#5. The One Where We Start Talking...
Our first ever reader question has us working on finding hidden expectations.
As I mentioned in my first newsletter, part of starting this process was reaching out to some loved ones to let them in on this dream of mine: combining writing with my damn near obsession of understanding our minds and emotions. I also asked them for feedback: What day would you most want to receive a newsletter? (Across the board—earlier in the week.) What mental health/self-care/well-being issue do you find yourself wondering about? (neuroplasticity, lympathic system, CBD, morning rituals.) Anything you find yourself struggling with that an off-duty psychotherapist and coach may be able to provide some informal support in?
The question that was offered up to me was so real, so vulnerable, and oh so relatable. Let’s begin.
what to expect from this edition:
New! A question from a reader
Inner-dialoguing–a mantra of sorts
If you want more info and my full disclaimer check out the about page here. Abridged version: I’m a therapist, but not your therapist—even if you are a client of mine ~hi!~ this isn’t a session. dialoguing is an educational and informational newsletter only, not a substitute for mental health treatment. If you’re new here, a great place to start is my first ever edition of this newsletter.
dialogue. (verb) take part in a conversation or discussion to resolve a problem.
league. (noun) a collection of people, countries, or groups that combine for a particular purpose, typically mutual protection or cooperation.
-Oxford Languages
dear dialogue league,
Something I've been struggling with lately. Something I knew would be difficult (my move, husband's new job, looking for work myself, etc.) is actually really difficult now that I'm in it. But because I knew that would be the case and I signed up for it anyway, feeling like I somehow lost the privilege of struggling with it. I beat myself up for having a hard time with all this since I know I chose it. I talked carefully about the challenges these shifts would bring with my partner. In depth and many times. And yet...it's really fucking hard. I think part of that is about my relationship -- I don't want my partner to feel like all I do is cry about how hard my life is and make it so he doesn't enjoy spending time with me anymore. So I don't know... help?
—Chaos Becomes Her (pronouns: she, her/s, and herself)
Hi CBH. Firstly, let me say how brave it is to, not only, put words to your frustration and confusion, but also for sharing that vulnerably here so others can be supported through reading your words—full of wonder and worry, in equal measure.
I fully commit to providing some practical things you can do. Us humans really feel compelled to do, especially when we feel the way you’re describing–discouraged, unsure, worried. I pinky proms we will get there, but first I need you to let me invite you to do nothing at all.
When I paused and re-read what you wrote about all the changes you’re going through. All I could see was how much the ground beneath you has changed and shapeshifted. Everything you knew and felt familiar with changed (regardless if you asked for it/planned for it/longed for it). What I also hear in your question is the quiet whisper of an unspoken expectation: I should handle all this upheaval and uncertainty with grace. I should be mostly unbothered.
No, no my dear one. You are meant to feel. You are meant to make what you feel known. You are meant to be seen. You are meant to be supported.
Full stop.
Period.
The end.
Even if we inverted it, so to speak, What would “entitle” you the privilege to feel how hard this all is? Not planning at all? Ignorance until it blindsided you? Entitlement and rules about what we are allowed to feel reeks of patriarchal tones (more on that to come). It’s not for us.
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