Rania’s Mental Wellness Journey
Mental wellness is a lifelong journey, encouraging each of us to approach and embrace the difficult moments in life with honesty and grace, without the judgment that can sneak into our minds. While there are still times of frustration and exhaustion, my own mental health journey has been an exciting and liberating experience that has taught me not to be ashamed of my own conditioning that left me in denial of embracing the realities of my own mental and emotional wellness. It is not about it being perfect, it is about knowing how to process the trying moments with the appropriate tools. And, as my mentor Suzy Batiz says, look at those moments from a place of curiosity.
Beginning in my childhood, I fought to be seen and heard. As much as I love my family and my Palestinian culture, there were limitations to how girls and women were viewed. Even my younger brother had more freedoms than me. My father used to say “No, it’s not equal. No, it’s not fair. Yes, I’m a sexist pig.” My parents are of a certain generation, and it took years of me pushing back against their own conditioning and upbringing for there to be real change in how they saw me, particularly in how my father saw me. They have come a long way and, while we still don’t agree on much, they have reminded me that change is possible.
I didn’t realize this as a girl, but the constant battle to be seen and heard actually prepared me for my career.
I began working in politics and advocacy in college, never intending to make it my lifelong career…my life really. My work has provided me some of the most rewarding and exhilarating moments, but it has also been the source of intense emotional exhaustion. In pouring my heart into all that I do, the weight of every decision sits heavy in my soul.
The seemingly endless violence and injustice that crosses my desk day in and day out drained me emotionally and physically. I was absorbing the constant flood of emotions from those I was working with, holding them deep inside. Instead of addressing my own needs, I suppressed the strain I was experiencing and pushed forward, never stopping to take a breath. For the majority of my career, I believed that I would no longer be good at my job if I did not feel every emotion of the families, individuals and issues I was fighting for.
Two years ago, on a flight home to Dallas, I received a triggering text message from a family member and the emotion and stress I had been suppressing for so long all came to the forefront. The universe has a way of providing what we need. That day, I already had plans on the books to meet up with Suzy. From the time I was on the plane to when Suzy opened the door, I had been mostly holding my breath. The moment I stepped inside her home I exhaled and immediately began sobbing. It is hard for someone like me who has a history of suppressing their emotions to feel safe and Suzy has always provided me a safe space to release, to be able to express my emotions in exactly the way I need to.
When I was finally able to calm down, Suzy said to imagine that I was a screen. Instead of letting all of the pain, the emotion, the stress pass through, it was getting stuck inside of me, just building up until I finally broke. It was in that moment that Suzy and I both knew I could not continue on in the ways I had been for so long.
Suzy recommended a type of therapy known as eye movement desensitization and reprocessing, or EMDR therapy. I was so desperate in that moment that without question I immediately agreed and scheduled an appointment. It was only when I learned what it was that the reality of what I was about to do sank in. I’m not a therapist, but the way EMDR was explained to me is that it helps to bring trauma forward, providing the space and ability to process, and remember the trauma without having to relive it. Leading into my first appointment, I was terrified because there was so much that I had suppressed over the years—including trauma from my childhood. EMDR helped me recognize what suppressing the trauma had done to me, while also allowing me to own my story, releasing the judgment and guilt I had for myself, and begin to understand that I didn’t have to relive some of the most devastating experiences of my life to heal.
It took time for me to recognize that I did not need to be guilty about going to therapy, and that the judgments I had placed on myself were about my own conditioning and the beliefs that were instilled in me. And then there’s more judgement—judgement for needing therapy. Judgement for taking the time I needed for myself. Unfortunately, therapy is still not discussed enough, and in many circles, sharing our mental health and wellness journey is frowned upon. These are all things I also worked through with my therapists and continue to work on. For me, therapy is learning about myself in real time; learning about those things that were affecting me and how I could actually be of better service to others when I took care of myself.
Even keeping to a strict schedule of both EMDR and hypnotherapy every other week, some days are always going to be more difficult than others. Things are going to get caught against the screen. It is in these moments that I stop and take time to breathe and to be honest with myself about how I really am; what my truth is, not what it appears to be. In my breathwork, I find that I focus so hard on my breath, on counting those breaths, that everything else fades into the background. Taking this time to stop reminds me that this pain and stress will not sit with me for longer than it needs to, but only if I don’t allow it.
I am an incredibly physical person. When something is upsetting me, I become physically ill or I have a pain that just sits in my stomach. I think this is why running has always been a great release for me, too. Just like in breathwork, running has always allowed me the opportunity to physically step away and release what I am holding in. Depending on my mood sometimes I rage run, where I scream and sing at the top of my lungs, other times I just want to run because it’s beautiful outside and I put my music on shuffle and just enjoy the world around me.
The people in my life also serve as a sort of mental release for me. My husband is my true partner in life. When things are bad or frustrating or heavy, he makes it better. When it’s good, he helps me remember to celebrate. My family, as big and loud as they are, as much as we don’t agree—I know they love me and I love them. My mentors, especially Charlie Baker and Suzy Batiz, remind me to take a step back and honor the progress I’ve made and the successes I’ve had. They are also quick to give me time and a gut check when I need it most.
I’ve spent most of my life pushing for justice and equity. And IT IS HARD. But stopping, even for just a moment, to appreciate the incredible people I have in my life, the important work I get to do, and even at the simplest, just being alive, makes my heart sing.
For most of my life, I did not believe that I deserved space, like therapy, where I could work through my trauma and stress. I know I’m not alone. So often, women are conditioned to believe that there is only so much space for us and if you are not working and pushing yourself all the way to the edge, someone else will take your place. For a majority of my life, I felt like I had to just keep my head down and do the work, no matter how uncomfortable I was, no matter how much pain I was in. To break this cycle, I think it is going to require women coming together and standing up for each other, rather than viewing one another as a threat or competition. I want women to understand that they do not have to tolerate the restrictions of the patriarchy, or of the patriarchal systems in general. And, as we break down these systems, if we can come together and work for each other, it will be a bit less scary.
Since I began this journey nearly three years ago, I feel like I’m in a completely different place with a capacity for tough emotions that I didn’t think was possible. I’m not going to pretend like I’ve come to the end of the journey--the reality is, it’s still hard. My work is still very heavy more often than not, imposter syndrome pops up and I feel like I don’t have the right to be in certain spaces, even just who I am as a Palestinian American...sometimes I still catch myself forgetting to breathe. It’s not that life is never tough or emotions never come up. It’s about having the tools to recognize when it’s happening and be curious where those feelings and emotions are coming from rather than allowing the emotions to live inside of me and take over my mind and my heart.. It’s not about being perfect or having all the answers immediately, it is about knowing how to process things as they come my way. The tools that I have gathered over this journey—different therapy modalities, breathing, running, sharing what is going on with the people in my life (and to be clear--I get to pick who I share these deepest, most personal parts with)— have helped me sort through those things that are within my control and those that do not belong to me.
It’s really easy to get caught up in the idea that I already dealt with something, so why is it coming up again—but the truth is, this is a lifelong journey. Everyone’s journey is different. For me, the universe has given me what I can handle at any given moment— when I’m ready, I’m presented with an opportunity to delve deeper. Learning to process and deal with emotions and stress and whatever curveball is thrown my way has opened up so much more space and capacity within myself.
I did not lose my empathy for others when I started focusing on my own wellness. Caring for myself, both mentally and physically, only allows me to serve better and more completely the causes and the people I care about.
