Why I'm Done Shrinking to Feel Safe

The past 18 hours have been an emotional rollercoaster for me – but unfortunately, not a an unfamiliar one. A miniscule comment triggered many deep realizations, a few dismissive conversations, and a night of journaling. It’s easy to notice the physical scars. It’s easy to acknowledge feeling violated when someone hits you or snatches your purse. It’s easy to feel the pain of a car accident, a surgery, or a physical illness. But what if the pain that’s being repeated over time isn’t physical? What if you barely notice it? What if you don’t even believe that it’s happening? 

Last night, something happened to me that was both psychologically and emotionally jarring. My initial reaction was to ignore it or laugh it off, but as I’ve been learning about somatic healing and paying attention to my body, I quickly noticed that my body was not dismissing what was happening. She was offended. She was uncomfortable. She wanted to be acknowledged.

I paid attention to her by doing what I knew to do. I contacted my friends and family – the closest people to me. I told them what happened and while some acknowledged that what happened was wrong, I also paid attention to other things that were being said – things that I’ve often heard before throughout the years. “Oh, he was high.” “Oh, he was just joking. He didn’t mean anything by it.” “Let it go, life is too short.” “You’re just being sensitive.” In the past, I took this support as gold. I’d tell myself, “Oh, they’re right. I’m just overthinking this. I’m being sensitive. I need to let this go.” But this time, I noticed my body speaking louder to me: You’ve been through this before, Monique. You listen to everyone around you, even when it doesn’t feel good to you. And WE end up feeling worse. Trust me this time. Let’s feel these feelings. I realized that my body has always been speaking to me, not just through physical signs but through emotions and intuitive hits. I realized that I’ve been hurting myself by staying in situations that don’t honor me, by putting my emotional well-being in the hands of those who have been unequipped. I realized that I found myself in a constant loop, hoping that one day it would click; that someone in my circle would say, “I’m sorry this happened to you. How can I support you?

” 

The problem was not my support system. The problem was that I needed a new one. The problem was that I wasn’t listening to my intuition and to my body because I allowed my support system to convince me that I was being sensitive and crazy. Gaslighting was not a term known to my younger self, but it has always been a very constant presence in my life. 

Gaslighting and a lack of emotional support can lead a person to mistake survival mode for stability. It can inspire people to stay in toxic and abusive work environments because that’s the “stable and responsible” thing to do. It can inspire people to lean on emotionally unavailable people because it feels like it’s the only option. After a while, the pain feels normal. You become accustomed to silencing your own needs, feeling like you must earn love and stability. 

Little by little, I’ve been awakening. I stopped taking calls from older relatives who felt it was their God-given right to verbally berate and tear me down with every phone call, because they were older. Me just taking their attacks was considered a form of respect. It took a therapist to point out to me that someone sharing a DNA strand doesn’t grant them permission to mistreat you. My body continued to scream at me until I had no choice but to listen to her and understand that she’d always want the best for me. I became unapologetic about blocking people who violate my boundaries. I HAVE boundaries now! And I understand that another person’s inability to be emotionally available to me is not a me problem. It’s a them problem. I now honor that I deserve more. I survived so much – but I don’t want to just survive anymore. 

Last night, I allowed myself to sit with my feelings. I felt the trigger of what was done to me, as well as the dismissive comments masquerading as support. I mourned for every time I sought out emotional support to be told to shut up, to let it go, to stop being so sensitive, and to stop being a troublemaker. I learned to name the pain instead of suppressing it. I’m learning to verbalize how I truly feel and know that it’s safe to do it. I’m learning to reflect on these patterns without blaming myself. My softness, my emotions, and my self-expression are not weaknesses. They are superpowers that have been my true support systems throughout my life. 

Today, I choose me, and I don’t worry about hurting feelings or upsetting anyone when I do it. Today, I choose self-protection over self-sabotage. I write down my feelings and check in, making sure that I show up for me. I develop my vision of freedom: creative work, financial peace, and emotional safety. 

I don’t have to keep bleeding for people to believe that I’ve been hurt. I’m allowed to heal. Loudly.