Why It’s Ok To Go Slow

“And I will only go as fast as the slowest part of me feels safe to go.”

In her song, Gentle With Myself, the lovely Karen Drucker sings “And I will only go as fast as the slowest part of me feels safe to go.” I put this song as first on the list of my healing songs because recovering from relational trauma so often is a slow-paced journey, especially at first.

In my own case, it took me three months to leave after discovering what I was dealing with. I was scared to leave the house we co-owned for fear of what he would do. I actually had a separate area I could live in, so I thought it would be ok. But it was nerve-wracking to be in the same house and not know what he might be up to. My system could not rest, but I didn’t fully realize this until I rented a friend’s studio for a week and felt like I saw glimmers of myself again. I knew then I had to leave.

I found a small house to lease and somehow scraped together enough wherewithal to both pay the mortgage and the rent. It was a huge relief to be in four walls that did not include him in any way and I started to rebuild my life as best I could.

But for a year I could only do that–focus on my life and me. I knew at some point I needed to figure out how to get him out of the house we co-owned, but how to do so was a) overwhelming and b) terrifying. Anything to do with him was terrifying. The slowest part of me could only manage work and friends and cats and healing. It could NOT handle the nastiness of removing a parasite who did not want to go.

I was hanging on to a promise (which at some level I knew was BS) that he would resolve things in March of 2020. But we all know what happened then, and he used the pandemic to dig in further, saying he could not leave and that I clearly “wanted to kill him by exposing him to Covid.” But I was getting stronger at that point, and the slowest part of me finally said “Yeah, we can do this.”

As I’ve mentioned elsewhere, this is when I got a tough lawyer and actually got him out. I want to mention though, that I barely had enough stability to do this, even after having almost no contact with him whatsoever for over a year. It took everything I had.

I share all of this by way of saying that your process is your process, and it can go as slow or fast as works for you. Often for targets of relational trauma, we need some peace and ease to get the stress we’ve accumulated in our systems to a more manageable level. I think of it as a snow globe settling. It’s very hard to see what to do when we are all shaken up. But after some time of healing, things often settle enough that we can deal with them.

I want to also mention that there may be reasons (such as kids, employment, or safety) that make it untenable to go as slow as you might ideally want to. My best advice if you can’t go as slow as your system wants to is to surround yourself with as much support as possible. Putting someone or something in between you and the abusive person is often incredibly helpful. For example, there are communication apps you can use to coordinate things to do with minor children. Or you may be able to work through your company’s HR department in the case of a workplace issue. Often though, this takes some chutzpah and insistence on your part because people may not understand why having any connection with the toxic person is detrimental to your health and well-being.

The other thing that can help when you can’t go as slow as you want to is to do what you can to support your nervous system. Things like massage, acupuncture, and even simply naps can help you settle your snow globe so that you have more energy to deal with what needs to be done.

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In the process of healing and need some support? Contact Ann for one-to-one coaching.

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Want to learn how to work with relational trauma as a coach? Join our next Certification Program for Neuroscience, Coaching and Relational Trauma starting January 2023.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Ann Betz is the co-founder of BEabove Leadership and an expert on the intersection of neuroscience, coaching, trauma and human transformation. She speaks, trains and coaches internationally, and writes about neuroscience and coaching as well as relational trauma. Ann is also a published poet who loves cats, rain in the desert, and healthy relationships. She has learned to honor and protect the slowest part of her.