I’m 22, it’s 2013, on a Monday at 6:30 am Pacific Standard Time. My roommate opens my bedroom door to make sure I’m awake for our 7 am Soul Cycle class. The only class I can go to with my 9 am - 11 pm tech job.
“Haley?” I say, wide eyed, body tense under the covers, “I think I’m dying.”
“What?” She rushes towards me.
I place a hand on my chest and grasp her arm as tight as I can, “My heart…it’s beating so fast. My chest… it’s so tight…I can’t breathe,” soft tears start to form in the corner of my eyes, “I’m having a heart attack, Haley!”
“You’re having an anxiety attack, Chloë. Soul Cycle will help.” It did, but only temporarily.
From that moment forward I became an anxious girlie. I had pains in my chest that fluctuated from a stabbing, to a tightness, to a strangling, to a burning, every day, unless I numbed them.
So who is the anxious girlie, you ask?
She comes in all colors, shapes, and sizes, but she will most likely be an extremely hard worker and a recovering people pleaser who is terrified of failure.
She’s failed before. She might have even been publicly shamed for failing at a young age, or just shamed for being her. Shame is a sure path towards the anxious girlie life, especially if she came out of the womb with a sensitive soul.
She has a flair for the drama, she of course doesn’t mean to fall into absurd plotlines, (she didn’t mean to faint at her brother’s wedding during the vows because she subconsciously didn’t think it would end well), it just happens.
She’s not great at saying no. She might find herself giving a man in Times Square dressed as a monk $20, because he grabbed her left hand, put a wooden beaded bracelet on it and told her it would bring world peace.
She is adept at imagining the worst and is well versed in spontaneous tears. Tears on the bathroom floor when the door won’t open and she believes she will be confined forever, tears in the middle of the night after she awakes from a dream where she just watched her loved ones get murdered, tears while squeezing a flight attendant’s leg during a turbulent descent, because she believes she is plummeting to her death.
She likes to be in control. Control of the lighting, the food, the itinerary, how things are done. She hasn’t figured out that the only way to be in control is to release it altogether.
Most, but not all anxious girlies have some physical manifestation of their anxiety. Pain in their chest, stomach, shoulders, lower back, or hips. Some throw up, some faint, some get really sweaty.
But all anxious girlies can’t stay in fight or flight forever. They eventually either numb it —nicotine, Lexapro, weed, alcohol, mindless phone scrolling, exercise, meditation — or move through it and ultimately shed the identity altogether.
I numbed my chest pains for a long time, to the point where I didn’t even think of myself as an anxious girlie. But when my life began to fall apart and the urge to numb myself grew more intense, I knew that the only way out was through. I believed that if I could truly move through my chest pains, I would succeed, which for me means being in a state of joy as often as possible, moving through darkness as quickly as possible, and with the most insights as possible. I’m tired of negative circumstances and judgmental people having such a profound effect on me, I’m tired of feeling the need to listen to all the people telling me to be more practical when I just want to be mystical.
As I’ve worked to understand my anxious girlie identity in an effort to shed it, I’ve realized it’s not about shedding it at all, it’s about listening to and nourishing all the Chloë’s, all the voices, all the identities, all the needs, that I’ve silenced in order to succeed under a definition of success I never actually resonated with. And as I do that, it’s easier to then shed the things, habits, and thought patterns that no longer serve me and that were never really mine. And the more I let go, the more space I have to catch grace when it rains down.
Once I told the universe that I wouldn’t numb my chest pains anymore, once it watched me sit in pain for weeks without reaching for a vice, other than long walks and journaling, things began to open up. I didn’t go a day without a synchronicity or a mystical experience. People, new habits, and things meant to help me on this path began to show up without much effort.
I realized I didn’t know what “being myself” actually meant, so I tried to not act like “myself” every chance I got — use my right hand instead of my left, go to a yoga class at 12 pm on a Thursday (something I’ve never done in my life), drink tea instead of coffee, say yes to the things I used to say no to and no to the things I once said yes to.
I stopped referring to the sensations and feelings in my body as anxiety and either chose to be more specific (grief) or not name it at all.
In the morning I don’t touch a screen, look at a spreadsheet, Figma, or an email, until I go inward or let sunlight hit my face. Sometimes I take a morning walk (and make sure to look all around), sometimes I journal, and sometimes I do breathwork until I see geometric shapes. I get insights on what decisions to make or how to carry out my day, and give space for it to be unusual and even mystical.
I drink a minimum of 5 hydro flasks a day, move slower, stand up straighter, try not to lean too far forward (my potential) or too far back (my past), and instead stay right in the middle where I can find joy and see all my options.
I’m not all the way through it, I don’t know how long it will take to be, and that’s okay. I still get chest pains, but they’re further apart and I’m usually able to quickly tune in, have an insight, and know what boundary to put up, what to let go of, or what decision to make. My life may still fall apart, but I now know that I won't. And that's mystical.
Have a story on how being an anxious girlie has played out in your life or tips on how you’ve shed your anxious girlie identity?
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All. The. Snapssssss. 💛🙏
Chloë, I've had a snippet of this post saved in the Notes on my phone and I read it occasionally when I need some motivation/ inspiration. Sending a very belated and sincere thank you for sharing so clearly and openly. Keep sharing! It's moving so many more people that you may realize :)