Redefining Happy

Remember Fantasy Island? Da-plane!!! Da-plane!!!

Smiles everyone smiles!

Or the Sunday smiles we put on in church after screaming at our kids “we’re going to be late for church!!!”

We can’t expect to be happy all the time.

𝐎𝐟 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞 𝐰𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭…𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭’𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐰𝐞’𝐯𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭.

I love the concepts and the scientific research at HeartMath. But I kept thinking if we would work on the root issues we wouldn’t struggle so much to get back to “happy.”

I have a neighbor who has commented many times that I’m always so happy. She even made that comment to my friends. That’s her perception. What she doesn’t see is the sob fest I had moments earlier.

So is my neighbor seeing:
1) The person who was trained that when you go out into the world you put on a happy face?
2) The person who loves receiving praise for appearing to be happy?
3) The person who loves, loves, loves being outdoors and lights up from the inside out when stepping outside?

So the sob fest needs some explaining.

🔥 𝐈 𝐚𝐦 𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐥. 𝐒𝐡𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐭. 🐑 💩
As you heal from PTSD or Complex PTSD (where it wasn’t just one event but many different events) random memories come back to you. Right before I saw my neighbor that day (with a smile on my face), I had had a memory come back to me. Along with all the emotions I had suppressed for 40ish years.

So back in the day, when shopping at Reynolds in Glendive, MT (small town, eastern Montana) you would take a grease pen (I think that is what they were called) and write the price down on the item you were buying.

Anyone remember that?

One day, God only knows why, using that handy dandy pen, I decided to write the F bomb on the pole.
I got caught.

I knew, I was trained, I was taught to believe, bad people go to hell.My little girl heart, maybe age 10, knew she was going to hell.

Without a doubt.

Bad, bad, bad. It wasn’t that I did something bad, it was I was bad and I was going to hell.

Grandpa and Soda (the store owner/manager?) had a HUGE HUGE HUGE fight.

We were not allowed back in the store. At least for a bit.

Because of me.

Grandpa went on and on and on about how “his granddaughter is not bad!”

I never told my Grandpa the truth.

Terrified.

So terrified I stuffed it in and at the age of 50, after releasing a lot of old suppressed emotions, I can see that it’s sheep shit. Speaking of sheep…I’ll have to share my drawing of my sheep Star sometime! She’s a beauty 🤣 😂 🤣.

🔥 𝐆𝐚𝐲 𝐩𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐠𝐨 𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐥. 𝐒𝐡𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐭. 🐑 💩
When my dad told us three girls that he was gay, I remember thinking how awesome that was! I wanted to be gay too! I was confused. I thought he meant he was happy (I may have been about 6 years old, I don’t remember.)

I didn’t understand it was a “bad & shameful” thing.

However, I quickly realized that it’s not something you talk about. It’s something you hide.

The entire time I was growing up, I remember telling one person my dad was gay. He died when I was 17. He died from AIDS, but I was to tell people it was from complications of pneumonia.

When we were attending an Evangelical church, my son who was in 6th grade at the time, heard from a man who he admired a great deal, that gay people go to hell.

Logan realized he was gay when he was a junior in high school, told one person and then pretended he wasn’t (or denied it) until the summer before he college. He finally exploded and told me he was gay during a huge fight we had over laundry. 🧺

𝐈 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐧’𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞.

And I still made him get his laundry out of the washing machine!

At some point during college one of his mentors gave him the advice that he needed to just get married. His mentor said “it’s only for a short time and then you get to go to heaven.” Of course, you need to be honest and tell the woman because you wouldn’t want to lie.

You know, that didn’t work out so much for my dad.

Or me.

I hate the term gay people (it’s a bad habit in my language.)How about seeing a person first and not their sexual identity? AMEN!?!

𝐖𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐧’𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐲 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞.

We grieve because we’re hurting. We get sad for “no apparent reason.” Sidenote 1: there are reasons we just can’t see them.

The word vilified keeps coming to my mind. With the thought that “the heart has been vilified.”

“You’re so emotional.”

“Don’t cry like a sissy or you’re crying like a little girl!”

“Don’t be so sensitive!”

“I just want you to be happy.”

We hear over and over how we “should be feeling” versus 𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐚𝐜𝐜𝐞𝐩𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 of “this is how I’m feeling.” Where we learn how to FEEL the sensations in the body and/or learn how to handle uncomfortable or terrifying feelings within the body.

The heart feels the way the heart feels.

If we’ve stuffed “bad” emotions for 45 years (hello! raising my hand here) then of course grief, anger, rage, disappointment, etc. is all piled up within and is much harder to handle.

Just because we’re feeling one way for a moment or ten, doesn’t mean it defines who we are or that we plan to stay that way. It simply means there is something ready to move through our body or through our awareness. It doesn’t mean you have to vent, rant, explode, or stay in a depression…it means it’s time.

Time to look within and see what you need.

Maybe you need support, maybe you just need a moment…you are the only one who knows what you need. What you *really* need, not what will “make this bad feeling go away” and not what other people tell you that you need.

S𝐭𝐮𝐟𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐚𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐩𝐡𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐭𝐡.

Unprocessed emotions plug up your system, they don’t just go away.