The Retreat: Stepping Outside Of My Comfort Zone In Order To Keep Healing

I am an introvert. I like to stay in my comfort zone with the people I have come to trust. The experience with my divorce exacerbated this. When the person you thought you knew best in the world turns out to be someone you didn’t truly know at all, that fucks with your mind. So, am I more guarded with new people? Yes. And I tend to second guess my read on things when I am meeting new people.

The Retreat: Stepping Outside Of My Comfort Zone In Order To Keep Healing, Rain Into Rainbows LLC

Most of my healing since the divorce has been one-on-one or in solitude. I have worked a lot on healing in individual therapy, I have read a lot of books on relevant topics, I have had conversations one-on-one with people I trust. But there has been the feeling of an important piece being missing, and that piece is finding people who can truly relate. I know no two people will have had the exact same experience, but it has been very difficult to find people who seem to be able to truly understand certain unique aspects of what I went through. This missing piece has led to a feeling of walking through the world in a way that feels different internally than others.

So, my introverted and shy self took the leap and signed up for a 3 day retreat that involved a group experience with other people who would be there for similar reasons. Off I went, anxious as hell and with no idea of what to really expect. I had moments where I felt excited about the prospect of finally meeting other people who had lived similar aspects to my experience. And simultaneously, I had a lot of moments where I felt crazy for launching myself head-first into an experience that I knew would feel really vulnerable with a bunch of strangers.

The setting reminded me of being at Girl Scout camp as a child. The grounds were beautiful and serene and I felt a sense of nostalgia at first. But then my 43 year old body tried to sleep on the hard bed in the primitive cabin and I wouldn’t describe that feeling as nostalgic. There ended up being a lot more people attending the retreat than I had expected. I was already nervous about the interaction part, so that ramped up. I got food To Go and ate dinner in my cabin that first night. I then skipped breakfast at the communal dining hall the next morning and anxiously headed into the longest day of the retreat. As I was walking the path to the main building, I had a reckoning with myself. I had come there to try and connect with others who had similar experiences. There was no way I was going to do that if I kept avoiding common areas, eating meals in my cabin, and feeling too guarded to open up to anyone. Just going to this retreat was already outside of my comfort zone, but I was going to need to take an even bigger leap outside of it in order to leave with the puzzle piece I was seeking. If I didn’t, then the only thing I was going to bond with was my journal and the groundhog hanging around my cabin.

               During the morning session, a woman asked a question to the person leading the retreat, and from the context of her question, I ascertained that she might have been through an experience with similarities to mine. I tore off a small piece of paper and wrote down my name and phone number and I looked over to memorize what she looked like (in a non-creepy way). Once we were on a break, I went over to her and introduced myself and gave her my name and number. I told her what I had taken from her question, gave her a little information about my experience and asked if she had a similar experience. Tears filled her eyes as she said yes and we hugged and began quickly comparing notes. She also hadn’t met anyone with a similar experience. The break ended and we both went back to our previous spots, but now with a feeling of connection.

As the retreat continued, I pushed myself to eat meals in the communal dining hall and to talk to people during breaks. I took note of questions that were asked that resonated with me. And, although I was sleep deprived and wildly outside of my comfort zone the whole time, I started to feel an internal shift happening. As I met and talked to people who could understand my experience at a more intimate level, I felt this sense of one of the most elusive puzzle pieces falling into place. I felt another layer of closure happening. I didn’t have to over-explain my experience to the people at this retreat. I didn’t feel awkward or wonder if they got it or if I said too much. I felt myself consolidating all of the work I had done over these past few years to heal from the most traumatic experience of my life. The retreat hadn’t been anything like what I had pictured or expected, but in a very unexpected way, I walked out of it having gotten everything that I needed. In addition to that, I also was able to see some of my own personal growth in action. I saw myself being willing to step into that uncomfortable space and to still be authentic. My trust is forever scarred, yet I also saw myself willing to still give people a chance. I watched myself do a better job of listening to my own needs and wants as I navigated this challenging experience, which is something I have really been working on for the last couple of years.

               The irony is that even if it is a relationship that leaves you guarded, wounded, and wary of other people, connection with others is also an important part of the healing journey. There are many ways to do this and you are allowed to be discerning and to pace yourself along the way. Inevitably though, it might involve venturing into territory that feels scary. Do it anyway. Listen to your instincts about whether or not the circumstances feel emotionally safe, and if they do, then trust that there are good people out there who can understand.