Tiny Buddha

Category: love & relationships

  • How To Set Boundaries With Your Racist Relatives

    How To Set Boundaries With Your Racist Relatives

    As the Black Lives Matter movement gains traction across the nation and the world, many of us are being called to use the skills we’ve learned to improve ourselves⁠—such as speaking our truth, setting boundaries, and breaking the people-pleasing pattern⁠—to improve our communities, our countries, and our world.

    Those of us who are allies are conveniently positioned to have conversations about racial justice with our family members, friends, and coworkers. However, historically, many of us have balked at these conversations out of fear of our own awkwardness, others’ anger, or the possibility of creating rifts in relationships.

    In the past, I’ve done a subpar job of asserting my boundaries with racist relatives. Instead of saying, “Hey, that thing you just said was really racist,” I usually opted to stay silent. I justified my silence with one or all of the following excuses:

    • “I can’t change their mind.”
    • “They won’t listen to me anyway.”
    • “It’ll just start an argument.”
    • “If this becomes a debate, I don’t know enough facts to justify my side.”

    Now, I’ve come to understand that silence is violence⁠—and that complicity in racism is racism.
    Some activists assert that allies are most useful when we advocate for racial justice with our racist relatives. Others caution that getting into embittered arguments with racist relatives is a waste of energy⁠—energy that could be better-devoted to creating real change for black folks.

    Whether you choose to take an offensive stance (proactively engaging your racist relatives in conversations about race) or defensive stance (speaking out against racist relatives who make racist comments), knowing how to set boundaries with racist family members is critically important. When conversations become ineffective or toxic, we need to know how to stand in our power and create safety for ourselves.

    These four tools can help you set empowered boundaries with your racist relatives and maintain the emotional energy you need to avoid burnout and continue engaging in anti-racist work.

    1. Clarify the values that empower you to speak up.

    When planning to have a difficult conversation, we can find motivation and strength in our values. Our values are our basic, fundamental beliefs that help us determine what is important to us.

    For example, my core values include integrity and authenticity. I’m passionate about speaking from the heart, being honest, and acting in a moral manner.

    When it comes to having difficult conversations with family members about race, I ask myself: What would it look like to act in integrity here? What would it mean to be fully authentic in this conversation? For me, this means not going silent in difficult conversations, addressing racist jokes and comments the moment they’re spoken, and holding firm to my beliefs, even in the face of others’ anger.

    What are your core values? Honesty? Loyalty? Generosity? Compassion? Consider how those values align with your intention to speak out against racial injustice. When those conversations get difficult, find solace in the truth that you’re living in alignment with your fundamental beliefs.

    (If you want to discover your most deeply-held values but aren’t sure where to begin, Scott Jeffrey’s Core Value List of over 200 personal values is a great place to start.)

    2. Come prepared with specific language.

    Boundary-setting discussions, especially with relatives, are among the most challenging conversations we can have. To reduce the pressure we may feel to summon the perfect words at the perfect time, it’s helpful to come prepared with a few key phrases we can use to set, and re-assert, our boundaries.

    In a recent Instagram post, trauma and relationship therapist Jordan Pickell offered some excellent suggestions for how to tell someone you love that they’re being racist. It included suggestions like:

    • In the moment, you can say “That is really racist/offensive/ignorant.”
    • Set a boundary that you will not accept racist comments: “Don’t make racist jokes around me. If you do, I’m leaving.”
    • Focus on the feelings/impact of their words: “When you say that, it makes me feel angry/disgusted/confused.”
    • You can also go back to it after the fact: “What you said the other day isn’t sitting well with me.”

    Remember that boundaries are statements of what we will or will not accept. The goal of a boundary isn’t necessarily to change another’s behavior, but to create safety and integrity for ourselves. The most perfectly crafted boundary might not stop Uncle Joe from making racist jokes, but it can protect you, your children, your mental energy, or your home.Examples of simple boundaries in this vein include:

    • “I will not speak to you when you make racist comments.”
    • “If you make racist comments, I will hang up the phone.”
    • “If you continue to make racist comments, I will not bring my children to your home.”
    • “I cannot tolerate your racism and I no longer want to be in touch with you.”

    3. Use the broken record technique.

    When our boundaries are met with defensiveness, we may find ourselves drawn into circular and long-winded arguments. Your relatives may say,

    • “You can’t tell me what to do!”
    • “You’re taking this too seriously. Lighten up.”
    • “Show me the numbers. Prove it.”

    Remember: you don’t need to justify your boundary. You don’t need to explain yourself, to recite the most recent statistics on police brutality, or to appeal to this person’s heart of hearts that racism is actually really, really bad. Instead, try the broken record technique.

    Created by Richard Lavoie, a national expert on classroom management, the broken record technique is a simple yet effective way to reassert your boundary without getting mired in distracting arguments. To deploy this technique, simply repeat the same message three times, calmly yet assertively—regardless of how the recipient responds.

    Here’s an example:

    You: “Bob, I will not participate in conversations with you when you’re being racist.”

    Bob: “Oh come on, lighten up! You’re taking this too seriously.”

    You: “I will not participate in conversations with you when you’re being racist.”

    Bob: “Racist? That’s ridiculous. You know what’s really racist? Affirmative action.”

    You: “I will not participate in conversations with you when you’re being racist.”

    Bob: “Alright, whatever. I’m outta here.”

    As you can see, when you repeat the same message calmly and assertively, you simultaneously limit Bob’s power while preserving your own mental and emotional energy.

    4. Practice post-boundary self-care.

    Especially if this is your first time addressing racism in your family, setting these boundaries may feel particularly difficult. It may feel like an enormous emotional upheaval⁠—and it is! You’re breaking a silence that you’ve held for months, years, or even decades, and that is serious emotional work.

    After setting your boundary, you may feel fear, guilt, or shame, even though, intellectually, you know that setting this boundary was important and righteous. If you grew up in an environment where you were punished, harmed, or neglected when you disagreed with a family member, learning the art of honest expression in the family is a radical act.

    Post-boundary self-care helps you avoid burnout and replenish your resources so that you can continue engaging in anti-racist activism in your family and community.

    Personally, I really need rest after a conversation like this. My nervous system gets overloaded and frayed, and a nap or cozy evening at home is an important way to come home to myself. If I’m feeling guilty, I contact a trusted friend who can reaffirm the righteousness of my boundary and keep me on the course.

    When we set boundaries with our racist relatives, we create personal, zero-tolerance zones where we are no longer complicit in our relatives’ racism. It is difficult and demanding work, but it is absolutely necessary if we are to claim true allyship with the black folks who are fighting for their right to exist safely in this world.

  • How to Survive a Breakup with an Addict and Heal Your Heart

    How to Survive a Breakup with an Addict and Heal Your Heart

    “The positive cannot exist without the negative.” ~Alan Watts

    My heart was empty. It had never felt that empty before. Sometimes I felt a gap gnawing at my chest making everything around me feel like half of a whole. I felt like a piece of me had died.

    I painted my childhood bedroom grey that summer, picking out the color carefully after taping paint samples on the wall and pondering them for hours.

    The old color gave me a headache; it glowed neon green and looked dirty now from years of feet on the walls. Hidden above the moldings, I found pencil drawings from when I was younger. Quotes and such that had meaning to me at one time, but now the point was lost.

    These distractions were welcomed. They shifted my eyes from all the stuff I’d crammed in my parents’ dining room: a pile of boxes, a desk, a lamp, and some pictures that I had framed from old magazines I found at flea markets with him. This was all that was left of that life that I ended abruptly one night in April.

    He was passed out drunk on the living room floor and I was alone. I had been for a while. So why was I waiting, hoping he’d wake up and be with me? Hoping to see a glimpse of that person that wasn’t consumed by the addiction.

    That person was gone and that part of me, gone with it. I made extra noise packing my bag that night so that I would wake him. Tired and groggy, he got up and stood near the stove, squinting at me. Then crossing his arms, he turned away to stare out the window.

    He was angry that I woke him. Never wake a sleeping drunk. They won’t care (even if they really do care). I don’t know why I woke him. I wanted to sling my bag over my shoulder and slam the door behind me, and I wanted him to see me do it. He threw his hands up at me—“Just go.” And he went back to the floor. Don’t wake a drunk and expect them to care.

    The tears came out heavy as soon as my car door closed. I’m surprised I could drive through it. After eight years I was back at my parents’ house. Even if I knew deep down this was the best decision for me, it felt like defeat.

    I had trouble doing even the smallest of tasks. I moped around in my bathrobe smoking cigarettes and lying on the brown leather couch for hours. Skipping meals and flipping through meaningless TV channels. It affected my work as well. I started taking more days off and I couldn’t focus. I had a plan to move forward, but the pain had rendered me paralyzed.

    The thing about losing your best friend is that your best friend is not there to help you through it.

    After I left, pieces of his old self started to appear to me in sober mid-day conversations. He didn’t ask me to come back, he knew I wouldn’t. And I knew not to be tempted by this side of him while the alcoholic still lurked around his mind.

    The transformation into addict was so quick. Around year four we were both drowning in this addiction and consumed by it. Sometimes I wonder how it had even started. It was as though I woke up suddenly from a nightmare. I knew something had to change.

    He had alcoholism in his family and had avoided it for years, and still it had come to this. I quit drinking around our sixth year. After two years of sober vs. drunk rivalry, he finally told me the truth. He would never quit.

    It was like being stabbed in the chest; I couldn’t breathe.

    After you leave alcohol behind, you realize how meaningless it is. In my eyes, he was choosing a stupid bottle over me. My self-esteem started to plummet rapidly.

    I felt for a long time I was a broken person incapable of being fixed. But no one is broken forever. We are all capable of healing and moving forward into better phases of our lives.

    This will be the hardest decision you ever half to make, to stay or go. When you are in love and have invested your time in someone, when you start to contemplate a different life, your emotions will be like a cruel game of tug of war.

    You will start by downplaying how bad the problem is. If you are covering or lying to your family and friends for the addict, then there is a problem. I isolated myself for years just because I was embarrassed to admit how bad it had actually gotten.

    I can’t tell you how many times I told my family my partner was just too tired or sick to come when in reality he was drunk or hungover. I wasn’t ready to face the reality that I needed to make a change. It took me a long time before I made the decision for myself.

    You will feel guilty and you will be tempted to go back. You are leaving the person you love alone in the most vulnerable stage of their life. But you have to understand that you are not responsible for what they do with their life. You are not doing anything for them by staying with them while they choose to do this to themselves.

    In many cases, people make the best decisions when they are at their lowest. The only thing you have to do is to make good choices for yourself. You should never feel guilty about removing yourself from a situation that is harming you.

    You will feel anger. It’s been hiding underneath that unconditional love for a while, and it will surface. It is completely natural to feel angry. You hear all these stories about addicts who quit for love, who quit to save the relationship. But this is not always the case.

    Just because this doesn’t happen to you doesn’t mean there is something wrong with you. To a person looking from the outside into the addiction it’s frustrating, because it seems like such a simple solution that benefits both sides—all they have to do is quit. But to someone that is in the addiction it’s so much more than that.

    It’s as though the addict is blind, and he or she is the only one who can decide whether to see again. Quitting is a scary decision and it will be one of the hardest things they will ever do. The honest truth is it has nothing to do with you. You can beg and plead with them, but it’s still up to the addict to get help to release himself from the addiction. You are just an unfortunate casualty.

    Through all the pain I felt from the breakup there was not any part of me that regretted the decision I made for myself. All of my experiences have made me who I am, and I have learned to love that person more than I ever thought possible.

    Here are four tips on how to heal and become the best version of yourself.

    1. Take the time you need to heal and get past the relationship.

    I think a lot of people have expectations on how long it takes to grieve a relationship, but we all heal at our own pace. I often felt that my healing process was taking too long, but every step was necessary for me to become the person I am today.

    I don’t care if it takes you years, as long as you realize that you will get over this.

    Take time every day to meditate and allow yourself to feel anything you want, without guilt. These thoughts and feelings do not define you, these are things you can experience and then let go.

    Express your concerns and fears to the people you are close to, who will listen to you. Talk to yourself, even out loud. Sometimes talking it out can help you work through your inner struggles and make sense of it all.

    Be kind to yourself. Some days it may feel like you are not making any progress, but you are. Even if the healing is slow, you are moving forward with each day.

    Listen to your needs and question your fears. Take the time to invest in you. Take the love you have and pour it back into yourself and your life. You will start to see your mind set changing as you allow yourself to be your true self.

    2. Forgive them and create closure for yourself.

    Everyone deserves forgiveness, and holding onto anger is only hurting yourself. This anger you feel toward the person, and the addiction that is consuming them, will make relationships harder in the future.

    I learned this the hard way and carried a lot of resentment into potential new relationships. I also pushed a lot of people away because I was scared to open up. I had put so much of myself into my past relationship and I wasn’t sure if I could go through the heartache again.

    Assuming that every new relationship would be like the last one was ruining anything that was potentially positive.

    If you want to eventually find a healthy new relationship, it’s important to work through your feelings from your old relationship.

    One thing that really helped me was telling my ex-partner how I felt. When I realized this, I was halfway across the world, but I knew I had to do something. So I wrote him a letter. There was something really freeing about writing everything I felt to him, and then hearing his response helped me heal on a different level.

    Sometimes I think we are afraid to tell people how we actually feel, but it can be necessary for our growth. Be kind and be honest and let go of the outcome. You may get the response you’re hoping for, but it’s possible you won’t, and that’s okay. Even if your ex doesn’t give you closure, it is important to create closure for yourself.

    3. Let go.

    I believed for years that my ex would be in my life for the rest of my life. I had this idea in my head about the happy ending we would have. The addiction felt like a roadblock that I couldn’t tear down. I was frustrated that I couldn’t control it. I didn’t realize I was spending my energy trying to remove a roadblock from the wrong path.

    We spend a lot of time and energy trying to control things when in fact it is impossible. We have this idea of how we would like things to be, but sometimes that is not the best path for us. Learning to let go of things I wanted to control freed me from the anxiety I was feeling and lifted a big burden from my shoulders.

    Learning to let go takes time. We are wired to control and plan everything in our lives. For me, meditation, traveling, and writing helped.

    By traveling, I was able to face my fears and get out of my comfort zone. Traveling put me in situations that I could not control. It helped me learn to trust the flow of life, knowing that there would be good things and bad things, and no matter what happened I would make it through.

    Mediation helped even when I was still struggling in my relationship. It brought me to a world beyond the stress and helped root me when I felt my world was spinning in all directions. It helped me to understand that releasing control was the key to peace. It meant that I no longer was tied to worry about what was going to happen, or what happened in the past, and helped me focus on the present.

    Writing has always been an outlet for me. When I write my worries and fears out, they seem to transfer from me to the page. Sometimes reading back after I’ve written them, the problems don’t seem so big anymore and I can take a step back and see more solutions.

    Everyone has a different outlet that helps them let go. You just need to find what works for you. Whatever your outlet is, make sure you are passionate about it and you will you watch your worries fade away.

    4. Follow your dreams.

    It’s time to get excited about life! There’s a good chance that you put your personal growth on hold while in this relationship. Go back and find yourself again.

    About a month after the relationship I realized I was so focused on the negative aspects of the breakup that I wasn’t seeing the potential path in front of me. Realizing that there may be something better out there for me was important for moving forward.

    Separate yourself from the path that you had with your ex-partner and focus on the new path in front of you. Don’t worry too much about finding another relationship. Focus on finding purpose and passion, and love will find you.

    Be someone who is hopeful and excited about the future. Remember, your experiences have made you strong and capable of creating endless possibilities for yourself and the future.

  • What It Means to Love: 9 Steps to a Strong Relationship

    What It Means to Love: 9 Steps to a Strong Relationship

    “Be there. Be open. Be honest. Be kind. Be willing to listen, understand, accept, support, and forgive. This is what it means to love.” ~Lori Deschene

    They say your heart pounds when you’re in love.

    But the very idea of opening up and letting love in can bring on the wrong kind of palpitations.

    Saying yes to love… that’s like standing naked, bare naked, every inch of you on show.

    Completely vulnerable.

    Or so I thought.

    My Impregnable Force Field

     “Of all forms of caution, caution in love is perhaps the most fatal to true happiness.” ~Bertrand Russell

    You see, I was called a few different things growing up. People said I was reserved, quiet, or shy.

    But in truth I was just scared to let anyone in. I felt I needed an impregnable forcefield. To stay safe. To be in control.

    And I needed space. Lots of it.

    Getting close to people, close enough to fall in love, well, that felt way too intense and personal for me back then.

    We didn’t do love in my family growing up. It was busy, busy, busy in our house. Everything was about practicality, working super hard, and getting things done. And done well.

    Adults rarely showed affection with each other—something about it being inappropriate in public, my brain remembers. We were taught not to talk about personal things. Life felt secretive and awkward.

    As an adult, I ached to be loved. It hurt to be so alone.

    It took me a long time to realize that I didn’t really know how to love. And yet, it’s supposed to be an innate trait. Even newborn babies demonstrate the instinct to love, and the need to receive love back.

    But in all my years growing up, love and affection felt awkward, foreign. Love seemed equally dangerous and mysterious at the same time.

    I learned to keep everything inside, and everyone outside.

    In truth, life went wrong precisely because I acted that way. I ended up alone—no lifelong friends, no love in my life. I was lost. Every day felt like an uphill struggle.

    And around me love bloomed, but for others, not for me.

    Eventually I understood that unless I made some changes, I would never know the absolute security of another’s love. I would never hear someone telling me everything would be okay. That they’d be there for me, whatever life threw my way. And I’d never be able to be there for someone else.

    I realized that I needed to start doing these nine things or I would never know what love is.

    1. Be there.

    Love doesn’t grow and flourish because you dress up or make yourself up. All it needs is for you to show up, to be fully present.

    I used to believe soul mates were mythical creatures, as rare as unicorns, and that finding your soul mate was an honest to goodness miracle—one that happened to other people.

    Not true.

    Someone is ready to love you. They’re out there. And they’re looking for you right now. But you have to show up fully to connect with them.

    In the past, I spent a lot of time caught up in my head, paralyzed by my fears and insecurities. When I was focusing all my energy on protecting myself, I wasn’t available to the people around me. You can’t love or be loved when you’re physically there but mentally somewhere else.

    I now know that I need to focus more on the person in front of me than my worries, insecurities, and judgments. Love can only unfold when you get out of your head and get into your heart.

    “When you love someone, the best thing you can offer is your presence. How can you love if you are not there?” ~Thich Nhat Hanh

    2. Be open.

    Love is a powerful force, but you can’t share it if your heart is closed.

    I used to fear the slightest puncture in my protective force field. I worried that if I opened up even a little, it would be the end of me. Somehow staying closed felt like protection. If I let someone in, I couldn’t control what would happen. If I kept everyone out, nothing could go wrong.

    But I learned that you don’t need to expose the deepest parts of yourself all at once to be open to love. You just need to let your defenses down long enough to let someone else in.

    I started by sharing a little about myself—my opinions, my feelings, and my worries. A little at first, I tested others’ reactions to what I shared. But my confidence grew much more quickly than I expected. And you know, not holding back so hard or pretending turned out to be the biggest relief ever.

    “The greatest asset you could own, is an open heart.” ~Nikki Rowe

    3. Be honest.

    Being truthful in love goes further than just not telling lies. It takes being the real you, the wonderfully imperfect you.

    Pretending to be someone you’re not or disguising how you feel sends a worrying message to the person who loves you. Human beings have an inbuilt alarm when they sense someone isn’t telling them the whole truth.

    I had an image of the ‘perfect me,’ and it didn’t include being vulnerable. So I lied about the true me in everything I said and did. I pretended that I didn’t worry, didn’t need help, and that I knew exactly where I was heading in life. Those lies alone alienated some amazingly wonderful and loving people who would have been life-long friends… if I’d let them.

    “Honesty is more than not lying. It is truth telling, truth speaking, truth living, and truth loving.” ~James E. Faust

    4. Be kind.

    I wasn’t kind in the beginning. I was too insecure to let the little things go. A forgotten request felt like rejection. A different opinion felt like an argument. I was also too insecure to accept that it didn’t mean I was loved less.

    For example, one night I’d plucked up the courage to sing in front of a crowd, a small one, but to me it felt like standing on the stage of Carnegie Hall. My significant other muddled the dates and double-booked himself.

    I sang that night without his support from the crowd because he felt he couldn’t let down his double booking. At the time that felt like rejection, and I reacted harshly. In truth, the situation simply said “I know you’ll understand that I need to stand by my promise elsewhere; they need me more right now. I’ll be right next to you next time.” (And they were.)

    Being kind in love means accepting that people can’t always meet your expectations and giving the other person leeway in how they act and respond. It means looking after the other person’s heart even when you’re disappointed.

    “Be kind whenever possible. It is always possible.” ~Dalai Lama

    5. Be willing to listen.

    Love needs to be heard to flourish, that’s pretty obvious. But it took me years to figure out that it was as much my responsibility to listen as to talk.

    Because love is a conversation, not a monologue.

    In the beginning my head was too full of all the things I wanted to explain, my heart too full of all the emotions I wanted to express. And my mouth was too full of all the words I needed heard.

    But I found that when I listened, I learned valuable insights into the other person each and every time. I heard their concerns, self-doubts, and their words of love. I was able to help, support, and feel the growing connection we had. They drew huge comfort from having been heard. Listening fully said “I love you” as clearly as the words themselves.

    Like the night we left the movies, having watched School of Rock with Jack Black. It was supposed to be a comedy, a fun date. I laughed lots, but the other person had to sit through 106 minutes of their painful personal disappointment over not pursuing their dream career in music. I listened hard. I heard all their regret, their self-reproach.

    And I learned a whole relationship’s worth of areas where I could be super-sensitive and supportive in the future.

    Because you can’t speak the language of love until you learn to listen first.

    “The first duty of love is to listen. ” ~Paul Tillich

    6. Be willing to understand.

    Being willing to listen is only half of learning the language of love. The other half is understanding what you hear.

    And that means being open to a different perspective, even an opposite view.

    At first that sounded like I needed to give up what I believed, to forever bow down on the way I saw things.

    Not the case. It meant I needed to learn to see that there could also be an alternative, equally valid viewpoint.

    Understanding in love goes beyond being aware and appreciative of the other person’s stance and beliefs. It takes consciously embracing that you’re one of two, and both your perspectives have a place. Love is big enough to handle different opinions and philosophies.

    So the other person grew up in a different culture, for example. That works for them and the millions of people brought up the same. There must be something in it. Love means appreciating that.

    I learned that speaking your mind doesn’t have to be rude or inflammatory, no matter how directly you say it. In some cultures it’s rude not to! And yet I’d been programed to never disagree or say the ‘wrong thing’ and instead to give the accepted, acquiescent response. Love taught me there’s another way—that it’s more important to be honest and truly understand each other than to simple appease each other.

    “One of the most beautiful qualities of true friendship is to understand and to be understood.” ~Lucius Annaeus Seneca

    7. Be willing to accept.

    Love doesn’t have a complicated vocabulary. All it wants to hear is “That’s okay. I love you for who you are.” Accepting the other person for who they are, however, doesn’t guarantee love will flourish in a relationship. For that to have a chance of happening, you have to accept yourself for who you are as well.

    To let love in, you need to believe you’re worthy of love, that you truly are enough for another’s heart to fall for.

    You need to embrace your human-ness, your less than polished edges, and all your quirks—and theirs, too, in equal measure.

    I had to learn that I didn’t need to be perfect. And I never could be. That I needed help sometimes. And doing my best was plenty.

    I had to accept that about the other person too. I had to step back and see that no matter how large the mess or miscommunication, they’d gone into the situation dripping with good intentions and love.

    That didn’t happen overnight. It took some time, some gritting of teeth initially, and a fair bit of biting my tongue. It felt hard to accept it all for a while, until I truly opened my arms to all their idiosyncrasies, blind spots, and contrary points of view. I would have let those beliefs go years before if I’d known how liberated I would feel when I did.

    Accept that in a relationship you’re one of two wonderful, separate, yet intertwined individuals.

    You can be the amazing you that you are, and they can be their wonderful self too.

     “The greatest gift you can give to others is the gift of unconditional love and acceptance.” ~Brian Tracy

    8. Be willing to support.

    It’s hard to put the other person first when your own emotions are raging.

    I spent years too caught up in the rawness of my own emotions to take into account anyone else’s. I was so busy struggling up my own mountain of troubles that I missed the other person struggling right alongside me.

    We could have pulled each other up if I’d only reached across.

    Support starts with looking out for signs the other one is struggling. It means putting your own battles on hold for a while.

    I learned how to look beyond my thoughts and problems and truly be there for the other person, thank goodness. And our love deepened every time I did.

    “Surround yourself with people who provide you with support and love and remember to give back as much as you can in return.” ~Karen Kain

    9. Be willing to forgive.

    Whenever there are two people involved, there are going to be mistakes and misunderstandings. That’s a given.

    But the truth is, they are simply opportunities for love in disguise.

    My anxious thoughts made me stress over small things for far too long. I’d analyze and imagine a whole scenario around what was a simple error or miscommunication. Like that confused discussion over weekend plans, when I worried that he saw what I’d suggested as dull, and his mix-up was a disguised attempt to avoid having to drag himself along.

    A forgotten tiny promise felt like I didn’t matter. Like that planned cosy evening, just us and a relaxing dinner, that got steamrollered by him agreeing to watch the neighbors’ kids so that the parents could have a special evening instead.

    That hurt.

    Until I learned to forgive.

    Forgiving says, “That mistake is tiny, our love is huge.”

    And it says it just the same for what feels like a big mistake too. It says our love can weather this—really, it’s strong enough.

    And more than that, every time you forgive the other person you’ll find the compassion to forgive yourself too.

    “The reality is people mess up. Don’t let one mistake ruin a beautiful thing.” ~Unknown

    This is what it means to love.

    Imagine opening up your heart and allowing love in.

    Imagine feeling more confident in who you are. Confident enough to be open, honest, and kind in a relationship. To be willing to listen, understand, accept, support, and forgive.

    That impregnable force field that has kept you so alone for so long?

    Throw it out.

    And let love in.

  • What Hurts Us the Most in Unhealthy and Unloving Relationships

    What Hurts Us the Most in Unhealthy and Unloving Relationships

    “Once we make our relationship choices in an adult way, a prospective partner who is unavailable, nonreciprocal, or not open to processing feelings and issues, becomes, by these very facts, unappealing. Once we love ourselves, people no longer look good to us unless they are good for us.” ~David Ricco

    One thing I particularly love is caring about someone and loving them. Being able to do so gives me a great sense of connection, satisfaction, and purpose. It’s fulfilling, life-enhancing, and simply feels wonderful.

    All my life I’ve chased relationships so that I could get the love I need. But I used to struggle with choosing suitable partners.

    For my dreams to become a reality, I needed to choose partners who also wanted what I wanted. I needed people who also wanted to care and love someone—preferably me—and create a life together.

    Instead, I chose emotionally unavailable people who either did not know how to create emotional connections or who simply didn’t want them.

    And so, my dreams never became reality. What I experienced instead were highly distressing and unhealthy relationship dynamics.

    I felt devastated that I wasn’t loved the way I wanted to be loved. I felt unliked and unwanted.

    I may have been in a relationship, but I was, most certainly, alone. My ultimate nightmare. My deepest fear.

    After way too many years in hopeless relationships, I had a huge insight that completely transformed my life and my experience of relationships.

    And all of a sudden it dawned on me…

    My pain in these relationships didn’t come from them not loving me. It came from me not loving them. It came from me loving them less and less with every unloving experience we had together.

    In the beginning of the relationship, the positive, excited, and loving thoughts and feelings I had about them felt wonderful. I enjoyed imagining all the happy and fun times we’d have together. I was excited in their presence because I anticipated passion and intimacy.

    And then none of that happened.

    I felt crushed and disappointed, and yet, I kept soldiering on, wishing that they would change. I was hoping that I could earn their love and finally get the love I had been craving all my life.

    But it didn’t happen.

    Instead, I was called names, lied to, cheated on, dismissed, invalidated, shamed, rejected, and ignored.

    And, without realizing it at the time because I felt too heartbroken about the way my partners behaved toward me, I stopped loving them. These experiences chipped away at my love, hope, and trust, and eventually, I stopped caring.

    I went numb.

    I lived my life and got by just fine on the outside, but there was a void within me. A quiet and hopeless state of surrender threaded through my days, months, and years.

    Until my insight about where my feelings were coming from, I had always believed that my pain was caused by my uncaring and neglectful partners.

    I hadn’t realized that I wasn’t giving myself an opportunity to care and love for someone the way I wanted to by staying with people who clearly weren’t interested in creating healthy and intimate relationships.

    I was staying with partners for whom I had lost all respect, certainly didn’t love anymore, and also no longer cared for. I used to think that I still cared, but I know now that I mistook guilt for care.

    I was so preoccupied with them not loving me that I didn’t even realize that I no longer loved them. And so I stayed. I stayed while being trapped in my codependent conditioning. And if it hadn’t been for my powerful insight, I probably would have continued that soul-destroying relationship pattern.

    Freeing myself from that pattern has allowed me to figure out what I want and then make appropriate choices that enable me to get it.

    I now know that I need to choose people who make it easy for me to love them, and that doesn’t mean that we need to agree on everything and never have arguments. It means that they value and respect the bond we have. It means that together, we keep it safe so we can continue to love and care freely.

    Since then I have created healthy and fulfilling relationships—not just with others but especially with myself, something I had never even wanted in the past but that has been completely transformational for me, my emotional well-being, and surprisingly, for my relationships too.

    I now share my codependency insights so others can free themselves from their codependent conditioning too by having their own realizations and insights. Because that is the only way to finally get the love you need.

  • Family Estrangement: 3 Stories and the Advice You Need to Hear

    Family Estrangement: 3 Stories and the Advice You Need to Hear

    “Home is not a place, it’s a feeling.” ~Cecilia Ahern

    This post is written by three people from different parts of the world who came together to share their story of family estrangement and their choice not to reconcile.

    To the outside world, it seemed none of us were neglected. Our parents were well-educated. We grew up in decent homes, were given good educational opportunities, and had financial support. We looked like we came from perfect families, but….

    Jen’s Story

    On March 24, 2019, I received a chilling text from my sister that Grandma was found unconscious in her home and rushed to the hospital. Her pancreatic cancer had progressed, and it seemed the time Grandma had left was like grains of sand in an hourglass.

    From that moment on, all I could think about was how much I wanted to tell my grandma I loved her, to hold her hand, and to share how grateful I was for all of her love despite being estranged from my parents.

    Without thinking, I quickly jumped into action. As my husband helped me book flights and accommodations, I canceled appointments and made arrangements to make up the work I’d miss so I could spend my grandmother’s final breaths with her.

    At the airport, I made notes about all the things I wanted to tell Grandma. Would I get to see her, or would I be too late? While these thoughts raced through my mind, my sister continued to text me a very grim picture. My thoughts punched me in the stomach as I reminisced over the ways Grandma had made my life wonderful.

    When I was growing up, Grandma was the parent I looked up to. She always had a creative solution for everything. I called her when I felt down, when I needed advice, or when something good happened in my life because she always shared my joy. I always felt encouraged, and so I truly aspired to be like her.

    Because I was so focused on reminiscing on our wonderful times, I didn’t stop to consider the reality of seeing my parents again. At that point, I had not seen them since 2004, had grieved the loss of them in silence as if they had died, and had tried to heal the wounds of an abusive childhood.

    When I entered my grandmother’s hospital room, her eyes were closed, and she looked very gray. I took this moment in, just being alone with her, and then suddenly she opened her eyes. I could see her face fill with so much joy, but then just as quickly it suddenly turned to intense rage.

    “You are the last person I wanted to see!” she exclaimed, pulling the blankets around herself. “What if you run into your mother—what if you upset the family?”

    I was stunned. I hadn’t thought of any of these things because my mind was so focused on her.

    “Would you like me to leave?” I whispered.

    “No dear, I am glad that you’re here, but I don’t want you upsetting the family.”

    My grandmother was right. I hadn’t taken the time to reflect on how I would respond to seeing my parents again, what I’d say, or how I’d choose to engage with them. I also hadn’t considered how they might engage with me.

    No sooner than I realized this, suddenly, my mother walked past my grandmother’s hospital room. Without thinking, I rushed over to hug her. I asked her if she was okay with me being there, and we had a short, respectful conversation.

    But, after our interaction, I began to feel physically ill. My body tightened, and I found it hard to breathe properly. Feelings of deep longing washed over me, and I found myself fantasizing about having a supportive adult relationship with both of my parents again.

    Later that day, in a flight of emotion, I called my parents and had a decent conversation with my father. I gave him my phone number and told him I would be willing to reconnect again. Looking back, I see this was a detrimental mistake—a mistake that filled me with hurt and longing.

    During my visit, I noticed when I was not with my grandmother, I became preoccupied with false hope. A strong desire came over me wishing my parents would call me. I was hoping they’d also apologize for the hurt that they had caused me over the course of my life, and that this time, maybe things would be different. I fantasized about my parents taking an interest in my life without judgment.

    Had I really taken the time to reflect on how I would respond to the situation away from the emotion of the moment, I would not have gotten caught up in false hope or fairy-tale notions of reconciliation.

    I would have thought back to why I made the choice to cut off contact with my parents in the first place, and that door would have forever remained closed. I would have accepted that behind that door is a past that has shaped me, that continues to haunt me, and still has some power to hurt me in the present if I were to open it again.

    Magdalena’s Story

    My phone pinged in December 2019 notifying me of a text message. I jumped a little, and then even more so when I realized that the message was from Dad. I pressed the “Read” button cautiously:

    “Is it possible we can meet up face-to-face to talk about this situation?” the message asked.

    For a moment, I thought it sounded like a reasonable request, but then all of a sudden, a million emotions raced through my body like fear, hope, anger, longing, and worry.

    Prior to receiving Dad’s text, I had become increasingly aware over the years that my relationship with my parents hadn’t been healthy. My parents’ reactions to challenges had ranged from threats of suicide and physical threats of violence against my partner and me to emotional manipulation.

    Since I had become a parent myself, it became abundantly clear that my ideas on parenting clashed with theirs, which is not necessarily uncommon; however, I became more aware of the dysfunction within our family and decided to do something about it by choosing limited contact in March 2019.

    As I sat there, pondering Dad’s text, I considered lots of scenarios: Could things be different this time? Could we possibly compromise? What could I do to make this easier? But, I also noticed just how cautious I was because, sadly, previous attempts at reconciliation had disintegrated badly into unsolved drama, severe insults, and horrible disrespect.

    I regularly felt my parents diminished and ridiculed my concerns. Their sense of entitlement was always so overwhelming, which simply made balanced discussions impossible.

    Over the years, I’d been patient with my parents’ dysfunctional behavior and my mother’s mental health, which had significantly deteriorated, but she refused to admit it. My therapist has highlighted several times that, while having a mental health problem is common, it doesn’t excuse poor treatment of others, and therefore, my mother will always be responsible for her actions, both good and bad.

    Meanwhile, my father has clearly crumbled under the weight of my mother’s emotional instability, yet he continues to support her unhealthy and dysfunctional behavior as a means of safeguarding himself.

    Again, I thought that if I agreed to respond to his text and meet, I would resolve not to engage in any provocations, but rather calmly listen to what they have to say while attempting to positively direct the focus of the conversation. As I sat in trepidation, I felt somewhat hopeful yet wary.

    I decided to respond to my father’s text and ask to meet somewhere public to minimize the risk of great drama. My parents agreed and I started to feel hopeful.

    Unfortunately, it became clear almost immediately that my mother had an alternative agenda. Almost immediately, she told me I am a disgrace and my own children will one day turn on me as I have on her. She called me an evil witch and a marble-hearted fiend.

    The insults she bombarded me with slipped out of her mouth easily and effortlessly leaving me to shake while lowering my head. It was obvious she hated my cool response, and it felt like my father was clueless as to what was happening in front of his eyes.

    True-to-form, my father accused me of insulting my mother due to my silence. I explained I had genuinely come to meet them with the hope of starting to build some bridges, and that it felt like, just as my father and I were starting to make those tiny steps, my mother decided to deliver some killer blows, which ultimately derailed everything.

    My father told me I am a waste of space and I never had any intention at reconciling at all. Together, they both agreed they’ve created a demon while dramatically walking out of the café. That pretty much concluded the “peace negotiations.”

    I sit in a shocked state again. I question, why did I do this to myself again? The answer is, I had fallen prey to my dreams of wanting joyful Christmases with my whole family, as well as wishing for simple picnics in the garden where I had played as a kid.

    Now, I just feel stuck. I realize I miss not having parents with all my heart but, I can’t have any contact with them because it is too damaging. It’s time to acknowledge that while relationships can be difficult, healthy relationships don’t play out like this.

    CJG’s Story

    “Could there ever be a genuine chance of reconciling with my parents,” I asked my therapist in January 2020.

    He reminds me, “If you want to reconcile with your family, remember there’ll always be a ‘hit’ for every kiss you get. So, keep in mind, it’s kiss-hit, kiss-hit.” Taking that in, I say, “I’m just too old to take the hits anymore. I only want kisses.

    I’ve been estranged from my family since 2018. It’s been an ongoing vacillating back-and-forth of wondering how it would be to reconcile. Estrangement has been the hardest decision I’ve made, but choosing not to reconcile is harder. Despite this struggle, I’ve chosen to remain estranged.

    I didn’t think I was unloved as a child because my father was extremely affectionate, said “I love you,” and attended my sporting competitions. Nightly, my mother made sure my homework was done correctly, and we sat down as a family to have homemade dinners cooked by my grandmother or mother.

    My household felt every bit “family,” but it was also a place full of tension, unsaid thoughts, extreme stress, debilitating confusion, radical rage, and countless secrets.

    Growing up I overlooked the weeks my mother would ignore me for no reason, despite me begging her to tell me how I could fix whatever I’d done. I’d apologize profusely while sobbing and pleading with her to speak to me so I would feel loved again.

    Instead, she prided herself on knowing she could ignore an eight-year-old child without any reason. Suddenly, she’d just start talking to me as though nothing had ever happened. And, like most children, I’d forget the pain she’d caused over those weeks.

    Nightly, my father watched the Playboy channel on the family television. He’d rush me and my sibling off to bed very early so he could get his fix.

    Most nights, I’d have nightmares, groggily walk down the stairs in hopes of some comfort, but would be yelled at instead because I’d caught glimpses of the explicit images my parents were watching. Confused and not soothed, I’d walk back up to my room and wet the bed. The following morning, my father would shout and degrade me for yet another bedwetting incident.

    I’ve always been mindful not to shame my parents. I was trained to “never air our dirty laundry.” Yet, it never dawned on me just how much “dirty laundry” we actually had. I didn’t realize what they were so afraid of and why it was imperative to condition us to ensure we were never exposed. I just assumed all the stuff happening in our home happened in everybody’s else’s homes, too.

    Parents like mine are more concerned with what the “neighbors think” than how their children feel. They work hard keeping up appearances rather than emotionally supporting their children. They live out the fantasy of having the perfect family while destroying it with double-standards, hypocrisy, betrayal, and cognitive dissonance.

    I was actively a part of this family-fantasy till 2018. I ignored physical and emotional cues, as well as frightening memories for years, to be loyal and loving to my family. I focused only on the “good times” and suppressed abuses, covert sabotaging, and extreme enmeshment.

    I feel heartbroken and ashamed this is the truth of the family I grew up with and wanted to know for the rest of my days. Despite admitting these truths, I’ll always love them, and that’s what makes it hard not to reconcile.

    Our Advice to Readers

    If you’re struggling over reconciling, you’re not alone. Your parents helped make this inevitable choice with you through whatever behaviors they exhibited that ultimately brought on the estrangement.

    Some advice to remember:

    Keep your “why” handy. Write a list of reasons you feel can’t have a relationship with your family. Review this “why” list often. Your “why” may include displays of stonewalling, silent treatment, feeling physically ill after contact with them, severe abuse, covert sabotaging, betrayal, gossiping, enmeshment, and triangulating, for example.

    Leave out the “shoulds.” If you’re saying things like, “I should reconcile with my family,” or, “I should reunite because society tells me I should,” then try to feel twice.

    Feeling twice is tuning into your body rather than your logic. Here are some ways to help you do that: Close your eyes, place your hand on your stomach or heart. Notice your body’s cues when you think of reconciling. Are your palms sweaty? Is your heart racing? Do you swallow heavily? Do you feel a sense of dread and panic or do you feel a sense of joy and fulfillment over reconciling?

    Take your time. It can be hard if you have a family member who is ill, aging, or dying, but it’s important to remember that estrangement did not happen overnight. You made this choice after years of ongoing toxicity and dysfunction. So, go slowly with this process, too.

    Be realistic about what could happen if you reconnect and envision honestly the best- and worst-case scenarios. Take time to reflect over a period of weeks. Consulting with a therapist can help, as this process can bring up feelings of pain and longing.

    Ask what’s “value-added?” What’s the emotional value added if you reconcile with your parents? What’s the value added if you don’t?

    Tune into the truth: Do you see any evidence that the person or people you’re estranged with have grown? Do your values and their values align or not? Will reuniting with them compromise your healing plan?

    Lastly, make a list of non-negotiables. Reconciliation can only happen if your family agrees to committing to your list and understands the consequences if they violate your deal-breakers.

    We have all walked away from our families of origin, let go of the hope for fairy-tale ending, and fought to discard society’s romanticized notions of reconciliation. We have found peace, our health and well-being have improved, and we all lead happy, meaningful lives. You can too.

  • When You Don’t Like Being Nice: What to Do Instead

    When You Don’t Like Being Nice: What to Do Instead

    “Don’t trade your authenticity for approval.” ~Unknown

    As a nice person, I am often conflicted because sometimes I don’t enjoy being nice. Sometimes I act nice out of moral obligation or because I’m trying to be consistent with my perceived identity.

    Do you view yourself as “nice”? Do others describe you as “nice”? Do you always enjoy being “nice”? If you are unsure how you are perceived by others, ask friends and family to describe you.

    I’ve been told how nice I am all my life, by family, friends, coworkers, and even bosses. It was a huge part of my personal identity. When you have a perceived identity of who you are, you’ll unconsciously adjust your behaviors to reflect that identity. For me, that meant being nice and acting like a nice person, even if it wasn’t what I wanted.

    Here are some questions to help you identify if you have any conflicts with being nice:

    * Do you do nice things when you really don’t want to?

    * Do others take advantage of your niceness?

    * Have you experienced social pressure to be nice, especially as a woman?

    * Are you a pushover? Are you a people-pleaser?

    * Do you ever get upset, frustrated, or resentful when you are nice?

    * Do you sometimes feel like your niceness is not really you?

    * Is being nice at the top of your self-identity list?

    * Do you ever experience conflict between your nice identity and your other identities such as achiever, assertive, or leader?

    * Do you sometimes not feel proud of being nice?

    If your answered yes to any of these questions, then continue reading.

    What does “being nice” mean to you?

    One day someone asked me this question. It was very relevant to me since I have tried to act nice for most of my life despite experiencing several of the conflicts listed above.

    I developed three questions to help me define “being nice” in my own terms:

    1. Who is your “nice” role model, and do you want to be like them?
    2. What other words describe being nice to you?
    3. Should you act or be nice?

    First question: Who is your “nice” role model, and do you want to be like them?

    When I picture the extreme “nice,” I see Mother Theresa of Calcutta. She was a nun and missionary who lead several organizations to help very poor and sick people. Her charities worked with counselling groups, orphanages, schools, mobile clinics, and people with HIV, tuberculosis, and leprosy across the world.

    She was also criticized for the poor medical care in her organizations, for her stance against abortion and contraception, and her belief in the importance of suffering. She wasn’t agreeable nor compassionate all the time.

    Though I really admire her life’s work, I certainly am not and don’t want to be like Mother Theresa of Calcutta. I enjoy comfort, I am not selfless, and I don’t want to spend my days working with the dying.

    Second question: What other words describe being nice to you?

    Once we define “nice” in a way that resolves the conflicts from the questions above, we can find our own definition of being nice while still staying true to who we really are.

    Is being nice the same as being kind? Generous? Giving? Non-judgmental? Empathetic? Respectful? Selfless? Polite? Caring? Passive? Friendly? Likable? Compassionate? Considerate? Generous? Here are some definitions as per google dictionary to reflect on:

    * Nice: pleasant; agreeable, satisfactory

    * Kindness: the quality of being friendly, generous, and considerate

    * Considerate: careful not to cause inconvenience or hurt to others

    * Caring: displaying kindness and concern for others

    * Polite: having or showing behavior that is respectful and considerate of other people

    * Respect: due regard for the feelings, wishes, rights, or traditions of others

    * Selfless: concerned more with the needs and wishes of others than with one’s own

    * Passive: accepting or allowing what happens or what others do, without active response or resistance

    * Friendly: kind and pleasant

    * Likable: pleasant, friendly and easy to like

    * Empathetic: showing an ability to understand and share the feelings of another

    * Compassionate: feeling or showing sympathy and concern for others

    * Generous: showing a readiness to give more of something, as money or time, than is strictly necessary or expected

    * Courtesy: the showing of politeness in one’s attitude and behavior toward others

    * Non-judgmental: avoiding moral judgments (having or displaying an excessively critical point of view)

    I decided that I don’t want to be pleasant and agreeable all the time. I want to be free to dissent, to challenge the mass opinion, and to be authentic.

    For me, being nice is about having respect. It is about having consideration for other people’s opinions, feelings, desires, and rights while still remaining respectful to myself. I can be respectful of others and myself at all times and still feel authentic.

    I can respectfully disagree. I can respectfully take care of my own needs. I can respectfully assert myself. I can respectfully listen and interact. I can respect differences. I can practice respect in almost any situation.

    But I can’t and won’t always be selfless, generous, likable, empathetic, compassionate, friendly, non-judgmental, caring, kind, nor polite. I may choose to do so in certain situations when it is congruent with my authentic self, but I won’t commit to doing it all the time. You shouldn’t have to deny your own needs nor your interests to be nice.

    Third question: Should you act or be nice?

    There is also a difference between displaying concern for others and being concerned for others. You can be concerned and not display it, and you can also force yourself to display concern but not be concerned. But you can’t force yourself to be concerned when you aren’t. The same way you can’t force yourself to feel and be nice if you’re not.

    When you act nice and don’t mean it, you are inconsistent with who you are at the core. That is hard to sustain for long periods of time. And eventually it erodes trust with others.

    You are human, and therefore you are entitled to have flaws and to not be a spiritual hero. You are entitled to be nice on some days and not nice in others. You are entitled to your needs and desires. You are entitled to put yourself first, to not be generous when you don’t want to be generous, and to not be likable when it doesn’t feel right, as long as you do it without disrespecting others.

    Find your real definition of nice. It shouldn’t feel hard, forceful, or negative. Remember that even your role models were not nice, caring, and selfless with everyone at all times. Examine what makes sense for you in most situations. Don’t define your fixed identity with occasional behaviors. It will only confuse you, reduce your self-confidence, and reduce the real impact that you can bring to the world.

  • The Most Important Lessons We Can Take from This Pandemic

    The Most Important Lessons We Can Take from This Pandemic

    EDITOR’S NOTE: You can find a number of helpful coronavirus resources and all related Tiny Buddha articles here.

    “And the people stayed home. And read books, and listened, and rested, and exercised, and made art, and played games, and learned new ways of being, and were still. And listened more deeply. Some meditated, some prayed, some danced. Some met their shadows. And the people began to think differently.” ~Kitty O’Meara

    While this pandemic is turning out to be a very confusing and difficult time for many people, it is undoubtedly giving humanity an incredibly rare opportunity to learn some challenging lessons. I believe these lessons will trigger a much-needed change of perspective for how we do things on this planet and will hopefully enable us to turn over a new leaf.

    For so long it felt that we had been living in a way that went against everything that is natural and sacred.

    We had been living in a way that neither serves humans nor the natural world, and yet we continued on this path seemingly powerless to stop what we were doing.

    It’s as if we were all part of this machine that kept on chugging along, but no one could find the stop button. Well, that stop button has arrived and it’s not like anything we could have ever imagined.

    Over the last several weeks we have seen a massive change in our priorities, and the economy has echoed this to a great degree. Sales of food and health products have gone through the roof, while sales of clothes, makeup, cars, etc, (you know, the stuff we don’t really need but think we need to attain some kind of happiness) has plummeted.

    In my personal life, I can feel that my priorities have massively shifted due to this pandemic, and it has been eye-opening to see how so much can change in such a short space of time.

    I recently found myself looking at pictures I had taken a couple months ago of me and my daughter out and about, and suddenly this strange thought came to my mind: In some way, life will never be the same again.

    I think most of us are wondering what the future will hold and how this pandemic will change the way we do things, but I feel there is no way to escape the change in perspective that it will bring.

    This is our silver lining, and it will hopefully allow us to look back on this time and feel there were some benefits.

    Here are six valuable lessons I think we will learn from this.

    1. The power of stillness.

    Our lives were put on pause, many were forced to work from home, and we can longer travel unless necessary.

    With this, we were given the power of stillness and the opportunity to unapologetically slow down. There is no other situation other than an outbreak of a virus where our world would come to such a pause. This will most likely be an opportunity that we never get again (and ironically, we are all hoping we won’t ever get again).

    As such, now more than ever—for those who are still under lockdown—this is the time to go within and be still with yourself. Heal, remove emotional blockages, meditate, and practice yoga. Take this opportunity to do the inner work that you previously had no time for. If ever there was time for personal transformation, it’s now.

    And as the lockdowns begin to lift perhaps we will see the value in living a quieter and more peaceful life.

    2. Friends and family mean everything.

    Probably the most difficult part of this journey for most people is being separated from their friends, family, and maybe even a romantic partner.

    I once heard someone say that “connection is something that all humans need, but we are just not very good at it.” Who here feels that maybe they took human interaction for granted before this? I will raise my hand to that.

    Connection is something that is so critical for our emotional and mental well-being, yet it something we often take for granted.

    After this is over, I think people will reach out to each other like never before and everyone will be so overjoyed to see their loved ones again. And just maybe we might be a little bolder and share our smiles and greetings with those we don’t even know.

    3. Nature continues to thrive even if the world has shutdown.

    For many during this lockdown, including myself, nature has been a life saver. Whether we spend time in our garden, walk through a park, do gardening, grow food (I grant that not everyone has been able to enjoy these luxuries), or simply poke our head out of our window for some fresh air and sunlight, the serenity of nature has been something we can rely on. While the world stopped, nature remained constant.

    Incredible stories have also emerged about wild animals taking over quiet city centers and dolphins returning to waters that they haven’t been spotted in for hundreds of years. Nature never stops, and the sad truth is that less human activity has meant that nature has been able to thrive in a way that most of us haven’t seen in our lifetime.

    Yet, maybe seeing nature in full force with all its beauty will prompt us to create new systems where humans and nature can thrive together. I can’t bear to think of losing our new fresh air or the animals that have finally felt safe enough to come closer to us. Perhaps this will be the big wake up call we needed.

    Either way, I believe humans will make a renewed relationship with nature and just hopefully this might lead to big environmental change.

    4. Material goods mean nothing.

    As I have already mentioned, this pandemic has forced us to completely rearrange our priorities, and I can’t help but feel this is a good thing. What good are material things when your health, safety, and access to food are jeopardized? They mean zero at times like this, which I think just helps us put into perspective exactly what we should be prioritizing in our lives.

    Since realizing this virus was going to be something that was very serious, I have barely bought anything that isn’t absolutely essential. And of course, this doesn’t mean that I am done with buying beautiful clothes or things to make my life more enjoyable, but it has cast a light on how little I actually need and what truly makes me happy.

    5. Our health is gold.

    Health is something we so easily take for granted until it is at risk. The possibility of our health taking a downturn has made many of us pay more attention to our nutrition intake and cleanliness. Some of us have even been taking preventative health measures and steps to boost our immune system.

    If we have a working body with no serious physical ailments, we should be beyond grateful!

    6. Essential workers are heroes.

    Every good story needs its hero, and in the story that is playing out on our planet right now, our heroes are of course key workers—healthcare workers, delivery drivers, bus and train drivers, and those who work in the supermarkets and food distribution. These are the people who are keeping everything going and right now risking their health and safety every day to do it.

    In the past, so many of these professions were deemed as jobs that require little skill or don’t deserve much pay, but right now there is no saying what we would do without these people.

    I hope in the future these professions shall be seen with high esteem, and the soldiers fighting on the frontline will be remembered. If this pandemic is teaching us one thing, it is not to take anyone or anything for granted.

    What Will Be the Outcome of All This?

    I think everyone is wondering what exactly will come out of this crisis and whether we will really change our ways. Will we learn the lessons or go back to the way we were before—our unhealthy ‘normality’?

    This is yet to be seen. However, as individuals we can make our own choices, and it is our individual choice that will make all the difference.

    Let us learn from this situation and do what we can to preserve nature, to bring more stillness into our lives, and to never take people or our health and safety for granted again. As always, individual change and transformation will always triumph.

  • Why I Want to Stop Judging and How This Opens My Heart

    Why I Want to Stop Judging and How This Opens My Heart

    “The quicker you are in attaching verbal or mental labels to things, people, or situations, the more shallow and lifeless your reality becomes, and the more deadened you become to reality.” ~Eckhart Tolle

    Things are hard right now, aren’t they? When I first started writing this article about my goal to drop labels so I could live without judgment, I was thinking I didn’t want to judge people at the gym based on what their T-shirts said.

    Now I’m trying not to judge people in my local community and around the country for taking actions that make me feel afraid for my safety and the safety of my family. It’s quite a different kettle of fish, let me tell you.

    In some ways, though, this experience has clarified something for me: We are all human and we are all doing our best. And judging someone else’s best, someone else’s beliefs, does nothing but harm us.

    I’ve spent a long time trying to become aware, trying to become more conscious, trying to practice gratitude and compassion.

    But this pandemic, it’s testing me.

    When I read a news article about people in my town caravanning down Main Street, protesting the stay-at-home orders, I admit my mind immediately jumped in with negative labels and assumptions.

    And I bet those same people caravanning would judge me in an unflattering way, as well.

    That’s the thing with judgment—it cuts both ways and there is no final answer. There’s no way to know who is “right.” Likely because we all have glimmers of truth in our belief systems.

    I also find myself listening to the news and calling people names, both out loud to my husband and inside my own head, which is just another way of labeling and judging them. It makes my insides feel awful, but I’ve noticed my fear makes it hard for me to stop.

    Since I don’t want to spend my entire existence during this crazy time wrapped up in a ball of nerves, worries, and anger, though, I’m realizing it’s more important now than ever to try to let go of labels.

    But how?? How can I let go when I think that guy over there is doing something stupid, something that might literally kill me?

    There’s one thing I’m certain of, and it’s that I feel better, calmer, and more present when I stop listening to and believing the chatter of my mind. When I go outside and take a walk, when my mind is busy admiring the flowers rather than tearing down the politicians, I’m at peace.

    I want more of that. Fewer labels. More compassion. So here’s how I’m currently encouraging myself to let go of judgments.

    I’m reminding myself that labeling helps nothing. Nothing at all. Whether you’re labeling people who want everything to stay closed for a long time as ridiculous snowflakes or judging the leader of a city who wants everything re-opened right now as a right-wing nut, you’re not helping.

    Judging other people won’t make you feel better, not really. It may temporarily make your ego feel self-important, or smart, or special, but if you’re in touch with yourself and your real feelings, it will just leave you feeling empty.

    When I judge, I get angry. When I get angry, I’m not compassionate or kind. I’m not calm and available with my kid. And all of this negative energy would be significantly lessened if I simply accepted people for what and who they are.

    Accepting our differences and other people’s opinions doesn’t mean taking no action, though. It just means taking action from a place of peace rather reacting from anger or fear. It means putting yourself in their shoes for a moment.

    Instead of commenting on someone’s Facebook post during a fit of rage (which will help nothing), take some deep breaths, then assess what the actual problem is.

    Can you do anything about it? Can you organize a petition or take other actions to protect yourself and your own family? If you can, go ahead and do it from a level-headed place.

    Judging someone from your home computer and getting riled up doesn’t help anything or anyone. Remember, these are people, too.

    I’m realizing that labeling is judging, plain and simple.

    You label someone as with you or against you, as old or young, as sick or healthy, as pretty or ugly. You label yourself as too wrinkly or too saggy, too nervous or too loud.

    They are all just words. Look at yourself and let your mind be still. Look at that person with the offensive (to you!) opinion and let it wash over you rather than tearing that person down in your mind.

    See that your mind is busy, busy, busy giving out comments and justifying why they’re necessary, when in reality it’s not helping anyone.

    I’m observing without the labels.

    I’m also noticing my judgments without labeling them.

    I would be embellishing the truth considerably if I told you I’m already really good at looking at things, especially other people with differing opinions about the way this pandemic should be handled, without labeling them.

    However, as part of this process I’m giving myself compassion. When I notice that I’m labeling someone or something, (She’s trying to do what!? Why he is saying that, it’s so dangerous! How did we get in this horrible position??), I simply stop.

    I take the time to notice that I’m making judgments without labeling myself as “not good at this” or “never going to change.” A huge shift like this takes time, and getting down on myself certainly will not make the process more enjoyable.

    I’m consciously inviting myself to notice the present moment.

    When I start judging others, it takes me out of enjoying what’s happening around me.

    Instead of relishing the smell of baked ziti in the oven, I’m grousing about what I just read online. Instead of appreciating the brightness of my daughter’s laugh, I’m mentally worrying about her smearing jelly all over her shirt. Instead of feeling the warmth of my husband’s hug, I’m inwardly grimacing at the smell of the paint on his t-shirt.

    I’m simply not there when I’m in my mind, labeling every little thing. And current life events have made that even more noticeable.

    Instead of getting sad about living so much of my life in judgment, though (which is just another label!), I’m going to feel appreciative that I’ve arrived at this point.

    I’m going to take a deep breath and come back to right now. I’m going to spend as much time as I can simply being in the present moment.

    Being in the present moment also makes these circumstances easier to deal with. Instead of worrying when it will be over, or what tomorrow will be like, I can simply live in the now, my mind clear, my heart open.

  • Why We Feel Lonely and What to Do About It

    Why We Feel Lonely and What to Do About It

    “At the center of your being you have the answer; you know who you are and you know what you want.” ~Lau Tzu

    With social distancing measures in place in response to the new coronavirus, many of us have a lot more time on our hands, while also being isolated.

    This may also mean you’re feeling loneliness more intensely than you’ve experienced it before.

    This is a good thing! Challenges can help us to understand ourselves on a much deeper level than we would have if we weren’t challenged—precisely because our feelings are more intense.

    Loneliness is not new. It was around long before COVID-19, and it will be here long after this phase of isolation passes. So, whether you’re used to feeling lonely, or if it’s something new for you, this is an opportunity to connect to your heart and grow. But first you need to understand the true source of your loneliness.

    Alone vs. Lonely

    Some of us can be on our own and feel very comfortable and peaceful, while others will feel lonely when they’re by themselves. Then there are people who feel alone and lonely even when they’re with friends or surrounded by people.

    There’s a big difference between being alone and feeling lonely.

    Being alone is simply being on your own.

    Feeling lonely is your experience, which can happen regardless of whether you’re on your own or not.

    What is loneliness?

    Loneliness is a feeling we experience when we get caught up in judgments and insecurities about ourselves or our relationships.

    You might feel lonely because you feel like you have no one to talk to, or no one understands you, because you feel different to everyone else. I resonate with that!

    You might feel lonely because you deeply desire to connect with other people, even if just through Skype or Zoom, but maybe it feels emotionally unsafe to do so. You’ve seen how people can treat each other, or you’ve been hurt before, so now you’re not sure if you can trust people. I’ve been there!

    Maybe you want to have deep and meaningful conversations with people, but all you get is shallow everyday chit chat. Yes, that gets tiring very fast! You’re trying to connect with someone, but you feel alone because there’s no depth of connection.

    I’ve often wished people would either speak from their heart or just enjoy the silence.

    Maybe you’re very sensitive to other people’s energy (which is a superpower, just FYI), but the only way you currently know how to manage it and feel safe is to be on your own, even though you crave connection.

    Or maybe you feel left out because the people around you all like the same things, but you don’t.

    Sports, Connection, and Fitting In

    From my mid-teens through to mid-twenties, when many of my friends and the people I knew were starting to drink, smoke, and party, I really did feel alone.

    I loved playing sports. The one that excited me the most was ice hockey. Growing up in Australia it definitely wasn’t one of our most popular sports, but I loved it! The speed, dynamism, intensity, and flow really brought something out of me. Now that I live in Canada, it’s everywhere.

    This competitive team sport brought a sense of connection that also touched my heart. The feeling of relying on each other during a game made me feel much bigger than myself. Being connected on a deeper level, knowing how everyone would move or where they’d be on the ice without having to think about it, made me feel so alive and connected.

    I have very fond memories of playing and training with my teammates—the intensity of emotion during a game and then the ability to let it go afterward.

    But for me there was a split. I felt this sense of connection during a match or training, but then there was a loneliness that came after. Because I didn’t care for any of the usual post-game celebrations of drinking and going out to bars or clubs. I much preferred to come home after a game and relax and watch a movie.

    Knowing they were all out after a game sometimes made me feel lonely. I tried doing the drinking thing a handful of times in an attempt to fit in, but it never stuck. I just didn’t like it! So I didn’t do it.

    I’d sometimes go out with friends and just drink water while they drank alcohol. But this wasn’t much better, because I didn’t like what it did to people, and I didn’t like being around the energy of drinking.

    So even when I did go out, I still felt alone because I just couldn’t connect on this level.

    What I really wanted after a match was my quiet time.

    I was still in my early twenties when I accepted that I just preferred time on my own, but it didn’t stop that feeling of occasional loneliness.

    The interesting thing about feeling lonely is that you’re not alone in feeling it. Even though it might feel like that for you, it’s a common experience that touches most people’s life at some point.

    Loneliness and Disconnection

    When we experience loneliness, it’s only possible because of an underlying feeling of disconnection. We often associate loneliness with being disconnected from other people, which is true, but to understand loneliness, we need to realize that it all starts with how disconnected we are from ourselves.

    When I’d come home after a hockey game while my teammates went out drinking, I’d feel lonely because some part of me wanted to maintain that feeling of connection with them. Part of me wanted to be able to do what they wanted to do (go out and drink), but at the same time part of me had no desire to do it.

    As long as I judged myself for not going out with them, I’d feel lonely. I wasn’t accepting myself, which created a feeling of disconnection inside me.

    But as I came to accept that I was different, and I liked time on my own and a quiet night at home, the feeling of loneliness started to fade away. This self-acceptance got me out of my head and back into my heart, where I could feel a peacefulness start to emerge as I simply enjoyed my quiet night stretching or watching a movie without any self-judgment.

    Being quietly present with myself, enjoying what I enjoyed, brought a feeling of connectedness inside me—the thing I thought I’d get by going out with my teammates after a game.

    This wasn’t one incredible moment of realization after which I never felt lonely again. It was a gradual process. There were times when I’d come home while my friends went out, where I’d still feel that familiar loneliness return.

    But I’d gained an understanding of why I felt lonely—a disconnection from myself through a lack of self-acceptance. In times when the feeling of loneliness would return, if I’d come back to being present with myself the loneliness would again fade… like a muscle that needed to be strengthened.

    When I reflect on this time in my life, I always find it fascinating to realize that my friends never judged me for not wanting to go out. I was always welcome to join them. They’d accepted me for who I was. It was only me who didn’t accept me, and that was a source of disconnection and loneliness.

    Finding Connection

    This doesn’t mean I became a hermit with no human interaction. Yes, I can feel very at peace on my own, but I also love connecting with people. You just won’t find me doing it in an environment where people are getting drunk.

    I love having deep conversations. I love connecting and getting to know people. If I’m talking to you, I want to know who you are. I have a never-ending curiosity to understand what makes people who they are, and a sensitivity to feel others’ pain.

    When we experience loneliness, there’s a wanting to feel connected and connect with others, but the disconnection inside us creates a closing in our heart, and we get caught ruminating about the thing we don’t have (connection).

    The thoughts will fuel more emotional reaction and disconnection, which then create even more thoughts—a vicious cycle that can go on and on continually feeding itself.

    And then when we encounter other people and have an opportunity to connect, we might not even be able to be present with them because we’re still caught up in our heads, judging ourselves and our experiences.

    When we feel more present and accepting of ourselves, we can also feel a wanting to connect with others, but now there’s an openness in our heart.

    Our heart is the part of us that feels connection. Connection to our self—the essence of who we truly are, beyond the dramas and stories that fill our mind—and connection to other people, animals, nature, and creation.

    When we’re present and connected to our heart, we might be peacefully content on our own, or we may be inspired to go and connect with people. We don’t have to feel lonely to want to connect with people. The goal is to allow choices like these to flow from our heart.

    If you’ve been through challenging or traumatic life situations that have left you feeling broken, ashamed, or otherwise disconnected from yourself, it’s possible you have a harder time connecting to your heart. That’s okay.

    It’s also possible you have a hard time connecting with other people, perhaps because you’ve never felt a sense of belonging, and you live in a constant state of judgment and insecurity. That’s okay too.

    If you start by creating a connection to yourself, it will be much easier to connect with others, and in the times when you’re on your own you won’t feel that same overwhelming sense of loneliness.

    What can you do to connect with yourself when you’re feeling lonely?

    Meditate

    Meditation teaches us how to find a space of quiet inside our self. A simple stillness and acceptance.

    We don’t realize the heavy burden and the impact of our thoughts and self-judgments until we have a moment of inner quiet. In the quiet we can comprehend the burden we carried because by contrast it’s not there.

    Over the years of teaching meditation, one of the words I’ve noticed that people often express when they start a consistent practice of meditation is “relief.” A relief from the burden they didn’t realize they were carrying.

    The quiet relief brings an opening in the heart and a feeling of connection. But remember, it does take practice (like learning any other skill).

    Gentle yoga

    I’ve always preferred very slow and mindful holding of postures. It allows us to bring our awareness into our body through being present to our physical sensations. Remember, loneliness is a feeling with its own sensations.

    Often when we experience intense emotions we disconnect from our body, because we become caught in our thoughts (fueled by the emotions), which amplifies everything. Reconnecting to our body helps us to anchor ourselves into feeling—and it’s the feeling that will help slow the thinking (and overthinking).

    Connecting our body through feeling (not thinking about it or judging it) helps shift us to a place of acceptance.

    Follow the feeling

    Take time to just sit quietly and be present with your loneliness. No judgment. Just feeling it.

    If your mind wanders into thoughts, stories, emotional reactions, or dramas, just acknowledge that and bring your awareness back to the feeling of loneliness. This is where the practice of meditation is so valuable, because it teaches you the skill of how to simply be present.

    If you can allow yourself to consciously feel and be present with the feeling of loneliness (not wallow in it), you’ll learn more about the source of your loneliness. It may not always be comfortable, but it’s about being present and accepting of what is actually there for you.

    Be curious

    With all that you do, approach it with an attitude of non-judgmental curiosity. This helps ensure you won’t be too serious or hard on yourself. Curiosity makes things more enjoyable.

    And remember, you’re not alone!

    There are other’s just like you (well, not exactly like you, you’re unique!), who have these same thoughts and feelings and who are experiencing loneliness as a result.

    As you come to understand more about your own experience of loneliness, you’ll discover you understand more about others. Loneliness is inherent to the human experience and the world needs more people who understand.

    Understanding is what brings us together. Understanding is a form of connection.

  • We’re All in This Together, and That’s a Beautiful Thing

    We’re All in This Together, and That’s a Beautiful Thing

    EDITOR’S NOTE: You can find a number of helpful coronavirus resources and all related Tiny Buddha articles here.

    “Lessons in life will be repeated until they are learned.” ~Frank Sonnenberg

    Right now, I am living my life in lines.

    This is not code for something philosophically abstract or profound. I am literally living my life in lines.  Lines with approximately six feet between me and the woman in colorful exercise clothes; the man in Carhart jeans, hoodie, and baseball cap; and the young mother with her rosy-cheeked toddler bobbing up and down in a seat in the cart, singing a song that is unfamiliar yet unexpectedly joyful.

    The irony of living my life in lines is discovering that I am way more “socially accessible and receptive” than I was before this new normal called COVID-19 reared its ugly, contagious, mentally draining, gloom and doom, don’t you dare breathe on me masked face.

    Even though there is a good amount of “space” between me and the other folks standing on marked spots in the form of masking tape, I find myself becoming a lot more receptive to “social smiling” more than I do to “social distancing,” demonstrating that yeah, I know, this whole standing six feet apart from one another is really weird and a wee bit unnatural; but ironically, this pandemic-mandated social distancing has become the metaphorical tie binding me to people I’ve never met before, aka strangers, creating a surprising, albeit bright light at the end of this spiritually draining tunnel.

    Here’s why.

    Each one of us is spending most of our daytime and nighttime hours in our apartments and houses. And that’s not out of choice. It’s because we must. To keep ourselves and others safe. Period. Not doing this is why the numbers of this virus are skyrocketing, leading to intensely tragic outcomes.

    So, while we are all building closer relationships with our sisters, brothers, mothers, fathers, aunts, uncles, and classmates (with virtual classrooms firmly in place) in our respective homes, we are also feeling a surprisingly meaningful connection with strangers in pharmacies and supermarkets, people we’ve never met, who are living in the same parallel universe that we are, enabling us to feel more like a global community than perhaps ever before.

    We can look at all these people we don’t know, standing in a checkout line, with a shopping cart full of groceries or one single roll of paper towel and feel as if we are best friends. Amigos. Buddies. Bros. Why? Because we are all living the same lives.

    Maybe not totally the same. But more alike than not. And that is something that has sparked daily epiphanies for me, opening my eyes to feelings and thoughts that have confused me—in a good way.

    It’s made me question how something this horrific, life-changing, traumatic, stressful, and mentally draining has led me to a heightened state of self-awareness, empathy, compassion, connection, and well, appreciation. Appreciation for people and things I wouldn’t have even thought about before now. Before this Chernobyl, dystopian, living in pajamas existence.

    For example. I am the full-time caregiver for a special need adult daughter, which in and of itself, is draining and stressful. Yet, it took a full blown, have-never-lived-through-something-like-this pandemic to shift my perspective of woe-is-me self-pity to how blessed I am that I have company—someone to hang out with who is a 24/7 reminder of how fragile this universe is.

    Was I focused on this positive spin before this recent full-time gig in pajamas and lines? I think we know the answer to that question is sadly, no.

    Then there’s the jealousy epiphany. Yup. The jealousy that I would feel for friends on Facebook B.P (Before Pandemic), whose lives always seemed way better than mine; the jealousy for a former colleague who was pompous yet incredibly self-actualized, who took her grandchildren to Disney World when I’ve been dreaming of taking my own daughter there forever.

    This jealousy thing of mine has always been a painful pill to swallow, and one I was always intensely ashamed of. But, during these many weeks sitting at my kitchen table, writing, playing Words with Friends, listening to my daughter rocking Karaoke to Frozen 2 songs, and watching Keeping Up With the Kardashian marathons on the E Channel, I started to release a toxic emotion that never served any purpose other than making me feel shallow, lame, and embarrassed.

    Why? Because of that appreciation thing. The appreciation for being able to do all of these aforementioned activities in the comfort of my home, acknowledging just how lucky I was to be doing that with a 98.6 temperature, while those on the front lines of this worldwide nightmare are dealing with ventilator and mask shortages—literally risking their lives while helping others, perhaps never getting the chance to sit at their kitchen tables or put on a comfy pair of pajamas ever again.

    Grim reality, I know. But a sobering one for all of us standing in line, waiting a little longer than we would like, to buy a carton of milk and fresh bread.

    Perhaps my recent jump on the appreciation bandwagon might have come along without this new normal of waiting on lines, self-quarantines, and social distancing. Who knows? I, for one, highly doubt it.

    I think that all of these so-called epiphanies, which appear as shiny, gold exclamation marks dancing before my eyes, were a higher power’s way of shining a much needed light on  the positives, calling our attention to the fact that we are all more alike than different, even if some of us do have fancier cars, bigger houses, higher paying jobs, and three really cute dogs you would give anything to have laying by your feet.

    But even all those folks must stand in line. By the masking tape markers. And wait their turn. Because like it or not, we’re all in this together. And let’s face it. Is that so bad?

  • When Someone I Respected Violated My Trust…

    When Someone I Respected Violated My Trust…

    “This above all: to thine own self be true.” ~William Shakespeare

    Though I appeared pretty high-functioning and what you might call “normal” as a kid, I was a ball of self-doubt and insecurity from an early age.

    Overthinking, scrutinizing my actions, and generally worrying about what people thought came as naturally to me as breathing. Life felt like a great balancing act between who I thought I should be and who I actually was—and it was pretty exhausting.

    You can imagine my relief when, while browsing for a textbook in the library at eighteen, I discovered the self-help genre (and in it, a new world.)

    I can still remember sinking into a library chair and becoming engrossed in a story that was unlike anything I’d ever read. This book was about a woman and her short-lived love story, which on its surface is the oldest idea in the literal book, except this story was different.

    This woman had fallen in love, basked in the glow of finding her ideal partner, and then found that the entire time she’d done so he was cheating on her.

    While I expected her to rage, sob, and generally discount the whole relationship as a farce, she described an entirely different process that felt revolutionary to me at the time. She wrote about how after raging and sobbing and feeling the betrayal, she realized that she’d still had an incredible time being in love.

    While he had never been real with her, the love she felt had been real—which meant it had originated within her (and not from him) all along. She was grateful, empowered, and absolutely blowing my mind with her interpretation of the situation.

    You mean… we can decide how to interpret the events of our life? As someone who’d always thought that things were clearly good or bad, I was intrigued by the idea of another truth.

    And though my life was anything but smooth in the years that followed, I carried this seed of an idea with me, as well as a steadfast love for self-work. Throughout each leg of my wildly fluctuating life journey I brought along various modes of self-development tools—tools that I believed would lead me to freedom.

    The thing about tools like self-awareness, reflection, and communing with other seekers is that they can lead us to freedom. Taking ownership of our lives, agency over our stories, and employing the earnest work of improving our well-being regardless of what has happened to us is the stuff of literal miracles.

    It’s changed my life, I’ve seen it change others, and I don’t want to live in a world that doesn’t involve self-reflection, reinterpretation, and the divinely-sprinkled-perspective-shifting-magic that can scoop people out of their misery and into fantastic lives.

    But self-improvement tools can also be misused.

    Much like we humans are complex combinations of darkness and light, the way we employ self-help tools on ourselves (and others) can be a similar mixed bag.

    This subject is one that all of us “self-work” lovers and practitioners must reckon with at some point: Where is the line between taking responsibility for our perceptions, and having a valid response when important boundaries are violated?

    How do we refrain from “spiritual bypassing” or glossing over real issues in ourselves and others?

    I recently experienced a great example of this boundary in my own life, one that blindsided me but also reminded me how important it is to ask these questions.

    It began a few months back when I decided it was time to level-up my entrepreneurial game and employ the skill of a highly respected and successful business coach.

    Her price tag was high, but so was my commitment to unlearning many of the stories that had been keeping me stuck—so I splurged and purchased six months of coaching (twenty-four sessions at one hour each) for a large upfront sum.

    I was amazed at how serious I got about my own self-work after spending this sum of money. Yes, the coaching was expensive, but that hefty price tag was helping me to be laser focused in our sessions and in my life.

    Throughout our months of work together I also forged the deep bond of trust and support that’s necessary when working with a healer or coach: We must truly believe that our insecurities, doubts, and vulnerability are being held in a safe space. I felt that safety—and the magical container for growth it created.

    The impetus of our work together involved the same seed of an idea I’d first read about in the library at eighteen: It’s not so much the events of our lives that make up who we are, but the stories we tell about them. It’s our thoughts (and the feelings and actions they create) that can either build our dream castles or our inner prisons.

    Thoughts create our lives, but it was also my thoughts that this coach eventually used against me.

    Three months into our work together she sent me an email one morning before our session.

    “Our sessions will be changing from one hour to forty-five minutes, effective immediately.”

    There would be no cost adjustment, additional sessions, or explanation of why she’d made this change. I did the math and realized that cutting 25% from each session would eliminate almost five total sessions from our initial and already paid in full agreement. 

    I was floored.

    Her email continued: “You may have some thoughts about this. Thoughts like: ‘But that wasn’t our original agreement’ or ‘that’s not the same value.’ I encourage you to coach yourself and examine where these thoughts are coming from.”

    I felt my anger begin to rise and realized that yeah, I had some thoughts.

    She is not trustworthy.
    She is taking advantage of me.
    Financial coaches are all scheming and greedy.

    The thoughts that came up from this interaction weren’t new: they were the offspring of stories I’d been telling myself for my entire life.

    People can’t be trusted.
    They’ll take advantage of you.
    Financially successful people are scheming and greedy.

    Recognizing and detaching from these limiting stories has been the greatest catalyst for my own growth and a huge reason that my work with this coach had been successful. I’d realized that they weren’t “truth” but only thoughts.

    How then, was I to make sense of what felt like a clear breach of ethical boundaries couched in my old “thought” stories? How was I to sort through this issue with someone who knew my stories and could use them against me?

    “Melissa, we know that it’s merely your thoughts about this situation because other clients of mine have had a positive response,” she told me as I questioned her that night. “Our change in session length is a neutral circumstance.”

    The more she convinced me to question my judgment of the situation, the more I felt a rising of clarity within and the appearance of a boundary. Thoughts, stories, and circumstantial neutrality went out the window. This was my line in the sand. I ended our coaching relationship that night.

    I’ve since continued to unpack my interpretation of the situation, and continually return to something that all of us intent on self-help should keep in mind: Regardless of what wonderful tools and treatment models we may employ toward our healing, there is only one tool that we can always rely on to guide, lead, and help us to discern our own “right” from “wrong”: developing our own inner guide.

    It’s leaning into our intuition—the deeper knowing beneath our stories.

    Ultimately, the most powerful tool in life is cultivating a strong trust in self.

    We can read all the books, take all the courses, employ the best healers and coaches and mentors—but the core teaching from all these modalities should ultimately strengthen the trust we are building in ourselves.

    If we never decided where our boundaries are (and looked at, say, an abusive relationship as merely a “neutral circumstance” about which we have “negative” thoughts) we’d never achieve the healing and transformation that most of us are seeking in the first place.

    We need discernment as individuals. We need to believe some thoughts.

    And ultimately, the best coaches, teachers, and mentors should be leading us to be a person who doesn’t need to rely on them to form an opinion. They should be showing us what we are truly capable of within ourselves.

    But how do we trust ourselves amidst the nuance of not just the self-help world, but life in general?

    How do we discern our own voice from that of people we love, respect, and even the trusted professionals we pay for guidance?

    Though cultivating trust in ourselves is a lifelong process, there are tools that we can employ to feel in touch with our inner guide today. I turned to these that day with my coach, and I offer them to you in hopes that they’ll bring you closer to your own reliable inner guide.

    1. Look in the rearview mirror.

    Most of us have had to make big and difficult decisions before. Maybe it was ending a relationship, leaving a job, or even choosing how to care for someone at the end of their life. While we may have consulted with other people about these choices, at the end of the day we made them ourselves.

    Somehow, we sifted through the noise of other people’s opinions and found a deeper knowing within. Reflecting on these moments in our past is a way to make salient the inner guidance we all already have. Though being open to “thought work” can sometimes feel like we’re open to throwing out opinions, the rearview mirror of life shows a bedrock of consistent and strong intuition.

    2. Return to your body.

    Each of us was given a primal and invaluable gift the day we were born: an animal body. This body can feel tense around some people and relaxed around others. It can tell us not to get into a sketchy elevator or to eat more of that nutritious and healing food.

    Becoming “embodied” doesn’t have to be esoteric: It can involve the simple act of going for a walk, doing something physical, or paying attention to how and where we feel things in our bodies. Though our cognitive abilities can make things appear quite complex, these bodies of ours are much wiser than we give them credit for.

    3. Practice meditation.

    When we spend time watching our thoughts it gives us a chance to practice not identifying with them. Becoming aware of inner critics, opinions, and the varying stories we tell ourselves about our lives is the key to untangling from them. Trusting ourselves involves figuring out which inner voice we do want to listen to, and that’s made possible when we create the space (through meditation) to hear it.

    4. Talk things out.

    I know that talking to other people can seem like the opposite of listening to ourselves, but talking to someone can also show us what we’re already thinking.

    Have you ever brought an issue to someone only to be relieved when they voiced the thing you were already thinking? I don’t mean the ego-compounding that can result from shared misery—it’s more like realizing what you really want to feel once you hear it from someone else. Talking (or writing) is also a way to organize our thoughts, gain perspective on them, and return to a situation with a new lens.

    5. Realize that being a human is not a neutral event.

    The situation with my coach is a perfect example of one that can be interpreted differently depending on who’s doing the analyzing. I have no doubt that some of her clients genuinely took this change as a positive one—and were they wrong? Not necessarily.

    I simply have certainty that for me, the change wasn’t okay. I allowed myself to choose this boundary and then stand behind it—and in giving ourselves permission to make choices (that can and will be questioned by others) we strengthen a muscle that ultimately makes us who we are: humans with choice, discernment, and individual identities.

    **

    Ultimately, I’m not suggesting anyone give up on self-help, just like I wouldn’t stop using spoons if someone attacked me with one. (Spoons have been the vehicle for so many delicious things—they’re not to blame for being weaponized!) The gifts of inner work far outweigh the drawbacks; we’ve just got to remain true to ourselves as we sort through the land of self-awareness, responsibility, and thought work.

    As Toni Morrison said, “The function of freedom is to free someone else.” I’m convinced that those of us with awareness of these teachings should harness and use them for good; the best healing practitioners are empowering people to heal (and trust) themselves.

    I’m also convinced that some of the best breakthroughs in my life have come from my work with incredibly human, imperfect, and fallible teachers and their lessons. Recognizing where their helpfulness stops, and our own boundaries begin, could be the single biggest gift the self-development journey has to give us.

  • HumanKind: A Book That Will Inspire You and Help Change the World

    HumanKind: A Book That Will Inspire You and Help Change the World

    I have always believed that kindness is the truest measure of beauty. And I need only think of my grandmother to confirm that this is true. Giving, nurturing, understanding—she was all these things till the day she died, undeniably radiant, at the age of eighty-four. She smiled with her eyes and loved out loud, and that’s who I want to be.

    If you’re fortunate, you’re close to someone like this, a person who exudes warmth and meets you with gentleness and compassion, even when you’re not at your best.

    If you’re observant, you’ll see people from all walks of life embodying these qualities every day. You’ll see people opening their hearts and their homes and their wallets to help other people when they’re struggling.

    And if you’re anything like me, you collect these little memories—snapshots of basic human goodness—to help you maintain your faith in humanity when life feels dark or unsafe.

    As someone who’s ever on the lookout for new kindness stories for inspiration, I was thrilled to get my hands on a copy of Brad Aronson’s new book HumanKind.

    Now, more than ever, we need to focus on the good—and do good, in our own way.

    HumanKind can help with both. With uplifting stories and practical tips throughout, HumanKind will touch your heart, remind you of what is truly important, and give you the tools to make a huge difference in the world through tiny acts of kindness. And all the author’s royalties go to Big Brothers Big Sisters—so just buying a copy does some good!

    The book begins with Brad’s story of supporting his wife, Mia, through two and a half years of treatment after she was diagnosed with leukemia. Friends, family, and colleagues alike all stepped up to lighten their family’s load. And together, they proved there’s strength in numbers; that thoughtfulness, when multiplied by many, truly can help carry someone through the toughest battle of their life.

    Further on in the book, you’ll read about a retiree who launched a project to mend homeless people’s clothes, reinforcing their intrinsic worth and mending their hearts in the process.

    You’ll learn about a woman who started a movement of compassion and connection by giving out “You matter” cards, and giving sets to others to distribute through her “You Matter Marathon.”

    You’ll also read about a woman with a debilitating disease who was denied a service dog, then went on to train dogs for others like herself, after her self-trained German Shephard saved her life.

    The book overflows with stories like this—tales of everyday people using their skills to make a difference and turning their pain into purpose.

    And Brad’s tips are simple and clear, providing a detailed roadmap to create your own impact, one tiny act of love at a time.

    Like many in the world right now, you might find yourself with a lot of free time to potentially fill with enriching activities, with some Netflix binge sessions mixed in, because, let’s face it, both are ways to be kind to yourself!

    Or, if you’re a work-from-home parent, like me, you may have small pockets to fill here and there that you’re determined to make count.

    I can think of no better way to better yourself and the world than giving HumanKind a read.

    Even during the darkest times, the world is full of light.

    There are people tucked away in homes right now, smiling with their eyes at family and thinking of ways to love out loud—in isolation and beyond. There are people out there who know what it’s like to hurt and want to help create a world with a little less pain and a lot more love.

    If you’re one of them, or you want to be, click here and let HumanKind be your guide. Give your spirits a lift. Give your heart some hope. Give back to those in need.

  • Disconnected and Strong in the Face of COVID-19

    Disconnected and Strong in the Face of COVID-19

    EDITOR’S NOTE: You can find a number of helpful coronavirus resources and all related Tiny Buddha articles here.

    “Distance sometimes lets you know who is worth keeping, and who is worth letting go.”
    ~    Lana Del Rey

    As COVID-19 started to change my life I found myself thinking about my family. My parents who I haven’t really spoken to much since 2007, and my sister. I wondered how they were doing and what they must have been feeling at that moment.

    Then I stopped myself and reminded myself why I had cut connections with them in the first place. I remembered the verbal abuse, the neglect, their lack of respect for my boundaries, and their lack of remorse. I reminded myself of just how hard I had tried to be what they had wanted and how it was never enough.

    If someone from your past was not the kind, caring person you needed them to be then, there’s a good chance they won’t be able to be that for you in the present or future.

    It’s only natural to want to reach out during times of stress and hardship. It’s only natural to wonder how people you have cut ties with are doing, if they are safe, and to care about their well-being. But I have learned to think before acting on emotion so I don’t end up getting hurt all over again.

    In times like this, when we are feeling scared or lonely, we need to reflect on what is best for ourselves. Reconnecting with someone out of fear or guilt might only cause more pain.

    If someone you have cut out of your life has contacted you trying to guilt you into responding, or someone else has contacted you on their behalf, remember that you don’t have to respond or engage, and you don’t have to give any explanations.

    You don’t need to answer their phone calls or open their letters, texts, or emails. All you have to do is what is best for you. If you don’t know what is best for you, then don’t act now, take some time to think.

    If they say they’ve changed, look at the evidence so you don’t get sucked back into toxic patterns—especially now, when life is stressful enough.

    This doesn’t mean that we don’t care, this doesn’t mean that we should stop ourselves from thinking about them. I have learned that caring can take many forms. Sometimes for our own well-being we need to care from afar. In our hearts, we can wish them well and hope that they will be okay from a distance.

    I know that this isn’t easy, but we need to protect our mental health. There is no shame in doing what you feel is best for you because you are responsible for your own mental health and happiness. You should never feel guilty for that, even if that means you might disappoint someone.

    To be fair, your situation might be different from mine. I know from my own lived experience that I can never reconnect with my family again. My interactions with them have taught me that they have not changed, and they will never see or respect me. For my own mental health, I’ve decided I will never open that door again, but this might not be the same for you.

    Perhaps your former loved one has changed. Times like this cause people to reflect on their mistakes and what really matters in life. And there’s something to be said for showing people empathy and forgiveness if they’re willing to take an honest look at their choices and own up to their mistakes. Just know that there are no guarantees when you let someone who’s hurt you back into your life.

    If you feel emotionally strong enough to open your heart to that person again, open it with awareness and caution. Test the waters of the relationship with a text or an email and reflect on your feelings after they respond. Some people are capable of self-reflection and growth, and there are times when broken relationships can be mended to be stronger than before.

    It might be wise, though, not to get caught up in fantasies or hold romanticized notions of what the relationship will be like. You can keep an open mind, but expectations often lead to disappointment. And remember that if you don’t feel the relationship is healthy for you, you can always cut ties again and use this experience as a lesson.

    Whatever choice you make, just know this: How we choose to respond to the situation and who we choose to engage with will have an impact on us for days, weeks, and months to come. Surrounding ourselves (physically or emotionally) with people who uplift us, see us, and support our personal growth is very important.

    If, like me, you decide not to reconnect, you can still take action to work through your feelings. There is always something we can do to create healing and closure for ourselves.

    We can write about our thoughts and our feelings to validate them for ourselves. We can write a letter to someone containing all the things we wanted to say but never felt we could we, and we can choose to send the letter or keep it for our own validation.

    We can also shift our focus to ourselves. Every day we can reflect on smalls things we can do to improve our lives, and we can take small steps to enact those changes—even from home. We can take classes online, and we can research new jobs and/or educational programs. We can take time to transform our physical spaces so that they are more functional and make us happy. We can learn to meditate or try an online yoga class.

    Start to build a positive routine filled with things that make you happy. Wake up and cuddle that pet or savor that coffee or do whatever it is that makes you smile.

    Many of us have time to do things we have always wanted to do. Start to make a list of these things. Make that scrapbook, learn to sew, or try that new recipe. Clean out your closets, build that bookshelf, or sit on the couch and marathon that TV show you have always wanted to watch.   

    When my life was failing apart and I lost people I loved I learned that even in the bleakest moments we can focus on the little things that make us happy. The feeling of the warm cup of coffee in our hands, the sun coming through the window, the pet that is asking for affection. We can turn our attention to the present moment, breathe, and savor it.

    We cannot control what is happening or how others behave, but we can control how we choose to respond.

    Instead of investing our energy in toxic relationships we can choose to invest it in healthy relationships and our personal growth. Even amid all this chaos we can be happy and make the most out of every day. We can choose to take good care of ourselves and develop healthy habits that will enhance our lives now and in the future.

  • What to Do If You Can’t Forgive

    What to Do If You Can’t Forgive

    “Your heart knows the way. Run in that direction.” ~Rumi

    “I know I should forgive but I can’t.” I squirmed in my seat as I said this to my teacher.

    I said this immediately after I explained all that I’d experienced during our meditation exercise.  In the meditation I’d had a vivid recollection of the constant verbal and emotional abuse I’d received from my dad.

    It had been ten years since I’d lived at home, but I was still angry, still carrying all of those emotions from years ago. Instead of telling me all the virtues of why it’s important to forgive, my teacher asked me one question.

    “Are you ready to forgive?”

    “No,” I said.

    “Then don’t.”

    When he said that I burst into tears of relief.

    At that time in my life so many people had been telling me about the virtues of forgiveness, suggesting different methods. When they’d see my resistance to forgiveness, they’d just tell me the same platitudes over and over again:

     Forgiveness isn’t about excusing the other person’s behavior.

     Forgiveness is for you not the other person.

     Forgiveness frees you.

    I intellectually understood what they meant. But I still couldn’t do it. I didn’t know why I couldn’t. I had started to feel guilty and shameful that I wasn’t able to do this one thing that so many people agreed I should do.

    My teacher giving me space to not forgive gave me the permission to observe myself and my pain without judgment. This meant I could explore the subtle feelings and beliefs that I didn’t even know I had. I uncovered my resistance by asking myself:

    How was not-forgiving keeping me safe?

    At the time I was a perfectionist and was excelling in my career. I had risen quickly through the ranks of my organization because I pushed myself hard and did a great job.

    At the same time there would be moments where I would go into extreme procrastination. I had learned that I procrastinated because I felt like what I should be doing was going to harm me. I stopped and went into avoidance mode whenever I was afraid that I was going to experience burnout or if I thought I would fail and be rejected.

    I looked at my reaction to not forgiving my dad in the same way. I was avoiding forgiveness because something about the idea of it made me feel unsafe.

    I sat down and wrote about why not forgiving my dad was keeping me safe. In my journaling I was surprised to see that I felt safe with the power I had in not forgiving.

    Through a family member who had told my dad I wasn’t willing to forgive him I’d heard that he was upset that I didn’t. That knowledge, that small thing that I had control of when I hadn’t felt in control of anything regarding my dad, felt like vindication.

    I wrote deeper:

    Why was it so important for me to hold that power? 

    I realized that inside of me was still a teenaged girl living in the experience—she hadn’t graduated high school and moved out. She was still in that pain right now. In this moment. And that feeling of power was the only thing keeping her together.

    It was shocking that I could feel her so strongly in my body. Mostly in my chest and in my stomach. The feeling was heavy and like sand  I couldn’t leave that girl feeling powerless while she was still actively in the moment of pain. I had to give her something to hold onto so she could survive.

    I didn’t try to correct my perception or be more positive. I just listened to me. I finally connected with the depth of pain I had been feeling all along and how often it was there without me even noticing. I wasn’t used to connecting with my body  I wasn’t used to listening to myself without judging.

    My teacher asked me if it was okay if instead of forgiving my dad if we released the energy that I was feeling from my body. I said yes, so he led me through a guided meditation.

    In it I took several deep breaths and visualized that I was sending all of my dad’s energy and the energy of situation through the sun and back to my dad. By moving the light through the sun my dad would only receive pure light back, not any of the pain he’d projected.

    I then took back my own energy, my authentic power, whatever I felt had been taken from me or whatever power I felt I’d given away. I visualized that energy moving through the sun and being cleansed so that all I received was my own pure light.

    Then I visualized all the other people who had heard my story or actually witnessed what went on with my dad letting go of all their judgments and attachments, like streams of light rising into the sky.

    After the meditation was done my body felt good. I felt lighter. I didn’t feel a part of me was caught in the past.

    Suddenly I had a strong urge to forgive my father. And I did.

    Over time I found that I still had more forgiving to do, but it was easier. I didn’t have to be convinced to forgive, I naturally wanted to.

    What helped me the most when I couldn’t forgive was finally recognizing that forgiveness is more than making a mental choice and saying words. Forgiveness is a decision that’s made with the body and the soul. It comes naturally when it is ready. 

    If you just can’t forgive, I invite you to explore what worked for me:

    1. Accept that you aren’t ready to forgive and trust your decision.

    2. Ask yourself how not-forgiving is keeping you safe and listen to your truth without minimizing or correcting your beliefs.

    3. Be present and feel where those beliefs are still active in your body,

    4. When you are ready (and only when you’re ready) releasing the energy that does not belong to you and reclaim what does using the process I wrote above.

    When we are willing to stop forcing ourselves to do what we ‘should’ do and actually listen to our truth in the moment, we expand our capacity for healing in ways we can’t even imagine.  Including forgiving the impossible.

  • How Being in a Toxic Relationship Changed My Life for the Better

    How Being in a Toxic Relationship Changed My Life for the Better

    “Getting over a painful experience is much like crossing monkey bars.  You have to let go at some point in order to move forward.” ~C.S. Lewis

    My ex and I split up about five years ago. We had been married for seventeen years, and after that long, I figured we were home free, as far as lasting marriages go. Needless to say, when it happened, I was devastated. Over all those years of being a couple, I had lost a big part of myself. Without that relationship, who was I anymore?

    I was terrified of being alone, which led me to start exploring the dating world much too soon.

    I dated a really nice guy that I just wasn’t into and we became friends. I dated a guy (once) that freaked me out and taught me never to get in a car with a stranger. I dated a guy that ghosted me. Finally, I dated a guy that I thought was my soul mate. He nearly ruined my life.

    When I met him, I wasn’t all that into him. He seemed too quiet for me, but he was cute and after a few dates, I started to really like him. We were both mid-divorce, and we had a lot in common. We could talk for hours. He was thoughtful and offered his time and affection freely.

    After a couple months, he changed. He became very quiet and contemplative, and the conversation waned. He was always lacking in energy and never wanted to go out and do anything fun, which was totally the opposite of me. In a healthier mental state, maybe I would have seen the red flags.

    We connected on a deeper level though, when he did talk. We were both in search of meaning in our lives. We were both trying to make sense of it all. I felt like we had this deep bond unlike anything I had experienced in a partner before. We both struggled with depression and with finding our places in this new life after divorce.   

    I needed someone to fill the hole that my ex-husband had left, and I wanted connection so badly. People told me I had to learn to be alone and get to know myself again first, but I didn’t want to hear that. The only thing I wanted was to feel whole again, and at the time whole meant being with someone. 

    As he grew distant, I tried harder and harder to get attention and affection from him. And, of course, the more I tried to get the affection, love, and attention I so desperately wanted, the more he pulled away.

    I felt like I was drowning in a rushing river, trying desperately to grasp onto something—anything—that would help me fill the void left by my failed marriage. I wanted him to treat me like he loved and cared for me, and he was just not willing to do that, or maybe he just wasn’t capable.

    The constant fishing for him to say the words I wanted to hear and to make me feel how I wanted to feel was exhausting and unbearably frustrating. I couldn’t understand how someone could be so selfish when I was giving so much.

    We’d been together for about five or six months when he started having debilitating anxiety accompanied by suicidal thoughts. One night, when he was afraid to be alone, I rearranged my schedule with my kids so I could stay with him to make sure he was okay. He ended up feeling like he needed hospitalization to stay safe.

    I stayed by his side the entire time, and when he was admitted to the inpatient program, I visited him every day, without fail. I rearranged my days so I could be there for him. I was practically existing to be needed by him.

    As he was preparing to be released from inpatient, he was afraid to be alone in case his anxiety worsened and he started having suicidal thoughts again. He asked if he could stay with me, which was tricky since I have two kids who were going through this difficult time of divorce as well. It wasn’t ideal, but in my state of needing to be needed, I was ready to help him however I could—whatever it took.

    His parents ended up coming to stay with him, so that measure wasn’t necessary, but it also meant he didn’t need me anymore.

    All of his attention was focused inward and on getting better, and not at all toward me or showing any appreciation for the sacrifices I was making for him. Let’s be clear—this is how it should have been, and I know that he absolutely needed to take care of himself, but it made me crazy.

    I wanted him to love me like I (thought) I loved him. I just couldn’t see that he was not in a place where he could really love anyone. That hole I was trying to fill just kept getting wider and deeper.

    When he was hospitalized, it almost normalized the experience for me. He got a break from life for a few days and I basically dropped my life to save his.

    Maybe he’d do the same thing for me, and maybe he’d finally give me the attention I craved. Maybe, just maybe, I could start to fill in that big hole in my heart. This was, of course, a subconscious line of thinking at the time, but in hindsight, I can see that I was grasping for any shred of validation from him that I was worthy of his love. 

    I was severely depressed. I had thrown myself so hard into this relationship, and I wasn’t getting anything back. I ended up being hospitalized too because of the depression, pain, and hopelessness I was feeling.

    He spent a little time being supportive, but he didn’t drop everything to be there for me like I did when he needed me. He only came and visited me once.

    I had never felt so alone in my life.

    The relationship had grown to be so dysfunctional that I had lost any shred of sanity that I had left. Looking back, it feels a little embarrassing that I stayed in this place when everyone I knew told me to get out. I wanted the relationship to work—at any cost.

    He broke up with me right before Christmas that year, which was also completely devastating to me.  I didn’t take it well, and I hated him for it.

    To make matters worse, in the new year, he texted me to tell me that he missed me. We started hanging out again and maintained a “friends with benefits” kind of relationship. How dumb could I be?? 

    Again, I was there whenever he needed me, at great cost to my own well-being. I held on to this shred of hope that maybe things would work out. Somehow, someday.

    His depression and anxiety eventually flared up again, and he took some time to go to North Carolina to stay with his parents for a month while he attended a partial hospitalization program.

    We stayed in contact the whole time, and toward the end of his stay there, he talked about how he was starting to feel like we should get back together. I was still in heart hole-filling mode, so in my mind, it was like things were finally coming together—this was why I had stuck it out so long, after all, right?

    When he came home from North Carolina, we didn’t really talk about “being back together,” but it sure felt that way. It finally felt nice—like I had wished for, for so long.

    And then one day, everything changed.

    I invited some friends over for my birthday, and he was supposed to help me with the food, but he was late. Really late. I tried calling him multiple times with no answer. As I hung out with my friends and tried to make fun conversation and pretend nothing was wrong, I felt hurt, unimportant, unworthy, and small. When he finally did show up, something was odd about him. When he left that night, I went to kiss him, it felt forced and awkward.

    Later that week, when I pressed him on it, he told me he was on a date with the woman he knew would be his future wife.

    After one date we were over. Like a switch flipped.

    After one date, he was exclusively dating another woman whom he would marry someday, and he didn’t even apologize, explain, or get how crappy all of it was. 

    I was so angry, but I was also blindsided, hurt, and I felt like an idiot. I had given so much of myself for him, and he treated me terribly and without care. The rest of the details aren’t necessarily important, but in the end, I told him to f* off and that I didn’t ever want to see or talk to him again.

    All of my hurt was finally starting to turn into something useful—anger and self-respect.

    I think I needed anger to leave that relationship behind and realize how much better off I was going to be without him.

    I didn’t really start to heal from the pain of my divorce until after this moment, and I didn’t really date for a while after that.

    I reconnected with friends I saw much less of when I was dating him. I reconnected with myself. I learned how to be alone, and how to appreciate that time.

    I learned what I want and need in a relationship.

    Most of all though, I learned that I am worthy of love and I deserve someone who wants to give back. I learned that I shouldn’t settle for less than someone that wants to be an equal partner in my life.

    Despite how horrible that time was, I am so grateful for the experience because of  how much I learned about myself and grew during that time.   

    We were just two people who were struggling with where we were in life. We weren’t right for each other, but we were put in each other’s path to teach each other something.

    He ended up getting married to the woman he was with when he was late to my birthday party, and I am so thankful that she ended up as his wife and not me.

    I like to believe that he really is a good person that was just going through a tough time when he met me. I do wish him the best. We all deserve that, right? I could even go so far as to thank him for the things he helped me learn.

    The lessons that came out of this very painful experience are many, and I want to summarize them so that you, too, can learn from my mistakes. I hope you find these helpful.

    You Are Absolutely Worthy of All the Love

    You deserve the world, even if you have to give it to yourself. It doesn’t matter who you are, you deserve love. Yes, you. And if you are with someone who doesn’t love you like you deserve to be loved, you should look elsewhere, or even better, within.

    Move on. For real.

    Figure Out How to Love Yourself First

    It’s been said that you can’t really love anyone until you learn to love yourself. I don’t think you can really truly accept and feel love until you learn to love yourself first, either.

    What’s more, when you learn to love yourself, you don’t need another person to fill any emotional holes. You are already whole all on your own. The love you find when you are whole is a different kind of love, and it’s beautiful.

    How do you learn to love yourself? Start by simply being with yourself. Fill the hole with your own care and attention. This will lead to respecting yourself, which in time will lead to valuing yourself.

    You Have Value as a Person

    Part of your journey in life is seeing that you are worth making the trip. It might be hard to see, but you most definitely are.

    If you are with someone that can’t see how valuable you are, you’re with the wrong person. You have unique talents. You are beautiful, and you are amazing. There is someone out there that will see it. But you have to believe it, too.

    Every Experience in Your Life Has Something to Teach You

    I bet if you look at all of the challenging experiences in your life, you can find at least one thing you learned from each. If you don’t agree with me, I can almost guarantee that you’re not trying hard enough.

    It’s through challenges that we grow. If I hadn’t had this difficult experience, it wouldn’t have led me to my current partner, who loves me and supports me more than I could have ever dreamed of. I learned so much about relationships, and myself, that I wouldn’t have otherwise learned, and who knows, I might not have been ready to meet the love of my life.

    Letting Go Can Be a Beautiful Thing

    Letting go is hard.

    We want what we want, and it takes a lot of trust to walk away from a sure thing when you don’t know what the future will hold.

    It’s hard to accept that sometimes what we want isn’t the best thing for us. But you have to trust that by letting go you’ll open up to better things.

    And sometimes the best thing for you is to simply to live without a person who isn’t good for you.

  • How Conflict in Relationships Can Be a Catalyst for Growth

    How Conflict in Relationships Can Be a Catalyst for Growth

    “The mind is the place the soul goes to hide from the heart.” ~Michael Singer

    “You think you’re so much better than me!!”

    As this phrase—laced with contempt—exited my mouth, I recognized the familiar words. I had grown up hearing this phrase often. The “rich people,” the girl who won the competition, the inconsiderate neighbors, the rude supervisor… “They think they’re so much better than us.”

    So, I diligently spent my childhood trying to prove them all wrong.

    I wore myself out trying to be the smartest, the best, the prettiest… you name it. I wasn’t going to let all those losers be better than me, or my family. No way!

    But who was I really fighting against?

    The answer is no one.

    In truth, I was fighting against my parents’ belief system, which came from their own childhoods. I was fighting their ghosts from the past. But I didn’t know that at the time.

    I had no idea I had carried this belief system into my own adult life. After exhausting myself trying to prove I was worthy as a child, I then spent decades working on self-improvement and personal growth. I had moved beyond all that silly limited thinking.

    Or so I thought.

    Until that day in the kitchen with my husband…

    In my mid-forties…

    When he politely declined to eat the meat I had prepared for dinner.

    Suddenly an uncontrollable rage welled up inside me, and I screamed at him, with tears streaming down my face…

    “YOU THINK YOU’RE SO MUCH BETTER THAN ME!”

    My mind immediately starting playing endless clips of all the times my husband had demonstrated his assumed superiority over me. I was completely triggered and unhinged, so I bought into it.

    As I continued on with my ridiculous fit, another part of me, a more detached part, asked this simple question: “Where is all this coming from?”

    Immediately, I recognized the familiar phrase. I knew exactly where it came from. I stopped my raging in an instant and excused myself to the bedroom.

    Once there, I took the energy away from the mind and into the heart. There was no need to analyze it. No need to further engage the mind in its joyous rebuke of my innocent husband.

    Michael Singer has a quote that I love. “The mind is the place the soul goes to hide from the heart.” We don’t want to feel those painful feelings, so we rationalize them endlessly in the mind. But, there’s another option. I placed my attention in the heart, disengaged from the continuing chaos in my mind, and allowed the energy to release.

    Minutes later, I went back to the kitchen, feeling much calmer, and apologized to my husband. Peace was restored. I had also progressed spiritually by releasing some of the stored garbage that had been hiding in my heart for decades.

    I’m now to the point where I can be grateful when my husband hits a nerve, presses my buttons, triggers me, or whatever you prefer to call it. I’m only able to release that old stuff when it gets hit and brought to the surface. Otherwise, it just lays there, dormant, silently waiting for the perfect opportunity to erupt. Like a volcano.

    We all know the feeling of that volcano when it erupts without notice. Those closest to us are the most adept at causing an eruption. They can so skillfully and predictably hit our stuff.

    We eventually realize that an intimate relationship is like a mirror. Our partner has an uncanny ability to reflect back to us the parts of ourselves that need the most healing. If we understand this, we can learn to use the conflict in our relationship as a catalyst for spiritual growth.

    We can stop the blame and anger. Instead, we feel immense gratitude when we find yet another old wound in need of healing. This is how we grow spiritually together. And, in the process, we create great connection and intimacy.

    In an intimate relationship, we are like two rough pieces of sandpaper, constantly rubbing up against each other. Over time, if we use this process to our benefit, we become smoother. Then, our relationship reflects back to us this smoother, gentler, happier version of ourselves.

    We don’t get so triggered anymore. We chill out. We are able to enjoy life and each other. Peacefully. Joyously.

  • The Power of Social (Media) Distancing

    The Power of Social (Media) Distancing

    “Less social media, more everything else.” ~Unknown

    It’s been a long time since I’ve engaged personally on social media. A while back I made the conscious choice to stop scrolling online and start focusing my time IRL. I was shocked when I did the math. Scrolling for just twenty minutes a day adds up to fifty days over ten years.

    As a busy mom of six, my time is precious, and I don’t want to spend my minutes, hours, days, and years getting sucked into the social media vortex.

    I admit, however, that social distancing has me wanting to reach for my phone and scroll as a distraction, to see “what’s going on” (even though nobody is really going anywhere) or to feel connected.

    So far, I haven’t been pulled back in, other than reading a few specific posts (you know the ones that pop into your inbox… see so and so’s latest!).

    Everyone is looking to feel connected during this uncertain and surreal time, and there’s nothing wrong with using social media to stay in touch with friends and family and keep up with the latest news.

    But even during a pandemic, we can fall into the usual social media traps—comparing ourselves to others and feeling depressed as a result. And then there’s the stress of overwhelming yourself with a full feed of coronavirus articles—some of them not even accurate.

    If you find yourself wanting to scroll more, keep these five tips in mind for a more purposeful experience.

    1. Do some spring cleaning.

    Having time and space away from the hustle bustle and usual noise of our busy lives can make decluttering easier. Use this space to decide who you really want to spend time with online. Channel your inner Marie Kondo and get rid of anyone or anything that doesn’t spark joy.

    I would also suggest unfollowing any brands, groups, or product lines that aren’t body image positive. Research shows that constantly looking at images of people that who happen to be smaller than you, will negatively affect your body image.

    It’s normal to compare and despair, which is why I focus on friends and family members that love me unconditionally and brands or products I love and that promote an inclusive self-image.

    You might also want to consider unfollowing any pages that frequently share fear-mongering articles or content that frequently draws negative, hateful comments.

    2. Remind yourself that everyone suffers.

    Even amid a global pandemic, some people seem to have perfect lives—like the celebrities “sheltering at home” in luxury, seemingly immune to the pain and struggle many of us are facing.

    But the reality is, there’s not one person in the world who has a perfect life. Even if their Instagram feed is filled with happy moments, they’ve had other moments, days, months, or even years that were filled with struggle.

    Think about the people you know; there isn’t one person who hasn’t experienced some form of suffering. This goes back to tip #1: You might want to consider unfollowing anyone who only posts their highlight reel. It’s refreshing to engage with and follow people who show all sides of their reality!

    3. Get curious.

    When your brain tells you to pick up your phone, get curious about what you really want at this moment. Extra time indoors can make you feel a little crazy. Ask yourself, what am I thinking or feeling as I reach for my phone? Am I bored, anxious, tired, or scared?

    Being able to both sit with these uncomfortable feelings and address them will help them pass much more quickly than trying to bury them with a mindless scan of your feed.

    Maybe you really need some fresh air, a break from your work, a snack, a new game to play with your kids, or a FaceTime session with a friend.

    There’s nothing wrong with choosing to scroll, but be honest with yourself about whether time on your phone can actually fulfill what you truly desire.

    4. Set a time limit.

    Set a timer for the amount of time you’re willing to spend on your feed. You can even use one of these apps to block social media for the rest of the day.

    If you notice you’re checking your feed to avoid a difficult project or task, try using the pomodoro method to complete both small and large tasks.

    And if you’re out of work and have a lot of time to fill in your day, consider creating a daily routine so you’re not aimless and antsy—perhaps with time for exercise, time for meditation, time for reading, time for creativity. This way, your days at home can actually enrich you instead of leaving you feeling drained and depleted.

    5. Believe that you’re good enough.

    No matter what you see in your feed, know that you’re 100% lovable, worthy, and supported. Never has there been a time when so many people have been dealing with the same set of circumstances. Instead of using this time to compare yourself to how other people are handling their self-quarantine time, look for connection, kindness, ideas, inspiration, and humor.

    —

    This extra time at home might be the perfect time to slow down, stop doing selfies, put your phone down, and practice some social media distancing, too. After all, what would you do with fifty extra days over the next ten years?

  • How I Overcame My Relationship Anxiety and Doubts

    How I Overcame My Relationship Anxiety and Doubts

    “To love is to risk not being loved in return. To hope is to risk pain. To try is to risk failure. But risk must be taken because the greatest hazard in my life is to risk nothing.” ~Leo Buscaglia

    It was the day after my boyfriend proposed and I felt sick with anxiety. I couldn’t understand this feeling. I loved my boyfriend; we were living together, and I didn’t want to break up with him, so why was I so anxious?

    I googled furiously in search of answers. I worried this was a sign that the relationship wasn’t ‘right,’ and this made me feel even more anxious. I worried that it was my gut instincts speaking to me and I would regret it if I didn’t listen. But there was another part of me that didn’t want to leave the relationship. That was very confusing.

    “Maybe I am just afraid to be alone,” I thought.

    However, as someone with a tendency toward anxiety I also wondered if this was just another expression of that. Finally, after about a month of sleepless nights, worrying, and googling, I came across a forum that mentioned relationship obsessive compulsive disorder (ROCD) or relationship anxiety.

    What is ROCD?

    “Relationship OCD (ROCD) is a form of obsessive-compulsive disorder (OCD) in which the sufferer experiences intrusive, unwanted, and distressing thoughts about the strength, quality, and ‘true nature’ of their love for their partner. Obsessions in ROCD include a preoccupation with a partner’s appropriateness as a mate, overall level of attractiveness, sexual desirability, or long-term compatibility, and often arise in otherwise entirely healthy relationships.” (Center for OCD Los Angeles)

    It gave me a huge sense of relief to know that what I was experiencing was indeed anxiety-related and I didn’t need to leave my lovely fiancé.

    I took a relationship anxiety course and it was of enormous help to me. I learned so much about myself and am now able to enjoy my relationship again. I want to share what I learned in the hope that it will help someone else.

    The Difference Between Anxiety and Gut Instincts

    My main concern before and after learning about ROCD was “What if this is actually my gut instincts telling me that I need to leave?” This is a scary question, and a very common one for sufferers of ROCD. There is also no definitive way of answering this question, which is frustrating. Anxiety hates uncertainty.

    One thing that helped me was to remind myself that I have worried obsessively about lots of things for most of my life. For instance, when I was single, I wanted to know with absolute certainty that I would meet someone and be happily married one day. I would seek reassurance from friends and family and worry about it endlessly. This anxiety felt similar to that.

    If I’d worried unnecessarily in the past, it stood to reason I could be doing the same thing in my relationship.

    Fear of Conflict

    The interesting thing about healing from relationship anxiety is that it seems to uncover different wounds for different people. In this way it can be a gift, as it triggers a lot of self-discovery and growth.

    For me, it uncovered a fear of conflict and losing myself.

    When I was growing up, I felt like I had to put aside my feelings in order to “keep the peace.” As a result, my adult relationships sometimes feel like a choice between losing the person I love and losing myself. I have had to learn that conflict can be healthy; it doesn’t mean a relationship isn’t right.

    I used to find it hard to voice my opinions and needs in my relationship. I needed to test the assumption that conflict is unsafe.

    Thankfully, I found that the opposite is true. You can’t have a healthy relationship with out conflict. My partner has strong opinions, he doesn’t let me off the hook easily, and we are very different in some ways, but I have never felt unsafe when we are debating an issue.

    Without conflict we are either not being honest or sacrificing our needs, which can lead to the feeling of losing oneself.

    Fear of Making the “Wrong Choice”

    I love my parents and I know they did their best, but there are things about their relationship that I would not want to repeat in my own.

    Often relationship anxiety is related to the first relationship we were exposed to. There is a myriad of things that we may have been witnessed in our parents’ relationship: domestic violence, infidelity, divorce, abandonment. It is easy to become hypervigilant about not repeating our parents’ mistakes, at least as we perceive them. Add to this is the idea of “the one” and our fear of missing out or “settling” and we have a recipe for relationship anxiety.

    When my partner says something insensitive or we have a different view on things, I still feel anxious at times. But I am able to recognize that I am triggered and stabilize myself again. Sometimes this involves talking it through with him. But often I just need to take some time to process the emotions, to see what in my past my has been triggered, and practice some self-soothing.

    Recognizing your particular areas of sensitivity can help you differentiate between doubts about your partner and old wounds being triggered.

    Unhelpful Beliefs About Love

    Our culture’s ideas about love are very unhelpful. We are brought up on Hollywood movies showing love as passion, desire, and finding “the one.” This is not a fair reflection of the daily grind of loving someone.

    Sometimes we feel in love with our partners and sometimes we don’t, and that’s okay. The feeling of love comes and goes, but we can choose the action of love every day. Life gets busy, we all have annoying quirks, and sometimes we are tired and grumpy. This is not conducive to constant feelings of passion!

    I have learned to watch the loving feelings ebb and flow. To enjoy loving feelings when they arise, knowing that when they are not there they will return.

    I believe there are lots of people we could be happy with, not just one single perfect person. My partner is certainly not perfect, but he is a good person who I love and respect. We have lots in common, but we are also very different in some ways, which means we learn a lot from each other. I am so grateful that I didn’t throw away our relationship, as it is now one of the most precious things in my life.

    If You Think You’re Struggling with Relationship Anxiety

    If you are in a generally healthy relationship and you have experienced anxiety in the past, particularly when it comes to relationships, then there is a good chance that what you are experiencing is relationship anxiety. I encourage you to look deeper. Read more about it and perhaps see a therapist who understands ROCD.

    Be careful of well-meaning friends and family who may suggest that if you aren’t sure, then it means you should break up. Many people, including therapists, don’t understand relationship anxiety. I would also suggest staying away from romantic movies and TV shows, as this will most likely lead to unhelpful comparisons.

    There is no way of knowing the future and there are no guarantees in life. There is no way of knowing if our partner is 100% “right for us” or not. And if there was, I don’t think that anyone would pass the test, as we are all flawed in some way.

    Loving is a risk, and there is no way of escaping that. Of course, that is scary! But in time we can learn to manage the fears and, in the process, become better at loving ourselves and our partners.

  • Why You Should Love Your Imperfect Self

    Why You Should Love Your Imperfect Self

    “Love yourself first and everything else falls into line.” ~Lucille Ball

    If you were to ask me ten years ago what self-love meant, I would’ve probably said something general like “being happy.” But self-love goes way deeper than that; it involves accepting the past versions of yourself and your present challenges, while giving yourself credit for how far you’ve come.

    While we may have an idea of the “perfect person” we want to be, sometimes we are so hard on ourselves that we forget to appreciate who we are right now. The notion that we won’t be the ideal version of ourselves until we are the ‘right’ weight, have a certain job, or overcome all our personal issues is not serving us.

    For years I struggled with my weight and what my “perfect body” would look like. Years of being called fat and being bullied in elementary school had instilled in me that I wasn’t enough.

    Even though I was too young to know I wasn’t going to be this way forever, I started a cycle of self-hate.

    At around ten years old I was already obsessed with my weight, taking weight loss supplements behind my mother’s back and dreaming of the day I could finally be skinny. The cycle eventually led to binge eating and even more weight gain.

    Every time I was able to go a day without eating, I felt powerful, invincible, but this was quickly followed by shame and guilt when I gave in—and I would punish myself by repeating the same cycle. Over and over.

    Looking back at my life now, I wish I could’ve just told the younger version of myself to let go of my own expectations and enjoy the innocence of youth.

    Self-love is forgiving ourselves for our past mistakes, giving ourselves credit for what we have done, and finding comfort within ourselves during dark times.

    I suspect we’ve all been so hard on ourselves for not living up to our own expectations (or others’) that we’ve forgotten to enjoy who we are in the moment. But only the present moment is promised. We don’t know where we will be tomorrow, or if we will even be here.

    So, instead of getting too caught up on your past versions, realize that you are the best version of yourself you can be right now. And then commit to loving yourself as you are. Why?

    The world deserves all of you—just as you are now.

    This is the only guaranteed moment we have. It doesn’t matter if you made a mistake in the past because dwelling does not serve you in the now. Your family, friends, and spouse deserve the authentic you that isn’t tainted by doubt, insecurities, or past mistakes. Allow self-worthiness to flow through you and let go of the idea that you aren’t enough. You are. Flaws, weaknesses, and all.

    If you don’t love yourself, you’ll settle for less.

    When we don’t love ourselves, we tend to settle for less from others and life because we don’t think we are worthy. We figure that since we can’t even live up to our own expectations, we shouldn’t have expectations for others.

    So, we give in, saying yes more often than we should. We accept relationships that add no value to our lives and do things that aren’t in our best interest. Self-love teaches us that we don’t have to make huge sacrifices just to please other people or accept anything that doesn’t serve us.

    You are valuable.

    I’ve had many situations in my life that made me feel less than. I’ve compared myself to others and felt I would never be as important as them. However, feelings aren’t facts. Just because someone may have more, or may have done more, that doesn’t mean their lives are worthier than yours.

    We can learn to accept that others might be more fortunate and accomplished than us, but we still have something to offer to the world. We all have strengths, skills, knowledge, and ideas. And for many of us, our strengths come from our struggles, which means we have something to offer because we’re imperfect. So forget about what everyone else is doing and recognize you are capable of more than you realize.

    You need self-love to break the cycle.

    It may be hard to break deeply engrained habits, especially when they stem from trauma, but with self-love, change is possible.

    For me, the cycle of binge eating resulted from wanting to be a perfect version of myself. I lied and told myself that next time would be different, but next time was the same as the last because I was always so hard on myself. It wasn’t until I started being kinder to myself that I finally broke the cycle because I was able to forgive myself for a setback and get back on track instead of acting on my guilt and shame.

    What is the cycle that is holding you back in life? Can you be kind to yourself when you struggle so it’s easier to break it?

    —

    Self-love isn’t something that happens overnight. It’s ugly, it’s crying yourself to sleep some nights, it’s accepting some of the trauma from your past, but it’s worth it. You are the only version of yourself that you have. You don’t need to sacrifice who you are in the present moment to fulfill an idea of who you should be. Everything you need to be, you already are.

  • If You’re Hoping They’ll Change, They’re Not Right for You

    If You’re Hoping They’ll Change, They’re Not Right for You

    “Love is the ability and willingness to allow those that you care for to be what they choose for themselves without any insistence that they satisfy you.” ~Wayne Dyer

    When I married my ex, he had the potential to be a fantastic husband.

    If I’m to be honest with you, that’s why I married him—I thought he could eventually be everything I wanted in a partner. I’m not proud of it.

    To be fair, he had a lot going for him. He was handsome and creative. He was generous and romantic. My ex was a true gentleman. He dressed well and he was more grown-up than any man I’d dated before.

    He knew how to adult, and I found that wildly attractive.

    Still, there was an edge to him that didn’t feel quite right—at least, not to me. His sweeping gestures felt inauthentic more often than not, but try telling your friends you want to break up with a guy because he left a mixed tape sitting on the windshield of your car, or because he wrote you a love poem, or because he insisted on giving up his seat to one of your (male) friends.

    “You’re just not used to being loved,” they’d tell me, and so I second-guessed myself and focused, instead, on letting the love in.

    Just two or so months into our relationship, he asked a business acquaintance of mine how much money he earned a year.

    I just about died.

    Had he blurted this question out in a moment of thoughtlessness, I wouldn’t have made a meal out of it, but that wasn’t the case. He asked this question because he felt it was a perfectly reasonable question to ask.

    Right there and then I thought, nope, this isn’t going to work. My boundaries are here. His are way over there. We are not compatible. I told him as much, but he had one mission and one mission only: to love me.

    “Don’t worry,” he assured me. “I’d have no problem if someone asked me what my salary was, but I get that it makes you uncomfortable, so I won’t ask questions like that anymore.”

    Of course, he did. He continued to operate within his comfort zone, which was well outside of mine. Time and time again I expressed my discomfort. Time and time again he promised to accommodate. And time and time again, I stifled concerns that he wasn’t the one for me and just hoped that he would eventually rise to the challenge I presented to him.

    For ten years, I challenged my ex to be the husband I wanted him to be.

    One capable of following basic social protocols. One that was quick-witted and fast on the uptake. I wanted him to take greater interest in our long-term financial well-being, to release people from his hugs when they seemed uncomfortable, to make his public displays of affection less public. The list went on.

    Damn it, I knew he had the potential to be and do all of the above and more. He had the potential to be an outstanding partner but, to me, he wasn’t, despite my pleas and despite his well-intentioned promises.

    One day he proclaimed that he didn’t feel like himself when he was in my company.

    “How long have you felt this way?” I asked.

    “For about ten years,” he answered. About one year less than the entire duration of our relationship.

    “When did you figure this out?” I asked. “Last week,” he explained. He’d been standing in the park opposite our suburban house, chatting with a bunch of suburban women and feeling totally at ease with himself—until I came along.

    The moment I joined the crowd, he said, he began to feel uncomfortable. Like he could no longer just be himself. I felt sick, yet I understood.

    How could he possibly have felt at ease in my company when I was constantly wishing he were someone else? Obviously, he couldn’t. While I took ownership of my role in this situation, I still felt buckets of rage over his.

    Why, oh why, hadn’t he told me where to shove my expectations?

    We were both to blame.

    Shortly after this conversation, I located a phone bill that had mysteriously gone missing. This bill put the final nail in our coffin. From it, I learned that my ex had been making daily (sometimes twice-daily) phone calls to another woman, my daughter’s caretaker.

    If you think this is about to take a sordid twist, I’ll tell you right now, this isn’t one of those husband-leaves-wife-for-hot-young-nanny stories.

    She, the caregiver, was a married, church-going mother of three who was just a few years my junior. While a physical attraction was likely one of the things that drew him to her, I’m guessing the bigger attraction was the freedom she gave him to be himself.

    If only I understood then what I understand now. You can’t base a marriage on potential.

    My ex had the potential to be who I wanted him to be, but the desire to be himself was stronger. Similarly, I had the potential to have and to hold him, for better and for worse, but my compulsion to change him was stronger.

    In hindsight, he and I didn’t stand a chance. Still, I have no regrets. Not only was my daughter born from this relationship, but I am wiser for the experience. I learned that we can’t change people who don’t want to change, and if we enter into any relationship with that expectation it’s certain to end badly.

    Is it wrong to want more from the ones we love?

    No, I don’t believe it is.

    There’s nothing wrong with hoping that a relationship may, like a good wine, improve with age. Before making a life-long commitment, though, shouldn’t we, at the very least, believe that what we’re entering into will be enough to sustain us? That the person we are committing ourselves to is enough?

    If we can begin with a solid foundation of respect and acceptance, anything more becomes the icing on the cake. A nice-to-have but not a deal breaker if expectations aren’t met.

    That’s where I went wrong.

    I wasn’t in it for the cake. I was in it purely for the icing.