Yep.
More letters to the (internal) editor.
Let’s do it.
The letter.
Dear part of me who thinks that if something good happens, something bad must follow,
I’m noticing that you have a lot to say right now, double-especially since we got the lease for The Playground. Wow.
So I want us to be able to talk about this, and I’m also thinking it’s time to learn a little bit more about you and how you operate.
This is what I know about you. Is this right?
Obviously this: that you believe there is no such thing as good news that is just good.
Your experience tells you that things fall apart. In unexpected ways.
Your sense of your world is that this is a place that does not support you.
You live to caution me.
Don’t get excited. Don’t count your chickens before they hatch. Don’t have expectations because they’ll just get smashed. Don’t be joyful about good news because then the anvils start falling.
You care about me tremendously. Even though I have trouble remembering this.
Much like my monsters, you’re okay with using fear, guilt and manipulation as long as it keeps me safe, which (in your opinion) justifies the means.
This is what I don’t know about you.
I don’t really know who you are or where you come from.
Are you a belief, developed over time in reaction to cumulative experience of things being crappy?
Because there certainly is a long list of those that you like to bring up.
Or are you deep internal programming designed to keep me safe?
Are you from the past?
Do you need to be here now?
Sometimes you seem so true and well-established that it’s hard for me to remember that you represent only one possible version of what is true for me. It’s like I get a glimpse of who you are and then I lose it again.
Your pain. It seems so painful.
You include all of the parts of me who have been through hellish experiences.
There is so much depth to your loneliness and despair and heart-ache.
I wish I could wave a magic wand and make everything hurt less for you.
It has to be really hard to only know about the possibility of things falling apart, and to not know about how sometimes there is no pit to fall into, no crash and no burn.
If we talk, I need it to be like this.
Here’s the thing.
I really do want to give you room to have your say. It’s just that this pattern we have where you castigate me for being naive and then I yell at you to stop being mean and controlling … it’s kind of not working.
So I’m going to take a break from this letter and interview you. For my blog. Yes, I’m giving you a platform. But it means I need you to speak in sound-bites, not lectures, okay?
Excellent.
A short conversation with the part of me who doesn’t feel safe having good things happen.
Me: So. You’re the part of me who thinks good things can’t happen without being taken away — or bad things happening that are so bad that all the good gets erased.
Part of me: I don’t think it. I know it.
Me: Tell me more about that.
Part of me: You don’t have a realistic sense of the actual danger involved in feeling good. It’s asking for trouble.
Me: Why do you believe that’s true?
Part of me: Wouldn’t you rather expect the worst and be surprised, instead of expecting good things and getting hurt?
Me: So you are actually hoping for good things to happen. You just don’t want to hope out loud.
Part of me: Of course. That’s just common sense.
Me: You know, when we live in this constant expectation of danger, I shut down. I can’t function.
Part of me: Why am I supposed to care about that? It’s still better than watching your poor heart break again. That hurts more than anything.
Me: What if my protection and safety didn’t come from fear and anticipation of horrible things that might go wrong? What if my protection and safety came from being mindful and attentive instead?
Part of me: That’s pretty unconventional. I don’t know.
Me: What do you need? What would help you feel safe?
Part of me: I need you to acknowledge that things can and do go wrong.
Me: Okay. I acknowledge that. Anything else you need?
Part of me: A worry room! I want a worry room.
Me: What happens in the worry room?
Part of me: I worry as much as I want! And then I get comfort. And cocoa.
Me: Oh. That’s kind of sweet.
Back to the letter.
Dear part of me who needs a worry room,
I get that you need room to worry. It’s how you process things.
Here’s what I need. I need a room to hope for things.
And that room needs space and light. It needs safety and protection.
Which means we need to agree that all of these things have the right to exist.
I will let you have your worry cave.
It will be stocked with the finest cocoa.
And whatever else you want in there.
Within this space, you can have great big worry parties, take naps, feel feelings.
And the rest of my internal space can have comfort, safety, and protection for the parts of me who need to feel hopeful, and thrive on anticipation.
This is my creative space.
It’s where I come up with the wild and crazy ideas that turn into the good things that have brought up so much fear for you in the past.
You’ll get to peek at my creative process. You’ll get to see how much is new.
We’ll get used to this weird world where anvils don’t drop from the sky.
In the meantime, cocoa. And waiting. Writing letters and making rooms. Faith that things change, and that all this change will be okay.
Let’s see how it goes.
xox
Havi
Play with me!
What is welcome:
Your own letters to internal editors (or to anything else).
Anything you’re working on or thinking about related to this.
Love to all the commenter mice and Beloved Lurkers.
Follow
Awww… the worry room with hot cocoa made me tear up a bit 🙂 I would think that my worry room would be more like the Situation Room or NORAD, with direct satellite feeds of the Interstellar Falling Anvil Detection System and loud woop woop sirens and Importance and Authority, but I haven’t actually talked to my Designated Worrier yet, so I don’t know… it might just want hot cocoa.
Havi, I love that you’re giving your worried self a worry cave, so she can feel safe in familiar surroundings.
And I love that you’re claiming the rest of your space for your creative, sovereign, hope-filled self.
It’s so good that you’re inviting your worried self to visit, and to get to know your creative process so it’s not so strange and frightening.
Kisses for all of your selves, as you go through this process of getting comfortable with ease and goodness in your life.
Love, Hiro
.-= Hiro Boga´s last post … Money, Heart and Soul: An Interview with Mark Silver =-.
@Katya – That’s brilliant. Now that you bring it up I can certainly imagine the appeal of loud woop woop sirens and am shocked that my worry wanted cocoa. Weird.
Glad to know you also have a Designated Worrier. 🙂
My husband and I are dealing with this same issue right now–why bother trying to have good things come into our lives when they just seem to be taken away again? I think we need to sit down and have a similar talk with our fears…
.-= Michelle´s last post … The Power of Word Choice =-.
Dear Part Of Me That Stops Me From Finishing Courses,
I know that you’re trying to defend me from something, and I appreciate that you’re doing your damndest for me. You work hard on my behalf! Why, you’ve prevented me from finishing all manner of courses, qualifications and projects that really matter to me. I get the feeling that you worry that if I finish, I might pass; and if I pass, then I’ll be out there in the Big Bad World without protection from the External Validation Demons, and that would be scary. Or maybe you *ARE* an EVD, and you and your friends are trying to stop me getting hurt.
I understand that you don’t want me to get hurt. The world is such that there will be times when the things I offer get rejected. Not everyone *wants* therapy or massage or meditation, even – especially – if they *need* them. And there will always be people who have more/better qualifications than me who will try to make me feel small. Can you see that rejecting the things I have to offer (services, or cakes, or my company) isn’t the same as proving that I am worthless? Or that people are mean because they are very scared and need to put other people down in order to feel better, poor pets, which just goes to show that they need compassion and not to be feared? Can it be that my Fear Demons are scared?
I won’t tell you not to be scared. I will tell you that I understand. I appreciate that you came into being when I was too young to know that there are lots of ways to cope with the world, and that external validation is nowhere near as important as internal validation. EV can help, but it isn’t the be all and end all to me any more. In fact, being scared of it is getting in the way of me being really happy and healthy.
So I will hold your hand and sit with you and give you cuddles when you want them. And maybe that will make you feel like you can change and turn into something that helps me more than hinders me. And in the meantime, I really need you to let me get this last essay done, and put my website out there, and get down to building a co-op and getting clients so I can do My Right Thing with My Right People. I won’t put any expectations on what you turn into; I’ll just hope that it’s something that makes us both happy.
Thank you, lovely.
Karen
There is a part of me that is so sure that bad-follows-good that I didn’t even really think about it as a part until just a few seconds ago.
Heading off for a chat…
(Thank you.)
.-= Andrew Lightheart´s last post … How to present like Hans Rosling =-.
Oh Havi-
This letter spoke to me.
The first 32 years of my life were spent waiting for the bad shoe to drop. And then when life started up in a really good way, I kept waiting. I kept not settling into the good of my life. It festered, this feeling of “when is the crap coming? The crap must be coming.” And then one day, it blew. And I said, “Screw it! If the shoe drops, I don’t care! I don’t care! I’m going to enjoy now, now!”
And I did.
I know that we’re supposed to love and listen to our monsters, but sometimes, our monsters really stop being relevant, and then maybe acceptance of it comes in a daring stance.
I don’t know.
All I know is that there’s so much good for so many in what you do, it’d be silly for the universe to scrap it now. You got too much good co-creation going on.
🙂
.-= Bridget´s last post … The lyrics are the words we tell ourselves =-.
Dear Disapproving Goose,
I think you are a very lovely goose. I would never judge you nor tell you that you are not as lovely and goosey as some of the other geese. I approve of you and your gooseness 100%.
And right now I really need some approval. And love, encouragement and security. Not so much of the constant disapproving and pretentious sneers you give me. It hurts my feelings when you constantly judge me and stick your beak in the air, as if to say ‘You are SO distasteful, I will NEVER approve of you.’. And I get very frightened when you hiss at me.
I would really love to understand what your purpose is and if you’re trying to help me. And if you are trying to help then I would love to help you to help me better. Maybe we could talk some time over tea? If you’re into that. If not, then we could write letters to each other. Or finger/wing paint. Whatever you’d like.
You’re more then welcome to nest by my inner lake and enjoy the sunshine. I’ll leave you plenty of tasty algae and vegetables.
Most sincerely,
Kai
One other thing that might be helpful in this process.
There’s a global epidemic of Worry, and the belief that Bad-Things-Will-Follow-Good, happening right now.
It helps to separate our personal worried-selves from the sea of worry that sloshes up against the shores of our being.
Then the worry cave can do its work without having to handle doom-floods of Biblical proportions.
.-= Hiro Boga´s last post … Money, Heart and Soul: An Interview with Mark Silver =-.
Havi, you give me hope that it’s okay to give myself such love and comfort.
I hope you know you’re pretty amazing.
Havi, I’ve been reading your blog for over a year now, and I think this is the first time you’ve reduced me to tears with a post. I could hear every word your Part Of You spoke echoed in my own heart (only mine is more condemnatory – “how dare you feel good about this when you know bad things are going to happen?” – but it’s the same feeling).
I needed this. Especially today. I’ve been feeling all day like anything good that happens will only lead to disaster, and it hadn’t occurred to me that I don’t have to feel that way.
.-= Chris Anthony´s last post … Special =-.
Oh, my dear. This is something I’ve been wrestling with for several seasons.
I need a worry room, with big jars of ice cold Queen olives.
Also? It reminds me of a blog from Shonda Rhimes (who created the tv show “Grey’s Anatomy”). She said she needs a certain amount of time to lie on the floor of her office and worry about her characters.
So if Shonda gets permission to worry about her fictional characters, and your part of you gets a worry room with cocoa, maybe I can have permission to worry about me and my loved ones?
I’ve been thinking the worry is something I need to excise. Like some sort of skin growth that needs to be removed. Maybe not. Maybe it just needs space to do its thing, while I do mine. And olives.
I adore your worry cave with cocoa! I am totally going to make one of those.
And, I love your dialogue with the worry part of you. It sounds very familiar with me. I do think it’s important to grasp that the worrying-piece has such powerfully good intentions towards us.
.-= Thekla Richter´s last post … Three Small Things: Get Going! =-.
I read the title of this post and my insides said “oh yeah, i know that!” I feel like my whole life has been “thrilling idea! vs. it could be a complete diaster!” Maybe instead of epic battle there could be cocoa and caves…that sounds quite a bit friendlier! Thanks for reading my mind…
I love you, Havi! And all of your monsters, too!
Dear whoever worries about preparing for my trip,
I know that it’s scary. I know there’s a lot to do. What I don’t get is why you’re so worried about it. You make it seem like it’s more important than I see it. The issue is getting rid of all of my stuff. My trip will be good once I step out of my apartment. So what’s the deal?
Eric
Dear Eric,
Eric, I am just trying to help you prepare a good trip. I want you to remember to get rid of all of your stuff, and to be happy when you leave. You don’t want to have to worry about all of the stuff you didn’t do once you’re on the train.
Mr. Worry
Dear Mr. Worry
Oh, I see. Thanks for looking out for me. I can see what you have in mind. Hey, listen, why don’t you ask your friends in my head to see if they’ve got a way to make sure I don’t worry after I leave. Maybe they’ve got a way that won’t make me feel bad before. And maybe their methods will make me even happier when I’m on my trip.
What do you think?
Eric
Dear Eric,
Hey, that’s a good idea. Let me get back to you.
Mr. Worry
Dear Mr. Worry,
Great. Looking forward to it.
Eric
.-= Eric Normand´s last post … Travel planning trouble . . . =-.
Oh, man, this letter speaks to me.
I’m finally in love with someone who treats me well and it is scaring me witless.
Thank you for this, Havi, you’ve given me a lot to think about! And a letter to write.
Dear Panicking Mind,
I know all of this is reallllly scray. We’re on our own, we’ve got exams and we have to learn to cook and our laptop is iffy and we’re not getting enough sleep and eating more chocolate than broccoli. I know it’s all big and scary and SOOO many things could go wrong right now.
But if I’m paralyzed with fear, I won’t be able to dodge the bridge falling on us or jump from the ground that crumbles beneath us.
I need you to just nudge me “hey, look up every once in a while, watch your footing; it can be dangerous around here” rather than your screams. I know you’re protecting me, and I appreciate and acknowledge that. I’m doing all I can to drink fruit juice and get to bed earlier so at least I’m resting this body.
We’ll be okay, little one. Please take a breath and try this my way for a little bit?
Many thanks
(in love and light),
Rose.
.-= Rose´s last post … Fears =-.
This reminds me of the letter I had to write to myself about how there is no “other shoe” that’s going to drop. Because while I’m pretty much immune to the thrown types of shoes, I have spent quite some time scanning the sky in fright for the falling shoes.
Dear Self,
There is no Other Shoe.
Sometimes I forget this. I think “well, yeah, I feel good and am moving forward and had an amazing dinner of oysters on the half shell and work is good and I’m happy….but….but…..but….there must be something bad coming.”
There is no bad thing coming. It’s perfectly ok and feasible to just be happy. To just feel at peace. To just run a successful business. To just have a happy healthy family. To have everything work out. To have your life surpass your dreams. To just be.
Love,
Self
Seriously Havi, were you secretly in my head when you wrote this? What you say almost always resonates really strongly with me, but I instantly teared up when reading this and thought…”Hells yeah, let’s have this conversation”. I need to figure out the worry room part for me. Thank you, thank you.
.-= Kristen K.´s last post … Mediterranean Fish & Chopped Salad =-.
I think that maybe I am giving my worrier a little too much voice right now. Perhaps cocoa would help both of us. Or maybe a really good cup of tea. I think my worrier finds tea very soothing. I will go make some right now, and together we will relax and breathe a little.
.-= Amber´s last post … Thoughts on Internet Privacy =-.
Oh, dear Havi!
I love this approach for so many reasons. Fear is validated without the usual paralyzing navel gazing that comes with self-discovery. Or maybe that’s just my pattern.
From my family system, I took away the idea that nothing bad could happen on my watch, as in, mistakes were irresponsible. I’m sure my parents didn’t mean for that to happen, and I’m sure they were just so tense from walking the same tightrope that they didn’t have the time or energy to make space for my normal, everyday mistakes to be okay. Poor things. Thanks for letting me allowing me to see them in a compassionate way, because I certainly don’t want to become the Worry Editor for them, telling them what they did wrong for me.
It’s been an interesting couple of years for me in this realm. I’ve had a few good experiences sour on me, one involving next-door neighbors, which means the issue is right there, right out my window all the time. The good news is that I’m coming to realize that there’s nothing more I can do about it. I can be kind and considerate, but I’m not responsible for my neighbors’ happiness. My Worry Editor still wants to try to figure out the problem, seeking the magic wand I could wave to make it all better, but all of those leads dead-end.
Thanks for showing me how to talk to my Worry Editor in a gentle way.
Here’s to love–
.-= Cherilyn´s last post … A ride a day in May . . . =-.
Havi, Thank you for this letter. Just now I am sitting at the cafe terminal with my launch announcement of my upcoming debt-free project and the voices are saying the exact same things; basically stop this is reckless and dangerous. So now before my time expires I will go and post.
.-= Deb´s last post … The winds of change on a blustery Friday =-.
Havi- This post truly pierced my heart. Especially the line: “It must be so hard to only know the possibility of things falling apart.” I have struggled with this issue on what feels like a day to day basis for my entire life. It’s so exhausting. For me, I know where my came from and it still doesn’t make dealing with it any easier. Thanks so much for sharing this. I feel that it is a sacred act when we’re honest about our struggles so that others can know they’re not alone in what they’re doing. This post is one of those things that connects all who read it to their own humanity and that is a beautiful thing.
Thank you for your honesty and your courage.
.-= Cathy´s last post … Being Enough =-.
Ohhh…now I want a worry room. And comfort. And cocoa.
Dear Part of Me Who Hides:
I see you. No, wait, don’t run away! It’s only me.
We’ve been together for such a long time, haven’t we? When I make a mistake, you’re there. When I’m faced with a challenge that I don’t know how to meet, you’re right there beside me, whispering, “Shhh! Don’t tell, don’t move, just don’t say anything, and maybe they won’t notice! We’ll fix it later, I have no idea how, but we’ll do it, we’ll just have to do it, because no one must ever know! You’re supposed to know this stuff already, you’re not supposed to need help — no, no, don’t ask for help, don’t tell anyone! Then they’ll know how stupid and incompetent and clueless and pathetic you are!”
Whoa. Whoa. Just back up for a second, there.
So, what I hear you saying is that (1) I am not allowed to ever make mistakes or do things badly, and (2) whenever I do make mistakes or do things badly, I must hide it from everyone and just somehow fix the problem myself, or not, but either way I must just keep hiding and pray that no one ever finds out. Right?
It won’t work, love.
I do understand that you want to protect me from anger, embarrassment, and shame. You love me, after all. It’s just that I would really rather continue developing a practice of honestly admitting it when I mess up, and of apologizing (sincerely, calmly, making eye contact) and of asking for help when I feel lost.
Scary stuff, I know! And yet — remember? — there have been times when I have done this — you were there too, I felt you! — and it has ultimately been such a relief. It’s left me feeling stronger, not weaker. Safer, not more in peril. Strength and safety — that’s what you want for me, right?
So, let’s try it, please. In the meantime — here, I made you a blanket. Feel how soft it is? We can still hide under it together sometimes, with books and flashlights.
.-= Kathleen Avins´s last post … Liberation =-.
What I want to know is, why is the part of me that thinks that when bad things happen, something good must follow, so much smaller than the part that thinks when good things happen, something bad must follow?
Maybe that first part of me already has its own room… with cocoa.
I’m going to create space for that second part, and stock it with cocoa. And licorice. And kittens.
Just reading this post has made it calm down some.
Thank you.
.-= Melissa Dinwiddie´s last post … 2-Minute Tip: The Tickler File =-.
Seriously, you are wonderful. Sometimes my boyfriend worries. Maybe I should direct him to this.
.-= Graveyard Greg´s last post … Dungeons & Denizens =-.
Dear Mom,
You are a great mom and always put us first, but I think you didn’t realize that when you told us “have no expectations and you’ll never be disappointed” that you were damaging our ability to hope. I know that it was really important to you for us not to be hurt, but we also never learned to hope.
I know you had a tough life and I also know that you don’t think you did. You always say that you didn’t know any different life, so how could you know that yours was hard. I know that you are trying to protect me from a hard life.
I know that you don’t understand why I need space from you. Perhaps it is a little extreme to live on the other side of the world from you, but the freedom to try to be who I am supposed to be is invigorating. I don’t always use my freedom wisely, but that is more about me than you.
When I tell you that I am happy, you don’t understand what that word means and I am frustrated that there is no way for me to explain it because while you are never disappointed, you don’t hope either.
I accept that I cannot explain this to you. I accept that you are always going to bring up the idea of moving back to the US. I accept that you tend to think my choices are a personal attack against you and the life you tried to give me.
Remember on my 29th birthday, when I jumped out of an airplane? I think my brain chemistry changed that day. I was 10,000 feet in the air and a little part of me hoped the parachute wouldn’t open. The larger part of me was thrilled and excited by this amazing experience in which I could see all the beauty in the world multiplied and enhanced.
I didn’t take up extreme sports, as you know, but I understood in those 2 minutes that the risk of disappointment is worth it. My life up until that moment was not what I was meant to be doing with myself. I’m going to hope for the best (and prepare for the worst). I’m going to have expectations and hope that people can live up to them and try to forgive them when they can’t.
Disappointment is nothing compared a lifetime of no risk, no trying something new, stuck in a rut, can’t get out of the boring old sameness. Mom, it’s worth it and I wish I could make you see it.
So as much as I love you, I’m taking this little phrase of yours and getting rid of it. Protect me from other things, but leave me my hope.
Love,
Ilana
Dear weight of the world on her shoulders,
Do we really have to have all of this panic? I can’t problemsolve with my stomach in my throat.
You want me to make sure no bad things happen? I can’t. Bad things happen. They always have, they always will. We cannot eliminate them. But there is no scarcity when it comes to the good things. No balancing the two. They’re not equal. The good things are overwhelmingly abundant. The good things are so abundant you can’t even carry them all in your arms.
How about our own sitting cushion of abundance? A big fat om cushion so we can stop needing to create one on my backside.
Right now, I am trying to do something that is so incredibly important to me. To us. I would like your help. It’s right up your alley.
Will you protect me and hold the architecture of all the things we are trying to do right now? You can keep it safe so that it will be there when I need it. That way I won’t forget anything. I will not be the ladybug flying away home because her house is on fire and her children are burning. You can keep me safe. And we can keep others safe. But through LOVE not FEAR.
If you do that, and let me think, we can do this.
Thanks for being there for me, E
@Kathleen Avins – what are you doing with MY monster? I thought I was in a monogamous relationship there, and now I find it’s been demonising with all the other girls!
I’m going home to Mother.
This one goes to my Havi Fave’s file! Awesome! Thanks!
@Karen, SOOOOOOO I’m not the only one who has demons?! Phew!
Dear Whatiffer and Howitalwayzgoes demons,
My horror writer self totally appreciates you because she’s a pro at negotiating with fighting with monsters. (Also, she thinks you’re all hillarious.) My alter ego, Kooky Pook; however, is terrified of you and your cohorts.
Here’s the thing. Kooky Pook wants to hide, and that’s okay. But if she’s hiding she can’t light up the dark Cave of Self so that we’re not all tripping over each other and freaking each other out BEFORE we even get to things that might require some freaking out. The other thing is Kooky Pook would really like to come out to play right now – which is new and scary enough for her because she’s never been really seen before.
So I’m wondering if maybe we could work out a deal where she gets a whole corner of the Cave – it doesn’t have to be big – so that some of her shininess can light up the place just enough so we’re not tripping and freaking before we need to. Then we can sort of all remain in the shadows but we could at least not trip and maybe then stop knocking over the table laden with all manner of chocolate, cheese cake, and Cafe Vienna. Could we give that a try, please?
Wow, you’ve just rearranged my head again. In a good way. Thanks!
.-= Lean Ni Chuilleanain´s last post … Visit to the Louis Mulcahy Shop (or, What I Did on My Holidays) =-.
Dear Havi,
Having read your post I suddenly knew that instead of wanting to suppress my inner worrying me (rather a big fellow she is) and failing to do so I have to give her a room (with lots of chocolates in my case), throw some warm blankets over her and then wander off to my other rooms and let my dreams fly high.
.-= Ulla Hennig´s last post … Come with me to the beach and enjoy all kinds of music! =-.
Dear Self! First, let me tell you that your safety is always my priority! There is nothing to worry about – you are safe and we are going to be just fine. Howvever, if we are going to be well paid for being a positive energy artist then we are going to need to take some bigger risks in putting myself out there!
This means to truly ask for what I want and what how I want to serve others – and it’s hard to do this when you are constantly saying “I’m so scared”! What’s to be scared of? Scared of earning money from Angel Card Readings? What’s so scary about that? Selling Affirmation Art for a good price is scary?! Receiving financial funding for the Manifesting Mobile does not feel scary when I type it so why does it scare you!? You have so much support including the ANGELS ….so it’s only fear that is stopping you from earning financial abundance as a Positive Energy Artist. This does not feel good!
I would rather feel BRAVE! Being Brave is relaxing and safe. I am brave enough to love myself!
I am courageous … it’s ok to be afraid however, FEEL the FEAR and do it anyways!
I have your back. Have mine — take a moment before you immediately say, I”m so scared” – what are you really feeling? How can you tap into your core 3 feelings right now – Relaxed, Safe, Loved. Take a breath is a start … and feel the love of the Universe in your heart.
Magic Passion Love and Courage to live your life purpose … you can do this Joanne!
I believe in you!!
+++++Thank you so much for this post!! xojoanne
Thank you so much!! I thought I was some kind of weirdo, going through this… But I’m not alone.
It’s a terrible pattern to have, making one fearful to allow *any* good into one’s life. That’s no way to live.
I will ponder your words often, as I climb my way out of this lifelong hole.
<3 <3 <3
This was an incredibly helpful blog post to read. Thank you for having the courage to share this internal conversation. I hope to get to this point too and your post provides an excellent structure.
Huge thanks! 🙂