My story starts with being and feeling disoriented when it comes to acting according to my inner voice. Somewhat banal or self-evident for many, I have great trouble to listen to my voice. Over time I have conditioned and developed a strategy of not listening to it. Like most conditioning, it starts with childhood.
We have all experienced moments in early childhood, where we could not fully express a feeling or thought yet. Especially during times our parents told us or convinced us otherwise. You don’t know exactly what the feeling represents but somewhere your inner voice strongly disagrees with what is being said. A lack of experience and a limited toolset prevent you from putting it into words or counter the claim. Hopeful, bristling with fire you could not withstand the barrage of parental confidence and seniority.
We have all experienced moments in early childhood, where we could not fully express a feeling or thought yet. Especially during times our parents told us or convinced us otherwise. You don’t know exactly what the feeling represents but somewhere your inner voice strongly disagrees with what is being said. A lack of experience and a limited toolset prevent you from putting it into words or counter the claim. Hopeful, bristling with fire you could not withstand the barrage of parental confidence and seniority.
I remember a specific instance that I announced that I wanted to become a professional tennis player. I had visualized that I would be dominating the grass and gravel courts of the world. Adored, revered by fans and competitors alike. The flamboyant version of Stefan Edberg. My announcement was met with suspicion and criticism. My father told to let go of dreaming of being a tennis player. A position attained by the lucky few, the really talented.
The sage advice was to finish high school, and eventually get an Academic degree. It was a matter of risk mitigation. Only a small sample of people can make a living in tennis. I felt helpless, overwhelmed by rational arguments. Facing a formidable, confident parental Wehrmacht. I could not counter this barrage of well crafted arguments. How was this possible? Tennis was so much fun to me. I could play for hours without tiring.
My lack of confidence just made me look down and walk away. My aspirations shattered – my ambition crushed. My dreams reduced to risk assessments, academic careers and being average. So much for a feeling, or a desire. One of many examples I experienced at home. Individually, harmless situations but the harm is in the cumulative character.
They say – Your gut feeling is right. I have heard this sage piece of advice many times and so have you. “Trust your feeling”, I hear it echo. As simple as it sounds, I have the utmost difficulty to do just so. Honestly, I don’t know what it means to listen to my feeling. Sometimes i just don’t notice the signals, or completely ignore or tune out my inner voice. In my case my intuition or gut feeling resides somewhere in the stomach area. Whenever I am in angst, under pressure or pain, I feel an uncomfortable tightening of that area. This nagging pressure, which could be conflated with a bloated stomach. A feeling prevalent when I am facing a difficult talk with another person. Or when I find myself to be the center of uncalled attention. Or when i just get the simple question; “”How are you?”. I get an uncomfortable feeling, these nerves which.When I just want to socially fit in.
My tactic is to bend to the other person’s will- to flee, dodge any form of conflict. Times when it is vital for you to show yourself, to express what you think. I do the opposite, I hide, blend, I cloak, lie or do anything to not show myself. Hell of way to violate yourself. My stomach cries for help during these moments but I ignore it. That’s when the feeling is the worst and most palatable. My innate strategy is to outthink or override the feeling. Often my feeling goes against the grain but I end being utterly conformist . That means I say what I think the other side expects to hear.
A poor long term strategy, that ends up with many broken pieces. I end up just more dazed and confused. I am so focussed on the other side, that I just don’t hear the alarm bells. Everything becomes a blur. I completely zone out my feeling. Not always but often. I just don’t know how to listen to my intuition. You could say my compass is off. Making any kind of choice is sheer agony. Not to speak of living with a choice after it has been made. It’s a struggle to this day.
Conclusion
The reason I am sharing my personal experiences is that I hope it might help or inspire you if you suffer from similar afflictions. My story is about a daily struggle between rationale (I will refrain from taxonomy or definition) and intuition. A fight against anxiety and depression. I hope how I deal or live with it helps or inspires. This is not a 3-way step to success or instant satisfaction coffee. Like most of us, progress is like a glacier.
