Safety is a Lie

You may have read my recent blog about letting go of my canine BFF, Shannon. She was in the category Big Black Barky Dog and she was fierce in her protection of me. Anyone outside my door was intimidated by what they thought they heard on the other side...sort of 1/2 guard dog and 1/2 ravening beast. Now that she's gone, I sometimes feel just a bit more vulnerable to the random crazy that lives in the world.

Last night I found myself sharing with a dear friend about another kind of safety:  the safety to be myself in relationships. I heard myself say that feeling safe to be myself is all about whether I can Trust others' authenticity and humanity. As we talked, I recognized that I invest you--every one of you--with the powerful role of Editor of my Expression. In response to your actual or perceived capacity and openness, I limit how much I let you in, but also how much of myself I let "out."

Of course, I do the actual editing. Nobody can stop my self-expression without my permission and acquiescence. No, I edit myself down for you--without you even asking--and my first lie is that I do it to protect you. It hasn't been a conscious lie; it seems reasonable enough, given my history. I learned early in life that I can't trust others to "stand up" in the face of my power; I have been told I am "too much" for people:  too loud, too fast, too intense, too smart...just entirely too much to take! Right behind this lie that I edit myself to protect others, came the truth. I heard myself speaking these words to my friend, "And...if I live full-hearted and fully-open, expressing my completely amazing self, others will take advantage of me; I will be hurt."

Wow. Now there is a limiting belief of heroic proportions! I don't need to have any other beliefs that limit my life choices; this one covers the territory. "If I am truly and fully me, I get hurt." This single arrow in my quiver of self-deception impales me through my heart, lodging solidly in the mass of the past, and pins me there. Silenced. And Safe.

Except I'm not safe. I've finally recognized this big flaw in the secret contract I've been executing with others:  it doesn't work. Safety is a lie. I'm not safe from others' willingness to hurt me, even when I try to avoid these outcomes by pretzel-ing myself around their expectations, or my perceptions of their ability to cope with the dazzling light that I really am.

Here's the deal I've been offering:  I will dial back the dimmer switch on me; I will keep you in the dark...or at least the twilight. I won't say what I really think, or share my true feelings, so that you don't have to feel whatever feelings you have about them...oh, 
and I won't have to hear about those feelings. I will believe that who I am is something you can't handle, and I will actually protect us both from finding out whether that's true. I will simply rein in the parts of me that I judge you "can't handle." You won't have to feel attacked or intimidated by my anger, or helpless to relieve my fear, or overwhelmed by my grief, or short-tempered with my self-pity, or burdened by my meltdown, or.... Yeah, I'll just keep my emotional undies all tucked up inside, for our mutual convenience and comfort. No problem. This way, we're both safe.

Except I'm not safe. And neither are you.

What I've just realized is that part 2 of my secret agreement goes: Oh--and by the way--no return promise or coin of any kind required. You don't even have to show me basic human kindness. You can poison my other relationships with trash-talk behind my back, you can treat me with disrespect, you can bully me to my face...whatever. I will just be quiet. Maybe, I'll just go away. Yes, that would be best. I'll just clear the field and leave it to you.

Yet, you're not safe, either, from your feelings of defensiveness or intimidation, helplessness, temper, burden, or overwhelm, because those feelings are not about me, anyway. You will have
these feelings regardless of how I behave. If not by me, they will be invoked by others in your life.
More and more, I see that our feelings should always be honored as more about ourselves and our histories than about whomever stands in front of us.

So, whom does this secret self-editing agreement help exactly? Not you, really. I do you a double-disservice, first by depriving you of the rich fullness of my Divine gifts, which come wrapped in a package of gorgeously extravagant human foibles. Then I also deprive you of the self-educational opportunity of your full emotional response to all of who I truly am. Maybe you need to have your experiences of fear, helplessness, and anger; maybe your uncomfortable feelings about me are just what you need for your evolution in this life. Who am I to take that from you?

Certainly, editing my full expression of who I am doesn't help me in any way, beyond a temporary and, frankly, deluded sense of safety. Of course, I'm not suggesting I remove all filters and act out of my basest, most primitive instincts and trauma wounds, either. Holding onto my values for kindness and generosity of spirit in my treatment of you, I can simply start treating the Divine wholeness of my self with the same kindness and generosity.

Suddenly, I also begin to see this holding back, this self-editing, as a form of disrespect, not only to myself and the others in my life, but to the One who creates us all. What is that Marianne Williamson quote...? "You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world."

I echo Dr. Maya Angelou with this commitment:  Now that I know better, I'll do better. Will you help me? Will you haul your emotional self up by your suspenders and stand strong? Will you remember  that you, too, are a child of God, and that you can "take" all of who I am, without falling down, giving in or up, or backing off from connection to me?

I'd be so grateful.