8 Comments

Great and thought-provoking. 👏 I’m not ashamed to admit I have been hug-less for way too long for me (other than the hugs I give my kiddos). I’m damn bummed about that too 😊 because it is not fair and I’m a good hugger.

Thanks for providing the open space you do with all your posts, it’s cathartic.

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I’m sending you an energetic hug, and the hope that a person in real life shows up to hug you soon. I’m grateful for your friendship and encouragement.

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Toxic positivity can be so, well, toxic! I grew up thinking I wasn’t worthy of love unless I always spun my sadness or heaviness or fill-in-the-blank-ness into beautiful meaning with a bow on top.:) Now I know how aggressive this constant positivity can be on my nervous system, and how much those stayed longer even longer if we suppress them. Cats, chocolate, blankets and good temper tantrums are all welcome now to love myself and the natural cycles of being alive.

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Ahhh, dear, sweet Kimberly. You’re awesome! And I get it about how all that toxic positivity can choke out the real emotions. I had a Pollyanna in my world when I was younger who grated on my every nerve. If someone broke a leg, she’d say “well, at least you didn’t break both of them!” (And she meant it!) no one was ever allowed to feel down or sad for the reality of the world and their life. It felt dismissive to me.

“A good temper tantrum” sometimes is exactly what is necessary. And it can feel So good to release all that frustration.

I’m glad that you and I have crossed paths. You’re a shining star in an often dark world.

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I feel the same way friend.

And I awoke to this beautiful poem and had to share it with you in light of this post:

Letter to the Parts of Me I Have Tried to Exile

I’m sorry. I thought banishing you

was the way to become better,

more perfect, more good, more free.

The irony: I thought if I cut you off

and cast you out, if I built the walls

high enough, then the parts left would be

more whole. As if the sweet orange

doesn’t need the toughened rind,

the bitter seed. As if the forest

doesn’t need the blue fury of fire.

It didn’t work, did it, the exile?

You were always here, jangling

the hinges, banging at the door,

whispering through the cracks.

Left to myself, I wouldn’t have known

to take down the walls,

nor would I have had the strength to do so.

That act was grace disguised as disaster.

But now that the walls are rubble,

it is also grace that teaches me to want

to embrace you, grace that guides me

to be gentle, even with the part of me

that would still try to exile any other part.

It is grace that invites me

to name all parts beloved.

How honest it all is. How human.

I promise to keep learning how

to know you as my own, to practice

opening to what at first feels unwanted,

meet it with understanding,

trust all belongs, welcome you home.

—Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer

*

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Thank you for sharing this wonderful poem. Filled with the grace of wanting to understand. 💞

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As someone who also lives with a chronic health condition, I fall in to the crevice of self-pity on days (like today) when my whole body feels like it's being stuck with a thousand pins, my head is spinning and my eye won't focus. Today, the only solution was to lay down and take a nap. I'm very fortunate that I have the ability to give myself grace and check out of life for a while when I'm splitting at the seams. Not everyone can.

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Oh Kate, I feel you. And my heart goes out to you. And yes, we are both fortunate that we have the ability to do nothing when we need to. So many people I know who have small children and have the same chronic issues I do, and they cannot check out.

Many hugs of compassion go out to you,

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