What My Past Experiences Taught Me About Fear and Suffering

Art by @hazel.mead

I've been thinking about beginnings and endings lately. I recently moved to New York City. It was a drastic and abrupt decision for me, inspired as my life in Austin felt repetitive and dried up. From the outside, it was fine.

Fine - such an uninspiring word. It's so flat, lazy, and sterile. But that was the perfect word to describe my life in Austin at that time. My soul felt tired there. Sedated. Austin is a vibrant city - I made lifelong friends and had a fulfilling career. The problem was all me. The help I needed was all an inside job. I felt disillusioned from a series of continuous disappointments, and in a moment of bravery, I decided to jump ship.

And so here I was, on my third latte somewhere in The Village, thinking about my previous experiences.

So, what had they taught me?

One taught me heartbreak. Gut-wrenching heartbreak. The type that extends beyond physical pain, where your body grows numb, the type of pain that bursts your sense of identity all at once. But in that big bang also died my need for validation from men.

Another taught me the difference between having idiotic hope vs having faith in others while setting boundaries for myself. I learned faith in people should not be devout of common sense, and it does not mean we continue to believe in someone after our own boundaries have been compromised.

I also learned the power of a loyal tribe. When the world falls apart, I've learned to surround myself with good company and shoulders to cry on, detox from my pain and cleanse the soul.

As I went through the mind map of my past experiences, I realized each disappointment marked a loss of identity, but it was also proof I had taken a risk and tried for something. Overall, it had marked the beginning of a better version of myself.

So I thought - who would I be without my suffering? If suffering is a part of life and the end result ultimately turning us into more evolved humans, can we learn to suffer mindfully?

I believe we can. I think the first step is to feel your pain. Like feeling the burning needle while getting a tattoo, you have to sit still and get comfortable with the pain in your body. You have to feel the pain in your heart and the guilt in your soul. You have to feel the anger in the pit of your stomach. No amount of summersaults to the bar, empty declarations of girl power, and new outfits will get you through the problem.

When I went home after such escapades, my fear always showed up. And it showed up with its buddy - insecurity. Ignoring them only tightened their hold of me, so one day I built up the courage to confront them. I stopped looking at fear and anxiety like big, ugly cookie monsters. I dared to see them beyond their exterior, and for the first time, I saw lonely eyes and an uneasy familiarity.

After spending some quality time with both, my fear and insecurity became my friendly companions. I realized the path of healing involved listening to what they had to say. I needed to put down my useless distractions and show up for my feelings. I needed to show up for me. The little girl in me was screaming for attention. My hurt was drowning and I had no one to blame but myself. So I stopped the bullshit. I stopped the sham and I paid attention.

That moment marked the beginning of a relationship with myself. I began dating myself. I got to know the person I had become but had somehow missed. Now, I've learned to appreciate the peaks of my life, and not feel frightened when uncomfortable feelings inevitably show up. Fear has become a familiar sensation in my body. I notice when my chest constricts, my palms get sweaty, my heart starts beating at 100mph, and when I stop breathing.

In these moments I comfort the little girl in me and reassure her everything will be ok. In the long and arduous process of rebuilding myself, my intuition has heightened and my newfound self-confidence has become my lighthouse guiding me through difficult decisions. From the depths of my pain, a warrior was born - a woman who, despite any challenge, will always move forward. I am still afraid and doubt myself, but my grit is greater than the fear of uncertainty. My pain has given me the gift of resilience.

Einstein said we choose to believe whether we live in a malevolent or benevolent universe. I chose to believe we live in an interconnected universe where we all can thrive. Thrive - what a different word from fine. Looking back, the decision that made the difference was I didn't abandon myself. Despite my pain, lack of passion for life, and overall dissatisfaction, I didn't give up on me, and in so doing, my life didn't abandon me either. That is my simple truth. My revelation, and a state of mind I will spend the rest of my life exploring.