I absolutely love this topic. And I must say for me it is definitely a work in progress, as it should be.
Not too long ago I was having a chat with a friend about this very topic. I asked if they were truly aware of their actions, words, and intentions towards others.
The response? “Well, I think so.” Side note: Our friendship has now run its course. My decision.
Why did I end the friendship?
Because in relationship you both have to be aware. Me being aware I was being taken advantage of. Them not being self aware enough to change the behavior. It goes both ways people. Thanks for the memories.
This is about accountability. Accountability for your actions against others and self aware of your actions towards SELF. Meaning you have the strength to walk away from what hurts you, disrupts you or just simply doesn’t serve you.
Even the thought of intentionally or unintentionally causing pain to someone throws me into a tail spin of anxiety. I’ve been on the receiving end and I wouldn’t wish that upon anyone. Let’s not confuse that with not using my voice.
A few weeks back I packed up Caoihme and took a road trip to the Northern California Coast to write some chapters.
This book i’m writing has brought this topic to mind a lot recently. Escaping to the coast or mountains are always places I find unadulterated peace. I find my mind wanders intensely and freely in solitude.
Back to self awareness.
Take responsibility for being taken advantage of.
Self awareness and insecurity lived in tandem for more years I’d like to admit.
If I was secure in self, maybe the path I’ve walked would have looked differently. I do ponder this every once in awhile.
Ever since I was a little girl I’ve been taken advantage of, most specifically by my closest friends. And what I’ve realized is I allowed it. Then I allowed it to bleed into my friendships and marriage.
The insecurity was the fear of being “left.” Even by people who did not honor me. That’s truly the internal work I’ve spent the most time on. My incestuous need to fix people. I was living a 15 + seasons of Maury Povich, and somehow it became normal.
I like to collect pound puppies.
Who really did I think I was? You can’t “fix” people out of being pathological liars. You can’t fix adulterers. You can’t fix people like that. Ever. Yet damn I tried.
I am very self aware now.
Writing this book has brought out memories my psyche has clearly been protected me from.
It’s as if they were given cement shoes and thrown to the bottom of the ocean, and now I’ve got my dive gear on collecting them one by one. Yanking off the barnacles and doing my best to not get stuck in the finger by the sea urchins that have given them new life.
Without sifting through, I wouldn’t be able to remind myself just how damn strong I was, am and will continue to be. Awareness gives you that power.
I no longer stop by the local SPCA.
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