Last night, I went to bed restless, upset and depleted. What started as an incredible day ended with me caught up in mind chatter. I woke up at 3:30am completely pissed off and angry. I tossed and turned. I felt utterly alone and unsupported.
How could I feel this way with so many incredible people that I interact with on a daily basis? Circles of women who I connect deeply with multiple times a week? Sleeping next to this incredible man who does, and would do, anything for me? Who I know loves me unconditionally?
I pondered this admonition “you are all alone” and saw that it had absolutely no validity, but I still felt the pain of it. I sat with this, observing it, and then allowed myself to feel the pain.
Finally, I cracked. I started sobbing. I couldn’t breathe. Brent woke up in a panic. “What’s wrong? What’s wrong? Are you ok? Talk to me.” But I couldn’t talk. All I could do was cry. And I thought, FINALLY I have cracked. Finally I am releasing this built up energy. Finally I am allowing the hormones to be expressed. Finally I am letting go.
I have been working so hard on this Sistership Circle launch coming up next month and working as if I’m not pregnant. I am surrounded by a team of people, but can’t feel their support. I know it is me feeling unsupported and not actually the truth that they are not supporting me. In the past I would have blamed. But I see the truth of it. It is my old wound, my old block resurfaced.
I have been giving such a huge output of energy since Peru and I haven’t allowed myself to receive. I haven’t allowed myself to need or want anything. I’ve put my head down to focus on what needs to get done in an old pattern without tending to my self-care to fill up my cup.
I feel the way I felt when I launched my book back in March and I had no money and I had to be vulnerable and ask for support. I had to allow myself to surrender and fall apart and allow others to contribute to me. That was the feminine, being the cup, the vessel, to be filled, to overflow, to expand past my own individual capacity.
And here I am again, at the next level of that. A baby in my womb who needs mama to fill up and get her needs met. Baby Be kept kicking last night … first time I really felt the kicking and it wouldn’t stop. “Stop it mama!” I can’t sacrifice myself. I have to let go and open up and be in my feminine. I need to stop the pushing, ignoring my own needs.
I need to be held. I want to be held. I desire to be held. I cannot lead from this old place of holding space for others and not filling up my own cup. I can’t pretend to hold myself all together and not be vulnerable.
As I cried, Brent just held me. That’s all I wanted. I didn’t want a solution, there was nothing to talk about. I just needed to be held. I needed to be received.
I’m scared. Scared to be seen so vulnerably even though I’ve been seen in this place countless times. Yes, it feels a little easier than before, but still the shame comes up.
Am I going to be able to pull this off? Can I do this? The fear of failure choking me. And then I remember: it’s not about ME pulling something off. It’s about me surrendering and allowing it to come through me. I am a conduit. I need to empty out, then fill my cup and just be the space for Sistership Circle. Not the doer, the savior, the martyr, the “leader” put on a pedestal. But the space itself. The shakti. The embodiment. And this is what it looks like to be in Circle. Circle is not outside of us. It is us. I am the Circle. I am never alone. I am one, with all parts of me equal. I surrender. And so it is.