Empaths gravitate towards hope. That’s why people like to be around us. But what about hope for ourselves? What about that?
We are often so wrapped up with other people’s needs, wants, emotions, burdens, and desires, that we lose track of our own. And it’s dangerous to lose track of your own. When we have forgotten ourselves, we don’t grow and we don’t heal.
So why do we do that? Give all our healing energy away to others? Give all our compassion to others? I think it’s easier. Much easier to feel someone else’s wounds than our own. It’s an odd empath avoidance tactic. I’ll feel their wounds so that I don’t have to feel mine. The problem is that yours won’t go away.
Empaths often hover on this emotional bridge halfway between the walking wounded and the walking healed. And it is wearying to keep standing on that bridge swaying between two directions. Here’s the thing – I’m deciding I don’t want to be the walking wounded any more. I want to be the walking healed. Whole. Not fractured. Feeling. Not cut off. Fearless. Not hiding. I don’t want to be the terrified little girl cowering beside the toilet anymore. My back is tired of being bowed. My knees are tired of crouching down. My arm is tired of hiding my face. My scales have tipped.
To be whole, you have to have hope for yourself. To be whole, you have to face the truth of your past and your present. And this kind of clarity is hard and sometimes scary, and it often comes at a tipping point. When we can’t not do it anymore, then we face it. And I know that empaths are so brave for others. We need to be brave for ourselves. To do what it takes to stitch up that wound. (We know that scar tissue is stronger than skin. We will be stronger too.)
I’m finding a way. Or like what usually happens to me, the way is finding me. And I’ve been invited to get off that bridge by a guide to help me do it. We can learn to reclaim hope for ourselves. It won’t be easy, but it will be worth it. And YOU are so worth it. Take it from me. I know. I’m an empath.