For as long as I can remember, I have always tiptoed into the swimming pool. First I stand on the edge daring myself to dive in. Then I stick one toe in to test the temperature. By the time I have finally willed myself to take the plunge I refuse to jump, instead I slowly descend into the shallow end of the pool on my tippy-toes.
Standing on my tip-toes does not make the water warmer. The water would feel exactly the same if I walked in with my feet flat. Tippy-toeing into the pool does not make it easier to adjust to temperature either, in fact it just prolongs the process. I know for a fact that the transition would be much less painful if I just jumped right in, but I never do.
The other day I noticed that I do the same thing in the shower. I stand on my tip-toes until the water warms up. And then once I’m comfortable I place my feet flat on the tile and relax.
Being physically cold causes me to restrict and shrink into myself. I contract every muscle in my body, pulling everything tight in an effort to protect myself from the perceived threat of icy water. I didn’t realize the significance of my tippy-toe habit until now.
I tip-toe whenever I don’t feel fully supported.
Tip-toeing into water is not much different than tip-toeing through life. Over the years I have increasingly recognized the value of support. Life is just better when I feel supported. There is this feeling of invincibility, like I can do anything, when I know that my back is covered.
For the longest time I believed that in order for support to truly count it had to come from my family. I longed for confirmation from the people I loved the most that I was doing a great job. I wanted to know that they not only cared about what I was doing, but that they were genuinely interested too.
The truth is, some of my family members are not interested in my work at all. Sure they love and care about me very much, but they don’t want to hear about my new client or read my latest post. They want to know that I’m doing well, but they don’t need to be deeply immersed in the ins and outs of every area of my life.
It was very painful to accept the fact that my family may never read a single article or share my enthusiasm about a new opportunity. But the truth is, they don’t have to be interested in what I’m doing to love me. They don’t have to be my cheerleaders to wish me well.
My people don’t have to be kin to be kinfolk.
(tweet this)
It took me a long while, but I have come to realize that I don’t have to share DNA with my people. My tribe is made up of people from all over the globe, from Mumbai to Long Beach. The internet has made the world so much smaller, and because of the world-wide-web (www) I’ve finally found my folks.
My people share my views and appreciate my perspective. They read my stuff. They follow my lead. They challenge me. They ask questions. They seek clarity. They shout hooray… and give air-fives!
We connect via Zoom. We chat on the phone. We send texts. We go out for coffee. We have virtual happy hours. We share genuine camaraderie. We love each other out of sincerity, not obligation.
I support them + they support me.
My tribe is a community. Some of us are related, but most of us aren’t, but we are all connected. The love and support is real.
And nobody has to tip-toe around.
Stacey Herrera
Stacey Herrera is an Intimacy & REALationship coach, writer, and creator of The Sensuality Project,
