Gwynn Raimondi, MA

Putting down the armor

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Sweetgrl, You have the power to break the cycles that have been passed down to you.  You have the power to dismantle them.  To question them.  To shift them.  To no longer accept them.  ~Anisah Amat

stay open darling, the world needs your kind of softness. ~s.c. lourie

stay soft.  it looks beautiful on you. ~nayyirah waheed

There’s a lyric in Beyonce’s song Daddy Lessons that goes:

Came into this world
Daddy’s little girl
And daddy made a soldier out of me
Oh, oh, oh
Daddy made me dance
And daddy held my hand
Oh, oh, oh
And daddy liked his whisky with his tea
And we rode motorcycles
Blackjack, classic vinyl
Tough girl is what I had to be

Many of us grew up needing to be a Tough Girl™, even though we were (and still are) highly sensitive and emotional people.  There was no room for tears or “weakness” growing up in our homes.  Stoicism was rewarded and a Tough Girl™ I-don’t-give-a-damn attitude was applauded.  Being soft, being sensitive, being emotional in any way was both ridiculed and punished.

Our Tough Girl™ persona has probably served us quite well through most of our lives.  As teenagers it may have been required for us to survive those challenging years of adolescence.  As we grew older our inner Tough Girl may have generally protected us from being hurt too much emotionally, mostly by not letting us actually get close to people or reveal too much of our actual inner workings (and emotions).

But our Tough Girl™ persona, is just that: a persona.  And honestly, it is more than likely that plenty of people saw through it while simultaneously going along with it.  

It is a form of our armor, for certain.  It allows us to rarely feel sadness or hurt and to stay in anger and or defensiveness.  And while this may have been a great survival tool growing up, it turns out it’s not  such a great way to be if you want to be in an emotionally intimate relationship.

Who knew?

Softness does not come easy for many of us.  It may be something we have been working at for years.  It may seem whenever we begin to feel softness, we can only sustain it for a short time before the armor goes up and Tough Girl™ takes charge again. It can be a challenging journey, and even with all our tools and resources we may struggle to allow our vulnerability, our softness, to come through very often.  

Softness, and vulnerability, is related to how we are able to trust.  For those of us with complex trauma trust is rarely an easy thing.  The entire time our brains were forming, we learned to not trust, or more to the point that there wasn’t anyone to trust and that people, particularly adults, were inherently untrustworthy.

And while this armor is incredibly protective in many ways, it is also lonely and even harmful.  The armor, the Tough Girl™ persona, prevents emotional intimacy, which means, in short, that it prevents us from being truly seen.  

If we can’t be truly seen, we are left feeling alone, and cannot meet our very human need to have a sense of belonging nor are we able to develop secure attachments.  

What does this mean?  Well it means that until we are able to be soft, to be vulnerable, appropriately, we will only ever be surviving and not able to to truly thrive.

Survival is important.  It is actually mandatory, from an evolutionary point of view.

Thriving is vital, even though we don’t need to thrive to survive.  

Many of us may not even know what thriving could look like, and we most certainly don’t know what it actually feels like (though perhaps we can imagine).

To me thriving looks like ease.  It looks like softness.  It feels gentle.  It feels loving.  I imagine there is much laughter in thriving.  And probably a lot of tears too.  And in the laughter and the tears there is a being held.  Both being held by ourselves and being held by trusted, and trustworthy, others.

Thriving definitely does not include defensiveness.  It does not include rigidity.  It does not include blaming (ourselves or others).  

It does definitely include compassion.  Empathy.  Love.  Boundaries.  Patience.  Joy as well as grief. 

Having the tools and resources to do this this work, this work of moving away from rigidity, from either/or thinking, into softness and the non-duality of both/and, is always one thing; utilizing them, practicing them, is something different entirely.  Practice is key.  Compassion is key.  Patience with ourselves and others is key.

To softness.  To emotional intimacy.  To thriving.

/../

This essay was originally written for my weekly(ish) newsletter in August 2018. It has been edited for publication here. To receive my most recent essays, you can subscribe here.

Connection, Community, Expansion

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I’ve been quiet here on the blog for the last couple weeks, after promising myself that I would write something at least twice a week. That seems to be how it goes: I swear to myself I will write here and then I have shift in focus and direction that leaves me not writing. Oftentimes not-writing leaves me feeling disconnected, a bit off kilter. This isn’t true of this most recent break from the blog.

In fact, I feel very connected. I have been reaching out more to my circles, the ones I participate in and the ones I lead. I have been broadcasting on Periscope and I have to say I really love the forum. I’ve also been connecting more with my alumni group and the Mindful Mantras group. I’ve also been more transparent with the (Un)Becoming circle as I do this work along side them at the same time I guide them through it. I have been searching for new ways to connect with women who are ready to dig into who they are, who are ready to explore and release the stories that have held them back for years. I’m uncovering ways I can connect more with the circles that have already gathered around my work.

I’m offering individual therapy and guide work sessions to new clients as well as those who have participated in the deeper soul work of Shedding Shoulds, Being & Becoming and the (Un)Becoming Quest. I’m brain-storming all the ways I can grow these circles, help more women and families, and expand the rebellious practices of body-centered mindfulness, self-awareness, and loving-kindness.

I’m reaching out. I’m stepping further into my core values of authenticity, transparency, connection, play and curiosity. I’m growing relationships.

Looking back over these first three years of my business, of my work with women to guide them to let go of stories that don’t fit, to deeply connect with their bodies and spirit, I see how I have held back. There were so many stories centered around fear and shoulds and scarcity. And what I have come to deeply realize over the last few weeks, and truly these are revelations born over the last month, is that those stories are bullshit.

Giving to others does not mean less for me. In fact, it means more: more creativity, more play and more curiosity.

Giving of myself does not mean less for me. In fact, it means more: stronger connections, deeper relationships, greater expansion of loving-kindness.

Being seen does not mean being ridiculed (well, not always and when it does that is no reason to hide; in fact it’s all the more reason to be seen, to guide others to break through their own fear, to model what it is to be vulnerable and authentic and do the work we are meant to do).

Being true to who I am and how I want to be in the world does not make me selfish or self-centered. In fact it means being more authentic, transparent, honest and real.

I’ve been looking ahead to 2016 and who I want to be and what I want to do. The words expand and expansion have found me and will be guiding me through the turn of the year. They will guide me until a new word comes to find me. They will join the words that have found me in years past: connect, release, soften.

I’m stepping further into my vulnerability by being seen more: on Periscope, Facebook, Twitter and Instagram. I am allowing the truth of who I am to be and releasing any shame I’ve had around it in years past. I am deeply committed to connecting more with my circles and my work. I am committed both to offering my work as a gift and allowing my work to financially support me. I’m shifting further into my being, into this next iteration of my becoming.

And so I don’t know how this blog will play a role. I hope to write and connect here once a week, because I do love this forum of writing out my thoughts. And I also want to focus on expanding what I do in this world and who I connect with. I want those connections to be deeper and more of a dialogue than a monologue.

Because that is what is truly important to me: building community  and connections while guiding others to deeper understanding of and connection to their own Self which in turns leads me to a deeper understanding of my own Self, which then allows me to guide others deeper and so the snowball grows.

As we approach Thanksgiving here in the States, I am reflecting on all I am grateful for: my home, my family—nuclear, extended and chosen; my clients who allow me to hold space for them as they process their grief and family transitions; and the women who allow me to guide them into deeper knowing of themselves. I am deeply grateful for community in all its forms as I look forward to expanding connections in the months and years to come.

As part of my expansion and searching for ways to connect more, I am offering a free webinar on Tuesday, November 24, where we will discuss self-care, self-love and how to move past the stories that stop us from getting them. You can register to join us here.

Sacred Self will begin in a little over a week and currently has a 36% discount for those who sign up with a friend. You can learn more about this three-week online retreat here.

I look forward to connecting with you as 2015 comes to a close and 2016 is born. May we all enjoy connection, release, softness and expansion in the year to come.

A portion of my intuitive collage board for 2016. I knew it was time to focus on connection and community before I fully knew it was time. ;)
A portion of my intuitive collage board for 2016. I knew it was time to focus on connection and community before I fully knew it was time. 😉

Wishes and Prayers Answered and Becoming

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When my daughter was younger she used to wish upon the sun, using the logic that our sun is a star. She would alter the well-known rhyme to “Starlight, star bright, first star I see alright. I wish I may I wish I might have the wish I wish in daylight” and she would make whatever wish her heart called in that moment.

She also prays to the Tooth Fairy. After each tooth lost, all eight now, before we start to read our story for the night, she will quietly lay down on her bed, fold her hands together at her chest, close her eyes and send a prayer to the Tooth Fairy that she not take her tooth, that she understand her unwillingness to let this literal piece of herself go just yet, and could she please go ahead and leave the money anyhow. (If you were wondering, of course the Tooth Fairy always answered by complying).

To date, this sweet girl always asks before she gets a piece of candy or sits down at the computer or to watch TV. She makes sure she is “allowed” and at closing in on eight, I wonder how much longer this will last. How will her way of checking in with us change? When will she stop asking permission and instead choose to ask for forgiveness? How did we ever raise a girl concerned with rules?

Curled up close at the end of the day, or as we are at the sink brushing our teeth or at the breakfast table or randomly in the car she will say “Thank you for being the best mommy in the whole world!”  I’m never sure what I have done to deserve those words, and certainly could give you a long list of things I have done to prove I do NOT deserve those words, and yet she gives them to me, a gift straight from her soul into mine.

I am in awe of this girl child growing into a young woman. I’m not always sure where she came from, and the joke in our family for a long time was we didn’t know who her mother was. Despite all my foibles and outright failures she is a beautiful person, shining brightly every day. I’m honored to be her mama, and I hope as she grows and our relationship has its storms, we both always remember this: She is her own Self—she is not mine even though she came from me, both my body and my heart, and I will always love her and be proud of her, even when I don’t agree with her or her choices.

Because there will likely come a day when she makes a choice that worries me or scares me or worse: reminds  me too much of myself. I pray that I enter those times with grace, allowing her to be her own person, make her own mistakes or even prove me wrong with my worry or fear. I pray I don’t get lost in my own ego and judgement and that I am gentle with her, even more so than when she was an infant, even more so than I am now. I pray I always let her know that no matter what, I am her mama, I love her, and she always has a place in our home.

I pray for a life for her I did not know. I pray for a relationship between us to be one I did not have with my own mother until it was almost too late.

I know in my heart, it will be different, she and I will be different, our relationship has already been different these first seven plus years. And I breathe in the truth that I let go of the stories of how children should be raised and how girls should act and held onto my own truth of what it means to be a mama, what it is to raise a child with love and respect and compassion, what it means to raise a girl into a woman.

And so my prayers may already be answered as I look over at this beautiful girl, engrossed in a game of creation. Her gangly legs bent and her posture that of a teen already. I say another silent prayer: please slow down, please let me savor these between moments a bit longer.  Because the truth is,  it all goes too fast, even when we are paying attention.

her own self

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Dreaming of the future, the past, & the now

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Beneath the twinkle lights, I find myself staring out into the fog that has enveloped our fairy forest. The chilly coziness of this grey blanket brings a smile upon my face as I dream of my future that is quickly becoming my now.

I dream of women gathered together, around a campfire on an ocean beach. Howling, laughing, crying. Hugging, holding. Seeing each other’s strength in their vulnerability to share and shed and be and unbecome and become. Being witness to the evolution and transformation of each beautiful soul in those moments of community, grace, and sisterhood.

My dream shifts to couples sitting together, around a short coffee table alter, a fire burning in the background. They are holding each other, hands, shoulders. Tears fall and laughter rings. Repair, reconnection, returning to their foundations. Seeing each other again as they see the other couples in the room. Witnessing their common threads of trials and pain and knowing on the path to healing they are not alone.

My smile broadens as the images of children playing, connecting, sharing comes into my vision. Mothers and fathers in circle together with each other, with their children and without. Days together of joy, connection, seeing and finding new ways to be together, to cope with the ever changing way of being in their particular family. Beauty as understanding comes forward and villages are built. Connection, support, chosen family.

As I sit here at my desk, my smile broadens. I am humbled to know these dreams are being birthed now, both in my internship and guide work allowing me to do the work my heart is called to do: Connecting, healing, circling, transforming.

And as I sit and think of my future, I see so clearly the now that is forming: the women who are gathering and circling with me now in my programs; who are called to quest and circle with each other, allowing me to guide them along this step of their journeys. I feel a deep gratitude for this work and these women. I find myself in awe of them and me: the long journeys we have all been on, together and not, each of us transforming ourselves and each other along the way.

I see my own transformation in this work, this work that fulfills me and changes me and allows me to give to the world as others have given to me. I see my own trust, lost and found, in my own soul and body as it expands and comes more fully into being. I feel myself, my own raw stories, and I know that I am softer and stronger and that these two things are not opposites but necessary compliments of each other. I feel my own juicy center bubble up and feel that knowing smile as I look back and forward and feel the very essence of the now.

There is more to any story we have, and for my own stories, the digging deep, the unearthing and then the exploration, the examination, the questioning and asking has all come both naturally and as though pulling teeth without anesthetic. I know my own metamorphic pains and I am witness to the pains of others, as they go through their own fires and rise from the ashes, shedding what isn’t theirs and becoming more themselves than before.

As Shedding Shoulds comes to a close this week and my focus turns to Being and Unbecoming, I am feeling nostalgic of this circle of life and transformation. I think of the layers and depths and spirals we all travel through and down and on and feel the community of growth and expansion and rebellion. I see, in each circle that gathers, a bit more of the status quo worn away and a new way of being and living and loving emerging.

And that’s what happens when we circle and it is why I do this work: we change ourselves, yes; we change each other, for sure; and whether we see it or not, we are changing the world to be a place of softness and strength, of beauty and awe and most importantly, love.

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