Living with a heart like mine is one of the greatest gifts imaginable. Living with a heart like mine is one of the greatest curses imaginable.
Being a highly empathic, highly sensitive person can be such a mixed bag. On one hand, I love so greatly it’s almost as though I can feel the smile of every human on the entire planet inside of my heart.
On the other hand, when my heart breaks…I feel quite as though I might die from the depth of its cracks. Thank goodness the pain always passes, and when it does, I can feel all over again the beautiful butterflies flying into my heart net.
There is no point to this blog post. Only to give you all my heart. Again. Because that’s what I do, and that’s what the world needs a little bit more of, I suppose.
Sorry for the nonsense blog post.
Soon I’ll write about a pirate ship adventure and true love under the silvery moon.
I’m going into this deep (possibly triggering and controversial) space, because last night I read an article about narcissistic disorder and how completely awful and horrible and unacceptable narcissists are. As I wound up the article it occurred to me that the whole thing was shaming the narcissist in question because how dare they, why wouldthey, can’t they just behave?
Something fell in my heart as I read that article. It was only at the very end that the writer dared to mention the possibility that we might feel sorry for the narcissist, and it saddened me, guys. I have to admit, it really did.
It took me back to a time in my early twenties. I was a gymnastics coach and I also worked for the holiday programs the gym ran each school holidays (which were hectic let me tell you, but satisfying all the same.) I have an affinity with kids, and I still credit that work as my most fulfilling to date. But one day there was a stand-off: a little boy, behaving badly. Very, very badly—probably hitting the other children, I really can’t remember the details.
The other coaches were bothered. I could understand that, but I could also feel that little boy, and I could feel that his bad behaviour wasn’t coming from a place of I don’t care about any of you! destruction. It was coming from a place of pain and need. So I sat with him and I gave him my heart. Within the hour we were up and playing with the rest of the children as though nothing had happened to destroy the peace in the first place.
The thing about my way of seeing the world is this. A narcissist is born off a painful past and my goodness I ache for the child that was. I ache for the adult that child went on to become, too…and so I suppose what I’m asking is: can’t we be a little more caring? To everyone, not just the people that ‘belong’ because they tick all the good behaviour boxes absolutely.
I wish our society lived more with their hearts, I honestly do. Because if we did, we’d not see the narcissist as some kind of monster that must be banished to the black hole of misbehaviour, where they cannot hurt the ‘good’ people of the world any longer. I used to be one of the people who said: how dare they. I used to be that girl.
I’m not her anymore. My heart loves everyone, even the narcissists, and it’s the narcissists of the world who need the most help to get their sinking ships back above the water. No ship ever, floated back to the surface of life whilst continually being pushed back down.
I don’t know, guys. I don’t want to upset anyone with this, I truly don’t, so if this has triggered any of you who have been seriously affected by the behaviour of a narcissist—I’m so sorry. Please know that your voice and feelings matter to me very much. It’s not my intention to belittle your pain.
It is my intention however to shed some light. We all belong, none of us any more, none of us any less. And because of this…I truly think we should help each other to rise above our demons, rather than cast stones at each other for having them. Compassion to all people just seems right to me, that’s all. How about we give each other the support and encouragement we need to heal?