Being Untrustworthy... I’ll just go ahead and say it- I struggle with perfectionism. Logically, I know the damage perfectionism does to my mind and body. But I also understand why and give myself a lot of compassion when those old habits rear their ugly little heads. I remind myself, “Of course you want to be perfect. This is how you were socialized.” As a young girl, I was always expected to act just right and was praised heavily for it. One of my mom’s favorite sayings was, “If you can’t do it right the first time, don’t do it all.” (She was also raised with the same pressures to perform, so I don’t blame her.)
Consequently, I pushed myself endlessly. I remember crying and running out of the classroom the first time I made a C on a test (which was the highest in the class, by the way). I was in the habit of pushing my mind and body to the limit. Nothing less than perfect was acceptable.
I didn’t know it then, but this created a lot of distrust in my body. When it was trying to tell me to slow down, I would respond with, “Come on, girl. Stop being such a wimp!” Or, “You’ve got to get this done. So, suck it up. Keep going.” In high school, I was really into sports, so the culture of pushing your body to the max just compounded that approach to my body and mind. My body would tell me it had reached its max, even to the point of throwing up, and I would say (along with the coach screaming in my ears), “You can’t quit. Quitting is not an option!”
Now, that makes for a good sports team, but the cost of that was my body learning that I was not on its side.
When my body spoke, I dismissed it, as if it was an annoying child, telling it to do better. I was anything but trustworthy. No one would trust anyone who treated them the way I treated myself.
So, it made sense that when I began to face chronic health issues, my approach was to try and beat it into submission (which, of course, did not work!) But that was all I knew. It was all I was taught.
Eventually, I knew something needed to change, but I had no idea what.
Then, one day, my embodiment coach asked me, “Have you asked your body for consent? Have you asked if it is ready to let it all go?”
To which I responded, “What???? Why would I do that?”
That was 1 year ago.
Things are a lot different since that day. It has been a process, but I have been learning how to build trust with my body once more. That looks like a lot of self-compassion, love, and most of all, asking for consent. For example, when I feel resistance in my body when trying something new, I ask, “Are you ready? Do you want to do this?” If the answer is no, then I ask, “What’s going on? Tell me about it. What are you afraid will happen?” Followed by, “What do you need from me?” And instead of an all-out war between me and my body, it has become a beautiful conversation. Sometimes, with some support, my body will release the tension and come along. But sometimes, my body will share incredible wisdom and insight into things I was not aware of, leading me to make a different decision.
I am still learning how to relate to my body with that delicate balance of both asking for consent AND challenging it to expand its current capacity, but it is not from a place of trying to pursue the illusive perfect or expect the impossible. More often than not, it comes from a place of trust- both trust in my body that it is capable of growing and expanding, and also that I care what it has to say, and I will not push it beyond its limitations to prove my worth to the world.
And for that, I am so thankful. It is such a better way to move through the world. I highly recommend it to any of you who can resonate with my story.
Start by asking,
In what ways am I relating to my body in a way that cultivates distrust rather than trust? What small shift can I make today to begin relating to myself differently?
If you want to know more about this or would like to get support in learning how to build more trust with yourself, sign up for a free discovery session here.
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