Sometimes my progress feels so slow and miniscule, I try to periodically take a backward glance to remind myself of the me that started the journey; generally I see so much change that I barely relate to that girl-woman.
One of the big things I see in her was her great reactivity. I lived almost entirely by programmed responses; one giant button-covered being for whom every word and action pushed a button that triggered a preset reaction. Even when I expressed feelings they were mainly based on what I thought I was supposed to feel in a given situation. My disconnect then was so huge that I now struggle to figure out what if anything of that woman’s tastes and desires actually belong to me.
As I’ve stripped away the many layers of armor (from having every single muscle wound up like a steel rod to emotional blocks, etc.) I’ve lost the sense of being programmed to respond or having no choice of response but I’m also not always sure who is left.
I’m kind of okay with it but I think most of us fear that kind of change at the same time we’re seeking it. I’m very pleased in hindsight with the many ways in which I have become new, but if someone had given me a preview of the journey 20 years ago, I don’t know if I’d have kept going.