I grew up with a lot of pressure to be A-okay at all times, as my parents always penalized being emotional or upset about anything at all. No negative moods ever, no anger, no being tired or worn out. I spent most of my life thinking this was a normal way to try to be, although as most know, it’s a recipe for some serious internal pressure buildup!

It led to some severe anxiety problems now in my late twenties, being out in the world and trying to handle the normal stresses of life. I became agoraphobic, had trouble eating, anxious/panicky, depressed, the usual fun bundle. I hadn’t yet made the connection that I had bad ideas instilled in childhood and couldn’t figure out why I was having such a hard time, and felt quite hopeless and frustrated.

One particularly agitating thing for me, for whatever reason, was sitting down in group formal dining situations. Eating in front of people, being “trapped” by societal conventions because it’s rude to leave at will, feeling the pressure to be charming company, all just really whacked me out and I would generally have panic attacks (to an observer it would just look like I zoned out hardcore, I didn’t really tell anyone what was going on).

My really wonderful and supportive boyfriend knew a bit about what I struggled with, although I hadn’t yet felt comfortable sharing with him the entire extent of “how messed up I was” (the instilled shame held me back, I was certain there would be a penalty of some kind if he knew). He did know that I didn’t really like sit-down dinners, and they made me feel very nervous and ill at ease. I’m a stubborn person however, and felt I could just tough out anything despite my distress (<— bad lesson!)

So I accepted his invitation to come to dinner at his parents’ house with some of their family friends, most of whom I had met before and liked. A low-pressure group of people, but of course it’s the dreaded “dinner table” scene!

He spent the entire meal quietly checking in with me, asking how I was feeling, and when I admitted I was feeling really really anxious, he quietly said the thing that to me, even though it’s so simple, kicked off a big shift in my thinking: “If you’re feeling anxious, you should go to my room and lay down, and take a break for a bit. The people here will totally understand, if they ask I’ll just tell them you weren’t feeling well”

That simple acknowledgement that my comfort in the situation was important, and that it was okay to break “politeness” rules to go take care of myself and my own needs, and that I wouldn’t be in trouble for it, was a massive moment of relief. A small epiphany that planted the little seed that eventually grew into me exploring my feelings deeper and discovering the old family habits I’d been living by that were causing me so much distress.

I’m happy to say that about two years later after a lot of hard work, a lot more ‘bold’ acts of self-management and care, and a lot more deep and loving conversations, my anxiety has been dramatically reduced, and I’ve really been feeling free and safe out in the world and in the relationships with the people I care about.

All because I was finally told that it was okay to not be okay for a moment!