Story Time: Ava

I had some herbs I’d dried from my last herb garden, varieties that don’t grow well at my current house: lavender and rosemary. I was clinging them in the hopes that I’d get new ones growing before I burned the old, which I’d turned into wreaths. But growing woody herbs in a humid climate is very imperfect. Last week I burned the wreaths, leaning into the imperfect process of herb medicine on the land where I live.

A friend recently gave me some examples of how perfectionism looks in her daily life. Maybe you can relate:

The idea that things have to be prepared just right before I start an endeavor.
That I need to have a plan before I go to the store.
That I need to wait for a breakthrough before I can relax.
That I need to receive external validation before I go ahead with a project I'm excited about.

This is often how our internal landscape looks. Changing it isn’t a matter of becoming a different person—that’s another perfectionist myth. Changing it depends on having the right tools. Those tools are what I teach people as a coach.

I’ve been seeing one of my clients, let’s call her Ava, since last spring, when she came to me wrapped up in anxiety. She would make these lists of things she should do within the year: classes to take, art projects to start, mindfulness practices to learn.

When I met Ava, she had a self-proclaimed “death-grip” on her to-do lists. This meant they also had a death grip on her — the to-do lists ran her life. If she didn’t try to keep up with them, her anxiety skyrocketed, but when she tried to keep up, she always failed.

We started together by digging into what the hell was happening inside her, to create this impossible situation. We used parts work, and gently questioned the various voices at play in her internal world. We found they had a smoothly oiled, if messy, system:

1. Part A is always tracking everything, and decides what Ava needs to do in order to Be Better, so she doesn’t become a terrible person.

2. Part B is a wonderful time keeper and tracker, driven by fear that Ava won’t get to do all of the things she desires in her lifetime. She makes sure Part A’s directions are completed.

3. Part C has a different approach. “Fuck this shit,” she says, overwhelmed by the pressure Part A and B put on Ava. Impulse-buying and eating ensue, to soothe this part with immediate dopamine hits.

4. Part D has a solution: guilt! An excellent motivator in reminding Ava that she should be grateful for the life she has, and to get back to it, or else lose it.

5. Part E is Ava’s most blended part — that is, it took a while for Ava to think separately from Part E, whose role is extreme self-judgment. Part E pushes Ava to be better, think better, do better, out of fear that she’s not worthy of love. (Part A tracks this info.)

6. Part C circles back here, again overwhelmed by guilt and pressure, and gets Ava to do something that will make her feel good immediately.

Can you see how each of these parts is operating out of fear? Knowing this allowed Ava to have compassion for her frightened parts. She diligently spoke to them, heard their fears, and offered alternate realities, both in and between sessions. Watching her tender commitment towards them was inspiring.

Part E had the biggest transformation. I asked Ava why she thought the internal goalpost was always moving, why she always had to strive for better. “Where did that come from?” I said.

She laughed. “I think you know.”

I laughed too. Ava’s mom can be fairly judgmental, of herself and others. She didn’t give Ava many examples of rest or “good enough.” We both knew this was part of Ava’s picture.

“What about your dad?” I asked. She told me he was always thorough, organized, had a list and was on top of everything. He didn’t give Ava many examples of “done enough."

Ava’s parents undoubtedly learned those ways of being from their own families. It’s not about finding who to blame, but about understanding what’s happening while having compassion for ourselves, our parts, and even our parents.

“Can you see why you act out these patterns?” I asked. “Now you’ve noticed them, and as an adult you get to decide how you want to be. But you don’t have to feel shitty about how you’ve been - you didn’t stand a chance!”

(This is a favorite move I’ve learned from my wonderful couples therapist. No-bullshit compassion goes a long way.)

Ava looked a little surprised. “I suppose you’re right.”

The thing about parts is, they support they want is often for us to not give into them. We have to listen to their fears and then show them new ways of being. We have to assure them that the risk of doing things differently is worth it — and maybe not that risky after all.

Part E asked Ava to set more reasonable goalposts, to stop the to-do lists. She wanted Ava to take charge. And Ava did.

At a recent session, Ava reflected on her to-do lists. “So many things that one person couldn’t complete them in a lifetime, and I expected myself to do them in a year,” she said. “I have compassion for why I made them, but I’m also willing, for the first time, to let go of them. I want to choose more reasonable goals for myself.”

At the start of working with a client, we choose 3 focuses for our time together. One of Ava’s was “Regulating her nervous system to create her safety and base for the day.”

I improvised a little witnessing ritual, to help Ava absorb what she’d accomplished. First, I pointed out that she’d accomplished this goal we set.

“How does it feel?” I asked.

Ava’s face lit up, and she grinned uninhibitedly. “Happy,” she said. “I’m proud of myself. I’m never proud of myself! Yes, there’s grief that it was like this for so long, but I am so happy.”

I grinned back.

“It’s about slowing down enough to catch these old impulses when they come up, and address them, so I’m not caught in the same cycles. I haven’t made a list in a month.”

“Who are you?” I joked. She laughed. I felt like I was seeing Ava clearly, seeing who she is without the burden of her parts’ fears weighing down her spirit, her body, her mind, her facial expressions. “What I really mean is, it’s beautiful to see you, without that weight.”

“Thank you for altering my neural pathways!” she said.

This was a new and humbling compliment. I was a little afraid of the pressure it might put on me — I have my own parts, after all. Then I decided that I loved it.

Making these internal transformations is hard, liberating work. Often, we need support in order to know where to start, and how to do it over the course of months instead of years. If you’re interested in learning more, I offer a free 30-minute conversation with no pressure, just space to talk and a few tools to start feeling better now.

Big love and gratitude to Ava (name changed) for letting me share her story ♡

Village Witch’s Corner

My intention this week : 

Cancel things when I need more space.

Question(s) I'm asking this week:

Am I enjoying myself?

What I’m Reading:

The Cliffs still, and I keep hearing from people who have read it because I mentioned it here which is SO COOL! Have you read it? Email me and tell me!

Spell of the Week:

Cancel things when I need more space ;)

Wheel of the year:

We’re in the early winter days. The leaves are falling and leaving clarity in their wake. The weight of the year so far starts to fall away and make space for the new to come in at the Solstice To learn more about living in alignment with the seasons, sign up for my Patreon (free and paid options available).