Always on the lookout, never really recovered. Love a fight, the soul hidden under masks. BRIGITTE author Judka Strittmatter always felt that she was nothing and could not do anything – until she began to defy her inner critics.
Become the woman of your life
For a long time I searched in the wrong place: The others, who should like me – my job was not that. Only the glitter in her eyes would make me a complete human; only someone who is loved by others has a right to exist. That’s what I thought. Self-love: It was hard for me to say the very word; there was a bad touch of selfishness and narcissism in it. And mother and father had not always put into my single times: “She does not find any, that’s surely only because of her!”
I am a person with a childhood wound. There was a lack of love, praise and encouragement from the parents, who themselves were underserved by it – the eternal cycle, if no one interrupts him. I stayed behind with the feeling of never being enough, never good enough and being a burden. I found comfort and security a bit in my books and with my grandmother, and often when I turned on the turntable alone at home and did some pirating on Tchaikovsky songs. The doubt – above all about myself – became the soundtrack of my life.
But there has always been a fighter in me, someone who is intense and joyful. In addition, I am an adjustment artist like all of us, wanted to please and seemed to suspect that above all the sounds and radiant attract, not the sad and the most outrageous. So, on the outside, I became one you could trust, but not that she often feels small and worthless. However, my happiness in life made me dependent on a man by my side, the proof of all others and myself, yet to be lovable.
To be unhappy I almost needed to look for …
However, I also hid my complexes here and fought the most for the men who did not want me. Clinging when one wanted to leave and the fear of loss struck. Most of all I hurt myself. There it was again, the little girl who had once begged for the love of his father. Love – that was stored in each of my fibers – you have to fight, love is not given to you. And whoever just left her for me, honestly meant to me, I could not appreciate that, and moved on. My inner antennae searched for passion and struggle, for lasting peace and constant harmony they were not set. It seemed to me to need the misfortune to search almost, because it was the condition that I knew from an early age. We humans are repeat offenders in these matters, even though we often know better – the subconscious mind has a firm grip on us.
This led to a loneliness that actually refuted my life circumstances: I was popular, I had friends. But their affection was never enough to seal the hole in my heart, could give me no protection. And the worst case was being alone with me. Then the demons were suddenly there like flying on hot summer days: you are nothing, you can not do anything, no one loves you.
After a great and passionate love, which I thought was the last true, but proved to be toxic, because we fit best the blemishes, there I was in my parts. And I had to decide how I wanted to go on after breakdown, depression and total agony. I finally wanted to be emotionally independent, I did not want to need anyone anymore, I wanted to become my own home. After all, I was a woman who accomplished a lot, who had struggled through many things.
I’m good enough the way I am!
Why were only all the others always proud of me and liked me, only me turned on incredibly stupid?
My suffering was immense, I attended a schema therapy that aims to break old patterns. My wonderful “Shrink” pointed out to me that suffering and rejection, above all, gets and attracts those who deal with themselves like the supposedly evil ones. Who does not silence his inner critic. He is poisoned with caustic thoughts concerning his inadequacy. So I needed a new soundtrack for my life.
The voice of my parents, who had become my own, she had to go. She just did not agree, she had never voted. And how I satisfy! And how I am adorable and good enough! The child of the past, who lives in all of us, had to be consoled afterwards and put on his arm. A gesture that did not know him, but which was his condition and should strengthen it. The big Judka finally had to be the loving mother she never had.
In my search for change , I also came across a book that has become a kind of bible to me: “Self-Compassion: How To Reconcile With Our Weaknesses And Become Our Best Friend” by US educational psychologist Kristin Neff. I added a course to therapy based on Neff’s theses and the auspicious title “Mindful Self-Compassion.” Over the course of eight weeks, I learned together with others how to stop and level the “no one loves me” bubbles. With little mantras and rituals like – yes, it sounds stupid – daily “I like me” slogans in the morning in front of the mirror or self-hugging. Because if no one does it right now, why not lend a hand myself? Should also make other things happy – and they are fully accepted.
It’s about being home and family for yourself, doing good things, cooking, giving yourself, caring for yourself. Not only for others, also for yourself! It’s about reassuring oneself in situations that generate anger, suffering or self-hatred that you might expect from others. And all this is not rocket science, it works mainly through repetition. Only that will play over my old soundtrack. The logic is as simple as it is captivating: if I am not good to myself, why should it be others?
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