Backpacks

"Put the backpacks down. They are heavy. Pick up your own backpack and let's unpack it one pocket at a time."

It has been quite a few months since I have sat down and tried getting my thoughts down or honestly able to make sense of them. I have been putting in a lot of work on Therapy Thursdays, all while trying to use the tools in everyday life making it a little easier to heal.

I have really been working on the "backpack" theory- somewhere along the way of life, a lot of us learned that helping, loving, and caring means carrying things for other people. Their moods. Their disappointments. Their unfinished business. Their expectations. Their opinions. Their problems. Their emotions. Their choices. Their perception of us. You get the picture. We pick it all up without even noticing, sling it over our shoulder next to our own bag, and just keep walking like that's normal. And along the way those backpacks get really heavy, and our own is crushed.

Here's the thing about someone else's backpack: it was packed by someone else's choices, someone else's history, someone else's growth (or refusal to grow). You didn't pack it, so you can't actually repack it, no matter how carefully you try. All you can do is get tired, and for me personally I get exhausted. I had to give myself TOUGH love. I am a fixer by nature.

I have started putting the backpacks down one by one. Putting them down doesn't mean putting the person down. I can still love someone fully and let their feelings belong to them. I can care about the outcome of someone's life without treating it as a project due on my desk. I can listen to someone's pain without leaving the conversation feeling like I personally need to fix it before I'm allowed to feel okay again (this one is so hard for me). I can care without carrying.

It has forced me to focus on my own healing. It made me pick up my own backpack and start unzipping the pockets one by one. This is slower work than putting down other people's bags. Unpacking means finally taking it all out and looking at each thing honestly. I am constantly asking questions like: Is this mine? Did I choose this, or did I just inherit it? Is it still true, or was it only ever true for the person who handed it to me? Some things you'll unpack and immediately recognize as real. Your grief. Your trauma (that's my deep pocket). Your ambition. Those are yours. They're allowed to be heavy, and you're allowed to carry them with care rather than shame, because carrying your own weight is not the same problem as carrying everyone else's.

Life was never meant to be carried this way — one person hauling everyone's weight so no one else has to feel theirs. You're allowed to walk lighter. You're allowed to love people and still set their backpack down at their own feet, where it's been waiting for them to pick it up all along.

Be Kind. Give Grace. Spread Love.

Alysia