Admit. It’s a small word. A simple concept.
We require admission from others, but often forget to require it ourselves. But after we’ve
asked our own questions, it is time to admit the answers, or even just admit
the truths of our situation, to ourselves at least. Being honest with ourselves,
without debate, without recrimination or self-blame, is an enormous step
towards a happy and healthy No Kidding life.
We all have different things to
admit to ourselves. Or I do at least. We all have stories we tell ourselves.
Sometimes it is worth questioning those, as I pointed out last week, and then
admitting the truth. Because admitting the truth helps our acceptance. If we’re
not telling ourselves the truth, we’re not finding full acceptance.
What might we need to admit when
discovering our No Kidding lives?
Perhaps we need to admit that maybe
we’ve been clinging on to hope that things will be different. Perhaps we need
to admit that we’ve felt comfort in the grief and the what-ifs, and have stayed there too long.
Perhaps we need to admit that looking to the future is scary, and admit that we
don’t want to do it.
Perhaps we need to admit that we genuinely
didn’t know that it would be so hard to face, that we thought infertility and
loss and the uncertainty was the hardest thing. Perhaps we need to admit that the loss of hope,
and the need to turn away from that hope, is harder than we could ever have imagined.
Perhaps we need to admit that the
end has been harder than anything we’ve faced so far. Or perhaps we need to admit
that maybe, for us, it has not been.
Perhaps we just need to admit that
we feel lost and alone, and that we need help. Perhaps we need to admit that we
need to know we’ll be okay. Perhaps we need to admit that we don’t think we
will be okay. That we are scared. Or lonely. Or both. Perhaps we need to admit
that we need to know someone understands. Perhaps we need to admit that we expect far too much of ourselves.
Or perhaps we need to admit that we
are doing okay, and that this isn’t the nightmare scenario we had led ourselves
to believe. Perhaps we need to admit that we might feel some relief at the end
of the journey. Perhaps we need to admit that we like our lives.
And perhaps we need to admit that
we are not infallible. That we can experience and admit all these thoughts and
feelings and truths of our lives, and that there will be contradictions. We can
admit that it is never all good, but that also means that it is never all bad.
That it is okay to slip, have ouch moments and down days. That things will
bother us. That our growth will be a gradual process. That sometimes we will
feel like we’re taking one step forward and two steps back. Perhaps we can
admit all that, but still know we will be okay. Admitting that is a major achievement!
It’s an ongoing process too. Just
this morning I admitted something to myself I didn’t really want to know. I’m questioning
how true it is, but the admission has been useful. I just need to figure out
how to deal with it.
There’s a freedom in admitting the
truth to ourselves. Sure, initially it can be painful. But in admitting who we
are or who we are not, what works or doesn’t work for us, we learn more about
how we can get the best from ourselves, how we can get the best from others,
and from whatever it is that the world offers us. It means too that we’re not
hiding – at least to ourselves – the truth. That relieves us of a sometimes
heavy burden, and gives us time and space and clarity to more freely navigate
the future.
What do you need to admit to yourself?
It always amazes me how your posts come into my reader when I most need them. And damn if I didn't need this one today. Thanks for this one. Sending love to you from another Pacific Coast.
ReplyDeleteAnd love goes back across to you. I'm glad I unwittingly wrote something helpful.
DeleteThis is such a powerful post. It was so hard to admit that feeling of relief to be done with the process of trying to add to our family, and to admit that I love our family of two because sometimes it feels like a betrayal to how much I wanted children, in those emotional ouch days. Admitting I'd hit my enough was the doorway I had to blow through the get to a life that is better than I'd expected it could be without the dream we fought for. That contradictory feeling things is the hardest for me.
ReplyDeleteI love that "the stories we tell ourselves" phrase. So true.
Yes, that feeling of betrayal. I know it well. But that's what we have to let go. I wrote a post called Heresy once, after another No Kidding friend described it in a conversation - https://nokiddinginnz.blogspot.com/2015/01/microblogmondays-heresy.html
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