During my recent retreat experience, I participated in an exercise that became pivotal to my healing journey: one addressing boundaries. Our small group was set up with a partner and instructed to say “no.” Once our partner was convinced that we said what we said and meant it, our partner would place their hand over their heart. I was the last one standing, repeating “no,” eventually with teary eyes, frustrated and feeling defeated. I truly believed I meant what I said, so I couldn’t understand why my partner was unconvinced. During my moments of frustration, when asked what I was feeling, I mentioned being alone again, but eventually “abandoned.” I swear I was doing *goodt* work around abandonment issues prior to that point. Apparently, I needed an extra push… lol. Yet the moment my “no” felt like an actual “no” to my partner, it felt like the heaviest weight was lifted from me. This exercise made me even more curious about the ways that my presenting may have been central to the life experiences I had up until that point. I was even more mindful of figuring out what I needed to address moving forward.

Fast forward to the second ceremony, one of the lessons that stood out to me was the ways in which I was constantly being redirected towards my physical posture throughout the entire evening. My sleeping position was a posture indicative of a guarded and overly cautious heart. This posture communicated that I was not truly letting anything in or out, at least in ways that were as meaningful as they could be. What was coming in and out was heavily filtered. Rationed, if you will. What was going out was not out of the abundance of my heart. I noticed that even my breathing was shallow…again, not fully taking in the life-giving force of oxygen and not fully exhaling the carbon dioxide, which would be helpful for the plants to thrive. What I took from that was the ways in which I was not as vulnerable as I perceived myself to be. That there was an opportunity for me to be vulnerable in ways that would not only benefit me, but others. This realization is not necessarily unhealthy, because having discernment is important. Yet, if I believe I am uniquely called to express love in service to others with abundance, it would be beneficial if my posture (literally and figuratively) reflected such. Up until that point, the thought of a delicate heart being in a vulnerable state seemed so daunting, and I convinced myself to believe what I had to give was good enough. In some cases, it was, as I often gave to my detriment, yet too much of a good thing is no good for anyone; what I had to offer was plentiful but cheapened by fear, if you will.

Boundaries allow one to live and love from a place of abundance. Yet, the journey towards uprooting why setting such boundaries without explanation, regret, or reservations can sometimes be complicated and as unique as a fingerprint. While I’m no stranger to holding myself accountable for where I land and what I experience in life, up until recently, compassion for self was nowhere to be found. The lack of self-compassion led me to that teary-eyed and frustrated moment I described. It showed me what was buried within…producing the stench of self-abandonment, the result of not establishing emotional boundaries with none other than myself (my inner child), first and foremost. I could not give love in abundance to others if I was spending that energy pacifying and not addressing the true needs of my inner child.

I have an immense capacity to empathize with folks. Although I believe some of my superpowers reside in my willingness to embrace this gift in the service of others, the challenge for me on this side of life is to not become overwhelmed with the burdens of others to the point where I sacrifice myself. I observe this is more of a challenge for me than many I have interacted with, which up until recently brought on so much shame. I’m supposed to be tough, not allowing folks to play in my face. How was I supposed to protect myself while being so soft and tender? Dealing with this challenge felt isolating, yet years of masking it was not beneficial to me, nor anyone else. Holding on to the belief that I was responsible for carrying the burdens of others, rather than walking alongside them or making the decision to distance myself completely, would have me engaging in unintentionally controlling and manipulative behaviors, leaving me malnourished, exhausted, and sometimes resentful. I oftentimes had crumbs if not anything for myself. So, how was I to continue to be present and give of myself when I was running on empty? Asking myself the hard question of whether being alone or without support was worth the self-abandonment became more difficult to ignore as the years went by.

Intellectually, I know all the things about why it is important to maintain healthy boundaries and to ensure my cup was filled before pouring. I have expressed this truth to myself and others many times before. Yet embodying this truth was not an easy feat. It reminds me of hiking inclines while the sun is beaming. I knew when my body was not as conditioned as I would have liked to be for certain inclines, due to the tough time I had getting through. In some cases, my focus would oftentimes be on how difficult the hike was, the fact that I was lagging behind the group, and how embarrassed I was because the sound of me breathing extra hard was so noticeable. These thoughts took up my mental space instead of thoughts of gratitude for my body to function just enough to get to the beautiful views that the mountaintop had to offer. In actuality, much of the conditioning I needed had little to do with the physical exercise prep done prior to the hike, as I was consistent in doing what was required. No harm was done to my body. Yet, the internal scolding did. The negativity, the limiting beliefs I repeated to myself, was heavy, and it was what was holding me back, making me miss the beauty of the process.

For me, in order to address the issue of my weak boundaries, the type of conditioning I needed to engage in meant that before I could address the people-pleasing and fear-based tendencies I displayed with others, I needed to address the people-pleasing and fear-based tendencies I displayed towards my inner child, who held onto the fear of being abandoned. I was letting that beautiful and precious, but scared little girl continue to run the show instead of ensuring she was safe, cared for, and not alone by confidently saying “no” and declining offers for people, places, and things I was not passionate about or aligned with. I needed to confront the ways in which I oftentimes did not protect her from the fear of what others would say, the lies of being found unworthy to receive love and care. I needed to forgive myself for the ways I did not take the time to understand and get to know what her true needs were. I was so focused on removing the problem but not actually solving it.

I had to acknowledge the ways in which I grew accustomed to believing love and care should be sacrificial and long-suffering. I’m still processing how I was allowed to conflate having patience with a process of growth and maturity with patience in remaining in situations I knew would not serve me and were actively harming me and others. At this point in my life, the concept of long suffering in that sense doesn’t sit well with my spirit and no longer resonates with me in most cases. Each day I am reminded to offer compassion to myself for the moments I didn’t challenge what didn’t feel right in my gut from the jump…as there were many. Subscribing to the concept of sacrificial love and long suffering held me back from experiencing life more abundantly. As I reflect on my experiences throughout the years, these tightly held beliefs never truly served me well. It has, however, shown me what self-neglect and abandonment look like, as well as what it means to carry a posture of the unwillingness to make room for love and care in ways that are unique and aligned with my being. Despite these realizations and past behavior, I am reminded that I am truly protected and capable of trusting my inner knowing.

I’m grateful for now having the space to learn more about the uniqueness of how I live and demonstrate love without fear of being abandoned. While being alone no longer scares me, I find comfort and thrive in my moments of solitude, knowing that as I journey through the wilderness, I’ll encounter beautiful souls along my path. Finding my own voice and understanding my place in the world is a journey, and I’m proud of myself for taking it.