I…Failed?
How I began to heal.
I have struggled figuring out how to start this blog post. I want to talk about things that are important to my own story and also want to be very intentional not to bond over trauma with my readers. Bonding over trauma, not to be confused with a “trauma-bond,” is when people form a relationship over shared traumatic experiences. Through out this post I want us to remember that trauma is only a part of our experience, not the center of it.
There isn’t a word, or therapy term, for the kind of relationship that occurs through connecting over the experience of healing. So, for the sake of this conversation, let’s call that relationship a conscious attunement. When we are consciously attuned to one another we are centering one another’s wholeness. The difference between bonding over trauma and conscious attunement is the difference between the questions, “what is hurting us?” and “how have we transformed our pain?” Conscious attunemtent doesn’t ignore trauma, it just doesn’t center it.
That being said, most (if not all) healing journeys begin at a place of self confrontation that invites a conscious attunement with yourself. I have accepted many of these invitations but the first two were radical.
The first confrontation was a peaceful experience in what was otherwise a chaotic situation in my childhood. It was a moment of profound mysticism where I felt wholeness, profound love, and surrender. I would go on to live with the inner knowing that all is okay because of my new found awareness of an expansive reality beyond this earth. Contrary to popular belief, these experiences do not turn you into the Buddha or absolve you from pain - unfortunately. When I returned from that place, I still had plenty of earthly experiences in my queue. In fact, the culmination of earthly experiences led me to my second radical confrontation.
My senior year of college I had a singular experience where failed a major assignment. To some, this may feel like small potatoes. For me, it was everything but. Failing anything was not in my plan. Failing was a direct blow to my perfectionism and status as “golden child” in my family. Ironically, the assignment I failed was to complete a genogram, a family tree that maps your family’s intergenerational patterns, and to write a brief reflection on it. The genogram was 38% of the grade and the reflection was 62%. Naturally, I created the most “perfect” genorgram, making even the most chaotic of family trees aesthetically pleasing.
Two days later I was myself - speed walking to class, racing to the receive the hit of validation only a 100% grade on a rubric can give a young perfectionist. I was shocked to find the number 38 circled on my rubric. I… failed? Holy shit, I failed. In a panic, I searched for my professor’s eyes which were already observing me. He mouthed, “it’s okay, see me after class.” I returned to my seat, front and center, and spent the next 90 minutes dissociated.
At the end of class, I asked him what happened. To which he replied, “you didn’t attach your reflection on the back of your genogram.” My brain scrambled. He was right, I had forgotten it. In hindsight, I believe I subconsciously rejected the assignment to reflect on my family because it would have been too painful. I begged him to allow me to turn it in and he lovingly said no. He was refusing to enable my perfectionism. Instead, I was invited to peel back the layers of it and sit with my deep longing to be truly seen and loved for who I am. He asked me, “what will happen if you continue to only give yourself 38%?” Hearing that changed my life. I wailed the kind of primal tears that occur when you experience something so true. I left the classroom only to continue sobbing on my bathroom floor in my apartment. I had been cracked open.
The next semester, my professor became my therapist. Fortunately, he was also a Marriage and Family Therapist and open to seeing me. During our weekly unpacking sessions, I found out that I am actually quite chill, deep, and have a large capacity to feel. I found my way back to myself.
In 2024 I continue to heal, integrate myself, and release intergenerational trauma. I have boundaries, deep relationships, and profound love and compassion for my family members. While it is often times complex, living in the reality of what is true is more fulfilling than comfort of avoidance.
Here are a few things I do to keep myself grounded:
I ask myself, “What is healing for me?” everytime I make a decision.
This helps me calm all of my parts and quiet indecisiveness.
I have strong boundaries.
I believe that people are not good or bad. People are made of complex parts that I have deep empathy for. At the same time, there are parts of them that I do not have the capacity for. The boundaries I form protect my peace, relational wellness, and keep me empathetic.
I spend time in nature.
I spend time with friends that nurture me.
Here are a few things I am working on:
Building community
Speaking up, even if it means discomfort.
Finding movement that feels deeply nourishing.
Being okay with being misunderstood.
My mantra is, “People that want to understand you will, no matter how many times you attempt to clarify.”
I hope this blog post helps humanize this platform. If you find yourself here, I am very grateful you have.
All my love,
Caroline