Seen. Safe. Soothed.

Toward the beginning of my healing, one of my sessions revolved around needing to find sanity. I had felt crazy for so long I couldn't grasp what sanity was. My therapist pointed out that sanity is vague and different for each person. So I had to dig deeper and find more specifics. What we came up with was my need to feel seen, to feel safe, and to feel soothed. These were all things I had never genuinely felt from another person, let alone gave to myself.

My idea of being seen was how much attention could I get. How much chaos did I have to cause for people to see me. If I caused enough outwardly hurt and anguish, would people see how much pain I was in? I wanted desperately for my pain to be seen, and to be able to be vulnerable, but I had no clue how to do that in a healthy manner. I didn't want to be seen for my body or poor behavior, but for a long time that's all that I knew. I usually felt invisible.

Feeling safe was not a luxury I had experienced either. I had moments over the years but it never lasted. I lived in constant fear. Who was going to hurt me next? Would I survive the night? I was constantly looking over my shoulder. Even when I was physically safe, mentally, I didn't feel safe; from others or myself. For too long people that were supposed to protect me couldn't. Part of my life it was people I should have been able to trust that were hurting me, or not believing my hurt.

My reality of being soothed was the numbing from a bottle of alcohol. A person soothing me physically or with their words seemed to always have strings attached. When it was genuine I didn't know how to accept it. I needed to feel comforted- to feel I wasn't undeserving. My wounds were gaping and I needed something to soothe the pain- something that would last.

Aside from pin-pointing these three necessities, this session was also important because I learned the formula for compassion. My therapist had been trying to get me to show myself compassion but I couldn't figure out how. This session framed it differently though. When you show someone compassion what do you do? You make sure they feel seen. You give your undivided attention, and show them that they are important. You do what you can to make them feel safe, and feel like what they tell you is safe: confidential. You try to comfort them, and let them know it's okay. You soothe their worries of feeling different, wrong, or crazy.

I could show others compassion, in fact, I was good at it. Previously, I never had a definition of compassion that was solid and simple. Compassion for others equals making them feel seen, safe, and soothed. Simple. Self-compassion is not as easy, but it’s still simple. With work I was able to look at my inner-self with compassion. I had to treat that inner-self as a separate entity for a while to let her be seen, and to build boundaries to keep her safe. When I was upset, I had to talk to myself with kindness to soothe that inner-child. After a while they blended together, and although I am my harshest critic, I try to show myself the same compassion I show others.

Everyone wants to feel seen, safe, and soothed- it's human nature. When trauma messaging takes over, those things are hard to find. That's when it's imperative to have people to show you the way and make you feel seen, safe, and soothed until you can point your own compassion in the right direction. Thankfully that was prominently shown to me at Footnotes.

-JJ

"Compassion for others equals making them feel seen, safe, and soothed…

I try to show myself the same compassion I show others.” -JJ