It was a rough Sunday morning.

Yet, I wasn’t moving through it unconsciously. I was experiencing it as present as present can be.

I couldn’t shake off the heaviness of the emotions creeping into me. Regardless of my self talk of how I was anxious about what was going to happen and what already happened and that it wasn’t currently happening.

I felt like I was moving from one emotional plane to another–worry about tomorrow and the presence of my fiancé beside me, wanting some morning cuddles.

I held on to the cloud. Allowing myself to feel it. Thinking that this process would help me change its energy.

It didn’t. It festered into this big emotional diarrhea that needed to come out. And came out it did. Unleashing its controlled fury on to my fiancé who was wanting to be loving. Who was patiently being loving to me in spite of the ugliness that was sitting on my chest.

It continued to be a rough Sunday.

The heaviness flowing on to specific interactions with my boys. The interactions were they were needing my attention, my time, my presence.

I reverted back to old patterns. Yet, I wasn’t unconscious through it. I was moving through it with so much awareness that being in it and seeing myself experience it doubled the feelings of guilt and shame.

How could I allow myself to hurt the people I love? How could I hold on with so much tenacity to the ego? How could I put my need for disconnection above love?

And as expected, I spent the night beating myself up over it. Paralyzed by my feelings of unworthiness. Of disgust. Of disappointment.

I looked deeper, at the prodding of another participant in a Facebook parenting group I am a part of.

What did this whole experience bring up for me? Was I ignored as a child? Who ignored me? How did I feel then? What kind of decisions did I make about myself and for myself about my worth?

The last question was an eye opener for me. I have always thought that it is my fiancé’s desire for no conflict that makes me feel like I have to always be happy for him. That he couldn’t handle my big feelings. That I was too much for him. And yet it wasn’t him. His responses to my less than desirable emotional states was just a trigger.

A trigger to what I believe about myself based on what happened to me when I was a child.

The belief that I was too much. That to be loved and accepted, I had to be happy. That big emotions were something that no one wanted to see.

The belief that I was unworthy to be loved when I had less than positive emotions about people and about situations that were brought on by another person.

Realizing these beliefs and understanding where they came from has been unsettling. Knowing that they are the reason for my reactions and responses, has been empowering.

I still have a long way to go. For isn’t knowing only half the battle?

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