Protect your peace, but don't be a peacekeeper

I used to take pride in being “the glue of the family.”

In answering every call immediately. To treat everything with the same amount of urgency, no matter the importance. It didn’t matter whether it was important to me - the fact that it was important to them made it important. It felt important to be the fixer.

When you grow up in a house of explosive arguments, bitter words and passive-aggressiveness, keeping the peace is a very useful survival mechanism.

When you join the family business in the chaotic, male and often ego-driven world of construction, even more so.

It caused me to be in a constant state of reaction. Phone rings, someone complaining, okay, fix the problem. Repeat.

It conditioned me to hate the sound of my phone - every text, every call.

I was angry all the time and I didn’t know why. I had such a short fuse. Everything set me off.

One comment could turn into a day-long battle in my head.

It wasn't until later that I recognized it as anxiety.

Anxiety about not doing enough, being enough.

And when you're around dudes all day on a construction site, anger and aggression seems like the only valid expression without seeming weak.

All that pressure had to go somewhere. And the only safe place seemed to be the soft, welcome hug of weed. The silent, unjudging warmth of whiskey in a glass. The reliable mirth and energy in lines of white powder. I didn’t have to ask anyone for help this way. I could carry on.

The inability to rest, the constant feeling of being on edge, the shortness of breath - all that just seemed to be part and parcel for speed and “efficiency.”

Somewhere between going to a yoga class “just to stretch” and have something to do other than drink every night, something shifted. Somehow being forced to slow down for an hour finally made me feel a little bit safer. I got less angry. Things got a little bit clearer.

I will forever be grateful to the teachers I encountered at my home studio. The way they spoke of how to be kinder to yourself. It felt like I was given permission. To not be “strong” all the fucking time. To admit that I was exhausted from feeling like I needed to be. That I just wanted to stop fighting.

And who the hell was I even fighting? It felt like everyone, and yet no fight could give me satisfaction. It just caused me more anxiety, as I amped up for the next one.

I realized the anger that I felt came from all the self-silencing. I wasn't really angry at anyone. I was angry at me, not advocating for myself. Not saying no. Not feeling safe and yet forcing myself to stay. Pretending things were okay to keep the peace, creating chaos and turmoil in myself instead.

Not making the necessary choices, and then acting like I had no choice.

Mainly what changed was not being so scared of what I was feeling anymore. Not feeling the need to push everything down and pretend for another day in order to fulfill some expectation. Realizing that confrontation doesn't have to be violent. In fact, I think the most useful, effective confrontation that happened was me starting to be kind to myself. Only then could I feel safe being honest.

Only then could I finally make the changes that needed to happen.

Being a peacekeeper comes from fear. It looks like being nice, but only ends up creating more resentment and dysfunction. How can you have your needs met if you don’t feel safe saying them to yourself, let alone out loud to someone else?

Protecting your peace comes from love. It means doing the kind thing. The right thing. And usually, that means the hardest thing.

The question you’ve been afraid to ask. The conversation you’ve been avoiding. The boundary that needs not only setting, but asserting.

When we show ourselves that we can be our own best advocate, the need to control every outcome out of anxiety subsides. We begin to trust that no matter what happens, we’ll be on our own side. Anxiety is when we are scared of what they’ll think, how they’ll react - it’s completely outside of our control. Trust is when we know ourselves to handle it. Because YOU are completely in YOUR control.

What’s something you’ve been doing to “keep the peace”?

What’s something you’ve been waiting to hear from yourself?

As always, with love,

Vera