{"id":379530,"date":"2013-08-20T18:06:00","date_gmt":"2013-08-20T18:06:00","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/staging.annahelizabeth.com\/index.php\/2013\/08\/20\/on-validation-and-the-value-of-self-worth\/"},"modified":"2013-08-20T18:06:00","modified_gmt":"2013-08-20T18:06:00","slug":"on-validation-and-the-value-of-self-worth","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/staging.annahelizabeth.com\/index.php\/2013\/08\/20\/on-validation-and-the-value-of-self-worth\/","title":{"rendered":"On Validation and the Value of Self Worth"},"content":{"rendered":"
\n
<\/a><\/div>\n
As I sat in my therapist\u2019s office last week, a small truth began to unfold before my eyes.<\/o:p><\/span><\/div>\n

<\/p>\n

\u201cI guess I\u2019ve just always been looking for validation,\u201d I said.<\/o:p><\/span><\/div>\n

<\/p>\n

Learning.<\/o:p><\/span><\/div>\n

<\/p>\n

Growing.<\/o:p><\/span><\/div>\n

<\/p>\n

Understanding, Journeyers.<\/o:p><\/span><\/div>\n

<\/p>\n

That\u2019s half the battle.<\/o:p><\/span><\/div>\n

<\/p>\n

As those words tumbled from my mouth, I remembered a conversation with my first successful therapist.<\/o:p><\/span><\/div>\n

<\/p>\n

I say \u201cfirst successful\u201d because my parents did take me to a shrink when I was somewhere between the age of seventeen and eighteen.<\/o:p><\/span><\/div>\n

<\/p>\n

Not only did I think I knew everything, I was born at the end of an era where people just didn\u2019t talk about their problems.<\/o:p><\/span><\/div>\n

<\/p>\n

It was a conundrum of epic proportions.<\/o:p><\/span><\/div>\n

<\/p>\n

And then, at thirty-two years of age, I realized that I couldn\u2019t do it alone, that I needed an expert to help me figure out why I felt so tortured.<\/o:p><\/span><\/div>\n

<\/p>\n

I consider finding Hank one of the brilliant strokes of luck in my life<\/span><\/a>.<\/o:p><\/span><\/div>\n

<\/p>\n

It was several years before I got up the courage to tell him about my shoplifting habit.<\/o:p><\/span><\/div>\n

<\/p>\n

Though I loathed the behavior, I couldn\u2019t bring myself to admit it to anyone until the day I involved my children.<\/o:p><\/span><\/div>\n

<\/p>\n

I must have been about five or six the first time I ever lifted something from a store.<\/o:p><\/span><\/div>\n

<\/p>\n

It was a roll of Lifesaver candy.<\/o:p><\/span><\/div>\n

<\/p>\n

I stuffed it into one of my dresser drawers and kept running back for another treat.<\/o:p><\/span><\/div>\n

<\/p>\n

My visiting grandmother figured it out and returned me to the grocery and made me tell the cashier what I\u2019d done.<\/o:p><\/span><\/div>\n

<\/p>\n

I don\u2019t recall being overly traumatized by the situation as I made restitution and that was the end of it.<\/o:p><\/span><\/div>\n

<\/p>\n

But by the time I had children of my own, I would find myself holding my breath and praying I wouldn\u2019t get caught.<\/o:p><\/span><\/div>\n

<\/p>\n

It was never anything I needed, quite often it wasn\u2019t even something I wanted, and was never anything that I couldn\u2019t afford.<\/o:p><\/span><\/div>\n

<\/p>\n

On occasion it might be a CD or a shirt, but most often it was something like a can of tuna fish or a shaker of salt.<\/o:p><\/span><\/div>\n

<\/p>\n

The day I dragged my kids into it, we were at a Toys R Us, where I picked up a pack of batteries that would have been placed in a drawer filled with every conceivable power source size known to Man or Mattel.<\/o:p><\/span><\/div>\n

<\/p>\n

Big Guy, who had just begun to toddle on his own, had a habit of putting stuff into my oversized coat pockets.<\/o:p><\/span><\/div>\n

<\/p>\n

That\u2019s where I ended up hiding those double A\u2019s.<\/o:p><\/span><\/div>\n

<\/p>\n

As we were about to exit through those sliding doors, I felt like someone was watching me and I pretended to discover the batteries.<\/o:p><\/span><\/div>\n

<\/p>\n

And then, to my absolute horror, I made some comment to my young boy about not putting things into mommy\u2019s pockets.<\/o:p><\/span><\/div>\n

<\/p>\n

Beauty knew better and kind of questioned me, to which I responded with a dismissal.<\/o:p><\/span><\/div>\n

<\/p>\n

But I was sick about it, Journeyers.<\/o:p><\/span><\/div>\n

<\/p>\n

Absolutely queasy and disgusted and full of shame and guilt and fear and scared out of my mind that I might possibly be the worst person on the planet, and the most miserable mother that ever existed.<\/o:p><\/span><\/div>\n

<\/p>\n

Hank took my admission in stride. No big surprise, right?<\/o:p><\/span><\/div>\n

<\/p>\n

He asked me questions like, \u201cHow do you feel when you\u2019re stealing something\u2026During? Before? After? Is it premeditated? Do you get an adrenalin rush?\u201d<\/o:p><\/span><\/div>\n

<\/p>\n

\u201cI feel sick and scared. No, it\u2019s not planned. Each time I feel utter relief that I didn\u2019t get caught and then I feel shame for days and days.\u201d<\/o:p><\/span><\/div>\n

<\/p>\n

\u201cSometimes there are disorders that need to be addressed,\u201d he said, \u201cbut sometimes people act this way because it\u2019s a way of validating how they feel on the inside.\u201d<\/o:p><\/span><\/div>\n

<\/p>\n

I felt the weight of the world lift from my shoulders, Journeyers.<\/o:p><\/span><\/div>\n

<\/p>\n

You mean there\u2019s nothing wrong with me other than the fact that I\u2019m trying to convince myself that I\u2019m a bad person?<\/span><\/i><\/o:p><\/span><\/div>\n

Where\u2019s that damned Easy button been all my life?<\/span><\/p>\n

<\/div>\n
<\/a><\/div>\n
One of the (many) issues we\u2019d been working on was enabling me to see that I needed to treat myself with the same respect and kindnesses and courtesies I gave to others.<\/o:p><\/span><\/div>\n

<\/p>\n

To understand that I wasn\u2019t somehow broken when I entered this world, that I wasn\u2019t being punished for some indescribable wrong.<\/o:p><\/span><\/div>\n

<\/p>\n

That my life\u2014the one where I made good grades in school and people always pointed to my generosity and my value as a competent and caring and talented human being\u2014wasn\u2019t some big fat fib.<\/o:p><\/span><\/div>\n

<\/p>\n

\u201cMy whole life has been a lie. I\u2019ve been pretending to be this strong, capable, self-assured person,\u201d I once said to my therapist.<\/o:p><\/span><\/div>\n

<\/p>\n

He replied\u2014I heard him enough to later write it down\u2014\u201cPeople just can\u2019t fake that stuff, Annah. Not even you.\u201d<\/o:p><\/span><\/div>\n

<\/p>\n

I was set free of the desire to intentionally do things that made me feel bad about myself the day I shared my shoplifting habit with Hank.<\/o:p><\/span><\/div>\n

<\/p>\n

That part of me simply vanished from my life, or shall I say, from my future. I dropped that baggage and left it sitting in the middle of the fork in my yellow brick road.<\/o:p><\/span><\/div>\n

<\/p>\n

But as I talked with Trish last week, the dawning awareness that I\u2019m still looking for others to support my feelings of self worth became evident.<\/o:p><\/span><\/div>\n

<\/p>\n

This time, instead of looking for ways to prove my worthlessness, I\u2019ve been seeking confirmation of my worthiness.<\/o:p><\/span><\/div>\n

<\/p>\n

Unfortunately, I have spent twenty-plus years in the closest company of those whose actions contradicted what I believed in my heart to be right, and so some of my insecurity came from frequently being in a position of finding ways to substantiate the validity of my thinking and beliefs.<\/o:p><\/span><\/div>\n

<\/p>\n

That said, I do recognize that that was only a small part of it.<\/o:p><\/span><\/div>\n

<\/p>\n

My body\u2019s way of responding to Warren\u2019s last affair was to return to those previous thought patterns that were both unproductive and self-incriminating.<\/o:p><\/span><\/div>\n

<\/p>\n

It\u2019s a little frustrating and defeating when we think we\u2019ve mastered something, and then discover that we\u2019ve reverted to our old ways.<\/o:p><\/span><\/div>\n

<\/p>\n

Those are the times we need to be kind to ourselves, Journeyers, and not break out those big old hammers we use to beat ourselves up with.<\/o:p><\/span><\/div>\n

<\/p>\n

Melody Beattie, in her book The New Codependency<\/i> says, \u201cAlthough I\u2019ve changed significantly since writing Codependent No More<\/i>, I still step in codependent puddles.\u201d<\/o:p><\/span><\/div>\n

<\/p>\n

It only stands to reason that our coping mechanisms and behaviors become ingrained in us after years and years of practicing them.<\/o:p><\/span><\/div>\n

<\/p>\n

Choosing to make a change means we must not only work to develop new strategies and habits, we must be vigilant in carrying them out over and over until they become rote, thus replacing those traits that actually are counterproductive to our physical and emotional well being.<\/o:p><\/span><\/div>\n

<\/p>\n

That\u2019s awareness, Journeyers, simple attentiveness.<\/o:p><\/span><\/div>\n

<\/p>\n

And honestly, if that knowledge is good enough for someone as credentialed as Melody Beattie, then relapse is allowable for me, too.<\/o:p><\/span><\/div>\n

<\/p>\n

As Fave was packing the last items into the trunk of his car, he said this, \u201cI\u2019m hoping to make it back home for fall break this year, Mom. I\u2019ll let you know my schedule so you can set up that family counseling you asked about. I\u2019m okay with doing that, but I think that for me and Sis, just being able to talk about what happened and get our feelings out was really important.\u201d<\/o:p><\/span><\/div>\n

<\/p>\n

That\u2019s the kind of validation we need to trust in, Journeyers, confirmation that we are loved, in spite of our mistakes, and that our efforts are paying off.<\/o:p><\/span><\/div>\n

<\/p>\n

My children felt safe enough not only to tell me how they felt, but to point out one of my greatest gaffes.<\/o:p><\/span><\/div>\n

<\/p>\n

They felt<\/span><\/i> safe enough<\/i>, Journeyers, which means that my mistakes were offset by positive performance.<\/o:p><\/span><\/div>\n

<\/p>\n

I might have stepped back into those ninety-eight-point-six degrees pools of self-doubt and self-loathing and insecurity, those places that were once as comfortable as my body temperature, but I don\u2019t have to stay there, Friends, none of us do.<\/o:p><\/span><\/div>\n

<\/p>\n

One word, one thought, one story, one magical friend at a time, I\u2019m healing, Journeyers, learning and growing and finding a sense of peace with myself and with those things outside of me that I have no control over\u2026<\/span>
<\/span>
Hugs and healing, my magical friends…<\/o:p><\/span><\/div>\n

<\/p>\n

Soon\u2026<\/span><\/span><\/a><\/o:p><\/span><\/div>\n

<\/p>\n

<\/o:p><\/span><\/div>\n

<\/p>\n

\ufeff<\/div>\n<\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

As I sat in my therapist\u2019s office last week, a small truth began to unfold before my eyes. \u201cI guess I\u2019ve just always been looking for validation,\u201d I said. Learning. Growing. Understanding, Journeyers. That\u2019s half the battle. As those words tumbled from my mouth, I remembered a conversation with my first successful therapist. I say […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":3924,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_et_pb_use_builder":"","_et_pb_old_content":"","_et_gb_content_width":"","_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[705,686,54,323,63,1135,115,1136,1137,69,538,1138],"class_list":["post-379530","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-uncategorized","tag-emotional-growth","tag-emotional-health","tag-loss-and-healing","tag-motherhood","tag-parenting","tag-self-acceptance","tag-self-awarenesss","tag-self-worth","tag-shoplifting","tag-the-five-facets","tag-therapy","tag-validation"],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"https:\/\/staging.annahelizabeth.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2013\/08\/Mark-Twain-Quote-on-Self-Approval.jpg","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/staging.annahelizabeth.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/379530","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/staging.annahelizabeth.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/staging.annahelizabeth.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/staging.annahelizabeth.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/staging.annahelizabeth.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=379530"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/staging.annahelizabeth.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/379530\/revisions"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/staging.annahelizabeth.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/3924"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/staging.annahelizabeth.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=379530"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/staging.annahelizabeth.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=379530"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/staging.annahelizabeth.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=379530"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}