If there is one thing this pregnancy has taught me, it’s about permission.
And if there’s one thing I advise highly sensitive clients to try over and over again, it’s to give themselves more permission.
So I’m getting a dose of my own medicine. The good kind, I mean.
My experience of pregnancy is one of even greater heightened sensitivity. I simply feel more open. Spiritually speaking, that makes sense to me – it’s a time when I’ve allowed another consciousness to share space within my body. As a grounded intuitive (not a medium), this is something I usually work very carefully to avoid. But pregnancy is that experience.
And while being more open might scare the pants off of many of you, for me it’s been an awesome experience into the surrender of what is and what I need. But I’m seeing that the only way I’m really able to accept what is and what I need is through the permission that pregnancy grants.
See, when you’re pregnant, you’re expected to rest more. You’re expected to be emotional, to break down sometimes. You’re expected to be hungry, and grouchy, and sappy and uncomfortable. It’s not seen as weak if you’re pregnant and you choose to go and take a nap. It’s not seen as out of control if you eat more one day than the last. It’s not seen as strange if you cry more easily. These things are seen as part and parcel of being pregnant, because heightened sensitivity is something that most people understand about pregnancy. None of these are strange. Because of all the permission.
What I’ve noticed for myself is that others tend to give me more permission than I give myself. My husband, my midwives, my doula, my friends and even my clients are all so understanding and offer so much permission. I feel tired, but instead of surrendering to a nap, I first see all the work I need to do. I see that I haven’t exercised that day. I see that groceries haven’t been bought and we have no food plan for the week. And so I soldier on and go for a power walk and head to the store and try to squeeze a new blog post into the mix.
And, invariably, I crash the next day – I feel like a walking zombie, I must take a nap (it’s not an option anymore), or I develop a migraine.
The whole time, everyone around me was granting me permission. Permission to take it easy, to give myself a break, to honor where I’m at rather than where I think I should be.
And so I realized that although I do a pretty good job with personal permission, there’s a big part of me that’s uncomfortable with so much freedom. When I take it, I hear voices in my head making up what my husband might say, or what my parents would say, or what another small business owner would say. Which makes it difficult.
At the same time, growing this life inside of me has shifted my priorities. It’s made me more inclined to listen to the permission, to take it, to grant it to myself, to slow things down and try a different way.
So I’m granting myself even more freedom and more permission to be sensitive. To sleep when I’m tired, to work when I’m energized, to cry when I’m sad, to stand up for myself when someone crosses my boundaries. My son’s only environment is my body, including how it feels and what it’s going through – which is a huge incentive to hold my ground when it comes to what I need.
And, if you think about it, your only environment is your body, including how it feels and what it’s going through. So the question is – is your environment a cage, or do you have freedom?
I want to live in a world where it’s always this easy to stand up for what I need. Where my body can always be a place of freedom, love and permission. A sanctuary.
That’s part of the reason I started Sensitivity Uncensored. To create a place where we could hold space for others and for their needs. A space where we can be the unabashed version of ourselves, whether that’s snarky or subdued, energized or exhausted, confident or overwhelmed. A place where whatever is for us is okay. A space where permission to be with what is is granted.
A personal goal I have moving forward is to keep this level of permission with me. To hold it, to honor it, to recognize it as the beautiful lesson it is so that I can move forward with more permission, more space, more freedom, more uncensored sensitivity.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll go and take a nap.