In the past I've used my emotional skills instinctively; aiming blindly at whatever jumped in front of me. Now that I'm learning to use them with intention, I can see the cost along with the power.

I was feeling jammed up the other morning. It was a beautiful day outside, but I'd spent the morning inside. Hiding from my bad mood by playing video games. Also sulking about the fact that no one'd noticed I was in a bad mood and tried to make me feel better.

I'd had an intensely emotional week, one that required a lot of self-regulation. I'd also spent a lot of energy jumping from my work to the emotional needs of people around me, and then back into my work. So I was feeling sorry for myself and pouting.

When I overdo the good girl routine, a resentful, angry child comes along for the ride. I'd spent the week selflessly giving to everyone around me, not because I'm trying to earn my love, but because I'm just that loving. And I'm doing so well and being so good, which part of me really, really loves. But I’ve realized that part of me comes with its shadow, which is, I turn into a martyr who must silently suffer while she tends the wounds of the world. 

So of course I don't even try to get my emotional needs met. When I'm in that head space, it feels really selfish to try talking to somebody about how I'm doing. Then it becomes a negative feedback loop. Because if I give up on being a martyr, it feels like I'm giving up the source of my power. The force that lets me perform emotionally at the level that I do.

I'm trying not to brag, but I'm good at this emotion shit now. I really am. I actually know what the fuck I'm doing. And I think, subconsciously, sometimes I want to show off. By giving too much. Showing everyone around me how good I can make them feel. How understanding I can be. Of course it was a family dynamic that gave me that combination of being competitive about how selfless I can be. 

Oh, families, I love them so much.

So I stepped outside. Because I didn't want to feel that way. I wanted to feel better but was stubbornly refusing to make myself feel better. Or to let anyone else do it either. Finally, I'd had enough and said fuck it, I'm gonna try getting stoned. Giving myself pleasure might be the first step of getting down off the cross I'd nailed myself to. Outside it was sunny, and I felt my bare feet on the ground. Felt much of the tension I was holding leave my body. Connected to something bigger than myself I felt safe to let go.

bare feet standing on grass
Touching Grass is Not a Metaphor for Tonic

With the sun on my face, I became activated again. Like stepping out of the fog I was in. I wasn't just feeling better. I was feeling gratitude. Grateful that I'm now strong enough to use the power I've struggled with my whole life.

So often, our individual family/life circumstances give us our own trauma-induced superpowers. We live in such a radioactive world. We develop capabilities. Strengths that allow us to live within this system. Powers like hyper-vigilance, empathy for those that hurt us, or the ability to turn off our emotions when they become too painful.

We need to develop them to keep our hearts intact in an environment that lacks love and community. To feel good enough about the world to keep trying. To even continue living sometimes. We have to preserve our will to live by building up these weird defense patterns. Defenses that worked well in the environments that built them. They help us escape situations that were particularly toxic and find healthier ecosystems. 

Then we escape and discover that we possess superpowers, yet struggle to use them in the new ecosystem. Like the mutant teenagers before Professor X. As a child, I knew I was strong. I could feel I had this force inside me. Something that wanted so badly to lead, to love. I could see the people around me walking right into the same emotional pain over and over again, like they were blind to it. I wanted to guide them to safety so badly. So I learned how to use love to do that. How to make people feel loved by me. If they felt loved they would trust me, listen to me.

a drawing of a woman in a white cape and corset, holding a cocktail
Drawing of Tonic as DC's White Witch by Uko Smith

But I didn't know how to use those tools except in the system that created them. So I also learned to be manipulative, to over-give. To be a martyr so I could claim with pride the part of me that had to die in order for my family to live. And eventually, I learned how badly I could hurt people with my strength. 

Now that I've learned how to navigate emotions in a healthier way, I can actually see the superpower more clearly. I'm starting to figure out how to help people guide themselves instead of needing to be led by me, because I don't know where they need to go. I only know where I need to go. 

That emotional strength and the ability to focus on others to the exclusion of myself is what's powering me when I work with my clients. That's not all I do, but it’s the foundation of everything that follows. I'm open, emotionally attuned, and treating the human sitting in front of me like they are the center of my emotional world. Because for the length of our session, they are. I'm holding them with unconditional positive regard and treating them with love. 

When you can do that, it changes something in people. Finding another human being capable of giving you that is hard. Many of us can't comprehend what that feels like, because we've never really gotten it ourselves. It's so powerful that it's easy for me to suck people in if I want to. And in the past, I've hurt some of those people. I used that power on them because I was lonely, or because I needed to feel big. And the terrible thing is, I couldn't even tell I was doing it at the time.

But I'm finally learning to use it without hurting people. But hurting myself is another thing. And it’s easy to go overboard when you've got a powerful new toy that you're having fun playing with. That's what I had to admit when I finally got out of my pouting and looked around my back yard. I'd been giving more than I had the energy to give because it felt so good to be strong. I have to own up to that part so I can actually be strong, not just look strong to the people I'm helping.

Despite these painful lessons, I'm grateful. I bless the Goddess for my talent. For giving me this opportunity to share her love in the world in a real and visceral way. I'm learning how to express what I mean when I say that I love you.  

Because I just love ALL of this so goddamn much. I do. I love life. I love the surreal, bizarre experience of being alive. I love humans. We're so weird and creative. And we're all trying so hard, and just all want love so much. It's sad. But it's also amazing. And it's all of it. Life. This is what art is for. To express the inexpressible, art and spirit. All of the things that are real, but can't be measured or quantified, and are therefore invisible to the system we all live in. So I'm trying to make that visible. So that's my mission statement. Goddess Tonic's sermon for the day. Go forth and know that you are loved, even when you can't make your superpower work without hurting you or someone you love.

All right, loves. Thank you for listening to me and thank you for helping me remember why I do this shit in the first place. I love you.

XOXOX

Tonic