When Loyalty Hurts

Some of us weren't taught how to leave. We were taught how to stay, how to hold everything together, even when it was breaking us. (upbeat music) This is beneath the floorboards, where we name the silent contracts, the generational debt, and the loyalty that felt like love, but lived in captivity. (upbeat music) Maybe you were the one who saw them struggle, the parent who gave everything, the one who survived so much and expected you to never leave their side. So you stayed, not physically. Maybe you moved out, built a life, succeeded even, but emotionally, you were still holding their feelings, still managing their loneliness, still sacrificing your expansion for their comfort.

You told yourself it was love, but it was loyalty, a loyalty that required your silence, your shrinking, your emotional disappearance. Place one hand on your heart and one hand on your belly. Your dominant hand will go on your heart and the other hand will go on your belly. Breathe in slowly for four, hold for two, and I want you to exhale for six, but with sound. Now ask yourself, what do I do to keep someone else from feeling abandoned? What do I do to keep someone else from feeling abandoned?

And then I want you to ask yourself, what has it cost me to stay loyal to their pain? What has it cost me to stay loyal to their pain? You see, you wanted their love, but you had to earn it through self-denial. You had to make your truth smaller so they wouldn't feel accused. You had to hide your expansion so they wouldn't feel left behind. You became their emotional guardian while orphaning your own needs.