F*cking angry…

I made my new personal trainer swear today. Or rather, I didn’t make her swear – but she says she always finds herself swearing when she’s with me.

She says she thinks it’s f*cking unfair that I’ve ended up with Fibro, although she wasn’t sure why she was swearing about it.

I said that perhaps she was expressing the anger I wasn’t letting myself feel. I seem to be drawn to fellow empaths these days. And I’m grateful for the mirror that gets held up – you can’t hide your feelings from an empath – they express it for you.

So apparently I was angry. F*cking angry.

I know I’m not the only one who is afraid of it – of anger. My own. Other peoples’.

So in a healing later today, I invited it up. Along with all the feelings and labels it brings up in me.

Shame. Badness. Smallness. Selfishness.

And – beneath all that, suddenly, with the same surprise factor that you’d get if a giant whale suddenly surfaced beneath a small sailing boat that you happened to be on – came a terrible fear of being left alone. Of being abandoned and rejected.

That if I’m angry I’ll be left all alone.

And then I cried. Deep sobs.

It’s not anger I’ve been afraid of. It’s the loneliness that I am afraid will follow it.

We are taught to control our anger. And as women in particular, I think, to be afraid of it. It’s not Nice.

But today, I want to celebrate my anger as the powerful force for change and clear voice of personal truth that it is.

I saw my anger – and, beyond it, a light at the end of the tunnel that is Fibro for me. I am learning to embrace my shadow – and I am discovering that it is powerful light. And so much more beautiful than I ever knew.

strangeoldlife

Sarah Nabarro View All →

New mum, old soul... Finding beauty, wisdom, spirituality, and opportunities for learning in the everyday (hopefully)...

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