“Anxious attachment stems from a deep sense of instability, an old wound that leads people to expect to be abandoned again and again.” ~ Jessica Baum
I recently met the love of my life. yeah! For as long as I can remember, he was the man I always imagined and hoped and prayed that one day I would find him.
After a long time, I began to wonder if I was delusional, thinking that such love was possible, and I almost gave up on the idea of being with him. But now that he is here and we share the most incredibly beautiful love, my soul is so happy to be by his side.
But the story is not that simple, as my soul shares this space with my conditioned mind (the old part of myself that developed its own way of being). Love felt foreign and threatening to these parts of my sense of self. When these parts take over, I lose alignment with the frequency of our love and fall back into fear and worry, triggering me to play out old patterns.
Until recently, I believed that I was not worthy of love or being loved. I was born into a toxic home with mentally and emotionally unhealthy parents, and as a result, I experienced a lot of neglect and abuse. As usual after experiencing childhood trauma like this, I developed a deep-rooted insecure attachment style, a deep distrust and fear of others, and a strong sense of worthlessness.
For decades, these traumas led me unknowingly down the same path I witnessed around me as a child. My concept of love was in deep confusion. I was constantly seeking validation and reassurance of my worth, while deep down I felt like I wasn’t worthy of love. I was only attracted to men who couldn’t love me, didn’t love me, or wouldn’t love me, which confirmed my belief that I was unlovable and undesirable.
As a therapist, I know enough to try and manage my thoughts and feelings and work on myself. But the fact that these anxious and obsessive codependency patterns continued to play out left me both deeply distressed and ashamed of my inability to resolve, change, or manage them well.
After my divorce four years ago, I was so broken, vulnerable, depressed, and tired of these repeating patterns within myself that I decided to fully commit to my relationship with myself. I wanted to heal old childhood wounds that still haunt me.
While these old parts still push me with thoughts and feelings that they are unlovable, insecure, needing to be on guard, needing to behave as usual, they are much less consuming now. I’ve healed enough that I’ve been able to find my loves, and I’ve been able to separate enough from them that I can see them when they arise and support myself when they arise.
I want to share with others what I do to navigate the inevitable waves of oscillation between old patterns and new, safer versions of myself that emerge.
Our plans changed last week because his daughter was sad and needed him. This meant I didn’t hear from him for the rest of the day and for some time to come.
I imagine he will realize that he has been neglecting his daughter and she is grieving because of it, and he will decide that he needs to end our love so that he can better focus on his important role of being a good father to her. I felt so sad at the thought of him leaving that I cried, anxiety washed over me and that familiar feeling of abandonment threatened to overwhelm me.
The good news is, I know I can comfort and support myself, so I took the following actions.
I listened.
I spent an hour or so writing down my thoughts, feelings, and fears to let this part of myself know that I was there and that I was listening.
I gave her (the younger part of myself) space to process what she was going through without jumping in and judging her. I approached her with open, compassionate curiosity and asked her a variety of “what,” “why,” “how,” and “when” type questions.
I asked her to write it down and share it and come up with a plan to deal with what might happen (in the worst case scenario) and I sat there with all the heavy feelings that came with it.
I provided the guarantee.
I told her it was okay, no matter what happened I would be there and I would support and love her through it all.
I let her breathe, be with me – just breathe.
I reminded her that whatever happens is for our highest good.
I reminded her of the journey we have been on and how far we have come to reach this loving relationship with ourselves.
I reminded her that she was just a ghost from the past, that she had served her time protecting me from harm, and that she could relax now that she was safe.
I refocused.
All of this reduces my anxiety and allows me to get on with my day; see friends, do some work, and keep myself busy. While I can feel the panic and anxiety building inside me, it’s not as debilitating as it once was. But it’s definitely still there. I can’t quite change the feeling of uneasiness in my body that I should pay attention to.
I resisted the urge to text him for reassurance. I just gave him space (via some follow up calls) and respected the process he was going through.
I plan to talk to him when he is ready and change our connection so that we can stay together and make more space for his important connection with his daughter. If that’s what he wants. Now that I’m pretty sure he won’t, I remind myself that if he doesn’t, I’ll be fine.
He arrived later that day and I was prepared for whatever was about to happen, but not really prepared for what happened.
He’s still the same – happy to see me, feeling good in our love – absolutely nothing has changed for him. His daughter is fine and he doesn’t have any issues or concerns that I would have imagined.
I was completely abandoned!
I was so invested in the story and had a complete plan for how we would move on from this place that I was completely surprised that none of it was real or necessary.
I just couldn’t see that the part of me that had learned to be wary of harm or harm was imagining the whole thing. I was so focused on practicing self-compassion and support that I didn’t really stop to question its effectiveness.
I guess the next stage in my process is to recognize when it is important and necessary to give myself gentle compassion and support, and when it is time to express stronger compassion by saying, “Enough, not anymore!” Heart. I’m pretty sure both have their place and both are necessary!
What I’ve learned is that loving and being loved is a huge process for older parts of my self-awareness, and maintaining the frequency of loving takes some practice. And my mind is really, really tricky!
Currently, I vacillate between higher and lower states of energy, thoughts, and feelings regarding intimacy, love, and connection. I am both in the process of becoming a higher vibrational version of myself and releasing old ways of being that no longer serve me.
I choose to remind myself that all these old energies, thoughts, feelings, and patterns will come up in order to be released, and as long as I don’t believe them, they will eventually pass.
I want to be completely free of shame about my humanity, so I lean into humor and observe myself with loving curiosity as these energies pass.
Now, I choose to dive more fully into a daily mindfulness practice so that I can train my wounded mind to stay in the present moment and enjoy this beautiful love.
I write this letter for all of us who have the courage to face our souls so that we can love and be loved as we deserve to be loved. I hope that by sharing my journey, it will be helpful in yours.
About Tracy Nasheela
Tracey Nakhila is a psychotherapist and the founder of A Space to Process. She provides online counseling and psychotherapy to anyone looking to find a space to process the thoughts, feelings, and experiences that are holding them back from living the life they deserve.
