“Vulnerability is about showing up and being seen. It's tough to do that when we're terrified about what people might see or think.”
-Brene Brown

I am not sure if it is just coincidence or bad luck that the past 4 therapists I have tried to go to have been late, canceled, or simply forgotten about our appointments. Going to therapy at all was a challenge I took upon myself and accepted after finally witnessing the toll that the depth of my wild emotion was taking on my close relationships. I had decided that I needed to have a person to sift through my emotions with, and to be able to talk to openly and honestly about the things that I struggle through, with the hopes of clearing space for goodness in my other relationships. However, finding that therapist has proven to be a challenge with unforeseen obstacles.

The first time I tried to go to therapy, I arrived to a closed door. I waited for half an hour before reaching out, and to my horror she had double booked her schedule. I walked away crying. I sat in my car and wept, when I received a call as an apology and an invitation to come back. I was so desperate for help, I took it as a sign from the universe that this was one of the things I needed to work through, so I waltzed back in to try to mend things with the stranger who was supposed to be my go-to person. Within half an hour I realized how much resentment I held that she hadn’t been there the first time, and that I didn’t like her enough to try to get over that. I thanked her for her time, and walked away.

The second therapist I tried to see simply had forgotten that she scheduled me. In slight shock at my luck, I called her (crying again) and she rushed back to meet me. I wondered if it was a therapist ploy to get straight to the heart of abandonment issues or the genuine fear that lives in me that people won’t show up. Either way, I was exposed immediately. While I adored this therapist as a person, I again was unable to forgive the human error already in a fragile state from the previous saga. We broke up on mutual terms.

The third therapist I attempted, I checked and triple checked our timing. I showed up 5 minutes early to a “waiting room” which was an outdoor patio covered in snow. I waited 15 minutes while she hurried back from walking her dog. I tried to find humor in the pattern that was playing itself out. It takes a tremendous amount of effort for me to admit that I need help and that I no longer want to deal with my emotions on my own. It takes enormous amounts of trust and faith (that I don’t inherently have) to believe that someone will show up for me and reflect back my emotions in a way that helps me deeper understand them. My main need is that that person shows up when they say they will. Literally and physically. This therapist was already dealing with the repercussions of the last two, and unintentionally fulfilling my prophecy of revealing my inability to cope with human error.

Needless to say, I am still in the market for a therapist. I had an appointment to meet a life-coach/therapist on Wednesday, but she asked to reschedule to which to my slight chagrin I replied, “Hello. Currently, nearly everything in my life is in flux and I am seeking a person who can be one of the constants. If this is a one time thing, I would be willing to reschedule. However, if you require the flexibility to change your schedule, I am currently not emotionally equipped to handle that uncertainty. Thank you for understanding, I look forward to hearing from you. -Hannah” I clicked send before I could process the flurry of what I was saying.

You see, as someone who has spent a lot of time in motion, the thing that I am lacking is community. I have not given myself the time to develop deep relationships and show up for friends, family, and lovers. In turn I have jumped quickly into relationships with men who stood in place of an entire community that I was lacking. Naturally, these relationships exploded and I landed back at ground zero again without the support systems that were sustainable for my overall well-being. Instead of staying put, investing in my work and friendships, and dealing with my inner world, I set my eyes on travel and have spent the past 3 years in motion. The pattern continued to play out while I was moving, though the attachment was different and shorter lived.

Now, sitting in the depth of winter, I can see my pattern. I can see how beautifully and epically I was diving into life searching for meaning and love and acceptance, without staying anywhere long enough to cultivate meaning and love and acceptance. The truth is, that it isn’t simply something that you can rationalize. Community is what forms as you interact with your place of origin, the people in that place, and the land that surrounds that place. It takes time and patience to develop routines and schedules that sustain our well-being, and to find which people and things create more goodness within us. It isn’t simply some formula that magically grants you access to a stable mental state, but rather the slow process of learning to experience joy, pain, loss, excitement, and emotion in the context of a community that witnesses you. All at the same time, while you witness them.

The thing they don’t tell you about traveling, is how alone you feel when you come home with pocketfuls of your own experience without the proper space to share them. I wouldn’t take back any of it though because it has helped me see what I most deeply desire. The space to see and be seen for the wild flurry of emotion that I am, so that I can see the people I experience exactly as the emotions they are. I have been so afraid of the depth of my emotion, that I have assumed that no one will understand. I’ve fallen into relationships with men who I subconsciously knew couldn’t understand so that I could carry on believing that my emotion was ‘too much’ and ‘not real’ and ‘more than anyone could handle.’

But the spell has been broken and the weight has been lifted and I am finally able to see the people who are showing up. The friends that stand there proudly, that answer my calls, listen to me cry, and relentlessly cheer me on. The ones who make me feel proud to be able to feel as deeply and passionately as I feel, and the ones who understand that my joy rides the same train as my sorrow. I have begun to gather these people, as I hope you have either consciously or subconsciously done for yourself. And when I find these people, I do everything I can to show up for them too. As I learn to embrace my emotions as a gift, I learn to embrace other’s gifts as well. We grow together. As I slow down enough to sit with my pain, I allow others to sit with theirs.

I am no longer afraid of my emotion, though I am finally able to admit that I can’t do it alone. I am excited to grab its hand and walk straight into the world with it. To learn from it and how I can apply it to this life. It has guided me through some incredible places, romances, and victories. Now, the big adventure is learning how to stay in one place and show up for what matters. Hopefully, one day there will be that someone who can show up for me in a big way that makes me feel human. Its a delicate game, this life, and we are all doing our best to make it through.

So, for your ears as much as mine, be gentle with yourself… you wild and precious thing.