“The most exhausting thing in life…. is being insincere.” Anne Morrow Lindbergh
Talking to my sister the other night, she said to me that in our childhood, I gave no bodily clues that I was in such constant pain. I found that hard to believe. To me the pain was omnipresent. It was seldom not there. But somehow I had learned that it was best to not talk about it.What caused me to work so hard to hide my pain?
Did I hope that by not acknowledging it, it would go away?
I knew of no other person, besides an elderly aunt, who suffered with constant pain. I had complained on many occasions to my parents about how much my legs hurt. They were at a loss to know what to say or offer any relief.
I feel committed to conversing and hearing others converse and validate their pain experiences. It is only by trying to find the words to communicate the intensity of these experiences that we can move the understanding forward. There may come a day when we have a socially acceptable way of communicating how we are feeling rather than spend so much energy hiding it.
Have you hid your pain? What causes you to do this?