Parallel Mothers

I’ve been watching a lot of films related to motherhood- Pablo Larrain’s Ema, Almodovar’s Parallel Mothers, Maggie Gyllenhaal’s The Lost Daughter. Also, the last film I mentioned on my blog is also about the actions of a mother which makes sense why I thought of it recently.

All of these films show a range of motherhood- the sincerity, the struggle, the failure. Most of these, especially Ema, The Lost Daughter, Nobody Knows also discuss abandonment. In our social narrative, mothers rarely abandon their children. Mothers also don’t necessarily get a wide range of permission to show or discuss what they truly feel regarding their children.

A book I read a few years ago called Mean Mothers which I’d highly recommend to women who are healing through their relationship with their mother that spoke about the taboo of mothers being represented as anything but kind, giving, nurturing. There’s a potential jealous side to a mom/daughter relationship, a destructive side, a cruel side. To not have much exposure to these sides makes it so that abuse within the mother/daughter dynamic is harder to see and therefore the impact is harder to heal.

As children, our moms are like deities. We accept everything they do without a second thought, until we later come to find how imperfect they were because they too are human. We come to realize that they have their own traumas, and that some of them were emotionally immature. As we heal our wounds, we realize that our scars are also their scars.

I used to be very scared of women in particular. Well men, too, for other more overt reasons due to parenting, but I never fully understood why I recoiled around some women and especially older women, I felt unsafe. I felt judged, criticized, surveilled, and I knew to always put myself down and minimize attention lest I seem “threatening” in the least. I didn’t understand why I attracted, and naturally let in women who were very jealous of me, tried to control me in overt and covert ways and tried to destroy me. I didn’t understand why I felt like I was my mother’s mother at times, how she seemed like she was my baby. It made no sense. And so as I peel back layers of this and start to see the true complexity of motherhood, it helps me to understand more of this narrative that has been silenced. But, what could be more dynamic than a mother/baby bond? It is our very first one, all of us have had one, and it is not an easy one.

I think about what my mother must’ve felt or thought when she abandoned me when I was very, very little. In my infancy. I’m lucky in that she did come back for me years later, but those years she wasn’t there for me when I truly needed her the most had a very big impact on my psyche. It had a big impact on my health as well, as babies do better when they get to nurse and also get to attune to their mothers emotionally and physically. When all your can encode in your consciousness when you have no pre-existing memories or thought processes as a baby except that your mom didn’t want you, that becomes the foundation. When the very next one you have with her is that she lost you in the international airport the first time she travelled with you to America when you were three, it raises some questions.

Obviously this is a much bigger topic, and much more complex one, but here are some of my thoughts and hopefully they can conjure up some of your own. It is absolutely essential to see our mothers as who they were, as human, instead of defaulting to the comforting narrative that they were perfect and did nothing wrong. The more we can accept their humanness, the more we can accept our own, and the more we can uncover the repressed emotions that we may have about their actions, their inactions, their mistakes and their effects. If we only accept that they were perfect, we cannot access those emotions and heal.

How to Navigate and Understand Sensitivity

I had always known that I was more sensitive to my environments and stimulus than other people. For most of my childhood I had anxiety because I was constantly overstimulated. Our world is not built for people like me!

I’m not only an introvert, empath, but I would also consider myself an HSP. Dr. Elaine Aron has written a series of books about the HSP temperament that I’ve found incredibly helpful. You can take a look at them here.

Other resources that helped me along the way:

Introversion- Quiet by Susan Cain

Empathy- The Empath’s Survival Guide by Dr. Judith Orloff

I had a lot of shame around this because most people don’t think positively of sensitivity. I heard it all the time: You’re too sensitive!

Some of it was gas-lighty, sure, but some other times I knew that my sensitivity could be harmful in my interpersonal relationships and in my relationship with the world, especially in cut-throat environments. In our dealings with people, we don’t want to be oversensitive, even if we are hyper sensitive, if you know what I mean.

As I grew, I started to see how my sensitivity was in fact, a gift. It allowed me a level of awareness in the world that was very rare- most of my bosses could see this and identified it as a strength. One of my former bosses even told me, “everyone can use a spreadsheet. But not that many people can see the world like you do,”. It allowed me a level of perception of people’s motives, of power structures and dynamics that most people missed, and in fact, elevated me in situations when people would seek my consult. My bosses would often ask me, “what do you think?” about people, projects, etc.. even when I was in my early 20’s. In Elaine Aron’s work, she does say that HSP is an adaptive trait in human hierarchy, that it allows HSPs to rise quickly to the top of the social structure because of their abilities to perceive cues in the environment that the rest of the social group misses. Unfortunately, this caused big rifts in my workspaces, because this led to jealousy with my more senior co-workers who were not being asked. My main wish here is that I wasn’t oversensitive to the jealousy and sabotage, in a way that made me not want to contribute my strengths. It mattered more to me then to fit in.

I could also process individual cues faster, not just in environments, but with people. Their very subtle body language, tone, energetic shifts, were things that were not lost on me. Later in life, with the work that I do now in healing, sensitivity is my most dependable resource. That’s how I can detect subtle shifts in the body and in the energy even without seeing the person. A lot of this work rests in subtlety, and the ability to detect nuances is what is able to generate healing on a faster level because it allows me to be precise. Think about it- it’s better to go with the sensitive surgeon because he’s able to cut into very specific areas, whereas an insensitive surgeon wouldn’t be as perceptive and might knick an artery. Would I trade my sensitivity for anything? Now, no. If you asked me a few years ago, well, I tried.

I was in the wrong environments because back then I wasn’t as educated about my temperament. I tried to be like everyone else, but most people are not HSPs. There were even times in my life during which I experienced such desperation to “turn it off” that I went on anti-depressants just to be able to dull it out and be what I thought was more “functional”, which is less sensitive. At that time, I didn’t know that a lot of my anxiety was a result of overstimulation, but it was also a result of unprocessed trauma I wasn’t fully aware I had. It didn’t matter, though, I wanted it to be over with.

Initially, I did feel relief. But then I noticed that my creativity was gone. The way my mind engaged the world was gone. I couldn’t think as clearly. I didn’t feel like myself. I didn’t feel anything at all. I try to look at all things neutrally- I know that medication can help a lot of people, but for me there was a tradeoff, and after some time I realized that I wasn’t willing to sacrifice my sensitivity anymore and instead, learned to work with it.

It’s a double edged sword. I noticed this since I was little, how I was super sensitive even to coffee, or alcohol, or even medications that didn’t affect the majority the way it did for me. I had to be on the lowest micro dosage of everything if I ever needed any. One cup of coffee has me bouncing off the walls. I’ve since realized that my temperament is one that is best without any coffee or substances at all. A glass of wine every once in a while is fine, green tea is fine. It’s best to learn where your limits are so you can find your balance easier.

As I became even MORE sensitive in an energetic way after my spiritual awakening, it made it hard to engage with the outside world. As in, (and most of you who’ve experienced an awakening can testify to) public transportation, crowded spaces, can be really difficult to be in. You might even sense electromagnetic waves more and it could be too much. Sometimes people’s energies were just too much. I couldn’t socialize the same way- being in bars drained the sh** out of me. I couldn’t go out like I used to, I couldn’t be around a ton of people, I couldn’t even socialize in groups sometimes if someone’s energy was off. My sensitivity led to me feeling really isolated. I could tell that some of my friends and partners wanted me to be less of it, and sometimes they even told me- but in all those cases yes I felt bad, but I also knew that developing my sensitivity was key to me and my ability to help people. At one point in my life recently, I realized that I’m putting in the work to develop a healthy ability to manage it, and so the people in my life don’t need to be sensitive themselves, but they need to be understanding and accepting of it. Or at least willing to develop certain tools too.

The process of developing a healthier relationship with my sensitivity and integrate it began with first identifying the trauma around sensitivity. I first decoded what was gaslighting, and what was truly being oversensitive in situations that didn’t warrant it. I started setting boundaries around gaslighting. I started checking in with my intuition more, and then I began distinguishing the two pronged effect of my sensitivity.

One I’ll call harmful sensitivity. Harmful sensitivity is when we take things really personally, even slight remarks. Harmful sensitivity is what causes people around you to feel like they’re walking on eggshells because you might blow up if someone says something they perceive as innocuous even if you don’t. This is a result of the wounded ego- something still hasn’t been fully healed around self-concept, not to mention it’s the ego functioning in an immature way, because it still believes that “all things have to do with me” which is the way that a child’s ego forms initially before it begins to consciously recognize that nothing really is personal. It’s loosely an inability to get outside of oneself to see that other people may be projecting, or working through their own things at that moment, too.

The harmful side can also manifest in taking in criticism. It can really hurt an HSP when someone says something negative, in fact I can find myself ruminating on it all day. It doesn’t slide off my back easier than it would if I were less sensitive. Even if I don’t take it so personally, I can find myself questioning a lot and really feeling the pain and rejection of it.

When HSPs don’t develop good self-regulation and empathy regulation, then they can also go into a state of shock/overstimulation where the nervous system is overactive. This causes burnout, adrenal depletion, and also it makes HSPs get hyper agitated. I’ve noticed in myself and in other HSPs that one of the tell tale signs, or maybe even symptoms of this state is a dependency on caffeine. It’s a chicken or the egg situation, because sometimes caffeine can induce this state as well.

Then there’s resourceful sensitivity, which is the one that allows you to hone in to specifics and environmental cues. This one is a tool- and it actually functions well when there’s a bit of detachment, too. That’s not to say you bypass from it, but you detach from it enough so that it can be an objective tool. The more subjective you become with it, the more it verges on being harmful.

Resourceful sensitivity on a personal level allows you to bounce back quickly. Most of the VERY HSP clients I’ve worked with can take in the work so easily, it’s like they absorb it, and their energy literally integrates it overnight. It takes little recovery time compared to people who aren’t sensitive. I’ve also noticed how I can really take in all information, from classrooms to dance classes. It doesn’t take a lot, I’m processing so many cues at once, so quickly. It also means that I can get over breakups or losses a lot faster than most people because I can feel all the deeper emotions faster. My body even recovers faster from injuries than most people, so it’s happening on all levels. It’s really a miracle, when treated this way.

One caveat here that I find odd, is that on a body level I’m not really that sensitive. As in, it takes me a lot to register pain- and when I was a really little kid and I’d get my blood drawn, the doctors would give me a whole roll of stickers because they said I was the only kid who didn’t cry. I don’t think sensitivity always is the same on physical, emotional, mental levels. And there’s also a lot of mental/emotional toughness too. I do believe that someone who is very sensitive is stronger than most, because I know first hand how tough it is to get around in this world with that level of sensitivity! So, it really is a cause of celebration, and a continual process of working on this for yourself so that you’re at peace with how it functions in your life.

Boundaries

BOUNDARIES. This is such a huge topic! Feels like I’ve been working on boundaries forever and that’s because just like us, our boundaries grow and evolve as we change. I think it’s always healthy to revisit and renegotiate these with yourself.

My relationship with boundaries has been a nebulous one- I grew up in a household where we weren’t allowed any boundaries- it’s partly cultural as naturally in Chinese culture, families are more involved and enmeshed, but partly because of a toxic environment in which my parents didn’t know where they began and where they ended, nor did they allow me any agency or division or individuality. I was punished and shamed for setting boundaries, and as a result my nervous system encoded that it is not safe to set boundaries as the backlash that I suffer as a result are more costly than having those boundaries invaded in the first place.

Obviously, this created a rather painful life. But through recovery and the process of healing, and that means continual practice, continual auditing of my experiences, continual checking in and continual research, I’ve gotten so much better.

What’s important for me to remember, and for others who are working on their boundaries too, is- if you grew up in an abusive situation or one that demanded co-dependency, or self-sacrificing behaviors, or people pleasing, boundaries are going to feel so uncomfortable. But know that boundaries differ from person to person, so never let someone else’s lack of boundaries make you feel like you don’t deserve boundaries around a certain thing.

For example, I’ve never liked it when predatory men feel entitled to touch me randomly- and I mean, people I do not know, people I do not want to know. I remember one particular incident when I was at a party as a girl in my early 20’s with a few friends and a man who I did NOT invite into my space in any way, sat down next to me and put his hands all over me. I said to him, “Do NOT touch me” and he went to my friends (at the time) and complained about me, and then put his hands on them which in their relationship with the world, was completely acceptable (it’s funny how in a lot of people’s world’s, this is acceptable- more on that in a separate blog post). In retrospect, obviously I see this man for who he is- an entitled creep- but at the time because my friends had different boundaries and I was indirectly shamed, I felt bad for setting that boundary. BUT as I said, boundaries differ. Other people might think it’s permissible but that doesn’t mean anything about your boundaries and comfort level!!

—

In the process of forming healthy boundaries, you’ll inevitably also create walls. This is sort of like a pendulum swinging from no boundaries, to walls, and then you eventually meet somewhere in the middle. This is perfectly okay. Just notice when you build walls, and know that it’s actually out of self-protection. As you start developing a healthier, more trusting relationship with the world, the walls soften invariably.

Another thing I constantly encounter is the fear of hurting the other person. I’m very sensitive to the feelings of others and sometimes it feels more painful for someone else to experience rejection than myself, so out of habit I’ll put myself in the position of sacrificing something, or giving something up. This happened very unconsciously, and it’s something I notice that a lot of empaths do. We don’t want other people to be in pain. But in the end, we end up being the ones in pain. With regard to this one, it’s good to consciously notice when and where you do this, and recognize that in sparing someone else rejection, you’re projecting on them your own fear/pain of rejection. It’s good to get clear on this and work on this in yourself, and once you work through this, you’ll see it shifting from your relationship with other people. Meaning, when you’re okay with rejection and no longer take it personally, you won’t assume that other people take it personally. Also remember that you have the right to take care of yourself! You’re responsible for you, meaning, when you need to say no, SAY NO!

At present, I’m noticing that I still have a slight issue when it comes to certain types of people who ask me invasive questions. I for some reason feel the need to answer even if it’s rude, inappropriate, or questionable. I do notice that I feel uncomfortable, but the discomfort is less than when I think about how uncomfortable it might be to say, “I don’t want to answer that question,”- but, as with any portion of learning boundaries, it’s important to 1. recognize where you’re giving your power away, 2. take a moment when you feel that discomfort 3. realize you do have the right to assert your needs.

Hope this helps <3

Shadows in Intimacy

I’ve been thinking a lot about what emerges with deep intimacy. A lot of our deepest fears and feelings come out in romantic relationships, especially, since our partners take over the position that our parents once held. They become our primary support, someone we’re bonded to, and often times, as humans, someone we need. This realization of the popular ethos of love and bonding became even more apparent as I was singing Stevie' Wonder’s “For Once in my Life” on a shoot recently- the lyrics go, “as long as I know I have love I can make it. For once in my life I have someone who needs me,” there seemed to be a consensus that this is our model of relationships. We want to be needed. We want to need.

I’ve always felt that evolved, conscious love is less about needing someone or trauma bonding, but more about wanting them. We are complete, as human beings, and we can take care of ourselves- our basic requirements become less about what another person can take responsibility for and fulfill, but more about them being an additive. As my friend says, people like me are difficult to date because we’re so good on our own. If you’re curious, the reason is, since I was young I was my own primary support in a fear-fraught, unstable environment- I had no one else, and even when I lacked the capabilities to self-soothe or self-regulate (often times, this becomes the first seeds of dissociation), I had to figure it out (this now, leads to friends pointing out- “if there’s one person who I trust can heal themselves, it’s you”) This type of behavior makes partners feel uncomfortable, as it seems like I don’t need them at all, and as one told me, “it’s like you’re just as happy if I leave”.

It used to be a bit of avoidant attachment because my needs weren’t met, mixed in with some anxious ambivalent attachment, but as I’ve grown, I’ve come to settle into the idea that, I’m great on my own. I love it.

I started to wonder though, aside from attachment patterns, was there something else I was avoiding? If my partners all mentioned that the evidence was in my body language, why was I subconsciously pushing them away? I knew that there were shades of fearing vulnerability, and intimacy, and it wasn’t until recently that I really saw it during a three week vacation with a romantic partner- little fragments of pain, triggers, volatility, the signs of the wounded child. Sometimes I regressed, sometimes I felt weak, sometimes I felt exactly how I felt in the moments of my childhood that scarred me the most. I thought I’d grown past this, I thought I’d evolved after so much self-work, but there are always deeper layers worth investigating. This is further elucidated by our love-maps, which are imprinted with different types of personalities that we’re programmed to fall in love with. It’s an amalgamation of our primary caregivers as well as models of love- it’s so deeply wired in us and that’s why our partners will often have similar traits to our parents, or drive us to react in similar ways they did.

I recognize that one of my biggest life challenges is learning how to respond, rather than to react. Most of the time, I respond. But some of the time, in intimacy, I react. We’ve all had that friend that gets so emotional and detaches from all rationality and it gets so difficult to deal with— that friend is a part of us. We get triggered because the pain of abandonment is at the forefront and the part of us that gets activated is the part that says, “I won’t survive without you here. I need you,” But, the reality is, we don’t… we’re adults.

This incongruence is also found in sometimes wondering whether to stay or go, in a relationship. Part of us may want to stay, part of us may want to go. Even more specifically, our minds might tell us one thing, our hearts another, our energy, and our lives, yet another. It’s rare to find love, to find a strong connection, and isn’t it a human trait to want to hold on to attachment, to enjoy it while it lasts? But what if it becomes a set back and you can feel it impinging on different parts of YOU- as in, you need to sacrifice something of yourself, or your life, to stay. And finally, where, and what, are you willing to compromise, if your needs aren’t fully met and your values are encroached upon? So many books about relationships advocate for staying, committing, connecting to a partner, because we’re so often moving on and restarting this same pattern with another partner, even though the “issues” are within us, not the dynamic. Yet, what if we know that something’s not right for us- it doesn’t resonate, and everyone around us knows too? When do we know that we’ve learned all that we need to learn, and that it’s the best thing for both parties to end?

When I’m on my own, there’s no room for regression, or doubt. I’m in touch with myself and I live my life according to my own needs. When I’m with someone, my decisions impact them too, and our energies intermingle. They can, and do, affect me. I believe firmly that we don’t “need” that, yet, we can want that, and make an active choice to commit day to day. There are no guarantees with any relationship- we can defer to senses of security like promises or vows, but even still people are subject to changing their minds. The only security we can have is within ourselves and in our renewed choice and desire. Sometimes, we choose to move on.