Part 2 of 4

It’s difficult to describe how I felt inside my mind and body before I made the changes that allowed me to establish my own identity.

My outward appearance and personality was entirely constructed by reactivity to criticism, fear, and shame. My nervous system was deep in survival mode. I existed to the world as a hard outer shell. There was a tiny part of the real me fighting for life somewhere in the middle of my chest. It was never allowed to be seen or heard. I didn’t ever think about it or realize that others didn’t feel the same way. I must have assumed everyone else was also hiding their true selves. There were people out there just being who they are and enjoying themselves, with relatively stable childhoods, caretakers, and emotional regulation skills. I was conditioned to think negatively about them, and everyone and everything else, constantly.

I didn’t know I was thinking negatively about people. I just knew that the most beautiful, confident, talented people I had ever met were responsible for taking care of me and telling me what to think, and I happily complied. It was easy to believe everything they said. I was smart, and eager to show it, repeat it, and belong to it.

In retrospect, the cognitive dissonance that developed between my authentic values and my efforts to maintain their damaged perspectives was incredibly complicated and literally warped my brain. But as a child, it was a bandwagon that offered approval, or the possibility of a meal or gift, or a brief respite from the constant criticism and humiliation that was usually focused on me instead.