A Note On: Power
It’s New Year’s Eve. I’m on a beautiful property on the California coast with the man of my dreams and a small group of friends for a mellow night of camping and fireside chats. The next day, I’ll do yoga in the morning and then go to an empty beach (save for a family of elephant seals) to make love and run naked into the ocean to cold-plunge away all that’s left of 2021. It’s quiet and simple and earthy and all of the things that are so quintessentially me.
But I’m totally gone.
I fight to stay awake until midnight not because I’m tired, but because I feel so down on myself that I’m anxious about having nothing interesting to say. As soon as I wake up on New Year’s Day, my first thought is when I’ll be able to get away and hide. I miss breakfast with the group and watching the boys surf so that I can be alone (I end up doing yoga which is a wonderful thing and was necessary in clearing my head space, but it was still an act of running away.), and then get irritated when my boyfriend is gone for “too long”. Later at the beach, I catch my mind wandering to insecurities surrounding my body when there is literally no one to see me but someone who loves me and a bunch of sleeping giants, the coldness of the water only momentarily snapping me out of my twisted senses. I’m so in my head that I’m unable to be fully present in the most perfect of moments.
The week prior was tough. It felt like nothing was going in my favor. I was having issues at work, conflicts out of left field, and stress over an impending move. I was alone for Christmas, living out of a suitcase, bouncing between homes that weren’t my own, and completely out of my healthy routine leaving me feeling disconnected and unsettled. By the end of the week, I was beaten down. I felt lost, undeserving, unseen, like a victim and a failure. I slipped back into self-destructive coping mechanisms, which only made matters worse as I mentally attacked myself with guilt and shame and wrecked my body physically. I couldn’t go an hour without crying for no apparent reason. My anxiety was so bad I couldn’t see straight. The day I left for the coast, I spent the 4 hour drive up trying to coach myself out of the funk, but it clearly hadn’t been very effective.
The problem wasn’t that my power was being taken away, it was that I was giving it away. I let myself shrink into smallness because, at a certain point, it was easier than standing up tall. Rather than doing the things I know make me feel good: time in nature, moving my body, prioritizing nutrition, connecting with loved ones, I did the exact opposite. I gave up and sank in and let my power pour out of me. My body may have been on the coast, but my spirit got left behind.
This is all to say, shit is going to be hard. People are going to be assholes. You’re going to make mistakes. But your worth and your power are yours to nurture and hold. If you can remove yourself from situations that keep you small, do it. If that isn’t possible, you can make a conscious effort to step into your power wherever and whenever possible in other areas of your life. The bigger shifts will come in time. For now, take the steps you can today to get back to your worthy, whole, powerful self.
Here is a quick journal prompt to help you step back into your power:
What is currently making you feel powerless? Small to large, list off all of the things that are testing your self-worth.
When is the last time you felt powerful? Describe it in detail: where were you, who were you with, what did it look/taste/smell/feel like?
What are 3-5 action steps you can take today to step back into your power? (Emphasis on today - this exercise is to get you back into your power in the present moment, so that you can move forward from a strong, grounded, and positive place)