I have never considered myself materialistic.
I like nice things, but having energetic young boys taught me quickly that nice things don’t last. I wasn’t willing to place the importance of things over my children and pretty soon nice things become like all other things… scratched, dented, broken, sliced or burnt.
For this reason, buying nice things never gave me the feeling of satisfaction I thought it would. It was always a little bit better than before, but never as great as I thought it would be.
Helping people was always the opposite.
I would always help because I knew it was a good thing to do, but sometimes I would help begrudgingly. It surprised me to realize that helping someone else left me feeling better than I expected it to.
I read a book of John Assarafs over 10 years ago, and he suggested an exercise that distilled down the things that gave me the greatest pleasure. Every single one of them involved helping someone else.
So I started helping more.
I got so wound up and focused on helping others that I began to self sacrifice in order to do so.
If my life was a mess, I ignored it to help others.
If someone was struggling and I thought I could help, I told them I was doing great so we could just focus on them.
My strong facade became a survival mechanism, because it took the focus off of me, and it was something I thought “strong” people do. Don’t complain, don’t show weakness, never be vulnerable, and just help others.
All of the memes about “strong women cry at night and smile in the morning”, or “strong women smile when they are dying inside” could have been written by me.
I can see now that theory was begging for unhealthy relationships to evolve because I wasn’t giving myself an equal role.
I’ve slowly learned that the best way of helping someone is not to try to fix them but to support them on their journey, to share what you see or what you’ve learned, and then let them know they aren’t the only ones struggling.
When you are “strong”, you aren’t helping the other person. The other person feels alone, isolated, and somewhat like a charity case.
The idea of sharing your struggle is not to dump your emotional baggage, blame or complain about others, but to share your heart space. Which means to share what’s happening and how it’s affecting you personally.
Sharing heart space builds connection, and connection only happens when you’re on a level playing field.
“You’re not alone, I’m struggling too”. The most powerful and healing thing you can say to someone else.
Other people see themselves in our stories when what we are sharing is coming from our heart. It is surprising to realize how the story of your struggle, which might seem completely unrelated, will give someone else perspective of their life.
I created my own disconnection and isolation by trying to appear strong.
Inner strength is someone else’s perception of us, it is not something we should be striving for.
Connection, belonging, and love is what we need. You receive that by giving it away.