A Flaw in my Weaving

Thankfully, to a flaw in my weaving, the thread snapped, and my loom came to a halt. All fell silent. I took a deep breath before turning to look at the fabric I had woven.

There was anxiety in my quiet voice. What did I weave into the fabric of my life?

This wasn’t the pattern I had in mind. I saw threads of the fabric that I imagined would allow my life to flow freely, struggling to peek through the cracks, tangles, and knots that loomed in my world.

I did not let my tears of frustration blur my vision. I picked up the gentle threads, realigned them, and continued to weave with direction, purpose, and meaning. I integrated colours and textures representing my thoughts, feelings, and experience. Wow! It turned out to be a powerful design on my fabric of self.

There was a time in my life when noise and people took over my world and often left me suffocated. I didn’t know how to communicate with my inner self or advocate for my needs, so I turned outward and looked for them in the needs of others.

They stemmed from a sense of lack rather than abundance, and it became a habitual way of interacting with others.

I had this emotional need to please people at the expense of my own needs and desires because I feared criticism, rejection, guilt, and disappointment. Being recognized and appreciated were powerful emotions for me, so my motivation and focus were primarily on meeting the needs of others. It was because my self-worth and happiness were dependent on external validation. That was a boost of confidence for me and made me feel like the “go-to” person.

I was externally driven, and I subconsciously became a “people-pleaser.” Being a “people-pleaser” is not a negative trait and is often misunderstood.

Don’t shoot daggers or pass judgment!

My “people-pleasing” personality was fueled by my innate personality traits that were overlooked. Being friendly by nature, a great listener, sociable, approachable, adaptable, and good at resolving conflicts helped me wear a mask to hide my true feelings.

Talking, interacting, listening, and being around others when they needed me gave me opportunities to learn new perspectives and behaviours that helped me understand myself.

This went on for a while until the stress of trying to please everyone exhausted me physically and mentally. I was only concerned with what others thought and expected of me, and I lost sight of myself.

I could no longer hide. I didn’t have the time or energy to make any more commitments. But my feelings of guilt and anxiety were overpowering, and the smouldering embers within me would threaten to go aflame. I would fight it and wallow in self-pity, which boosted my energy and validated the pain and struggles I had to endure to avoid bursting the bubble.

How much longer can I keep this up? Why couldn’t the others see through my anguished eyes?

I started suppressing my rage and frustration, which led to passive-aggressive behaviour. It was difficult for me to unwind and relax because of the constant stress.

I realized I had less time to do the things I wanted to do and was desperate to break the cycle of ‘people-pleasing’ and start making changes.

There was a person inside me who aspired to be the person I am, but I allowed my mind to tell me who I should be. I didn’t have to give up my endearing personality traits, but I did need to start setting boundaries.

I spent time alone to unlearn everything unhealthy, understand my deepest feelings, and listen to myself. I put my own needs first and would only reach out if I could make a difference in the lives of people who needed it.

Pursuing “what can be rather than what is” inspires and excites me as a Social Worker, but it can be mentally and physically challenging. It is a dynamic helping profession with the potential to make a difference, but I must also be aware of my own need for balance. I only take on projects where I know I can make a difference and bring about positive change. I’ve stopped volunteering and raising my hand for everything that comes my way, and I also avoid projects where I know there are others who can pitch in.

I don’t let my passion and compassion become part of my weakness and I will not want to end up a victim.

I often hear people tell me, “You’ve changed.” Yes, for the first time in my life, I’m speaking up for something. Some are happy for me, while others are not as much.

What has been the most rewarding aspect of this transition?

Hmm, I can now tell a lot about a person by what they choose to see in me.