Her Strength: I can be my own anchor. I am my own anchor.
HER Strength - Shared by Natasha
The past year has been shit in a ‘first world problems’ kind of way.
After moving from the UK to Australia to start a new life with my partner and little family in 2014, it all fell apart three years later.
It was my body that let me know all was not well. I was stressed. Unwell. I had uncontrollable rage at times. I made bad choices. My anxiety became huge. It showed up in an agitated and mean way.
One night 12 years of pent up rage came bursting out during an argument over something small. It was petty and definitely not pretty. It was the beginning of the end.
The end of my relationship. The end of pretending that things were ok. The end of family generational patterns of settling for less than we deserve.
We all moved out of the family home and went our separate ways. As I settled into my cool new unit, little did I know the universe had further plans for me. My life still needed to be decluttered. Big time. It felt like everything around me was falling apart. It was. The universe was clearing the way for new things to come.
Bulldozers were clearing paths in my life. I cut off contact with my mother. Our relationship felt toxic. I couldn’t do it anymore. Shared friendships fell away. My support network became small.
I felt lonely and depressed. It was hard to explain what this felt like to well-meaning friends who hadn’t experienced it. It’s a gnawing feeling. It creeps up on you. It hugs you on the sofa. Gets into bed with you at night. Waits for you after work. It’s in your face all the time.
The irony was that I was with people all day. My business was blooming at the very time I felt at my least able to cope. I was still functioning. Still seeing people. Keeping busy. I kept going and going. I bought things in an attempt to keep difficult feelings away. It didn’t work.
I became ill. Colds. Flu. Stomach problems. Cancelling clients. Feeling bad. Going back to work when I wasn’t recovered. Becoming unwell again. I felt lost and overwhelmed. Like a ship with no anchor. There were times when I was desperate. What was the point of carrying on?
Then I remembered. My family. My clients. Their families and support network. The people who would miss me if I just stopped.
I went to a self-care retreat for therapists. I set the intention to give myself permission to cry if I needed to.
Oh boy was that an interesting time. I wept and wept. Grief took hold of me when I stopped to listen to what it had to say. I felt all the stuff I had been trying to avoid. Sadness about where life had taken me. I felt like I had been flung out to sea. I missed my friends in the UK who no longer knew who I was.
I missed so many things. I missed my Shakti Tantra friends. Friends who have seen me naked, both literally and figuratively.
Most of all I missed me. The ‘me’ I used to be. The me who had been abandoned, lost as I took on other people’s values and priorities. I wept with sadness but I also felt angry. It was time for the pity party to end. I got some fire in my belly. Fuck this shit. Fuck feeling lonely and sorry for myself. Fuck waiting to be saved.
An advert popped up in my Facebook feed that resonated with me. A woman talking about having a difficult time and wondering where her friends and family were. Why they weren’t calling her. She owned a business selling inspirational bracelets.
I bought three of them.
No one is coming to save you.
Learn to fight alone.
Everything I need is within me.
I’m going to wear them everyday. With pride, as a reminder that I can do this. I am doing this.
I’m still a work in progress. Being your own anchor isn’t easy. I have mini anchors – my children, my beautiful new partner, people I work with, my business.
I’m still learning. Still growing.
I can be my own anchor. I am my own anchor.
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