Katrina's Story: The Moment Everything Broke
My ReSelfing story begins where many stories begin, with heartbreak.
I was walking down the street in London, buses blasting by me, people bumping into me, cycles swerving me, all non-existent to me, because I was on the phone with my husband, having yet another long, emotional, desperate conversation about our relationship and how deeply unfulfilled and unhappy I was. It was the kind of conversation that doesn't resolve anything, the kind that goes around the same circles. Where you say the same things in different ways, hoping this time they will land, hoping this time you will be heard, hoping this time something will finally change. But it doesn't.
I hear myself saying the same things:
“Why didn't you return my text?” “Why haven't I heard from you?” “You know I am hurting, but you don't seem to care.” “I feel like you're not listening to me.” “I feel like you don't love me anymore.” “Why can't you love me the way I need you to?”
Because this was not the first conversation of its kind. This was the thousandth conversation over a five year period of time. In every different way and in every different manner: tone of voice, texts, emails, greeting cards, gifts, quiet conversations, crying, begging, pleading, screaming, silence. I tried them all. But nothing changed. He hung up the phone on me and something inside of me broke. Utterly and completely. On that sidewalk, I ruptured and disintegrated, all at the same time.
I stopped walking and leaned against a wall for support, feeling the weight of it all land in my body at once. I slowly slid down into a puddle on the pavement, crying. Not quietly or composed, but fully, visibly, uncontrollably. It was the kind of crying that comes from somewhere much more powerful than the moment you are in, the kind that carries years with it. It comes from deep inside your body, roaring out of the mouth as a wail forming the word “NOOOOOOO”. A guttural moan, stemming from a body and soul literally weeping from pain and emotional agony.
People walked past me, around me, over me. As I lay in a heap, finally collapsing under the weight of a second marriage break down, yet another relationship failure, yet another man I couldn't reach, couldn't find peace with, didn't feel fully loved by, I just let my body and self finally purge the disgust, disappointment, anguish, sadness, anger, frustration and deep distress out onto that sidewalk. I simply didn't care anymore about maintaining the hope and perhaps illusion that I could fix this. I accepted defeat.
Because somewhere inside of me, I already knew. This wasn't about him. This wasn't even about the relationship. This was about me, and something was very, very wrong.
While busy asking “What is wrong with you!!?” I was really asking “What is wrong with me?”
Dr Louise: What Is Happening Here
What Katrina describes here will feel familiar to many of you, even if you have never quite had the words for it. From the outside, everything appears intact. There is a relationship, a life, movement, conversation. But internally, something is not holding. There is not yet a stable place within her to return to, and so the focus moves outward, toward the relationship, toward the other person, toward anything that might relieve what is being felt.
This is the part that is often misunderstood. It looks like the problem is between two people, but more often, it reflects something that is not yet available within the self. When something feels too much, the system moves outward. Not because she is weak, or too much, but because this is what her system has learned to do in order to cope. Over time, this creates a pattern where safety and relief are expected to come from outside, rather than from within.
And so the fear is not just of someone leaving, but of the feeling that would follow. In trying to avoid that feeling, the individual leaves themselves first. They override their needs, stay longer than they should, reach outward before turning inward. By the time Katrina finds herself on the pavement, this is no longer something that can be thought through. The system is overwhelmed, the body releasing what has been building for a long time.
This is why understanding alone was not enough. These patterns do not live in thought, they live in the nervous system, and in moments of distress, the system returns to what is familiar. This is the gap between understanding and change. And within that gap, there is something small, but significant. A pause. The moment just before the reaction takes over. It may feel uncomfortable, even wrong, but it interrupts what the system expects to happen next. And in that interruption, something begins to shift. Instead of immediately moving outward, there is the possibility, however slight, of staying.
This is where ReSelfing begins.
Beginning to Notice
You do not need to change anything yet. For now, just begin to notice.
Notice where your system goes when something feels uncomfortable. The pull to reach out, to resolve something quickly, to move away from the feeling rather than stay with it. It won't look exactly the same for you, but there is often a familiar movement. Away from yourself, toward something that promises relief.
This is where it begins. Not in changing what you do, but in noticing the moment you are about to leave yourself.
Take a moment now.
Think about the last time you felt uncomfortable. Not your worst moment, just a recent one. Something that made you feel anxious, unsettled, or not quite okay.
Write it down:
Now, gently ask yourself:
What did I feel in that moment?
Where did my system go?
Did I reach for someone? Did I distract myself? Did I try to fix it quickly? Did I leave the feeling? Did I disappear into my phone?
What was I trying not to feel?
There is no right answer here. And nothing you write needs to be perfect.
This is not about getting it right: It is about seeing it.
Because most of us do not notice the moment we leave ourselves. We only notice the aftermath.
ReSelfing begins earlier than that. It begins in the moment you catch the pull. Even once.
And for now, that is enough.