Learning to Love the Parts of Ourselves We've Left Behind

The other day  I was invited to attend a networking lunch at the Union League Club in Chicago.,

I almost didn’t go, for a number of reasons, including the cost, the fact it was right in the middle of the day, it’s winter in Chicago and the commute would take a big chunk away from my core working hours, and then there were my own various resistances to large networking events.

The Club was a place I was intimately familiar with from my days as a lawyer, policy advocate and influencer. Back then, a big part of my job was hosting and attending large events for  influencers.

In the end, I decided to go.  And I’m glad I did. Not because of the event itself  but because of the discovery I made along the way.

I had one of those rare experiences when you find yourself revisiting a place you haven’t been to for a while, only this time you’re returning as a much different person.  In this instance, the discovery came while I was literally retracing the physical steps I had taken for over a decade when I commuted daily to my various jobs as an attorney. 

It feels like most of my significant moments of transition and self- discovery in my life are usually preceded or accompanied by some type of movement. This makes sense, because studies have been done that show physical movement can help facilitate cognitive development and learning.   This also explains why hiking in nature and other forms of exercise can be incredibly conducive to facilitating spiritual and personal growth.

As I got off the train and began the 15-minute brisk walk, it was startling how fully present I felt as I walked through the train station  and later the landmark buildings.  There was a subtle yet powerful awareness that who I was today taking these same steps was vastly different than who I had been a decade ago.

Instead of feeling a rush of blurring faces and a drone of noise and lights I was in awe of the beauty of the stone, marble and concrete structures.   Such a contrast to how I felt a decade ago.

A decade ago, I was also a mom to two young boys, working full time, commuting daily into the city, and on the verge of making one of the most difficult decisions in my life, whether to leave my marriage. By the end of each day, I was literally running to catch the train, in order to rush home to pick up the kids, make dinner and prepare for the next day to do it all again.   

I also made my living as a lawyer and advocate and influencer.  I was paid to fight, to be tenacious, to ask difficult questions and to be confrontational in service of the truth.  Yet, there was always a part of me that had a conflicted relationship with this “warrior” energy.   When it was in service of finding the “truth”, it was one of the best feelings in the world. However, when I was acting from a foundation of needing to prove or validate my own worth to others, that’s when I was treading on uneven ground.  That’s when I became vulnerable, and uncertain and the truth could become subverted in service of my own need for validation.

Proving my worth to others, was such a core part of who I was 24-7, it’s why I was good at my job.    It’s also why at times I would literally collapse into sickness from exhaustion, because I didn’t know how to turn the switch off.  There was always this sense of being propelled forward by the need to do, to provide for others, to achieve, to accomplish, to give. Because if I wasn’t “doing”, then I felt lost and adrift from myself. It’s also why making a decision whether to leave my marriage was so crushingly difficult  because I didn’t know who I would be without the role of a partner to define me, to validate me.

The epiphany that came to me several  hours later as I was retracing my familiar route back to the train through the Loop of a decade ago, was the understanding that what was different was that the need to prove myself no longer defined me. It has taken me the better part of the last decade, but the familiar weight that use to accompany me everywhere on my shoulders, as I walked, had lifted.   It’s why I felt a spring in my step, and a lightness in my spirit as I went through the doors of the club, whereas I use to previously feel I had to “perform”, now I could just be. There was no need to prove anything.

This ability to welcome back into beingness, the fragmented pieces of ourselves, the parts that we cast aside or labeled or judged as problematic or difficult is one of the greatest steps we can take toward truly honoring and loving ourselves. It feels like just about the best Valentine’s Day gift I could give myself.

What part of yourself are you ready to make peace with, to welcome back into the fold. I’d love to hear from you in the comments below or email me Laurel@LaurelOSullivanCoaching.com