When opportunity knocks... or as we say in California, when the Universe says, "Yes!" Have you ever gotten exactly what you wished for and then, moments later, felt your stomach tighten, your heart race, your mind screaming the admonishment, "What have I done?!"
Why is it sometimes more comfortable wanting something than actually manifesting it? Recently, I worked with a couple who very much wanted to take a cruise. They had two children, a mortgage, and jobs that didn’t allow for a lot of luxuries. But they saved their pennies and then spotted a great deal on the exact cruise they had been longing to take. Without hesitation, they reserved their room. Minutes after doing so, they looked at each other in horror. The "what if’s" flooded in. "What if one of us gets seasick--or all of us? What if the kids are bored? What if the weather isn’t good and we have to stay inside our tiny room? What if the house needs an emergency repair and we can’t pay for it because we spent it all on the cruise? What did we just do?!"
This reaction to "pulling the trigger" is referred to by realtors and auto sales people as "buyers’ remorse." It is characterized by a sudden emotional shift from elation to panic to regret, usually accompanied by the thought, "I’m a fool." Why do we go through this kind of torture at a time when we could be enjoying ourselves?
One possibility, of course, is that we really could be making an unwise decision. But this certainly isn’t the only reason for beating ourselves up moments after getting what we have worked for or longed for. The other possibility is that we don’t really believe we deserve the cruise, the job, the car, the house--the relationship.
Two nights before my wedding twenty years ago, I had a sudden meltdown. My soon-to-be husband was baffled as I sat on the couch and cried, wondering if maybe I didn’t really want to marry him. But, confused as he was, he realized that something else was at work when I blubbered, "If you knew who I really was, you wouldn’t want to marry me."
What had bubbled up to the surface of my consciousness was the belief that I didn’t deserve him, that I was "damaged goods," a "broken cookie," the sum total of a somewhat sordid sexual past that included being molested and then behaving promiscuously. When I read in the newspaper last year about the "Runaway Bride," I thought, "That could have been me twenty years ago." (Of course, I don’t know her story, but you get my point.)
My almost-husband, in the face of my "unworthiness," consoled me with words that were sweet and kind, reminding me that he knew my history and that he didn’t define me by my past. I had to either take in what he was saying or be right about being unworthy and then call off the wedding. Well, the outcome is obvious but the lesson remains with me to this day.
Whenever I wish for something now, I ask myself if I have any lingering doubts about my worthiness. If I do, I try to work on this before booking the vacation, sending my latest manuscript to my agent, or pitching my great idea for a TV show to network executives. What I notice is that the issue of worthiness doesn’t necessarily have a price tag. Even small pleasures like a manicure can bring up the issue of worthiness.
So the next time you find yourself sucking in your breath after doing something loving, challenging, exciting, or healing for yourself, ask yourself if you are doubting your worthiness. If so, back yourself up from the edge of this cliff by practicing affirmations and rejecting limiting beliefs. Remind yourself that you are not a product of others’ judgments of you or simply the sum total of your past mistakes. You, like me, are worthy of self-care, compassion, and companionship.
By Jane Straus for Divine Caroline. Republished with permission.
