As I search for a simpler, more honest way to connect with others, removing the chaos and masks, I walked between the extremes of over-giving and detachment and almost lost my compassion, and myself. We live in a world where safety and emotional regulation are outsourced, where love is a word stacked with hidden agendas and manipulation and where vulnerability is given in exchange for behaviour control. I can’t help but ask myself these simple questions: is genuine, deeply intimate and vulnerable connection even possible, while remaining true to oneself, without falling prey to dependency, resentment and loss of self? And, is it possible to be truly self-led, self-owned, without becoming detached, resentful and cynical?
There are many sides to me. I have a rich tapestry of emotions, beliefs, opinions and ways of looking at the world and all the living beings inside it. I have always struggled with connection. True connection anyhow. I sit and reflect on past relationships and while they definitely had beautifully genuine moments, I face a truth that winds me—they were all missing something because they didn’t have what I was looking for. And that, I think, is where genuine connection dies.
The Weight of Inauthenticity
When I am willing to sell myself out, connection is easy. Stick on a mask, behave well, give people what they need and hey presto, I’ve got myself a connection worthy of envy.
But I can no longer sustain the weight of being somebody I am not. I can no longer live under the darkness of fear. Depression wasn’t just a sidekick, it was a skin I wore like a dress which society zipped up.
I am not a needs-vending-machine.
I am not an ’emotional regulator’.
I am not a container for your emotional outpour.
I am not the bubble-wrap you need to feel safe in life.
I am not here to make life palatable for you.
I am not a Man in Black, here to chase your demons away.
I am a human being. I have my own set of ‘all the above’ to tend to, how can I possibly manage mine and yours and not fall under the weight? Or should we trade? You have my ‘stuff’, I’ll take your ‘stuff’ and we can call that connection. I feel tension build in my stomach and heat rise up my spine as anger stirs—a contempt for society with all its promises and lies.
A Glimpse of (False) Freedom
For a short while, not too long ago, I felt like I was invincible. Armed with a fresh perspective, a spring in my step and a confidence I haven’t ever known. I had landed home, in my body. I was strong. Assertive. I got busy with building my personal philosophy – creating a new relational architecture – life was better than I’d ever known. I was smiling more. I became more confident in social settings. Things that used to cripple me now rolled off my back. I was communicating better and I was being open and vulnerable.
Wait.
What?
Amidst basking in post-fearful-avoidant joy, I failed to notice that the strength in all I was feeling wasn’t genuine strength at all. Don’t get me wrong—it was definitely alive and thriving—but the depth of what I felt wasn’t wholehearted strength; it was the absence of compassion and empathy.
The Swing of the Pendulum
I needed to go from the one extreme I’ve lived my whole life—over-giving, codependent, people pleasing and enmeshed—to the other, less lived extreme of detachment and slight dismissiveness in order for me to find my middle ground (not by conscious choice; I wouldn’t have electively chosen to close the gate on my humanity). But that’s what happened. And boy, did my avoidant part love having its time in the sun—only this time without reactive resentment or pain. It was a clean high. Pure. Uncontaminated. But like all drugs, it wore off. And it took honest conversations with myself and the witnessing of my connections to regain my compassion and my empathy without swinging back too far toward loss of self.
True Strength, True Connection
Bravery and strength aren’t the absence of fear, compassion, or empathy. Bravery and strength is embodying those things while standing true to who you are, being vulnerable and caring for the people who come into your life.
It’s having the courage to say no, I’m not here to fix you, to fix your pain, to chase away your demons – what I can do is hold you while you do that for yourself. No, I’m not here to emulate your safety, what I can give you is a safe space to be who you need to be, to be vulnerable, messy and human. No, I cannot give you consistency wrapped in prescribed behaviour that calms your nervous system, what I can give you is consistency in me being human, honest, vulnerable and , like you, messy.
Is genuine, deeply intimate and vulnerable connection possible, while remaining true to oneself, without falling prey to dependency, resentment and loss of self? I believe it is. Yes.
Is it possible to be truly self-led, self-owned, without becoming detached, resentful and cynical? Yes. Absolutely.
But there is a very fine line between being self-led, self-owned and being avoidant or dismissive and it takes courage, freedom, authenticity, reflection and honesty to find that line, which I’m now able see. It might be a little blurry while I navigate the infancy of being more secure in my attachments, but day by day that line becomes sharper and clearer. I realised, on reflection, that my past relationships failed not because they were missing something vital. They failed because I connected with these people with the intention of finding something, where I should have been intending to meet them as equal human beings – whole, messy and individual.
Are you searching, or are you meeting people where they’re at?
Are you living in compassionate strength, or are you sitting in dismissive bravery?
