Broken and Made Whole

The broken places in our lives tend to form a kind of trauma that lives on long after the events themselves in the form of deeply held (but often unconscious) beliefs about the world and ourselves formed by the traumatic experiences.

A tragic loss of someone important to us may create an unconscious belief that it’s not safe to allow anyone else to get close to us because it isn’t worth the pain of loss that might happen in the future.

The failure to achieve something we set out to do may result in a belief that risk must be avoided at all costs. Or maybe we extrapolate that failure to mean that we are a failure, so we don’t bother aiming to succeed at anything else.

At the same time, our brains excel at seeking out evidence that proves our beliefs to be correct, while ignoring or dismissing any evidence to the contrary. This goes beyond confirmation bias to an actual unconscious seeking out of “proof” to support our beliefs.

For example, when I was researching the purchase of a new (to me) car a couple of years ago, I suddenly saw the model of car I was considering everywhere I went. My brain fixated (without my conscious intent) on showing me how common this car was as a validation of the “rightness” of my choice.

In the same way, one of the deep beliefs I developed out of broken places in my life is that I am not enough—not good enough, not lovable enough, not worthy enough, not productive enough, not valuable enough—you name it. If it’s something good or valued, I’m not it.

My brain, therefore, spends an inordinate amount of time trying to help me out by proving me right. It runs highlight reels of every failure, mistake, criticism, regret, and rejection all day, every day in my head on a continual loop to “helpfully” demonstrate just how not enough I am.

If I receive ten comments of feedback with nine being glowingly positive and one being critical or negative, my brain unfailingly latches onto the one negative one and ignores the nine positive ones.

To make matters worse, I have historically gravitated toward relationships with excessively critical people because their criticism of me felt normal and trustworthy. These choices just added to my (very long) list of highlight reels of criticisms from others in my brain’s compendium of “proof” of my not-enoughness.

When I consciously and objectively evaluate my life, I can see that there have been as many (or more) successes, occasions of positive feedback, and times when I’ve done good in this world, but I have to actively seek those memories out. My brain glides right over them in the continual highlight reel it runs in my head.

Your trauma-based beliefs are likely different from mine, but whatever they are, I suspect your brain does the same highlight reel in your head “proving” your inaccurate, trauma-based view of the world or yourself to be true.

One of the things I love about mending broken pottery is that it provides visual, tangible evidence that the brokenness in our lives—including the trauma-based beliefs that arise out of those broken places—don’t have to stay that way. It is possible, with healing, to see those same places in our lives in a whole different way from an entirely different perspective. As the pieces mend together so can our life mend. The broken lines may show through but with them we are made whole once again. 

I’m still not there yet with my belief of my not-enoughness, but I am slowly but steadily shifting that perspective by actively focusing on evidence that I am enough, by interrupting the old highlight reels in my head when I notice them going, and by choosing not to stay in situations or relationships that are continually critical of me or undervalue me.

You have the same opportunity for change.