Gwynn Raimondi, MA

Reclamation, Resistance, Self-Compassion, & It isn’t all ours to shift

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Knowing yourself is first step towards self reclamation. ~Amit Gupta

One is never afraid of the unknown; one is afraid of the known coming to an end. ~Jiddu Krishnamurti

The oldest and strongest emotion of mankind is fear, and the oldest and strongest kind of fear is fear of the unknown. ~H.P. Lovecraft, Supernatural Horror in Literature

I believe it is important for us to acknowledge that any trauma processing work that we do, is all about unlearning old survival patterns, cycles, and instincts that no longer serve us well.  Most of us have been using these old survival tools for decades.  We know them.  We know them likely better than we know any other part of ourselves.  And even though they no longer serve us, they are still what is known and therefore what is comfortable for us.

Doing this work of calming our nervous systems, connecting to our boundaries, reclaiming our bodies, and coming into the present moment by finding our center and ground is all the work of the unknown.  Unknown because it was never modeled for us as kids (in fact I am guessing the opposite is what we learned).  Unknown because we have unprocessed trauma living within us.  Unknown because we live in a culture that doesn’t make space for such things.  

And what is unknown, we often interpret as scary, terrifying even, especially those of us living with relational or betrayal trauma (trauma that we experienced due to the actions of a caregiver or trusted loved one against us). The unknown can be full of all kinds of horrible things, and often we think the “devil we know is better than the devil we don’t.”

All of this spills over into our relationships with others: our partners, our kids, our friends, other family members.  Those of us who have experienced relational or betrayal trauma don’t know how or who to trust, or how to be vulnerable (or who to be vulnerable with).  We don’t know what it is to express our emotions or boundaries in a way that doesn’t cause harm (to ourselves or others).  We don’t know how to be able to tolerate other’s uncomfortable emotions, let alone our own, and become quickly overwhelmed and agitated by “big feelings” of grief, sadness, anger, etc that another person is expressing. 

All this avoidance of emotions and sensations and vulnerability and expression makes it pretty tough to have deep, authentic, relationships, with anyone, including ourselves.

Of course we all carry our own stuff around with us: our histories, our trauma, our biases, our skewed lenses and view of the world.  All of us.

And.

Those of us who are able to become more and more self aware, who are able to become more and more at home within our own skin (literally and figuratively), are also able to see, at least sometimes, what stuff that is coming up in relationship or in our interactions is ours and what is the other person’s.  (This is boundary work, y’all.) And that then allows us to begin to have deeper and more authentic relationships with other people, as well as with ourselves.

Yes, this work is challenging.  And yes, I have many moments of “I don’t wanna” or worse, that deep feeling of overwhelm of just having So Freaking Much to unlearn, unravel, dislodge, and process.  It is exhausting when we think of all the harm that has been done to us and all the ways it impacts our lives.

And with every moment that we are able to be present, each time we catch ourselves before we go into overwhelm and soothe our systems, with every intentional and mindful yes and no we utter (and honor), we are shifting generations old – that’s hundreds if not thousands of years old – patterns, cycles, and ways of being.

That’s pretty freaking huge. 

To be able change a family or cultural pattern that has been being passed down for hundreds, possibly thousands, of years?  That makes us all super heroes and heroines in my book.

I believe is important to mention: it isn’t all our work to process or shift or heal.  We are individuals and as such we each can only do so much within our own family systems in bringing about change.  Of course we will pass some things on to the next generation that we wished we didn’t.  And. Let us for a moment (at least) consider all that we have stopped, shifted, and outright changed.

We are all in the process of learning.  All of us.  We are all in the process of unlearning.  All of us.

We are all in the process of breaking generations old cycles and patterns.

We are all in the process of healing our own wounding.

We are all in the process of trying to provide salve to those we unintentionally wounded.

Well, at least, I believe most of us are.  

And for those of us who are in this process, I believe it is vital that we learn self-compassion. 

Not that we give ourselves a pass, or make excuses for harm we have caused.  Rather to acknowledge that we are human, fallible.  That we will make mistakes.  That the wounding we carry is not our fault, that we didn’t ask for it, that it isn’t fair we have to carry it.  That we are doing the best we can with the tools we have and we are in the process of seeking new and different tools to continue this work.

This work of reclaiming our bodies, of reclaiming our whole Self, of feeling good in our skin, of being present even when we are in uncomfortable emotions, sensations, and situations, of trying to find our ways to deeper and more meaningful relationships with others and with ourselves… it is not something we know.  It is not something we grew up learning or witnessing.  It is not something that feels normal (yet).  It is different.

It is unknown.  And so we fear it, we have a resistance to it, we try to avoid it, we shy away from it.  We sit in that space of “I don’t wanna!” 

This is all okay.  This, I believe, is a normal reaction.  It is of course so much easier to remain as we are than it is to do this work of processing and shifting and reclaiming.

It is an act of bravery, of rebellion, of self-care, to do this work.  Doing this work is breaking possibly hundreds, if not more, years of wounding, of harm, of trauma.  

And that is enormous.

/../

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

Practices to help us slow down

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She wore her ferocity like armor, and it was purely asexual armor. Liraz was untouchable and untouched.  ~Laini Taylor, Days of Blood & Starlight

I’m learning to let go of my shields, to take the armors off (they are too heavy anyways) and march unguarded, if ever the need arises, towards the battlefield in defense of love. ~ Ayokunle Falomo, thread, this wordweaver must!

Pretty armour doesn’t make a warrior. ~Mark Lawrence, Emperor of Thorns

We live in a world that applauds busyness.  If we aren’t doing-doing-doing, then we are wasting time, wasting space, wasting our life.  Rest is unacceptable.  Self-care is considered selfish.  Slowing down, or worse, actually stopping, is a clear sign of our laziness. 

A truth is if we are overwhelmed with our busyness, there is little to no time, space, or energy for true connection — not with our own Self, not with those we hold most dear, not even truly with our community.  The more we are doing the less we are being.  The more we are distracted with our long to-do list of task after task after endless task, the less we are questioning why we are allowing ourselves to be so busy, the less we question the status quo, the less we question if there is another way to live, another way to be, a way to actually feel fulfilled, loved, connected.

A way to move beyond our busyness, to find our way to being able to tolerate being present in, and even learn to enjoy, the now, is by coming home to our bodies.  When we are able to slow down and calm our sympathetic nervous systems and then move into the work of connecting even more to our bodies, our boundaries, our connection to ground and our own center, we learn to be in the present, we begin to feel the grip of those endless to-do lists loosen and our whole being be able to relax.

This is a process.  And there are some little tips and tricks, beyond the nervous system exercises I share in my weekly newsletter and on social media, that I have found helpful, perhaps you will too.

Sticky Notes: Write a single word or phrase on a stickie (or several) and stick it on your bathroom mirror, your refrigerator, your closet door, your window sill, your walls, where ever you like.  The more stickies you are willing and able to put up around your home, the better.  These are gentle reminders of our intentions, of the ways we want to live.  When we walk by them and notice them, we can take a moment to breathe in and exhale and allow that word or phrase to enter into our conscious mind.  Also, when we pass by them and don’t consciously notice them, our peripheral vision will see them and send that message into our subconscious (which is where the real work of shifting and change needs to happen).

“Tattoo” your inner forearm: Write a word or phrase on your inner forearm with a marker (trust me, even “permanent” ink washes off relatively easily).  This serves the same purpose as the stickies, the difference being it is more of a constant reminder of what we wish to embody.

Window Chalk the Windows: Same as the previous two, but putting these words or phrases on our windows, glass sliding doors, and or mirrors.  We can embellish the words or phrases as we like, adding flowers or butterflies or hearts or whatever you like. 

Some words and phrases you could use:

  • Ease
  • Love
  • Gentle
  • Breathe
  • Slow or Slow down
  • Rest
  • Compassion
  • Play
  • Laugh
  • Soft/Softness/Soften
  • I am love(d)
  • I am enough
  • I am safe in this moment
  • I am worthy
  • I am deserving
  • I am my own Self
  • I am NOT her
  • Break Patterns
  • Break Cycles
  • Rebel
  • Revolt
  • Shift

You get the idea.  

Folding Laundry “Meditation”: While folding laundry practice paying attention to what you actually doing.  No TV on, no music, simply standing or sitting folding the laundry, noticing each piece of clothing — its colors, textures, size (You may also begin to notice stains and small holes or tears that need attention!).  In time you can add breathing to this exercise if you like, taking a slow, big inhale as you begin folding the piece of the clothing and letting out a fully, big, forced exhale as you finish and set it on the folded clothes pile.

Washing Dishes “Meditation”: Similar to Folding Laundry, but adapted to work with washing dishes: noticing the temperature of the water, the way the soap bubbles melted, the colors and textures of the dishes and utensils.  You can do this even as loading the dishwasher, it is all about noticing what is happening, what you are doing, paying attention.  When you notice your thoughts have begun to wander, bring them back to the task at hand and back to noticing.

Cleaning “Meditation”: Adapting the above exercises to any type of cleaning exercise: sweeping or mopping, cleaning mirrors, windows, counters, toilets, tubs.  Noticing the feel of the rag or sponge or brush in our hands, noticing the difference between the dirty parts and the parts you just cleaned, noticing colors and textures, etc.

Laughter: Google “dumb dad jokes” and go to the images and let yourself chuckle.  Or watch your favorite comedian or comedy show or movie.  Read a kids’ joke book.  Whatever it takes to laugh, do it.  (Laughter has been shown to help calm our sympathetic nervous system and to boost our production of endorphins and serotonin.)

Connecting to nature: Go sit at the base of a tree, go barefoot in the grass, sand, mud.  If you like hiking, go for a hike.  If you like gardening, go pull some weeds or transplant a plant, or harvest the fruits and vegetables you have been growing.  Water a house plant and stand with it and talk to it, breathing in the oxygen it is is producing and giving it some extra carbon dioxide to process.

These practices are things you can try if you are feeling resistant to the more “formal” nervous system regulation exercises or in addition to them. They are ways to help us slow down, to be in the now, to remind your body that in this moment, you are physically safe.

None of this is a quick or easy fix.  None of it will completely change you overnight, or within a week or even within six months.  And you will start to notice little shifts, you will start to take those moments to pause, and in time those pauses will become longer and longer.

/../

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

Curiosity and honoring our own wants and needs

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Darling girl,
follow that white rabbit
and fuck what they say.
~Ann Marie Eleazer

We have to consciously study how to be tender with each other until it becomes a habit. ~audre Lorde

say yes
to new
adventures.
~unknown

There will be people in our lives who when we meet them, we know that we are going down a rabbit hole and when we come back up, we will be forever changed.  People who we know will break us further open, who will gently guide us back to our Self, who will inspire so much feeling within us that at times we feel we might burst.

If we are lucky we get to meet multiple people like this in our lifetimes.  People who push us lovingly outside our comfort zones, people who, when we are around them, we want  to push ourselves outside our comfort zones.  People who, simply knowing them is truly an adventure.  People who we feel alive with, free with, connected with, at peace with.

Sometimes these people will be in our lives for a very long time, decades, maybe even most of our lives.  Sometimes these people will be in our lives for a very short time: a few hours, a day, a couple months.  Sometimes it seems like these people show up exactly when we need them to, to get us through a very specific phase in our lives.

Sometimes these people are our Forever People and sometimes they aren’t.

Just because a person isn’t a Forever Person doesn’t make them a “bad” person.  Sometimes relationships end not because harm has been done, rather because it is simply time for it to end.  Because one person has grown into needing something different than what the other in the relationship can give and to stay would be to keep both people stuck and stagnant.

Letting go of these people who touch us so deeply, so intensely, who forever change us, is not an easy task.  It is understandable that we want these people to stay forever.  It makes sense that we try to cling to them, that we lose our minds a bit in the trying to somehow backtrack and change course “soon enough” for the inevitable to be avoided just a bit more.

It makes sense because our attachment wounds and complex trauma run deep.  Because learning new ways of being, which includes new ways of grieving, can feel so uncomfortable and even at times overwhelming.  Because we want the stability and relative safeness of things staying the same.  Because while change is unavoidable, we humans sure do try to keep it at bay as long as possible.

All relationships have their ebbs and flows.  Their expansions and contractions.  Their beginnings and endings. Being able to move with these shifts is an act of courage and love.  It is brave and loving to do differently, to break patterns and cycles that inevitably cause harm, to allow for the autonomy of the people in the relationship and that of the relationship itself.  

What is most important, always, in all ways, is that we are able to stay true to who we are, to stay in our own integrity, to do our best to not cause harm and when we do to be accountable and do the work of repair.

Sometimes that looks like walking away or staying still while the other person walks away.  

And whoa can that hurt like hell.

A thing is, when we try to force a relationship, any relationship, to be something it can’t be, we begin to lose our Self.  We become so focused on the relationship and the other person that we lose sight of us.  We allow fear of being alone, of having to meet new people, of change, to be in charge instead of sitting in the discomfort of grief and change and allowing space and time to consider how we, ourselves want to move forward.

Staying in relationships, or trying to keep a relationship, where both people aren’t fulfilled, aren’t having their wants and needs for the relationship met and respected, ultimately causes harm to ourselves and to the other person.  It may not be intentional, and any time we to twist ourselves into someone we aren’t, anytime we comprise what is most important to us, anytime we expect the same of another person, we are causing harm.  We are not allowing for growth, expansion. We are acting from fear and not from love.

And.

When we are in the place of not having our needs or wants met in a relationship, I invite us to be curious.  Have we asked for what we want or need?  Have we communicated in a way the other person understands how important these things are for us?  Have we checked in with the other person to see if their wants and needs are also being met?  Have we heard the other person when they expressed their own wants and needs?

Have we stepped into our own vulnerability, sharing parts of our Self that feel scary to share?  Have we allowed space for the other person to do so, without our judgement or comment?

Have we made assumptions without actually confirming with the other person?  Have we set expectations that are unreachable?  Have we made demands, trying to “force” the other person to our own will?  Have they done similar?

It is true relationships ebb and flow, expand and contract, begin and end.  

And endings don’t have to mean something is over completely.  Endings can mean a new beginning, a shift, an opportunity for honest, open communication.  More intimacy, more vulnerability.  

And also, sometimes, endings do mean a thing is completely over. 

The important thing, I believe, is that we remain curious.  We remain honest, with ourselves and with the other person(s).  We ask questions and we state our needs and wants and ask if the other person can meet them.  We need to honor ourselves, recognize our wants and needs are valid, and not try to shrink ourselves in the name of not being alone.

And we need to allow space for those we are in relationship with to do the same.

/../

This essay was originally written for my weeklyish newsletter on August 2, 2020. It has been edited for publication here. To receive my most recent essays, you can subscribe here.

We will be exploring these ideas, and how to change the ways we are in our relationships with others and with ourselves in my new six month group Trauma Informed Embodiment™ for Relationship.  You can learn more about it here. 

Emotional intimacy & complex trauma

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I’ll never try to keep you,
but I’ll try to be
the kind of place
that makes you
always want to stay. 
~J. Warren Welch

I want love,
  passion, honesty,
and companionship…
  sex that drives me crazy
and conversation that
drives me sane.
~steve maraboli

love fearlessly,
for Your heart
beats brave.
~Matthew Spenser

When we live with complex trauma, entering into new relationships, be they platonic or romantic, can be activating.  We can want to dive into the depths too fast, reveal our past too quickly.  We may be impatient to allow things to unfold as they will.  We could want guarantees, promises, to know exactly what is happening.  We want a sense of control, not to be controlling, rather to calm the chaos that is living within us.  

Our systems may not have the ability to tolerate the unknown and liminal space that is required for new relationships to unfold in a ways that are beneficial for all, not rushed or pressured, slow and steady.  The slow and steady growth of a relationship may activate our anxiety, as things aren’t moving “fast enough” or we don’t actually know where they are heading.  

This makes sense given our histories.  Unknowns almost always led to harm in some way.  We learned from a very early age how to recognize patterns so we could navigate abusive and neglectful situations.  When we are early  in a relationship, patterns are being established and not yet known – this activates our stress and trauma responses.

We also may want to jump in and have our selves be “seen” and “known,” which may lead us to revealing parts of our selves or our history too early in a relationship before real trust has been established.  (This is what we call trauma bonding.)  We want to feel connected so desperately that we do whatever we know to try and “make” that happen.

One of the issues with this is we actually can’t “make” connections happen.  We cannot force intimacy.  True intimacy, emotional intimacy, is something that needs to be cultivated and nourished; it is something that grows and deepens over time with trust.

In order for emotional intimacy to grow we actually need to have good boundaries.  We need to know and defend our limits.  We need to be able to speak up when we are hurting, not in a blaming or accusatory way, rather in a way that is vulnerable.  We need to be able to be comfortable enough with the idea of rejection and endings.

This is all counter intuitive when unprocessed complex trauma is running rampant in our systems and being.  Our boundaries tend to be either overly soft or overly rigid (and sometimes depending on circumstances both).  We are afraid of communicating to another when we are hurting, and then when we do we place blame and accusations instead of showing the tender, soft, hurting side.  We are so terrified of abandonment that we do whatever we need to smooth things over and not have confrontation… which builds up over time until we finally explode or implode.

Emotional intimacy is challenging for most of us.  It means being vulnerable.  It means not having an agenda or endgame.  It means releasing expectations and assumptions.  It means putting a stop a to making demands.  It means allowing space and time for things to unfold naturally and not forcing things in the directions we think we want.  All of this goes against what the trauma living in us wants us to do.  

This goes against what our neural pathways, our brains, know and understand.

Which means, in order to get to this place of emotional intimacy, we literally need to grow new neural pathways.  We can do this in a number of ways.  Embodiment or body-centered mindfulness can be part of the path.  Taking baby steps in learning and doing different, practicing over and over.  Learning to regulate our nervous system.  Reclaiming our body as our own.  Finding ways to expand the pause between being activated and reacting to a situation.  Practicing all these things over and over and over again.

And even with all this foundation, we still need to actually communicate our wants and needs.  To share parts of ourselves, in the right time and space, that feel tender, vulnerable.  To take a breath when we are activated and to look at it and decide if old wounds are being poked at or if new ones are actually being created (or perhaps a bit of both). 

All the embodiment practices in the world won’t replace actually speaking and sharing our wants, needs, boundaries, desires, or hurts.  

The more we are able to speak, to communicate without trying to manipulate, limiting our expectations of responses, letting go of our assumptions about what the other person will or won’t do or say, the more we bolster those new neural pathways.  The more we do this, the easier it becomes.

Though I’m not sure it every becomes easy. 

Unlearning our old ways of being in relationship, and learning new ones, takes time, practice, and compassion.  There is no quick fix or easy way to do this.  It asks us to be self-aware, accountable, and vulnerable.  It asks us to let go of harmful stories of what relationship “should” look like.  It asks us to come home into our bodies, into the present moment.  It asks us to process our childhood trauma.  

It asks us to do things that were likely never modeled for us, to do things we’ve never done before and that feel foreign, strange, even wrong (even though in our logic brain knows it is right).  It asks us to go against what is known and comfortable and move into the unknown and discomfort. It asks us to be accountable for our words and actions, without shame.  

Through this process we need to remember we will mess up.  We will get it wrong at times. We will fall back on our old harmful patterns and cycles.  This is where our self-compassion can come in, where we need it to come in.

Learning to relate in new and different ways takes effort.  It takes bravery.  It takes a willingness to be wrong.  

It takes love.  Real love.  Without expectations or assumptions or demands.  Without promises or contracts.  Without cages or prisons or obligations.  

Love for others. Love for our world.  Love for our life. Love for our Self.

/../

This essay was originally written for my weekly-ish newsletter on July 26, 2020. It has been revised for publication here. To receive my most recent essays and learn about ways to work with me, you can subscribe here.

We will be exploring these ideas, and how to change the ways we are in our relationships with others and with ourselves in my new six month group Trauma Informed Embodiment™ for Relationship.  You can learn more about it here. 

You can be right or you can be in relationship

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Love rests on two pillars: surrender and autonomy. Our need for togetherness exists alongside our need for separateness. ~Esther Perel, Mating in Captivity: Reconciling the Erotic and the Domestic

You are not always right. It’s not always about being right. The best thing you can offer others is understanding. Being an active listener is about more than just listening, it is about reciprocating and being receptive to somebody else. Everybody has woes. Nobody is safe from pain. However, we all suffer in different ways. So learn to adapt to each person, know your audience and reserve yourself for people who have earned the depths of you. ~Mohadesa Najumi

Many of us who live with complex trauma from childhood have a deep need and want to be heard.  To be seen.  To be acknowledged.  To be noticed. To be understood. Many of us as children weren’t seen or heard or acknowledged.  Or worse, we were gaslit: being told our experiences weren’t “that” bad, or even worse than that, they never happened at all, that we were making it all up.

Our need for belonging, for being seen, for being heard, was not met when we were young.  Most of us learned to become silent.  But that silence was only on the surface, only the mask we wore on the outside.  Our internal experience was loud, it was screaming and howling, whether we consciously acknowledged it or not (and likely, we did not because of dissociation and our need to survive).

We were never taught how to express our emotions in a non-harmful way.  We were never taught how to have disagreements that don’t turn into screaming matches.  We didn’t learn how to listen to others, only to shut down or to argue.  Most likely as children we shut down.  So, as adults, we argue.  Loudly.  Harshly.  Cruelly. 

Our need to be seen and heard and acknowledged and accepted comes out all sideways as we grow older.  We need to be right.  We need to be understood.  But our desperate need to be seen and be right overshadows the other people we are in relationship with.  It overshadows their own needs to be seen and heard and it tramples over our empathy for this.  It actually keeps us out of relationship and getting those needs met for ourselves.

Not our fault.  We were never taught different.  

However.

We have a responsibility to stop causing harm to others, and in turn to stop causing harm to ourselves. To do the work of breaking life-long patterns and disrupting generations-old cycles. To process the trauma within us. To shift.  To do different.

This is not an easy feat.  We typically have generations of trauma and training ingrained in our bodies and being.  We have our own lived experience and those wounds and hurts.  We don’t know other ways of being, and even if we can get a glimmer of how to do something different, we have limited resources to make the internal and external shifts to make that happen. 

This is where our work is.  With our therapists, with our coaches, with ourselves.  It is the slowing down.  Learning to regulate our nervous systems, to understand boundaries, to be able to find our own center and ground.  It is coming home to our bodies and becoming more and more self aware. It is in processing the many traumas that live within us. 

It is a messy and hard road.  We will make mistakes.  We will need to be accountable for those mistakes, apologize, repair, and learn how to not make the same mistakes again.  It will be incredibly uncomfortable as we step into the unknown, as we shed the layers of our own and our ancestors traumas and woundings.  It will be terrifying as we unravel and dislodge those parts of us that aren’t really us, those parts of us that we carry around that were our parents or grandparents or great-grandparents.  It will be discombobulating as we seek out who we are and who we want to be and untangle that from all the hurt and pain.

It will not be a straight journey.  It will go in all directions. 

It is important to acknowledge the unfairness of needing to go on this journey at all.  Of needing to unravel the generations of trauma and wounding.  Of needing to process and heal our own traumas and woundings.  It is not fair.  It is not our fault.  We didn’t ask for it.

 And.

If we want to live our lives in a place of thriving instead of surviving, in a place of connection instead of isolation and dissociation, a place of joy, contentment, and or peace instead of constant pain, hurt, and suffering, we need to make the decision to enter into this work, to do this work, to create the change within ourselves so that we can begin to see the change and shifts in our outer world and in our relationships.

And we need to keep making that choice every day. To break the patterns.  To disrupt the cycles.  To come home to ourselves.  To feel good in our own skin.  To have nourishing, loving, and authentic relationships with our Self and with those around us. 

/../

This essay was originally written for my weekly(ish) newsletter on May 20, 2018. It has been revised and edited for publication here. To receive my most recent essays, you can subscribe here.