The Journey

I have a confession to make, and I feel like it’s time to come clean. Sometimes…I feel lonely. And it’s kind of a big deal for me to say that. But I’ve been working on admitting things to myself that I typically try to push away or avoid because I have a new understanding of why I do that.

In the past, I have not felt like it was safe for me to really be human. I could break into a long psychological profile explaining exactly why that is, but ultimately that’s unimportant. My last post sheds a bit of light on that already, so suffice to say, I have been afflicted with the belief that I must be as perfect as possible in order to be a basically worthy, acceptable human being deserving of love and respect. I grabbed onto this belief at such a young age that striving for perfection became second nature, no matter what endeavor I was undertaking–not only to earn approval, but also to ensure my physical and emotional safety. And that has been a bitch of a habit to break.

The problem with this complex is that it is inherently exclusive (among other things). So it forces you to be separate, or apart, from the rest. It means trying to be superhuman, and ultimately, better than the rest. But ironically, it comes from feeling not as good as the rest. Attempting to be the valedictorian of life is inherently lonely, and on the path that I have chosen for myself, feeling lonely feels like failure to me. So I find myself–once again–in a bit of a bind.

The truth is, I feel lonely as hell sometimes. And as I’m letting go of my need to be an A+++ student (because I’m learning that it is safe for me to do so), I’m finding it easier to acknowledge and admit to myself the truth about what I am thinking, feeling, and going through. And I think this is a really important step because you can’t fix it, heal it, or hand it over if you’re not willing to look at it. But in order to be willing to look at it, I have to realize that it is perfectly safe and acceptable for me to feel whatever I am feeling. In other words, I have to stop judging it. And something really cool happens when you stop judging yourself: You stop judging others as well.

So I began to admit to myself how lonely I feel. And at first, it stung a little bit. It did feel like failure. But I continued to acknowledge it all the same. And then something interesting happened. I started to see how normal it was. I began to recognize how lonely the people around me seem to be. They’re not wearing it on their sleeve or anything, but if you look closely, you can begin to see the telltale signs of loneliness all around you. And what’s so cool about this is that I didn’t feel so separate anymore. The more I have reflected on this, the more I have realized how much of a basic, human condition loneliness really is. From a metaphysical standpoint, we wouldn’t really be here if we didn’t experience loneliness because it’s inherent in this very universe. So who the hell am I to go around thinking I shouldn’t feel lonely? And who says it’s a failure if it can in fact be used to help me to relate to others on a really real and honest level?

Feeling lonely doesn’t feel good, but I can’t tell you how good it feels to just be human, to stop holding myself to some impossible standard. And it feels less lonely to allow myself to be lonely…just like everyone else. Because I’m starting to understand that it’s not really about the feelings that come up. It’s about what you do with them.

I think that I have mistaken loneliness for desperation in the past, when in fact, loneliness is a pretty typical state of being. Desperation comes in only when you’re trying to avoid, hide from, and cover up your loneliness. My attempts to hide from and push away the feeling of loneliness definitely felt desperate to me. Stopping the resistance and looking at it honestly has led to some cool discoveries which have actually shifted my feelings about loneliness. And at the end of the day, isn’t that what it’s all about?

Ironically, I was doomed to remain lonely for as long as I refused to acknowledge and accept my loneliness. Only now can I actually connect with others on a level of truth that allows me to really share in the human experience. The cure was hidden in the illness all along. Huzzah! I believe I’ve earned myself a doughnut.

In the lonely hearts club,
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