How to choose yourself

“Choose yourself”. We all heard some version of that.

But how do we do it? And what does it even mean?

Oftentimes this sort of advice comes up when we find ourselves in situations that are, to say the least, emotionally detrimental. We have burned ourselves out in relationships—whether professional or personal—and it's more than crystal clear for us, and anyone around, that it has to stop. But for some reason, we can't make it stop. We can't leave, we can't communicate better boundaries, we can't choose ourselves.

What I found out in my last 13-year journey trying to figure out how to "choose myself" is that making decisions to prioritize our physical and emotional well-being isn't a matter of choice but sight.

You can't choose what you don't see.

And unfortunately many of us struggle with seeing ourselves. Sadly, too many of us.

Sadly, too many of us are starving to find grounding in ourselves through others' eyes. I know this was my case. I also know that there was no amount of achievement, validation, and praise that was enough. Like the strongest drug, there's an emptiness that takes over you once the hit fades away, only to find yourself craving it once more.

As Gabor Maté suggests, a better question than asking “why the addiction?” is “why the pain?”.

Why we can't see ourselves

One of the key aspects for a healthy and mature development of children is having their feelings and emotions mirrored back to them.

As newborns, we don't perceive ourselves as separate from our mothers. Gradually, as we grow and develop, we come to understand the distinction between "self" and "other."

Ideally, during this process, we learn to listen to our bodies, trust our instincts, and embrace our complex emotional landscape. For these capacities to be developed, we require the support and attunement of our caregivers, who mirror our emotional world back to us.

Often, when this mirroring is absent, children receive repeated messages that their authentic (and sometimes messy) expressions are inappropriate. Their perceptions may be dismissed as "silly," and their experiences are portrayed as not matching the "real world", or the adults’ interpretation of events.

As we develop amid conflicting messages, we learn to constantly look into the eyes of others to understand what is real. When external information contradicts our perceptions and senses, we tend to trust outside sources over our own instincts. We look to others for validation of what is appropriate to feel and perceive about the world around us.

We become blinded to our “self”.

Who is your “self”?

Who are you, when you're not a label? If not a parent, a professional, a creator, a friend…

I'm not the person to dare tell you who your self is. But I'm definitely in the right position to share with you how I've been reconnecting with mine.

The self is not a ‘what’ per say but a presence of being. And as human beings, being starts with the connection we develop with our bodies and senses, which connects us to all else.

It's funny to think how many of us look for peace, connection, and transcendence through out-of-body experiences. I certainly tried many practices of the sort in the past. And what I have found is exactly the opposite: the more I'm in my body, the more peace, connection, and grounding I have found in myself and with others.

Without trusting and listening to the intelligence of our bodies, we run the risk of constantly searching for external validation. We will exert our best abilities to perform what is asked of us, with the secret hope that we will finally be told who we are—that we're good people, we're loved, we're seen.

Knowing who we are in the world is such a fundamental need. It makes us feel that we're real. That we can connect, we won't disappear. We belong. But this pursuit of ourselves through external input can come at a great cost and yield no real answers. We submit ourselves to situations of disrespect and complacency—not only from others but also from ourselves. When we can't see ourselves, we often fail to recognize harmful situations as they unfold.

How to see yourself

It took me 13 years of experimenting with all kinds of therapies, reading all kinds of books, and experiencing some really tough emotional experiences to finally—finally, thank God, oh Lord—figure out the way back to myself. To finally see myself despite what others see. To be my own compass in a world that thrives on telling you what you should look for.

Despite what some may think, 'seeing yourself' is not some kind of nirvana where you're drunk on love for yourself 24/7 and nothing ever bothers you. Seeing yourself is a deep knowing that no matter how great or how shitty you feel on a certain day, no matter what life throws at you, you've got your own back. It's an inner trust that we're able to respond appropriately to situations and care for ourselves because we're attuned to our senses and needs.

It happens that the solution for this quest is found in the same root of the problem that caused it. Now, as adults and grown people, it's our responsibility—and ours alone—to give ourselves what others couldn't when we needed it.

The process

The process requires you to mirror your emotions, feelings, and perceptions back to yourself. To know how to be back in your body, to know how to feel and stay with the full range of feelings.

For someone who has been disconnected for so long from their own needs, body, and feelings, this is way easier said than done. And the journey to it is more like a daily practice, rather than a one-off transformational moment.

One of the things that keeps us from taking steps in this direction is because we tend to be scared of feeling our feelings. If you, like me, weren't taught how to feel your emotions and regulate your nervous system as you developed, you probably has low tolerance for emotional discomfort. This makes us scared of feeling our feelings and being in our bodies. So we disconnect.

We develop mechanisms to avoid certain emotions and block our feelings because, even as adults, we may feel overwhelmed—just as we did as infants. I've mentioned before how I was unable to access emotions like anger and sadness in myself. It wasn't that these emotions weren't present; I simply didn't know how to handle them, so I suppressed them instead. For me, somatic therapy approaches proved extremely valuable in helping me progress towards reconnecting with myself.

A simple and yet powerful practice I incorporated into my day-to-day is to sit with myself for 10 minutes or so and just observe what is going on in my body. I notice if my chest is tight, if my shoulders are tense, I notice any sensations or discomfort. And then I try to explore what they are telling me. Are there any feelings around it? Any emotions wanting to be seen? At first, when I started, I used to journal this process. Now that I'm more used to it, I investigate silently on my own.

Building capacity to feel our feelings and emotions is an essential part of seeing yourself. How do we want to be in contact with our truth if we don't have the capacity to hold it?

The biggest mindset shift so far

As a result of learning how to listen to my body, I noticed some shifts in my experience and thinking. But there is one shift in particular that has helped me to expand my capacity and perception to hold space for my truth even when it differs from others.

Many aspects of life aren't simply "either-or" but "both-and." In our inner and outer worlds, multiple experiences can coexist and be equally valid. Life often presents us with complex realities where seemingly contradictory truths can simultaneously hold weight.

For example, I've learned that I can feel good and experience sadness at the same time. I can love someone and still set boundaries. Or that one person can be well-meaning and still hurt another, that I can disagree with one's specific point of view without invalidating the entire person.

This understanding of coexisting truths has been transformative. When I'm grounded in my body and in my senses, I realize that someone else's interpretation or experience of an event differing from mine doesn't invalidate my experience and perception. Similarly, my experience shouldn't invalidate others'.

Understanding that life is not black and white but multiple shades of grey freed me from the inner conflict of having to label myself and others as being "this" or "that". And it expanded my perspective to the fact that we're made of parts. When we're able to see our multiple parts and validate them all, we tend to feel more whole.

On a side note, it's such a beautiful moment when two people can come together and as they share different experiences they're able to integrate both, painting a more expanded and accurate picture of “reality".

When we see ourselves, choosing ourselves is a natural instinct

“It's a different world out there, when I know with my being to be in my heart.” - a poem I wrote that translates the full spectrum of this journey.

When we learn to see ourselves clearly, to trust our instincts and listen to our bodies, the act of "choosing ourselves" becomes less of a conscious decision and more of a natural instinct. We begin to move through life with greater awareness of what aligns with our true selves, naturally gravitating towards situations and relationships that allow us to flourish.

The path to truly seeing and choosing ourselves is a daily practice, not a one-time event. It requires us to consistently mirror and label our emotions, feelings, and perceptions back to ourselves. Through this practice we develop the capacity to feel the full range of our emotions and build a stronger connection with our authentic selves.

Seeing ourselves is about developing a deep trust in ourselves through validating our senses and perceptions. This self-trust reassures us that, regardless of the circumstances, we have our own backs.

With love,

Nat

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