The Ambiguity of Space

Do you remember the first area you had that was all yours? Was it vast or on the smaller side? Was it your first room? Was it in the family room with your toys? Was it the space below the stairwell?

I remember my first space vividly. At twelve-years young, I finally had my own bedroom. I was thrilled and delighted. Up until that point, my mother and I shared a room. Don’t get me wrong, it was nice, but there was nothing better than having a room in the house to claim as my own. That space was all mine. I took care of it as though I lived in a palace and had a staff caring for every single aspect of the room. It was exhilarating. The small 10x12 room became even more fantastic four years later when I was allowed to paint the walls a light blue.

The area came with a price though. Because of our family dynamic, the precious space was available once my sister moved out. It was bitter sweet. I missed her but was thrilled to finally have my own room.

At eighteen-years young, the house that raised me was sold and we moved into our weekend home. There, the attic was my space. I have fond memories of that attic. My best friend and I spent countless hours up there laughing and giggling and being teenage girls. I also cried countless tears in the attic. That attic was my lifeline to a childhood I had to release as our lives were changing drastically in the upcoming months. To this day, when I reminisce about one of my favorite spaces, the attic jumps to mind instantaneously.

Since then, as an adult, I moved well over twenty times. Each time, the first thing I did when unpacking was to put pictures on the walls to quickly transform the house into a home. Each home held beautiful memories. I do my best to choose the fun memories over those filled with tears.

You see, there have been a number of “spaces” in my life. There’s more to space than physicality. Space can be foundational, like a house; or abstract, like emotions. When physical space is invaded, the clean-up of it is relatively quick — unless it’s after a force of nature strikes. Even then, the physical cleaning is simpler than the emotions caused by the event.

Think about it for a moment. Have you lived through a hurricane? Or a fire? Or a massive blizzard causing power outages in the bitter cold? If you’ve lived through anything like this, when you recant the story, how do you tell it? Do you use inflection in your voice and feel the feelings all over again? Or are you monotone and speak of only the facts? I’d suffice it to say that 98% of you would show some type of emotion whilst sharing the event.

Our emotions will almost always lead us further than the facts. When damaged, it’s the abstract space that needs greater healing than does the physical. One of my greatest challenges is wrapping my brain around people who think there’s one form of abuse that overrides the other.

Please allow me to clarify. In today’s culture there are plenty of individuals who think emotional, mental, and spiritual abuse is far less damaging than physical abuse. I’m nowhere near upset with these individuals as they know not what they do. Let’s allow them to learn and grow. Emotional abuse doesn’t have set boundaries as does sexual or physical abuse. It’s exponentially more ambiguous.

Our emotional well-being is constantly looking for a safe space. When safety is removed, year after year, decade after decade, we become the shell of the people we once were. Emotional abuse damages a person’s self-esteem, self confidence, and even their mental health. The safety walls of the room, closet, or attic are destroyed. Healing from this trauma is not easy. It takes more than a bandage or a cast. It takes years of confidence building, forgiving, and empowered healing.

Because emotional abuse is subtle, it is overlooked. The one inflicting the abuse is sneaky with their words towards their victims — especially out in public. As a victim of emotional abuse before having the situation of physical abuse, I am more than aware of the after effects of having my emotional safety space completely destroyed. It took me five years to even recognize I had PTSD from enduring emotional abuse. Like I mentioned before, the aftermath of emotional abuse is more impactful than physical abuse.

If you, or someone you know, is in an emotionally abusive relationship, please be kind to the survivor once they are out. Some signs of the aftermath of surviving an emotionally abuse relationship are:

1. Chronic pain
2. Nightmares
3. Insomnia
4. Social withdrawal
5. A hard time concentrating on tasks

What can you do to help others heal when their emotional safe space is no more? You can create the safe space for them by:

• Listening to & validating them
• Allow them to take things slowly when it comes being out in public
• Reassure them with positive words & experiences
• Give them the space to feel their emotions without judgement
• Invite them to a quiet space away from the chaos of the world

Space is one of the most important aspects of our lives. Whether it’s the four walls you live in, the small section of the living room that is designated to your treasures, or the space where you hold your emotions, having people respect your space is vital for a successful life.

If you don’t feel like your space is sacred and would like to find out how to create your own safe space by setting boundaries, you’re invited to set up a complimentary 30 minute call with me. Click here and the link will take you directly to my calendly.

And for those of you who think emotional abuse isn’t real or is far less impactful to a person’s livelihood, I challenge you to take a moment to remove any emotion from a story you’re telling your friend. Can you do it? Or do you feel the emotions of joy, sadness, pride, or whatever as you recant your story?

Safe space for your emotions is critical. If you don’t feel safe emotionally, countless challenges may arise in your life. Find that safe space and live there from here on out.

Most humbly,

Orsika Julia