I had no fear. I hadn’t learned to fear anything yet. As a child I was interested in learning about everything. I climbed trees, and did so many other things that I would never even attempt now.
As a child, you don’t know to be scared of things. You cry when you are sad. You throw a tantrum when you are angry. You laugh when you are happy. Growing up the messaging I received was to quiet my emotions, especially in public. I was ridiculous for crying.
What I learned was that my emotions weren’t important. I learned that in order to be a good girl in this world, I have to smile and pretend everything is A-Okay. I learned that staying quiet and out of the way was preferred. So I did. I just stuffed all of those bad emotions down into every crevice, space, hole I could find.
Here’s where I messed it all up. These emotions don’t simply go away. Eventually they resurface, except this time they came back with a vengeance.
My emotions started coming out in all of the wrong ways. My emotions became big, bigger than big. I was like a volcano ready to erupt. I just didn’t know which emotion would come out. Would I cry? Would I yell? No clue. That’s when I knew I needed make some serious changes in my life.
Promises Kept
Two years ago I made a promise to myself. I called it a pledge, a solemn promise, because it felt more like a rite of passage than a promise. Something was changing inside of me. I was no longer happy with the choices I had made and the direction my life was going.
I came to the realization that I had two choices. I could choose to continue on the current trajectory of my life, or I could make the radical decision to do something else. What that something was, I’m still not sure. I didn’t exactly know where this path would take me, but I was finally willing to go all in on myself.
For years I held myself back, thinking that I was never good enough, pretty enough, talented enough, smart enough, enough, enough. It was a lie that kept me small and insignificant, the exact ways I thought of myself. I thought myself a child in an adult’s body, a doll.
I asked my therapist why I thought of myself in this way? She told me that when there is trauma, whatever part of you that gets injured stops growing. It stops blossoming. The part of me that hadn’t healed yet was still a child. She needed my help.
I talked to my inner child. I told her that it was okay, that is wasn’t her fault, that she is safe now. I cried. A lot. The ugly kind of crying, where there is more snot than tears and you can’t breathe. The cleansing kind. The kind of crying that ends in a worn out whimper and no more tears left to cry.
Breaking Open
That pledge I vowed to myself was merely the first step I needed in order to truly start loving myself. I couldn’t just start loving myself. That’s not how it works. I had to really believe it, and something like that takes time. It takes practice. It takes numerous times of fucking it all up, and numerous times of forgiveness.
I’m still not very good at it most days. I judge myself just like everyone else. I’m often the one that shoots the second arrow into my heart. Ouch. I am to the point now where I at least don’t hate myself anymore. I can find some joy in the little things in life. A sunrise just hits different these days.
The second step was to completely break open my heart. It shattered to pieces when I started healing all of the childhood wounding, all of the traumas I’ve endured.
It wasn’t easy. In fact, it was one of the hardest things that i have ever done. It hurt. It hurt like hell. It felt as though I was trying to pull myself out of quicksand, scrambling for any branch that I could grab a hold of. I realize now that I was doing this life thing all wrong. I was clutching so tightly to the reins, that I didn’t realize I was focused on the wrong things.
The Glass Doll I am the glass doll. You must be very careful Not to break me, For I am fragile. I will be fragile, For I am the glass doll. I am going to break myself, To put the pieces back in the right order.
I have found reasons to smile again, reasons to laugh, and reasons to love harder and deeper. I keep a picture of that little girl on my desk, a reminder of why I keep pushing forward.
Gluing Myself Back Together
I didn’t get everything I needed as a child. Know that I am older than I was when my parents had me, I can see how difficult it must have been. I don’t blame them. They did the best they could. However that doesn’t take away the fact that little Jenna was still hurting.
Here is something I’ve learned: It’s the inner child that needs to feel worthy, valued, and appreciated. And I can give that to her. I know more now than I did back then. She was trying to protect herself in the best way that she knew how at the time.
As an adult, I am in charge of my own personal journey. Therefore, it is my responsibility to heal her. As I heal her, more of the joy she had for life keeps coming out. It’s not easy. Sitting with the truth is one of the hardest things I’ve had to do, but it was also one of the best.
XOXO – Jenna
