Fucked up syndrome

I can do this thing in my head when I say something where, in an instant, I go through all possible permutations of how a person could perceive it. Because then I can give you what you want to hear. Because then you can approve of me.

“Conscientious” was on all my grade school report cards.

“Exhausting” is more like it.

I somehow learned as a kid to keep my scars a secret. (I had four surgeries as an infant that I don’t remember before the seven surgeries that followed in my twenties.) The subconscious belief was that if I told others this secret then I’d be unworthy and unloved.

Now, after years of working with people, here’s the thing I’ve learned: we all have a secret.

But at the end of the day, we’re all afraid of someone getting close, learning our secrets, and finding out how “bad” we are. …and therefore unworthy and unlovable.

It’s a different kind of imposter syndrome. It’s fucked up syndrome.

We’re not only afraid of people finding out we’re an imposter, we’re afraid of people finding out how fucked up we are.

We try to be perfect and “good” so they don’t figure out how not enough we are, how broken we are, how imperfect we are, how “bad” we are. We don’t want them to finally know how fucked up we really are. Because then we’re unlovable, and they’ll leave.

So we get degrees, buy fancy cars, climb the corporate ladder, buy clothes, dye our hair, diet, workout, renovate our houses, make more money, etc etc to try and say, “Look! Look how normal I am, how enough I am, how perfect I am, how “good” I am! Look how not fucked up I am!”

But what we’re really saying with the quiet voice of a longing child is, “Please. Please love me.”

The world teaches us what is and isn’t lovable so we learn to hide our fucked up-ness, bury our secrets, and become “good”.

It becomes safer to not reveal all of us. It’s safer to stay unknown because then you can’t be unliked. It’s safer to hide those parts from everyone.

We stop being honest with each other and ourselves.

In doing so we become more aware of how other people feel than how we feel ourselves and we care about what they think of us more than what we think of us because we want them to like us more than we want us to like us.

Because if you see and show all parts of your true self you unprotect yourself to true rejection and, ultimately, the painfullest of pain.

It’s probably happened before in your life. It has in mine.

So now there’s this fear that comes with vulnerability… because it’s exposing yourself.

You can’t possibly be responsible for how it’s going to be perceived and received. As soon as you put something out there it’s no longer yours. You alone know the full truth.

Now, I know I’m fucked up. I have enough scars to know I’m not perfect and have had enough surgeries to face those parts of myself I tried to keep a secret.

I’ve gotten curious with myself and have started questioning the world. Slowly, I’ve become okay and then deeply accepting of my secrets that I previously denied/hid/rejected/judged.

I used to give the answer other people would want to hear instead of my truth because I cared more about their opinion of me than my own.

I used to keep my scars a secret out of fear that no man would love me.

I used to keep my thoughts and words a secret because I didn’t want anyone to not like me.

Trust me, you can’t really say anything worse about me that I haven’t already said to myself.

And I think that’s where it starts. If you can sit down and hear what that voice is telling you and consider where that voice came from, have tea with those fucked up/imperfect/“bad”/broken/shameful parts of yourself, and embrace both the voice and those parts with tenderness, compassion, understanding, permission, grace, and gentleness then it doesn’t get as scary to show yourself to others.

(Ever notice how someone is sensitive or becomes defensive to some things and doesn’t even blink at others? If they didn’t really care about whether their butt was big or not, then it wouldn’t matter if someone commented about it or not.)

When you reclaim all parts of yourself, you reclaim your power.

If my flaws make you think I’m less of a person, know I’ll never be perfect but I’m always whole.

If the fact that I only have one ovary instead of two makes a guy not want me, then I know he’s not my man.

If you read my words and assume my truth, I’m reassured because I’m the only one who knows the full story.

And yes, just because I’ve learned to be okay with myself doesn’t mean that any rejection doesn’t hurt.

But what I really risk in not being known with all of my scars, secrets, fucked up-ness is never being truly connected, expressed, and loved.

I can handle the hurt, but that I can’t handle.

With all my surgeries and scars I’ve learned that my strength doesn’t come from protecting myself and pretending I don’t have any secrets. It comes from being open, getting hit, reclaiming those parts of yourself, and rising again every time after I fall.

Yes, you can’t be rejected for who you are if you stay safe… but you also can’t be truly loved if you never let yourself be truly known. With all your secrets and fucked up-ness.

The choice is yours.

Now, I may be biased but I hope you choose to own your fucked up, be honest with your secrets, and be all of yourself.

Because every time you judge yourself, you judge others.
Every time you accept yourself, you accept others.
Every time you liberate yourself, you liberate others.
Every time you let yourself be wholly powerful, you let others be wholly powerful.
And vice versa.
 

Plus, life becomes a lot more fun 😉

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