Allowing Myself To Be Seen Again

I actually had a different post prepped to post today. In fact, it was a two-part post full of “Ask the Blogger/Owner” type questions, that will probably be posted over the next couple of weeks. But then this week, I’ve noticed something - for some reason, over the past couple of days, I started becoming acutely aware of how often I try to shrink myself (figuratively, not a body statement), become “invisible”, remove attention from myself, without even realizing I’m doing it.

To clarify, this is not the first time I've noticed that I have trouble making eye contact or that I don’t love being up in front of people (exception: teaching a class). But pieces started fitting together. It’s not simply that I get anxious being in front of people. Or that I struggle drastically to make eye contact even with people I know reasonably well. It’s not only that I routinely ask permission or seek approval from others for the most trivial things that absolutely do not require it. Or that I continually walk with my shoulders hunched over, often with my head down. I always assumed the latter was the classic “sitting at a computer/over a phone all day” thing, and it’s true that part of it may just be poor posture, but that’s not all of it. I’m hiding, or trying. I’m working, without realizing or necessarily intending, to become as small as I can, as unnoticed as I can. It occurred to me that I don’t walk nearly as hunched over on my own, but if I notice someone walking my way, my head goes down and I look at my feet. And then there’s the compliments and praise, and the fact that it feels nearly impossible for me to accept them. Or at least to believe them. If you’ve ever tried to compliment me or give me praise (this feels like a weird word but I can’t think of another), you’ve assuredly been met with either my downplaying it, deflecting it, or most likely, a super awkward response. If we’re in person, it probably involves me avoiding eye contact and fidgeting or some nervous habit like playing with my hair. And yet for some reason, I never connected the dots on all of these. I treated each as an individual habit, instead of realizing that basically, each of these serves the same purpose - they all shrink me, making me as unobtrusive, as unnoticeable, as least ‘bothersome’ as possible. 

Physically, I’m making myself smaller and less noticeable by not looking at people, not feeling deserving of them looking at me, curling in my head and body like a turtle going into its shell. When I’m asking for permission or seeking approval, I’m basically saying that I’m not worthy enough of making my own decisions, I need to totally rely on someone else (this is definitely a codependency habit I’ve held onto from the past). Compliments and praise are difficult because they naturally mean that someone noticed me, and that means I’ve not fully become invisible. To be clear, criticism also means people have noticed me, so this isn’t an invitation for that. Trust me, I’m more of a critic of myself than you’ll ever be, so there’s no need. 

The thing is, I wasn’t always this way. Growing up and all the way through college, I was a competitive gymnast that constantly was up in front of others, in a leotard no less. (I didn’t love being judged, but I didn’t try to hide). I was a soloist in chorus all through middle school. I was the lead in my school play in elementary school. And while I realize that these might all seem like small deals, my point is, I wasn’t someone that always tried to become basically invisible. Not by any means. But somewhere along the way, I don’t know exactly when though I’m guessing it wasn’t one specific point in time but rather a slow process, I got the idea that it’s better if I wasn’t noticed. That I didn’t deserve to be noticed. That if people noticed anything positive about me, they must be wrong. I somehow convinced myself that I wasn’t worth believing in, and that it was best if even I didn’t believe in or trust myself. That it was best if I flew under the radar and was as little “trouble” to everyone as possible. 

Ironically, the only place I’ve ever felt comfortable is teaching classes. In my first job out of college I taught strength training and abs classes, step class (remember those!) and cycle classes, the latter which I continued to teach even after that job. More recently, I’ve been teaching barre and yoga and combo classes. And whether it’s in person or virtual, at a studio or a workplace or private session or any other teaching scenario, I’ve always felt comfortable. Even my very first yoga class that I taught to pass YTT - the minute I began teaching, I calmed down. It’s like I turn into a different person when teaching - one that doesn’t try to shrink or become invisible or mind being seen or needs permission to know what to do. I don’t know why this is. But I do know that I want to feel like this person more of the time. 

This isn’t going to be some “so I’m just going to decide to go for it and I’m going to transform my life” type of post. That’s not how life works in general, and that’s definitely not how life works for someone living with a mood cycling disorder, anxiety, social anxiety, in disordered eating recovery, with a history of trauma, and chronic low-self esteem/worth/confidence. But what I am doing is being present and noticing. I’m tuning in more to how I carry myself and my eye contact, where previously I didn’t even realize what I was doing until afterward. I’m noticing when I go to ask for permission or seek approval on trivial things, and checking in with myself - is this really something that requires approval or permission? If not, why am I asking it? Do I already actually know the answer or action to take?. I’m (working on) pausing when I am given a compliment or praise, so that hopefully instead of just brushing it off, denying it, or deflecting it in some super awkward manner, and I can instead maybe accept it and be grateful (this is also way more fair to the compliment/praise giver). I’m trying to tap into that piece of me that comes out when I’m on the mat teaching - that part of myself that can be in a situation in which I would normally try to disappear, but instead,to step into it, feel it, and move with it and through it. It’s going to be a process. It took me probably 10 plus years to get to this place, little by little, so while it hopefully doesn’t take me 10 years to get out of it, it’s not going to happen overnight. I don’t love that, but I need to be OK with it. Life, like yoga, is a process. And like that hip opener or back bend that you have a love-not love relationship with, it’s not always going to be comfortable. But it’s in that uncomfortable that the growth takes place.