Learning to Stand in the Sun ~

I’m back in Montana for another stretch of intensive therapy. I was able to secure my favorite Airbnb, set up my work space, including my 32” monitor; my harp is ready to be played; and the dogs are sleepy after a 17 hour drive to get here. Over the next several days, I will attend five therapy sessions, one after the other, a weekend break, with another two sessions before heading back to the Western Sierras. Each session will peel back another layer. It’s a long road. Sometimes it feels like I’ve been walking it forever; other times I just get so stuck that I do not understand, cannot articulate why I am so afraid.

This time, the work is circling around a particular roadblock: allowing myself to be celebrated. To feel happiness. To believe I’m worthy. To belong.

My therapist said something that settled deep into my chest today. She told me I’ve been discounted for a very, very, very, very, very long time. Five “very”s. She didn’t rush the words. She let them land.

And they did.

When something has been happening that long, it becomes the climate you grow in, like a tree that has spent decades in shadow, leaning toward whatever small light it can find. It learns to grow sideways. It learns to make do with less. But when the canopy finally opens and sunlight reaches the forest floor, the tree doesn’t always know how to respond. The light can feel unfamiliar. Even unsafe.

That’s where I am right now; standing in a patch of sunlight, unsure if I’m allowed to stay.

There’s a simple article from Psychology Today that talks about why it can be so hard to accept happiness or success after long periods of emotional neglect. It explains how the brain learns what is “normal,” even when that normal includes being overlooked or undervalued, and how healing means slowly retraining that expectation.

So this week, I’ll be journaling; sitting with the discomfort. Letting the light touch places that have been shaded for a very, very, very, very, very long time.

Maybe belonging isn’t something I earn.

Maybe it’s something I finally allow, but I am too afraid.

~ julie

If you feel so inclined, please reply with your thoughts.

Note: JM Lane is NOT a mental health professional, nor does she carry a license to practice medicine. Posts, blogs, and content are based on JM Lane’s personal experiences, perceptions, and reflections. By no means does any material convey what others should or should not do.