Leap

Sometimes it is necessary to do things that make us feel stronger by allowing ourselves to be weaker. There is a lot of strength in saying, "I can't." or "I don't know how." There is power in saying, "I need help...I'm not getting this right." For me personally, there is also a lot of weakness. I focus on that too much and that makes it hard to see the strength and power beyond the weakness. It's hard to admit that I can't handle it, hard to ask for help, and hard X3 when I have to trust someone in that way. But, I did all that.

I went under protection.

It was something I had never actually considered till it was offered to me. Then the more I contemplated, the more I felt like it was something I wanted to accept. As much as it was something I needed "done" for me, it was also something I needed to do for myself.

The easiest part of the decision was that I didn't think she saw it as weakness, even as I felt that in my acceptance. She had never treated me as "less than", even when I was open enough to admit I didn't always handle things the way I knew I should. She was never the least bit smug or "above me" when offering me advice or mentoring me. Since accepting her offer of protection, she's never really acted like it was a big deal. She takes it seriously, but not in a way that makes me fret over it. It's becoming something I not only enjoy, but that I place great value on having in my life.

For me, this was never about a pride thing. This was about a trust thing. This was about a vulnerability thing. When I considered her offer, I could admit to myself that not only did I need this type of support, but I needed to learn to build trust in this emotional way. This very specific vulnerable, emotional trust.

I have learned to get to a pretty comfortable level of trust with many people in my life, but I still hold the really hard stuff close to me. Protect it as all my own to deal with. I don't want to trouble people. I don't want to put people out. The result is, I trust people to hurt me, but trusting them emotionally, is a whole other step. I didn't know how to start. Every time I tried and was sharing emotionally, I ended up at home, overwhelmed with guilt. Upset and disappointed in myself. Panic and anxiety overwhelming me, sure I was being seen as weak, troublesome, annoying...a complainer.

I know that sometimes I just have to *decide* certain things mentally and then work toward making my emotions catch up. So I did that. I made the terrifying, completely mental decision, that I was going to trust. Just trust. Start with one person and see if this "decision" type trust building worked. Flip the switch and just trust. Period.

Genuine leap of faith.

Maybe it's a stupid idea and I'll regret it in the end. But, if I try in this way, with one person, maybe I'll figure out a way to let trust grow. So I'm going to trust. I'm going to share, hopefully preemptively, the things she might need to know about me. I'm going to let her help...even when it hurts and makes me stammer and feel uncomfortable. I'm going to ask fewer questions and assume that she's not making random decisions that might hurt me. I'm going to believe she values the trust she receives, because she knows how literally I pry it from my own hands to pass to her.

I'm working to feel less guilt about the time she spends teaching me things. I already worry less that I bother her. I'm going to, by needle or knife if necessary, slow my brain down more often, and not obsess that I'm not doing things "right". I'm going to say thank you when I'm thankful, and believe that she knows that I mean that. I'm going to let go of apologies that choke my throat and muddle my brain when I somehow twist everything into something I've done wrong. I'm trying to let go of how I could make her life easier if I wasn't this...whatever I am, for her to "deal" with.

I *trust* that at the very core of it all, she offered. I *trust* that she knows what she offered, what she wants, and what she's doing...even while I'm winging all that in my own life. For now, I'm still trusting all that because I decided mentally I was going to. Surprisingly though, it does seem like I'm cautiously trudging emotionally along to catch up to my brain.