be healthy to pay attention to her more regularly, to listen to
what she has to say, to sit with her and comfort her rather than rushing to
silence and protect her using one of your many and various strategies.
(You know, it’s suddenly struck me that you may only use versions of the one
strategy: RUN! Is that true?!)
Also, I worry that because
you can be too protective, your reactions are sometimes a little over the top. I
love that you get my attention quickly, but I wish sometimes you’d just quietly alert
me to whatever’s been triggered, rather than setting alarms blaring and hijacking
all of my thoughts. When Alan does or says something that exposes Vulnerable Me,
for example, perhaps you could gently draw my attention to the fact that
Vulnerable Me is feeling unsafe and needs some care rather than shrieking, “DIVORCE
THIS MAN IMMEDIATELY!!!!!” Upon reflection I can see how quickly removing Vulnerable Me from danger is not usually the best reaction, but in the actual moment/s, when you’re yelling at me and keeping me from thinking of anything else, it always
seems like it’s the only one. I think a healthier option in such situations may be
for me (and you?) to spend some time with Vulnerable Me for a bit, just to hear her
perspective and honour her story by letting it, too, shape the Me I'm becoming. Maybe we could even let Alan spend more time with Vulnerable Me as well. (I know this idea will terrify you; it terrifies me, too.)
I’ll continue to listen to you, of course, but I don’t want
to only listen to you, and to pretend
that Vulnerable Me doesn’t exist by quickly shoving her away whenever she
appears. Do you know what I mean? I trust you, and now you need to
trust me too – I can make decisions for myself these days, and to do that well I need
to be able to weigh up everyone’s
opinion, not just yours.
Thank you, again, for all of
your hard work, and for your love for me. My life is better because of
you, and I look forward to tackling future challenges together.
Love always,
Annelise
Love this
ReplyDelete