Tiny Buddha

Category: love & relationships

  • The Most Compassionate Words and How They Heal

    The Most Compassionate Words and How They Heal

    “Love and compassion are necessities, not luxuries. Without them, humanity cannot survive.” ~Dalai Lama.

    It wasn’t until my mother died that I was able to feel her love and have that mother-daughter relationship that I’d been craving all my life. It was not until she died that I was able to learn, and truly feel, compassion—for her and for me.

    I’ve always known that compassion for others is a nice thing. We all know that. But it wasn’t until I truly felt it that I was able to create a deep sense of healing.

    My mum and I always had a strange relationship. Abused as a child and never able to reclaim her power, she was a tormented soul, and she was unable to be the mother she wanted to be. I was empathetic with this; I took it on and was unable to be the daughter I could be. It was like there was a wall between us, and we were unable to connect as a regular mother and daughter.

    I remembered all the times when her promises fell through. I remembered all the times when she yelled at me as a kid. I remembered all the times when she’d manipulate me in a big custody battle. I remembered some good times too, of course, but they were fleeting, and they passed all too quickly.

    I remembered when she told me she only had six months to live; she’d been struggling with self-inflicted cancers from having drank and smoked all her life in order to cope with the heavy weight on her shoulders.

    I remembered visiting her in palliative care and her seeming hopeful that she would be out of there soon, reunited with her dog.

    I remembered seeing her two weeks later, on her final night, and wondering what she was thinking, wondering what she was feeling with that final breath, knowing that relief was finally coming her way.

    The waves of grief hit me harder and harder, until, over a year later, I found myself crying for almost forty-eight hours straight.

    I felt for her never being able to live the life she could have lived. I felt for her trauma. There wasn’t much sadness of my own. I didn’t miss having a mother who was never present. All my feelings were for her.

    There were no words. The sadness I felt for her and what sadness I felt for myself had merged into a convoluted mess. My body was unable to process it all.

    One day, as I was remembering a difficult time, I decided to tune into myself as a child. All I really wanted was to be understood and acknowledged. So, addressing the child version of me, at that point in time, I said to her: I see you. I hear you. I feel you.

    And oh, the relief I felt!

    I repeated that phrase to myself as a child over and over until I felt my body soften.

    I see you. I hear you. I feel you.

    I felt okay. I was safe. I was seen. I was heard. I was understood. I could finally let go and breathe.

    But I realized, at that point in time, my mum also need to be seen, heard, and understood.

    So I gave to her what I gave to myself.

    I said to her: I see you. I hear you. I feel you.

    I repeated it over and over and over again until I felt her soften, let go, and finally be able to breathe. We both felt lighter and freer than we’d ever felt before. The sadness, the heaviness, the darkness—it simply melted away.

    I knew I was onto a good thing here, so I revisited various points in time, including my mum’s childhood when she was scared and traumatized, and including during her final days when she knew she was dying. I said to myself, and I said to my mum, this chant of compassion, which I found myself extending to the following:

    I see you.
    I hear you.
    I feel you.
    I honor you.
    I love you.
    Thank you.

    As I said each phrase, I meant each word with every cell of my body. I truly felt it.

    It was important to me to give love and to thank her and myself in those various points in time for the opportunity to expand my capacity for love and compassion.

    I found that when I am in a state of ever-expanding love and compassion, I am able to truly feel free. And for that, I am truly thankful.

    Extending our capacity for love and compassion toward ourselves, and those who have hurt us, also expands our capacity for love and compassion toward everyone and everything. I truly believe that if everyone were to proactively expand their capacity for love and compassion, the world would not only be a better place, but it would be the perfect place.

    I have found uses for this beyond grief, beyond our own healing, and beyond healing for other people. I have even found using this chant of compassion helpful in dealing with guilt from anything and everything—for people suffering road rage, for the cruelly treated caged animals in this world, for the injustices of our governments, even for the murderers, rapists, and terrorists, for they too are suffering deep within.

    I am now of the belief that the purpose of all hurt is to teach us love and compassion. For if we cannot grow from this, then there was no purpose for it. And if we can all grow from it, then humanity as a whole grows from it.

    I know I am particularly fortunate in my white middle class upbringing, and I know it may seem very easy for me to say that compassion makes the world go round, but I’ve also known great mental torment and grief. I have felt it with every cell of my body. And I know that this one simple practice has helped me to soften, and to free myself from the dissonance between my heart and my mind.

    If you are feeling loss, grief, hurt, or heartache, I encourage you to try this chant of compassion for yourself. Mean every word of it. Feel every word as you say it. Repeat it over and over, as often as you need, until you feel your body soften:

    I see you.
    I hear you.
    I feel you.
    I honor you.
    I love you.
    Thank you.

    Say it to yourself as you are feeling now. Say it to yourself in the past. Say it to people who are hurting you. Say it to people who have hurt you in the past.

    Feel yourself soften. Feel them soften. Allow yourself to expand your capacity for love and compassion. Give yourself this gift to set yourself free.

  • Take Back Your Power: Let Go of Blame and Focus on the Lesson

    Take Back Your Power: Let Go of Blame and Focus on the Lesson

    “When you blame others, you give up your power to change.” ~Robert Anthony

    Blame is seductive because it makes us right and them wrong. For a moment, it feels good to say, “It was their fault,” but in the long run holding on to blame only hurts us and does absolutely nothing to help our evolution. In fact, it keeps us stuck.

    But, I get it. When we feel wronged, upset, and angry, that person is the only one to blame.

    I understand that some things are so egregious and so unforgivable that it seems impossible to not default to blame. It’s almost instinctual. We are hard wired to blame.

    But I have come to learn the hard way that when we blame others, we avoid seeing the truth about ourselves. When we focus on what someone else did wrong, we’re not able to see our part and learn about what we need to do differently going forward.

    A while ago, I was in a toxic relationship that brought out the worst in me.

    I felt like I was the most incompetent and unlovable human being on this planet. My self-esteem was nonexistent. I gave far too much of myself in the name of love, without ever checking in with my heart or my body to feel whether this journey was serving me.

    Ultimately, as I abandoned myself, the relationship abandoned me: She cheated on me. After giving endlessly to this relationship, that was my payback. And just to add a cherry on top, she stole from me.

    I didn’t recognize myself. I was stripped of many things. I lost my ability to trust myself and others. I lost the ideals I’d once had about love. I lost respect for myself. I ignored my intuition. I forgot to honor the sacredness and preciousness of my heart. I lost my confidence. I lost my innocence. For a minute, I thought I had lost my soul. I felt completely empty.

    I remember that the blame, the anger, and the frustration were blinding. Every word I spoke and every thought that crossed my mind had one theme: I was the victim and she was wrong. I would happily share my story endlessly, and I made myself right every single time—and boy did it feel good to badmouth her over and over again.

    But when the dust settled a bit and I was able to step back from my anger-filled stupor, I realized that I was tired of this story. I was done with it. I was ready to do some healing because the burden of carrying blame and anger was weighing me down. It was heavy.

    What had happened no longer mattered; my desire to heal was greater than my desire to hold on to this story.

    With my journal in hand, some lavender in the air, and tears streaming down my face, I took three deep breaths, summoned the energy of blame, and for the first time I asked myself: “How did I contribute to this? What do I need to learn from this?” I then said, “Universe, I am ready to release this story. Show me the way.”

    My mind was screaming, “What! How dare you ask this question?” But my heart was proud of this because it was a moment of deep truth.

    This was a teachable moment for me. I stayed with the feeling as I closed my eyes and allowed the anger to consume me. And in that tornado of anger inside of me, I finally received insight.

    Once the storm inside me passed, I realized that I had never once spoke my truth in that relationship. I ignored every single red flag from the beginning. I had this notion that I could save people from themselves. I was arrogant in thinking that my love would heal anyone. I wanted to fix the world. I wanted to fix her. I abandoned myself.

    Then I asked, “But how can life do this to me when I was so giving, so genuine, and so authentic with my love?” The insight that came from that question was, “That’s not love, that’s self-abuse. It is not your job to save anyone.”

    And the lessons kept pouring in: From a spiritual perspective, and on a soul level, I know that it is beautiful to love everyone, but in this physical plane, we must pay attention to how people are showing up for us.

    We can’t ignore mistreatment or unhealthy behaviors in the name of love. We can love from afar, we can love from the other end of the world, but that doesn’t mean that we need to stay in a relationship with anyone who is on a very different path or with someone who is clearly living a highly toxic life.

    This blame that I was carrying came back to me tenfold. I was really just angry with myself for allowing something outside of me to have so much power over me, and for allowing something outside of me to override my own intuition and feelings.

    These realizations laid a foundation for my healing. From that moment, I became more conscious in my interactions. My boundaries strengthened and my relationship with myself began to flourish.

    I still had, and will forever have, a lot of work to do, but the minute I was willing to release blame I recharged my energy and took back my power. I realized that I do not want to be the passive observer in my life. I want to be as conscious as possible.

    In this moment of truth, I also learned that self-love is realizing that our bodies and our health are sacred, and holding on to blame destroys us on a physical, spiritual, and emotional level.

    The biggest epiphany I had is that we all came here to learn lessons, and some of the lessons will seem unfair, and occasionally way worse than what I share here. But I learned to surrender to this belief—the belief that my soul came here to learn lessons and that, if I can become the happy and willing student, there is so much wisdom to be gained from these moments of darkness.

    After feeling anger and blame for a while, most of us, myself included, just want to find some way to escape the pain, but if we simply ignore our feelings, we also shut down the message.

    I understand that this is one of the hardest things we as humans can do, but I promise you that there are treasures inside of you waiting to be uncovered during each moment of darkness.

    I realize that every instance of hurt warrants a different degree of blame, and the anger will vary. Some lessons will undoubtedly be much harder than others. But in the end, if we’re willing to surrender to these lessons and love ourselves through the most painful abuse and injustice, we will rise as warriors.

    We will rise as light workers. We will rise as healers. We will be the light in someone’s dark world. We will gain insight. We will have a chance to do it over in a different way.

    It’s time to take your power back. Begin today, pick any moment of darkness in your world, and start with this question: What do I need to learn from this?

    Breathe and just listen. Your body knows the answers.

  • The Wounds of Rejection Heal With Self-Love and Self-Awareness

    The Wounds of Rejection Heal With Self-Love and Self-Awareness

    “There is no magic cure, no making it all go away forever. There are only small steps upward; an easier day, an unexpected laugh, a mirror that doesn’t matter anymore.” ~Laurie Halse Anderson

    It began in elementary school. I was a chubby immigrant with a thick accent and hand-me-down clothes. I so badly wanted the other kids to like me, and I had no idea why everything I said and did seemed to push them away.

    My jokes and comments would trigger awkward silences or ridicule—especially in groups. Those moments were traumatizing, but they were also confusing. How could I make them like me?

    As I learned English, I found some company in the schoolyard, but I continued to be bullied for my weight, my clothes, my face that turned red so easily. It didn’t help when I started going through puberty at age nine, younger than every other girl in my class.

    In elementary school, I remember walking home one day when two boys followed me, calling out things like “Put on a few pounds this year, haven’t you?” I remember staring at my feet, putting one in front of the other, walking home as fast as I could.

    The wounds of being rejected, bullied, and ostracized buried deep. I never felt safe unless I was completely alone.

    In high school, I remember walking home once and realizing that a popular guy from a grade above was walking behind me. He didn’t say anything to me, but my heart started beating wildly, and I became hyperaware of my arms swinging back and forth. How awkward were these long appendages coming out of my body! How awkward was I!

    Even though I would walk home as fast as I could, I didn’t feel any safer around my family. In my parents’ house, emotional expression wasn’t encouraged or accepted. The only safe place was alone with myself.

    But as time went on, the anxiety I felt about other people’s opinions of me crept into my alone time too. I worried. I ruminated. I overanalyzed.

    It was difficult to live in fear all the time, so I developed all kinds of ineffective habits that helped me feel in control. I starved myself. I lied. I got addicted to anything I could get my hands on.

    I’ve been on a long journey of healing—not only the toxic ways I had learned to avoid feeling discomfort around other people but also the scars that caused that discomfort in the first place. The path has been long and hard. I’m still walking it.

    I’ve learned a few things that have been helpful. For example, I’ve learned to find the thoughts that trigger anxiety in social situations and question them. I’ve found the places in my body where I tense up when I think this way, and I’ve learned how to relax them.

    I’ve learned that the feeling of rejection won’t kill me (while running from it almost did). I’ve learned to sit with all kinds of uncomfortable emotions without running away.

    I’ve learned to reduce my overall anxiety levels with exercise, lower caffeine intake, journaling, mindfulness, and lots of alone time.

    I’ve learned that working out before social occasions lowers the chance of being triggered. I’ve learned that allowing some time afterward to replay social situations in my head actually helps—as long as I give myself a time limit and wrap up with some self-loving thoughts when the time is done.

    I’ve learned that, sometimes, I should actually take the advice of my self-judgment and change how I talk to people. I’m still learning about which advice to take and which to leave. I’ve learned to be gentle with myself while I figure it out.

    When I first went a few months without falling into a deep self-judgment hole, I thought I was cured. I thought I would feel free in social situations forevermore. But life had other plans.

    I have learned to think of social anxiety and fear of rejection as allergies. I’m allergic to thoughts like “Do they like me? What should I do to make them like me? What did I say wrong? What should I do so they don’t think I’m weird?” Most of the time, I can avoid falling into old patterns. I hear those thoughts and think, “Nope, I’m allergic to that. That’s not good for me.”

    But sometimes, I don’t catch the thoughts until it’s too late. Or I start having them when I’m tired or stressed out. Or I experience a series of rejections and don’t have enough time to process through them before my emotions and thoughts weave into a tight downward spiral.

    It happens. It happened last week. It lasted for four days. I’ve learned to forgive myself, be gentle, and know that I’m doing my best.

    I have friends with celiac disease who experience side effects for at least a few days when they eat gluten. At that point, the damage has already been done. The only thing they can do is not make it worse. So that’s what I try to do as well.

    I try not to judge myself for being stuck in self-judgment for a few days. That makes it easier to deal with. I try to think of it as my mind being swollen and sick. It needs time to heal. It needs love and patience. It doesn’t need more of the thing that made it sick in the first place.

    Each time my mind gets swollen with judgment, I have an opportunity to talk to myself with love, patience, and kindness. I also have an opportunity to learn more about myself. I try to extract some wisdom out of each period of suffering.

    I used to want to get rid of this for good, but lately, I’m realizing that maybe I never will be. Maybe it really is like an allergy. No matter how well I can learn to avoid the things that make me feel horrible, they will always be bad for me.

    Although these episodes are still unpleasant, I no longer feel helpless when they come. I’ve been practicing. I feel a sense of accomplishment each time I can navigate through periods of self-doubt with self-love and honesty.

    I can’t control what makes me sick, but I can be a kind, loving nurse to myself when I get that way. And that gives me some sense of control over the situation.

    I couldn’t control what happened in the past. And I’ve realized I can’t control my triggers in the present. But I can control how I respond to those triggers. And if I fail to respond differently, then I can control how I respond to that failure.

    However small, there is always room for a choice. And instead of focusing on what I can’t do, I’m trying to focus on what I can.

    It’s a hard road. If you’re in the middle of a similar journey, I hope you’ll cut yourself some slack and give yourself some credit for how far you’ve come. You’re doing the best you can, and that’s more than enough.

  • 7 Self-Love Practices That Helped Me Heal from a Devastating Divorce

    7 Self-Love Practices That Helped Me Heal from a Devastating Divorce

    “Unlike self-criticism, which asks if you’re good enough, self-compassion asks what’s good for you?” ~Kristin Neff

    My husband and family were my world. Although I’d found joy in my passion of writing, my heart revolved around my marriage. I thought we were happy. Then one day, he dropped the bomb: “I don’t love you anymore.”

    Two weeks later, I found out he’d fallen in love with another woman who lived across the world. He didn’t want me anymore.

    Sure, I’d known for a while something was wrong—that knowing deep in your gut that you can’t put your finger on, that tackles you in the quiet hours of the night, making it hard for you to sleep. That taunts you with fear when he doesn’t act as loving toward you as he used to. But I ignored it, because he was my world.

    I’d fallen in love with him at a time when my self-esteem wasn’t too good. Social rejection at school, losing a parent at a young age, and being steeped in a very strict religion had all played their parts in making me feel that I wasn’t good enough. He made me feel loved and wanted. I was codependent and I didn’t even know it.

    The next few months, after he took the rug out from under my world, I felt like I was dying. The pain, the rejection, and the hurt were all-encompassing, but I had a little light inside me. It was called hope. I suddenly had this hunger to heal, to become strong, and to find my truth. I began my self-love journey.

    It all started when I read Choosing Me Before We, by Christine Arylo. She spoke about self-love in her amazing book. I realized that if I ever went into another relationship, I would put myself first. I wouldn’t go into something giving and giving and giving, knowing my own needs weren’t met. I would run far away from a man who used me in any way. I would turn away from anything less than true intimacy and love.

    The problem was, in the loneliness, I entered into a rebound relationship, despite what I’d decided. The deep hole left in my heart made me blind to how harmful it was. The relationship was much worse than anything I’d experienced in my sometimes dysfunctional marriage. I had to learn the hard way. I eventually turned away, eyes finally wide open. But I’ve grown. And grown.

    This is how I’ve healed through self-love, because self-love is the foundation of emotional and mental well-being.

    Non-Judgment

    When divorce hits you right between the eyes, you get flung into the five stages of grief with no mercy. They assault your soul like a tsunami. But they also wash over you and heal you.

    I learned to let myself grieve. It was painful. I had to keep coming back to the same pain and sorrow, the same anger and “why?” questions, over and over again. But I let the waves hit me again and again. After awhile, they were smaller, gentler, more manageable.

    I didn’t judge myself for my pain. I grew in my self-compassion and non-judgment. I learned to love, nurture, and coddle myself. Gentleness was my motto. And that helped me heal.

    Self-Respect

    When you’re steeped in a judgmental, strict religion, it’s hard to grow up with self-respect. You believe you were born in sin, and that you are this weak being who is bound by it. You are hard on yourself because of the rules imposed on you.

    As the scales fell away from my eyes, I began to see that I’m a beautiful being. I’m worthy of respect. I am good to the core. We all are, but sometimes the mirror is cracked.

    It’s hard to always respect yourself, but once I made that decision, I grew by leaps and bounds. I also realized how my ex’s words and actions had broken me down at times—or more so, I’d allowed his perception of me to affect the way I saw myself.

    Now I could accept myself no matter whether I was having a good hair day or not, and even though I wasn’t this skinny youngster anymore. I could accept myself even when I didn’t act like a saint or I didn’t feel great! Non-judgment—I’m a work in progress.

    No matter what shape my body is, I respect it because it’s beautiful and does amazing things. I still have bad days when I want to pull my curls out as they don’t cooperate or I want to get rid of the rolls around my middle, but then, mindfully, I remind myself that it’s the heart that matters. And that society has lied to me on what is beautiful. Society has honored perfection, not authenticity and true beauty.

    Boundaries

    This is a hard one for me, but as I’ve begun to set boundaries around me, to protect myself from people taking advantage, my sense of safety has increased. I’ve chosen to be single for now, as I know I’m not ready to enter into a relationship without falling back into codependency and losing myself again. I’m relishing in my freedom and the growth of self-love.

    If I entered into a relationship now, I wouldn’t keep up the right boundaries because I would jump over hoops to keep this person in my life—hoops that hurt me. I have often given parts of myself to a man before I wanted to, just to keep him interested. No more!

    Boundaries comes in all shapes and sizes, and whenever we say “yes” when we want to say “no,” we are being unkind to ourselves. It’s hard because there is a spot inside of us that loves to help and please people. And it feeds something in us. So, we have to find the balance. I’m a student of self-love and I’m learning the balance every day.

    Self-Nuture

    I’ve learned to find ways to nuture myself, and I’ve actually had a blast. In making sure I have a daily spiritual ritual, I’ve bought myself a few special things, I’ve joined a dance group to meet people and to just have fun, and I’ve taken up a hobby to just unwind; I’m thoroughly enjoying my freedom.

    I didn’t realize how much of my energy I’d put into making my husband happy. All because I was afraid he would leave me. I bent over backward for him and oftentimes, didn’t feel free to just be myself and put “me” first.

    I’m loving putting me first; even with having three teens to look after and running a busy household, my downtime is my time. It’s been healing my soul. I feel like I’m just starting on this journey of self-nuture and self-love. I can’t wait to discover more. But even the little bit I’ve learned has changed my whole mindset on life.

    A Spiritual Practice

    I began a meditation practice around about the time my marriage broke down. It grew as my desperation grew, especially during a very difficult time after experiencing crime as a single woman. This practice has become the lifeblood of my existence. It has helped me to calm deep anxiety, find peace, grow spiritually, and learn mindfulness.

    As I’ve become more mindful, I’ve grown aware of when I sabotage myself with negativity and anxiety. It’s not always easy. But I have hope and my peace is growing.

    Meditation has taught me how to be me and how to connect with the divine. It’s taught me the value of silence and taking things slower, of breathing and resting. The joy of listening and tapping into higher consciousness and the higher self.

    Alongside my meditation practice, I also have a self-Reiki practice every day to balance my energy, heal me, and give me peace.

    I’ve been devouring spiritual books and growing in my faith in the Universe and my knowledge. I’ve opened my eyes to see truth in many faiths and practices. It’s enlightened my soul. It’s put me on the path of love and peace.

    Self-Knowledge

    I’ve learned to tap into my intuition. Yes, I’ve had several men take an interest in me. I’ve learned to say “no,” because my gut says “no.” It’s been hard. When you’re lonely, you’re keen to have someone in your life, but I’ve learned to listen to that voice inside and say “no” when it hasn’t felt right deep in my gut.

    I’ve grown in my intuition practice by doing Reiki, reading oracle and tarot cards for myself (such a powerful mirror into the soul), practicing soul writing, and just plain going with that deep, inner voice. I’ve grown more aware of miracles and synchronicities; I’ve grown in gratefulness.

    Finding tools to get in touch with my higher self / Spirit has been essential in this time of my life. I’ve had to grow up fast. When I married my husband, I was young and naïve. He was the main breadwinner and head of the home. I’ve had to learn greater responsibilities and make big decisions for my family, instead of relying on him to steer the ship.

    Being able to access my higher self has led me to make more guided and calmer decisions. It’s increased my sense of peace and wholeness as I’m following my true desires and that still, gentle voice that’s deep inside. It’s enabled me to navigate difficult relationships and situations with a sound mind. Yes, I sometimes get it wrong, but it’s like a fitness routine—the more you practice it, the better you get.

    Letting Go

    I think the hardest part for me has been to let go and forgive. Together, hurt and resentment have been the one wave that has broken most violently upon my shore. But part of self-love is forgiveness.

    We only harm ourselves when we refuse to forgive those who have hurt us. Yet, as much as we know this fact, it’s not always possible to feel forgiveness straight away. In fact, it’s taken me one and a half years since that dreadful day to start to see the light. Today, I prayed for the well-being of my ex and the woman he left me for. And I meant it! I want their highest good.

    The thing that has actually helped me to forgive the most is to realize my own worthiness. As soon as I chose to believe that I wasn’t responsible for what happened or that there wasn’t something dreadfully flawed about me which made him leave me, the desire to blame disintegrated. I released and validated myself and it became easier to release him. I began to see him as a human being with his own hurt and pain—that’s why he’d hurt me.

    I have to choose daily to release him and what happened back to the Universe. I choose daily to believe that what has happened is being used for my good. And it is. I can see how much I’ve grown. I can see how love has worked this whole thing out to make me feel more loved and more supported.

    What I’d deeply feared happened to me, and I’m still okay. I’m more than okay! I now know that it will always be okay. That deep inside, no matter what happens to us, we’ll be okay. We are whole; we are love; we are connected. We are growing and evolving toward better beings. We are deeply, irrevocably loved!! I’m going to practice that love every day. It’s called self-love.

  • How to Stop Feeling Lonely and Escape the Emotional Eating Cycle

    How to Stop Feeling Lonely and Escape the Emotional Eating Cycle

    “When you no longer believe that eating will save your life when you feel exhausted or overwhelmed or lonely, you will stop. When you believe in yourself more than you believe in food, you will stop using food as if it were your only chance at not falling apart.” ~Geneen Roth

    I used to eat because I was lonely.

    Lunch hour at school would last nine billion years. I’d have no one to sit with—I was spotty and mega bossy, and my hobby was copying pages from anthropology books.

    Everyone would put a sweater on the chair next to them, so I’d have to sit further away. Then, just as I’d pick up my fork, they’d up and leave anyway! “Oh well,” I’d think, “If I eat slowly I can make my fries last till the bell goes.”

    I switched to packed lunches to avoid the dining hall. But I didn’t want to be spotted alone on a windowsill, so I’d eat my sandwiches in a toilet cubicle.

    After, I’d feel full, but unsatisfied. And still have time to kill! So I’d go to the dinner hall and buy a meat pie. I felt sad and gross.

    The truth was, I didn’t know how to be a friend, let alone make one. I was full of resentment toward other kids.

    I acted superior but felt inferior. I was needy, or tried to impress them.

    I didn’t think friendship was something people learned—I thought there was something wrong with me. That I’d be this way forever.

    I also hated that I couldn’t resist overeating. Since my family was big on brown rice and organic vegetables, I felt guilty for buying junk food.

    When I hit my teens, I became body-conscious. I panicked that comfort food would make me fat. I wasn’t! But I thought my thighs were big, and clenched my stomach in all day. All day!

    I felt too embarrassed to ask anyone—especially my parents—for help. I thought they’d say I was greedy. Or lecture me about eating crap. Or take me to a doctor—humiliating!

    I didn’t know it was called “emotional eating,” but I was pretty sure it was bad. So I kept quiet.

    I thought: “I can fix this myself. I just need the self-discipline to eat less!”

    Going on improvised diets made things a whole new level of worse: binge eating, bulimia, and feeling utterly obsessed and depressed about food.

    It took seven years before I found a way to recover.

    I wish I’d known how to deal with lonely emotional eating in the first place, instead of going off on an eating disorder tangent!

    So if you’re dealing with a double-whammy of eating and loneliness yourself, here are eight simple steps. They will guide you through solving your emotional eating, and your loneliness, from the inside out.

    1. Imagine your life without emotional eating, and shift focus away from guilt and shame.

    You’re not greedy. You’re not gross. You’re not ill. You’re just trying to cope with a fear: abandonment.

    It’s the emotional fear we’re born with. Outside the tribal circle, a baby would die. The primitive part of your brain thinks, “I’m alone—I’ll starve!”

    It’s how you’re wired, so give yourself a break.

    If you waste your energy wrestling with guilt and shame over eating, you’ll never tackle the real emotional challenge—loneliness.

    So when guilt and shame come up, shift your focus.

    Imagine a peaceful relationship with food. Imagine eating when you’re actually hungry. Visualize slowly nourishing yourself.

    2. Loneliness is a self-worth issue, so become willing to work on your self-worth.

    It’s like this: You’re by yourself. That’s not loneliness, that’s solitude.

    Sometimes it’s nice, but sometimes you don’t have a choice. Uh-oh!

    Mind games start: you imagine it’s because you’re unlovable.

    That’s loneliness. Low self-worth, in disguise.

    If you’re lonely, it’s easy to think you could earn your self-worth back by changing something external.

    You think, “If I found a great partner, then I’d know I was lovable.”

    Or you think, “I’ll be worth loving once I get a grip on my emotional eating and lose weight.”

    But that’s not how it works! Self-worth isn’t something you earn. Or that drops in your lap either.

    You choose to create it.

    So ask yourself: How can I work on my self-worth?

    (Don’t worry if you don’t know yet. Some ideas are coming up…)

    3. Spend some quality time with yourself.

    Are you enjoying your time by yourself? Or just watching TV?

    Imagine you treated a child the way you treat yourself on a too-tired evening.

    Browsing Facebook when they say, “Play with me.” Sending them to the fridge to scavenge instead of cooking dinner. Binge-watching Netflix instead of putting them to bed when they’re tired.

    They’d feel hurt, and start believing they weren’t worth spending time with. They’d also start misbehaving wildly to get your attention!

    The same is true for how you feel about yourself. When we ignore our inner selves, we start to believe we are worthless, and an emotional eating crisis is a great way for our heart and soul to grab our attention.

    Spend some quality time with yourself.

    Take yourself on a date, just you and you.

    Play (build a go-cart, paint your room), be in your body (move, bathe, meditate), or relax (read, whistle, sit in nature).

    Self-worth grows as you self-connect, so every little counts.

    4. Create thoughts that give an inkling of self-worth.

    When I was rock bottom with food and loneliness, my thoughts were dominated by failure, being a victim, and believing change was impossible.

    Stuff like “I’m gonna be lonely forever,” and “I hate my body, I hate myself for eating, and I’m too pathetic to stop.”

    Three positive thoughts in particular helped me out of my pit.

    They didn’t tell me directly I was worthy or fabulous—saying anything saccharine about my life would have felt like gloss painting a turd.

    They just implied a basic level of self-worth.

    They were: “I’m part of life unfolding.” (I’m not in a vacuum. Even though I feel totally dissociated and alone, I’m still participating in life on the planet.)

    “I really care about my body.” (I’m upset I overate again. But I couldn’t get upset if I were indifferent… So on some level, I must care!)

    And: “Things are already changing.” (Repeating this phrase is a positive action… So maybe I won’t always be like this).

    Find one thought that implies you aren’t your worst fears. That makes you feel worthy-ish. Then repeat it like you’re being paid a piece rate to do so.

    5. Explore how you’ve created loneliness.

    Try this: It’s funny!

    Imagine someone wants to master the art of loneliness. Lucky for them, you’ve honed the perfect system!

    Write down what you’d teach them.

    My own Perfect System for Staying Lonely says: “Don’t have a calendar for friends’ birthdays. Tell yourself that you’re too broke to buy gifts, cards, or book a babysitter.”

    And: “Get hired for shift work, and rehearse theatre shows every weekend.” I disconnected from my relationship like that that for the first five years of my marriage! (Thankfully, the guy’s a legend.)

    The point is, I thought loneliness happened to me.

    But I make myself lonely, when I don’t need to be. Years after my schooldays are behind me, I lead myself back to that painful-yet-familiar place. It’s called a comfort zone.

    It doesn’t mean it’s your fault you’re lonely—this isn’t about blame. This is actually good news: If you’re doing it, you can undo it.

    6. List everything that your loneliness buys you.

    An excuse not to face trust issues?

    A reason to avoid intimacy?

    A cover for social anxiety?

    I know it’s not obvious that loneliness has advantages, but sometimes it’s a way to avoid something even more scary or painful.

    Me? Loneliness excuses me from owning my introvert personality. Intimacy makes me feel vulnerable, and rejection scares the crap outta me.

    These hidden benefits to your loneliness are called “payoffs.” It pays off to explore them!

    Because they’re the reason you’re creating loneliness, even though it hurts.

    7. Explore the ripple effect of loneliness in your life.

    You’d expect loneliness to make you shy at parties, or reluctant to date.

    But has it changed you in other ways?

    Unhealthy self-reliance has made me a nightmare to cook with. And low self-worth has taken its toll on my financial outlook.

    Clean out your worldview.

    Defy your loneliness-inspired beliefs about what you can and can’t do (like, ask someone to chop the mushrooms while you stir the risotto, or ask your boss for a raise).

    It’s a great way to un-victim yourself.

    8. Finally, when you’ve done all that inner work, break up your emotional eating habit.

    Habits weld to each other! Drinking and smoking. Driving and talking to yourself in a variety of accents. Lonely emotional eating and—?

    Break the links.

    Don’t just say to yourself “Stop eating toast.” Don’t make any rules about what you eat.

    Instead, change how you eat. If you don’t know how you eat, slow down.

    Notice what you do at each stage of your emotional eating habit—beforehand, during, after, where, when, with what planning.

    Do any part of your habit differently.

    Say you eat ten slices of buttered toast and jam in front of the TV each evening. Buy different butter that you don’t like so much. Put the TV (or the toaster) in the cellar. Create an eating area, keep the sofa for relaxing. Shop differently. Go out.

    Keep disrupting your habit, and it will eventually dissipate.

    Habit change takes patience, and sometimes repeated attempts too.

    But break up your habit from enough angles, and you’ll eventually find you’ve replaced it with a way to enjoy food again.

    —

    The way I think of it, addressing loneliness is 88% of the solution for emotional eating from loneliness.

    When I solved my eating struggles, I spent a couple of years of journaling and becoming aware of my beliefs, thoughts, and feelings. Then, only a month or two of habit change.

    I know a couple of years sounds really long! Perhaps it will take less time for you. The point is, this isn’t a quick fix. Quick fixes rarely address the underlying issues.

    It’s tempting to rush. To try to skip straight to solving the eating—out-of-control eating feels unbearable and you want it to stop, like, yesterday—but if that hasn’t been working for you, or you’ve even ended up binge eating like I did, give yourself permission and time to go deeper.

    Trust me, changing an emotional eating habit is much easier when it’s just eating, and the compulsion part has had your loving attention.

    So good luck, and don’t rush.

  • Be Good to Yourself: 10 Powerful Ways to Practice Self-Love

    Be Good to Yourself: 10 Powerful Ways to Practice Self-Love

    “Self-love, self-respect, self-worth: There’s a reason they all start with ‘self.’ You can’t find them in anyone else.” ~Unknown

    It was one of those nights.

    I was in a busy New York bar, having fun and enjoying myself. That was, until someone asked me: “So, what do you do?”

    Within a few seconds my fun, happy, playful side vanished and in entered a girl full of doubts and insecurity.

    The truth was… I had no freaking idea about what I was doing! I had just left my corporate job and now I was on a journey to discover what I truly wanted to do in life.

    That question stripped me down to feeling naked and exposed. Because I didn’t have a job title.  (Unless “I-don’t-know-what-I’m-doing-with-my-life” works?) I had nothing externally to “prove” my worthiness with.

    I’ve always been pretty confident. My dad used to give me incentives for challenging myself. “Climb up that wall and I’ll buy you an ice cream.” “Be Santa Claus for your siblings and you’ll get that nail polish you really want.”

    So, I never had a problem saying yes to things, such as taking job offers abroad and accepting challenging positions and demanding projects. Of course I had moments of doubt, but even when I doubted myself, I always said yes and found a solution one way or another.

    Until that moment in the bar, I had (unconsciously, of course) proved my worth through my achievements. I had thought of myself as someone who valued herself no matter the job title, relationship status, or bank account condition.

    But, when I left my job and other external things fell apart, so did my value. Or at least, that’s what it felt like.

    In short, I had confused self-confidence with self-esteem. Oops!

    Here’s what I mean by this:

    Self-confidence is about trusting yourself and your abilities. For example, you can be confident in one area, such as cooking, dancing, or communicating, but then insecure in another, such as dancing or public speaking.

    Self-esteem, on the other hand, is about how you see yourself. It’s about your perception of your worth. No matter what happens on the outside, do you treat yourself with love, care, and respect or not?

    As a high-achiever, it’s easy to trick yourself and think you have self-esteem. I mean, as long as you perform and do well, it’s all good, right?

    Yeah, until you don’t. That’s when the sh*t hits the fan…

    When I realized that I saw myself as less worthy, cool, and interesting because of my external circumstances, I decided this wasn’t good enough for me. And it shouldn’t be good enough for you either, if this resonates. As they say, your biggest breakdowns often become your greatest breakthroughs.

    So, I got to work. This time, not by proving my value, but by practicing self-love. Below are some of the most powerful ways I’ve discovered to do just that:

    1. Focus on being someone who loves.

    If you’re in a place today where you don’t love yourself, it’s hard to take a quantum leap and become someone who does. Just like when you’re building muscles, self-love takes consistent practice.

    Instead of loving yourself, focus on being someone who loves. That is, allow love to flow through you as often as possible. Focus on what you love about the people you meet. Focus on what you appreciate while going to the store, sitting in a meeting, or while speaking to someone. Simply, adjust your body to positive emotions by finding as many things to love and appreciate as possible.

    2. Tap into what it looks and feels like to be loved.

    It’s easy to be loving toward ourselves when things go as planned, when we succeed and people like us. Not so much when stuff falls apart, we screw up or get rejected. When we struggle the most, that’s also when we tend to be hardest on ourselves.

    In those moments, ask yourself how someone who loves you deeply you would act. What would they say? What would they do? How would they behave? Odds are, they wouldn’t criticize, judge, and berate you. They’d offer you kindness, compassion, and acceptance. If you can’t think about a specific person or memory, imagine how the most loving human on this planet would be toward you. Then practice being that toward yourself.

    3. Stop comparing yourself.

    Comparison is a killer to self-love. And we aren’t usually very nice when it comes to comparisons, right? Instead, we take our greatest flaws and compare them to someone else’s greatest success. In short, you’re doomed to fail.

    Instead, realize that you write your story. Realize that you can’t compare your life to someone else’s because no matter how well you know them, you never know how they feel or how they perceive their life. Instead, spend your time and energy to nourish and build your path.

    4. Take baby steps to create the life you long for.

    Desires are powerful. And so, to take action turn those dreams into reality is to honor and care for yourself. By taking daily actions, you signal that you’re worthy of living the life you desire.

    It doesn’t have to be big action—just small and consistent steps in the direction that stirs joy, care, and excitement. This demonstrates that you care and respect your dreams and thus yourself. Has there ever been a better time to do that than now?

    5. Ask your guidance system for help.

    Imagine that your emotions are guiding you. When you feel good about yourself, it means that what you’re thinking is aligned with how your soul/higher self sees you. When you feel bad about yourself, it’s a red flag telling you that a change of perspective is needed

    If you think a thought such as “I am [something you don’t like about yourself],” how does that feel? Probably not so good, right? Then it’s a sign to think a different thought. Try to replace that with something kinder. For example, “I’m just so lost and confused” can be replaced with “I’m doing the best I can to move forward.”

    6. Surround yourself with people you feel good with.

    Oh, this is an important one! You may have heard Jim Rohn’s famous quote before: “You are the average of the five people you spend the most time with.” Think about who those people currently are. Do they inspire, fill you up, and want what’s best for you?

    Just because you’ve been friends doesn’t mean you need to keep spending time together. Just because you’re taking a break from someone, doesn’t mean you won’t be close again. Be picky about who you spend your time with—don’t give it away in the spirit of mercy. (That’s not nice, neither to you or the other person). Be there because you want to; otherwise, don’t.

    7. Be compassionate when sh*t hits the fan.

    So many of us (myself included) tend to beat ourselves down when we need our love the most. When we fail or screw up or someone rejects us, that’s the time we often get even more down on ourselves. Beating someone who’s lying down, sounds fair? Um, nope.

    So instead, choose to be most loving and forgiving with yourself when things don’t go as planned. When you stumble and fall. When you say the wrong things. When someone rejects you or a project fails. Ask yourself what you need and then spray that all over yourself.

    8. Make room for healthy habits.

    Yep yep! Start truly caring for yourself by mirroring that in what you eat, how you exercise, and what you spend time doing. Do stuff, not to “get it done” or because you “have to,” but because you care about you.

    Don’t feel like going to the gym? Then maybe put on a soul-soothing podcast and go for a walk. Create habits that are healthy, not just mentally but also emotionally.

    9. Postpone your worry and negative thoughts.

    Are you ready for a really great tip? If so, then get excited. A very powerful technique I recently discovered is called a “worry-free month” (named it myself). Think about how much of your worry that actually serves you. Sure, some of the worry has a purpose, as it tends to give us a little kick when we need to get our sh*t together and start acting.

    But, my guess is that 97% of it is useless. Whenever those thoughts enter your mind, tell them, “Thanks, but I’ll deal with this next month.” By telling your mind that you’ll deal with it later (plus saying when), you stop feeding negative thoughts and thus decrease its momentum. Then, you simply do this month after month.

    10. Accept what you cannot love.

    This might have been the greatest game-changer for me. Because let’s face it: It’s easy to love what you love about yourself and not so easy with the things you don’t. So, instead of even aiming to love those parts, which will probably just make your mind go “Are you kidding me?”, focus on accepting them.

    One thing I’ve had a hard time accepting about myself is that at times, and for no real reason, I can get very nervous. Simple things, such as going to the supermarket can feel very difficult. Instead of rejecting or trying to love this nervous side of myself, I’m reminding myself to accept it. When it happens, I’ll tell myself something along the lines of “It’s okay, I can be nervous going to the supermarket today. It’s not the end of the world.”

    You don’t need to love everything about yourself to develop self-love; all you need is acceptance. Next time something happens that makes you want to get down on yourself, see this as your practice to accept what is.

    Care for the World by Caring for Yourself’

    Life is full of ups and down. Health can transfer into disease. Successes can be turned into collapses. Romantic love can be transformed into coldness. But, no matter what happens on the outside, we can still have a solid foundation built on self-love.

    Self-love isn’t a luxury; it’s a necessity in today’s society. So, start implementing some of the practices above and most of all, have compassion with yourself when you fall short. Then simply brush yourself off and get back into it again. As they say, practice makes perfect.

    Finally, realize that by caring for yourself, you care for this world. Your actions have a ripple effect on others.

  • The One Realization That Helped Me Forgive Myself and My Father

    The One Realization That Helped Me Forgive Myself and My Father

    “Do the best you can until you know better. Then when you know better, do better.”
    ~Maya Angelou

    Sunlight shone through the living room window. A lazy Sunday afternoon. I lounged on the couch reading a book with my dog cuddled at my feet. My love had just set out to purchase a new set of acoustic guitar strings. Soon he would return, and music would fill our home, adding to my sense of blissful peace.

    The telephone rang. I could see from the caller ID it was my father. “Good,” I thought. “It’s been a few weeks. I wonder what he’s been up to.”

    His voice was filled with rage. “I’m dying!” he screamed. “You are killing me.”

    “What’s this about?” I placed my book on the table. I was not alarmed; my father has been talking about his death for decades. I was only curious how his heart condition had suddenly become my doing.

    “Did you get a marriage certificate yet?” he asked angrily.

    “No,” I said. “We haven’t. That isn’t happening.”

    My father erupted again. “I’ll probably have another stroke! My arms are tingling. It could be a heart attack—heart attack number three. This one will be your fault. I can’t sleep. I can’t even take a shit. I ate two bowls of fiber yesterday and nothing came out of me.”

    “That’s not my fault.”

    “It is your fault! The anxiety is killing me. Get the marriage certificate, please. It’s what normal people do. If you don’t get that thing, it’ll be the official cause of my death.”

    “You should talk to someone about this. A therapist maybe.”

    “I’m not talking to anybody.”

    “Then pray,” I said. “Meditate.”

    He was silent for a moment, then he scoffed at me. “I’ll go to Afghanistan. I’ll become a missionary. I’ll kill as many ragheads as I can before they capture me. You know how my dad died?”

    I did, but I knew I was going to hear the story again.

    “The snow was deep that morning. There’d just been a big Chicago blizzard. He asked me to shovel the driveway, but I went out with my buddies instead. He died that morning of a heart attack while he was shoveling. I’ve lived with that guilt for over 50 years. I’ll never forgive myself. You’re going to live with the guilt of killing me. Never forget that. I’m planting that in your head right now.”

    “That’s not a nice thing to do. I’m not the one killing you. Your own mind is doing the killing.”

    “It’s you.”

    “There’s no reason for you to be so upset.”

    “You’re not even really married!”

    “That doesn’t matter to us. We’re happy the way things are. If it helps bring you peace, just pretend we never had any kind of ceremony. Pretend we’re still dating.”

    “You know what? I’m done with you.” My father hung up the phone.

    —

    This was not the first time I’d been disowned by my father. I can count on both hands the times he’d chosen to end his relationship with me—sometimes for months, sometimes for years—always because a lifestyle choice on my end didn’t align with how he thought I should be living (e.g.: when I became a vegetarian, or traveled to Morocco, or lived with a gay roommate…)

    In truth, I was surprised that earlier that month after I first told my father that my boyfriend and I had flown to Scotland for a hand-fasting ceremony, he had expressed actual happiness and excitement for me. “Congratulations!” he’d beamed. “I’m happy for you guys. Those pictures of the Highlands are beautiful. What a beautiful country.”

    I remember thinking, “Well, that went well. That could have gone in so many directions. I’m glad he’s happy for me.”

    And I’m sure he was, in that moment, until his chronic anxiety returned—and he didn’t know how to deal with it other than to blame me.

    If my father died tomorrow, would I feel guilty? Would I blame myself for his death?

    No, I would not.

    I would be devastated. He’s my father; I love him dearly, despite our differences. He raised me as best he could, and I am grateful for that.

    But I will not accept responsibility for the mental anguish from which he suffers. The choices my father makes that support his unhealthy ways have nothing to do with me.

    We—the rest of the family—have tried for years to help him, but he refuses to change his habits: the poor eating (he just developed type 2 diabetes), the rejection of exercise, the harmful outbursts toward others, the fearful world he’s created inside his head.

    To be clear: I do not discount the severity of anxiety, depression, or PTSD. I’ve battled with depression myself; I understand it’s not as simple as “thinking positively” or “snapping out of it.” It often requires careful and tender care—whether that care is spiritual, therapeutic, medical, or a combination of the three. However, it is my belief that an illness of the mind is not an acceptable justification for emotionally, psychologically, or physically abusive behaviors.

    That’s all I’ll say about mental health because 1) I’m not a doctor and 2) this is not meant to be a story about illness; this is an exploration of forgiveness.

    As far as my father’s situation is concerned, I require no self-forgiveness. I will not regret the way I have always loved and accepted him.

    I will feel sad that he never forgave himself for his own father’s death. He was just 16 the winter his dad died from that heart attack. My father hadn’t known any better.

    And I will feel sad that my father never forgave himself for some of the choices he made as a soldier during the Vietnam War. He would never admit that those actions require any level of self-forgiveness, but I think the remorse is buried somewhere deep inside his heart—perhaps somewhere alongside his acceptance of me.

    Forgiveness is a tricky thing.

    It wasn’t difficult for me to forgive my father for the emotional violence he discharged upon our family over the years, ultimately causing my mother to leave him, and contributing to the struggles shared by my sister and me as we fumbled through adulthood attempting to construct better paradigms of what healthy relationships with men could be (i.e. we learned we didn’t need to tolerate crazy tantrums, or tiptoe on eggshells to prevent unpredictable sieges on peace.)

    But we didn’t blame our dad. We acknowledged his influence, forgave him for being imperfect, and moved on with our lives.

    I find this to be true with many human beings: forgiving others isn’t the hardest part. Forgiving ourselves is where we struggle.

    Self-forgiveness is directly tied to self-acceptance. The more we learn to forgive ourselves for our imperfections and growing pains, the more love and acceptance we allow our hearts to feel toward ourselves and others. I believe that if my father truly loved and accepted himself, it would be easier for him to peacefully love and accept those around him. Perhaps that serenity begins with self-forgiveness.

    Where there is forgiveness, there is acceptance, and where there is acceptance, there is peace.

    One of my sweet friends is struggling with the guilt from two abortions she had a decade ago. The trauma surrounding the events re-surfaced in her life last year, and she cried in my arms wondering if she’d ever be able to forgive herself.

    I told her it wasn’t helpful to hold ourselves hostage to the past. Guilt is not necessary as a reminder of our less-than-perfect decisions; we can learn from the past and make better choices moving forward, without weighing ourselves down with shame.

    —

    I woke up one morning recently and didn’t want to get out of bed. I’d become plagued by all the little lies I’d ever told to those who loved me.

    And what of the illusions I’d built in my own head? The ways I lied to me?

    Or the decisions I’d made thinking of self-preservation, instead of the greatest good?

    I dwelled in remorse until I realized: in each of those situations—I’d done the best I could at the time.

    I realized I wasn’t the same person I was five years ago, two years ago, or even yesterday. And the self-punishment I was putting myself through was not going to change anything. The best I could do was forgive the younger, less-wise, less aware version of myself, then move forward as a wiser, more evolved human being.

    I climbed out of bed and sat in front of my altar, placing both hands over my heart. I sent a blessing to everyone in my life, then to all sentient beings. Then I did something I rarely ever do and probably should do more often: I closed my eyes, filled my palms with light and warmth, and gave a blessing to myself.

    I forgave myself for any strategy, plan, or chess game played during the end of difficult relationships, when I was negotiating the safest and calmest way to exit to my freedom. You did the best you could. Next time, you’ll do better.

    I forgave myself for misinterpreting dreams, visions, intuitions, and strong feelings. Sometimes I wanted so badly for something to be true, I pushed it the extra mile in the direction of the Truth-horizon, when all the while it was meant to remain in a field of uncertainty. You did the best you could. Next time, you’ll do better.

    I forgave myself for disconnecting from the people, places, and experiences that didn’t nurture my spirit or bring me peace. Those people may have felt abandoned or unsure why I’d suddenly felt the need to change my life in a way that no longer involved them—and my explanations hadn’t satisfied their questioning. You did the best you could. Next time, you’ll do better.

    I forgave myself for the times I hadn’t revealed the full truth in sticky situations—I’d held details back in fear that their exposure would lead to my own abandonment. You did the best you could. Next time, you’ll do better.

    And perhaps the biggest one: I forgave myself for once staying in a relationship my soul knew was not meant to last. I’d gone so far with a man in the ‘wrong’ direction—all the while knowing I was heading in the wrong direction, but still needing to make the journey. And once I’d finally arrived in a life that wasn’t mine—after investing so much time, love, and energy—my soul begged me to leave but I stayed longer, still, because my tender heart wasn’t ready to go.

    I forgave myself for that epic journey and released the guilt I felt for leaving the man who’d been by my side all that time. He had felt at home in that direction, and I left him behind, to follow a path that was truly mine. You did the best you could. Next time, you’ll do better.

    —

    “You had difficult decisions to make,” I’d told my sweet, crying friend. “You did the best you could. You don’t need to wipe the events from your memory, but give yourself permission to let go of the guilt you feel. Once you forgive yourself, you’ll be lighter and more capable of movement and transformation.”

    “Lightness of being,” my sweet friend said. “I’d like to achieve that.”

    And she did. And we do. Every time we forgive—each other and ourselves.

  • Why I’ve Upgraded to a Drama-Free Relationship

    Why I’ve Upgraded to a Drama-Free Relationship

    “Love is not what you say. Love is what you do.” ~Unknown

    I used to think that true love should be passionate and intense. When someone broke up with me or treated me poorly, I’d imagine that he really didn’t mean it. Surely he was really a good person and truly loved me, but was just “going through something” or “needed space.” Eventually he’d be back with tears, apologies, and flowers.

    I’d like to say I outgrew this tendency by the age of, well, maybe forty, but the fact is I didn’t.

    Instead, I carried a torch for a recently divorced man, who couldn’t stick around for more than eight weeks at a time, for more than a year. Each time he returned, he’d tell me how much he missed me and how much I meant to him, and I loved to hear it.

    Before him, I took well over a year off from dating anyone seriously because my ex-boyfriend might decide he wanted me back, and he called every month or so to check in. When he did this, I’d get thrown straight back into the drama of it all and second-guess my decision to end our relationship. After all, he said he loved me.

    And the man before that, well, you get the idea.

    This was all very exciting compared to my life at the office. It was very distracting as well. I’d spend hours googling self-help blogs and texting my girlfriends with the latest updates on “the guy” instead of doing my work.

    Let’s face it, relationship drama can pull you right in. It demands your attention immediately. It’s so intense to get a text in the middle of the night or to navigate the ups and downs of a stormy relationship. On again, off again, always waiting for a call or text. Will he or won’t he? Will you or won’t you?

    We modern humans no longer live in caves or have life and death struggles on a regular basis. Most of us live fairly routine lives in comfortable homes and have our physical needs met. Sometimes, you can get addicted to drama because it gives you a buzz of excitement that a regular old nine-to-five lifestyle just can’t.

    A shot of adrenaline can help us wake up to life and get motivated. Things like climbing a mountain, signing up for a triathlon, or a tight deadline help us get fired up.

    Taking on a new challenge from time to time can help us feel like we’re going somewhere in life. If we don’t do this, regular doses of relationship drama can provide a distraction. An unstable relationship may be exciting at first, but it can eventually become draining.

    A turbulent relationship can sap your energy and your confidence. You never quite know where you stand with this person, and it wears down your sense of stability and security. It can bleed into the rest of your life and damage your other relationships, your career, or even your health.

    If you’re involved in a troubled relationship, it can be all-encompassing. It’s also very tempting to adopt the role of the savior because you get to be the “together” person, the responsible one.

    If you’ve been living on a steady diet of relationship drama, it’s time for a reality check. Ask yourself how this situation is serving you. Blaming the other person and hoping that they will change isn’t helpful, because you’re the one who’s tolerating these circumstances in your life.

    Being willing to accept responsibility for the situation you’re in is the first step to a more fulfilling love life.

    Ask yourself what kind of relationship you want to have. Take some time and journal about it. How do you want to feel? What is your day-to-day experience like? Is that kind of relationship possible with the person you’re with (or considering) now? Not when or if they finally change. Now.

    When I asked myself these questions, I saw that I wanted to be loved and to feel safe. I wanted to know that my significant other was “all in” with me, not halfway out the door. I came to recognize that I wasn’t choosing men who were willing to have this kind of relationship with me.

    I also realized that once I discovered that this was the case with a particular person, I was very reluctant to let him go. Instead, I’d hang on for far too long in the hopes that things would get better, which they never did.

    Once you’ve considered these questions for yourself, consider what changes you’ll need to make in order to have the kind of relationship you want.

    I came to understand that I’d have to give up the idea that drama was an indicator of true love. The kinds of relationships that I previously would have considered “boring” were, in fact, desirable. I found more healthy ways of adding excitement to my life.

    The man I married is dependable and reliable. I can always count on him to keep his promises and I know he adores me. I couldn’t be happier.

    From our very first conversation on, I never had any doubts or had to wait for him to change or “come around”. He made his feelings for me very clear from the get-go and I always knew where I stood with him.

    I always feel safe with him and we go hiking and mountain climbing instead of breaking up every few weeks.

    If you really want to have a fulfilling relationship, then it’s time to make choices that are consistent with your desire. This can be difficult, because people often consider drama an indicator of love or passion, but it doesn’t have to be that way.

    You can choose to see drama for what it is, an indicator of an unstable relationship. Once you do this, commit to dating people who are capable of having a healthy relationship.

    Doing these things will drastically increase your chances of having a fulfilling relationship.

  • Radical Acceptance with Tara Brach: If You’re Hard on Yourself, Read On

    Radical Acceptance with Tara Brach: If You’re Hard on Yourself, Read On

    Have you ever thought, “Something’s wrong with me”? I suspect we all have at one time or another.

    We’ve thought we’re too quiet, too loud, too eager, too lazy, too sensitive, too dramatic, or generally not good enough.

    And social media doesn’t help much. Every time we log on to Facebook or Instagram we’re bombarded with everyone else’s accomplishments, adventures, and best angles, which can easily lead us to conclude our life is somehow lacking—that we are somehow lacking.

    From there, it’s just a quick leap to self-flagellation.

    We can all be our own harshest critics. We can beat ourselves up for our mistakes, flaws, and failures, as if we’re supposed to be perfect. As if we’re supposed to have everything together and should never have bad days, negative thoughts, or painful emotions.

    But this is all part of being human. These aren’t shameful defects to hide or change. They’re realities to accept.

    If you’ve found it difficult to accept your humanity and treat yourself with kindness and compassion, you may benefit from Tara Brach’s eCourse Radical Acceptance.

    A world-renowned psychologist, author, and meditation teacher, Tara Brach has a talent for helping people embrace the present moment and overcome the blocks that prevent them from giving and receiving love.

    Her books and courses have helped millions of people heal and find peace and presence, and this particular course has received close to 600 glowing reviews.

    I’m happy to share that Udemy has offered a discount for Tiny Buddha readers, bringing the cost down to just $9.99 from now until February 19th.

    The eCourse includes four and a half hours of on-demand videos, broken down into bite-sized pieces, that you can access any time, anywhere. It’s powerful, easily digestible, and chock-full of life-changing wisdom.

    You can get instant access to Radical Acceptance by joining here, and browse through Udemy’s many other course offerings here.

    I hope the course is helpful to you!

    **Though Udemy is a Tiny Buddha sponsor, you can trust that I only recommend products and courses that speak to me personally. If you have any trouble getting the course for the discounted rate, you can contact Udemy’s customer support here.

  • 4 Things a Wise Man Taught Me About Making the Most of This Short Life

    4 Things a Wise Man Taught Me About Making the Most of This Short Life

    “The goal is to die with memories, not dreams.” ~Unknown

    As we stood holding hands under that great oak tree, I had never felt more surrounded by love. It was simultaneously the most wonderful and haziest moment of my whole life as we said, “I do.”

    It had really happened. I had married my best friend.

    We made the decision to bring our wedding forward a year after my husband’s dad, Ian, had been diagnosed with cancer. In nine months we had planned and executed our perfect wedding day. And he was there.

    We drank and sang and danced the night away. And three days later my now father-in-law dropped us at the airport to leave for our honeymoon. We were so looking forward to a week away to reflect on the wedding and come down from the madness of the past nine months.

    But after just twenty-four hours we were on a plane heading back to England. Ian had passed away suddenly.

    After a restless week of tears, hugs, and family time it hadn’t even begun to sink in. We’re now months down the line and it still hasn’t really begun to sink in.

    I had lived with my mother and father-in-law for a few years prior to this. This was a man who quite literally made me laugh every day. But perhaps most importantly, this was a man who always told us to follow our dreams, travel the world, and do what makes us happy. It’s hard to accept he’s gone.

    I had always admired his outlook on life. And though he is no longer here in person, he has left us with some rules to live by that I will carry with me forever.

    1. Always make time for people.

    Life can be busy. Sometimes a little too busy. But one thing that Ian always did so naturally was make time for other people. Whether he knew them well or not, he always had time for a chat. He got to know people; he shared stories with them. But more than that, he listened to their stories and he loved to hear about people from all walks of life.

    Everywhere he went people were happy to see him. Even if it was just a week’s holiday to Spain you knew he’d be leaving with a bunch of hilarious stories from the locals and people he met. He had an aura about him that just seemed to attract people and make them want to stop and talk to him.

    So what have I learnt from this? Okay, so life is busy. But it will pass you by if you let it. Sometimes it’s worth taking that extra five minutes to stop and talk to someone. Take time to get to know them. Making time for other people is such a satisfying feeling.

    You never know whom you’re going to meet. You never know how people are going to affect or influence your life. But not only that, you have no idea how you could influence or change someone else’s life, even with just one conversation.

    One thing that gets me down, and something I try not to do too much these days, is reading the news. Reading about how people treat one another, especially given everything that’s going on at the moment. Just making time for people you don’t usually speak to, or getting to know someone new can do wonders for restoring your faith in humanity. There are some incredible people out there!

    My husband, like his dad, is very good at getting to know people. As we drunkenly made conversation with a taxi driver one night, we discovered he was a Buddhist and he was from India. That’s not the remarkable part.

    As he pulled up outside the house we were taking to him about traveling and how we’d love to visit India one day. He took his wallet in his hand and he said, “What is this? Money? It’s a bit of paper. Life it too short to always be chasing money. You need to see the world and make the most of it.”

    The conversation we had with this taxi driver was short, but it stuck with me for days. It made us so happy. We even took his card so we could call on him next time we needed a lift—and maybe a motivational chat about life!

    We’ve always known we we’re going to travel again one day, and while we understood his point about money just being a bit of paper, you do need some to get you started, even if it’s just booking a one-way ticket!

    But this conversation had got us excited and we started dreaming of ways we could travel on a budget. Turns out, if you think outside the box travel can be much cheaper than you think.

    2. Travel soothes the soul.

    Ian loved to travel. He visited some incredible places in his lifetime, and was always on the lookout for his next adventure. Like I said, he loved getting to know new people and experiencing different ways of life. He was always the first to put him and his wife forward for an adventure, and they have some truly incredible stories as a result.

    He always encouraged us to travel, and we can’t wait for the day we pack our bags and head off on our biggest adventure yet. And wherever we go, a piece of him will always be with us.

    If there is one thing I’ve learned, it’s that you should travel whenever and wherever you can—and you don’t need to be rich to do it! You could consider volunteering overseas, housesitting, or just plain saving up by cutting back on non-essentials in your daily life.

    Whatever it is you choose to do, always grab the opportunity to experience new cultures and let them shape who you are. When I am grey and old, I want to look back and know that I have some truly great memories and experiences to share.

    3. Always be yourself.

    This was something Ian was very good at. No matter what, he was always unapologetically Ian. He didn’t waste time worrying about keeping up appearances or doing the conventional thing. He was the life and soul of many parties, and this was in no small part because he was just happy being himself.

    This is something that really resonates with me. I know I worry too much. Sometimes I worry too much about what people think of me. Not always. But I know I let other people’s opinions affect my actions and mood from time to time.

    Most of us need to work at being ourselves more often. There are many people out there, just like me, who know that they can sometimes be held back by the opinion of others. But we are all one of a kind, and I truly believe that people love you more for just being you. And okay, you’re never going to get on with everyone, but you’ll make more genuine connections (and you’ll definitely have more fun) by being your authentic self.

    4. Life really is too short not to make the most of it—so seize the moment.

    And despite everything he did with his time on earth, he left too soon. He was fifty-three and still had an incredible love for life. On our wedding day, despite being ill, Ian was one of the last men standing on the dance floor, shirt off, swinging it around his head. Had you not known he was ill, you would never have thought it.

    Perhaps this is an overused phrase, but it is something I now believe to be totally true: You really should live every day as if it were your last. Because these past two years have taught me that you never know when it’s going to be your time to go.

    As someone who suffers from anxiety, I can often find myself becoming frustrated or worried about things I shouldn’t be. I am trying to teach myself to let go. And if there is one thing I wish you to take from this, it’s that life is way too short to worry about what other people think of you.

    Always be thankful for the small things, because one day they may be the big things. Enjoy every moment with your loved ones, and don’t hold grudges, because what’s the point? Cherish every hug, accept every compliment, and seize every opportunity you can to make someone else smile.

  • When a Wrong Can’t Be Righted: How to Deal With Regret

    When a Wrong Can’t Be Righted: How to Deal With Regret

    “Regret can be your worst enemy or your best friend. You get to decide which.” ~Martha Beck

    I was lucky enough to grow up with a pretty great mom.

    She put herself through nursing school as a single parent, still made it to every field trip and dance recital, and somehow always made my brother and me feel like the best thing since sliced bread (even when we were acting like moldy and ungrateful fruitcakes).

    She knew our deepest secrets, our friends, and who we were capable of being—even when we didn’t know ourselves. As I grew older my mom and I had a journal that we would pass back and forth. In it we shared our thoughts and feelings, stories, and fears, as if we didn’t live in the same house and across the hall from each other.

    She was my best friend and my “person,” my closest confidante and biggest supporter—but there was, of course, an inevitable down side.

    Like anyone who doesn’t know what they have, I often took her for granted.

    With age came independence, “worldliness,” and too-cool-for-school-ness. My relationship with my mother took a back seat to friends, romance, and my early-twenties aspirations of moving to LA and becoming rich and famous. (In reality I became an assistant to someone rich and famous, which was exactly close enough to send my self-esteem into a tailspin.)

    On trips home I was mostly concerned with seeing friends and popping into old hangouts; she’d be there when I got home, I figured, and she understood… right?

    I was young and gregarious, and had more important things to do than spend quality time with my mother. Even after moving back to town I didn’t see her much; the years had seen her fall into a deep depression, and it was one that vividly echoed a growing disappointment in my own life—her pain seemed to only compound mine.

    As I began to work on getting my own life back on track, I relegated time with my mother to every other Sunday and holidays, holding her (and our relationship) at arm’s length. What seemed at the time to be self-care and boundaries was also a mixture of avoidance and burden—but I didn’t truly know this until a Tuesday afternoon one day in November.

    She’d called me the night before and I’d ignored it; she was lonely and called me a lot, and I’d decided that I couldn’t always stop what I was doing to answer. But the next day I got a call at work from my brother, telling me to come home at once. When I got there I found that she’d died in her sleep the night before.

    I checked the voicemail that she’d left me. In it she’d asked me to come over and see a movie with her.

    The guilt caved me in.

    The following weeks and months were a blur. I was beside myself with grief, regret, and the illogical thinking that can come with loss: Maybe if I’d come over that night she wouldn’t have died. Maybe if I’d been around more, called more, or been a better daughter, maybe that would have changed things.

    I recounted my failings and knew there had been many—there usually are, once death takes away the possible tomorrows that you thought you had. Losing her was one thing, but the cloud of regret that hung over my head was entirely different and all encompassing.

    It lasted for quite a while.

    I didn’t wake up one day and realize that I wasn’t to blame for her death, although I knew how illogical that thought was to others. I also never woke up and felt that the way I acted toward her was entirely right; though fallible and human, I’d consciously been an absentee daughter for quite a while.

    But, what did this guilt mean for the rest of my life? Did it mean making myself sick with the never ending replay of all I’d done wrong, or constantly reliving all of the choices I wish I hadn’t made?

    As time went on it became apparent that I could literally spend the rest of my life punishing myself. It felt almost fair to carry the weight of regret everywhere that I went. After some time, however, I began to wonder who I was carrying it for.

    Was the regret for her, homage to my mother that I could never really repay? Was it for myself, a masochistic comfort that I felt in never truly forgiving my past?

    As I contemplated these ideas in the periphery of my mind, I began to take notice of how others repair the damage stemming from guilt and regret.

    In recovery communities, when you wrong someone (and realize it) you seek to make it right. You revisit the ill behavior of your past, and (unless it’s going to harm another) you approach the person and ask how to repair things. It may be that financial amends are necessary, it might be taking a restorative action, or it may be that you’re asked to simply leave those you’ve hurt alone—but an effort is made to right the wrong.

    And if a wrong can’t possibly be righted (because of death, for example) you make something that’s called a “living amends.”

    Another way to look at this is “paying it forward.” Maybe the person that you harmed is gone, but if they were still here, what would you do to make it right? Is there something that you can do for someone else, or another cause, or in memoriam of the person toward whom you committed the harm? Are there things about the way you live that you can change—things you would have implemented with said person, if you’d had the chance?

    The idea of a “living amends” intrigued me. Although I knew it couldn’t actually change my past actions, it could definitely change the way that I felt about the future. And anything was better than sitting under a lead blanket of guilt every time I stopped moving long enough to think.

    I realized that a huge regret I felt with my mom was the complete disregard I’d had for her time. I came to visit when I felt like it, left when it was good for me, and flaked if I couldn’t “handle” her that day.

    I knew that something I could do moving forward would be to show up more consistently in other relationships: make commitments and keep them, respect the time of loved ones, and show with my actions how I felt in my heart.

    I also realized that I don’t want to be the kind of person who avoids another’s pain just because it’s difficult for me to bear. Depression is a heavy load to carry, and sitting with a loved one while they’re hurting can be uncomfortable—but sometimes it’s in simply witnessing another’s pain that you can help lighten it.

    Boundaries are important, and some of those I drew were necessary, but some were just convenient. I now try to show up even if that’s all I can do, because I know how it feels when another does that for me.

    I began to honor her in small ways financially when I could: donating to animal welfare causes that she’d loved, reaching out to my estranged brother, and becoming politically active in ways that I’d never really considered before—all things that would have made her proud.

    The tears still came and the past remained unchanged, but as I lived my way to the person she knew I could be, I felt the clouds begin to part and the edges of my grief soften.

    As I forged this path of “living amends” I found that it applied to other aspects of my past as well—unchangeable missteps that had kept me wrapped in a blanket of regret began to unfurl into opportunities.

    Rather than filling journals with the saga of self-flagellation (which is as ugly as it sounds) I began to ask, “Where can I make this right?” If a wrong (or a relationship) couldn’t be tangibly “righted” there were always other ways that I could live my way toward an amends.

    I now look at it as actively applying the lessons that mistakes have taught me—searching for how to make my future actions match the hard-won realizations about who I want to be.

    Now, don’t get me wrong: I’m not Mother Teresa, and I don’t wake up each day guided by a strictly altruistic force that leads to a perfect and pious life. (Although that would be nice, I’m still pretty human and a work in progress.)

    What I have found, however, is a path of self-forgiveness: ideas, actions, and direction for the moments when I feel myself living in the cave of “if only” and regret.

    Although that cave is a familiar place to be, there’s far too much life to be lived in the world outside of it.

  • He Left, But I Will Not Give Up On Myself

    He Left, But I Will Not Give Up On Myself

    “I now see how owning our story and loving ourselves through that process is the bravest thing that we will ever do. “ ~Brené Brown

    He just left our home.

    After eighteen years together, fifteen of them being married, he left as we had planned, as we had gently and lovingly discussed.

    We are on a break, a trial separation. What you hear about separation and divorce is all so achingly true. It feels like a death, a chasm where all the worst feelings imaginable pile in on you, where you can’t quite breathe right.

    The pain is visceral—like someone sliced right through your core, the heartache deep enough to make the bones ache, the weariness that makes your head feel heavy and weighted, the primal twists in your gut that cannot be fully appreciated until they are forced upon you unexpectedly.

    My eyes are completely dried out and sore, begging for a reprieve from the ocean of tears.

    I did not see this coming. I wasn’t blindsided completely, as there have been whispers and ghosts of unpleasant truths that had been squashed down for years: all those inner, intimate workings of a marriage that didn’t always flow smoothly, undetectable to the outside world. The ebbs and flows, the dark thoughts that sprout up on a sleepless night, a human experience in all its shared, bumpy glory.

    Through all that, there was purity and goodness, what makes a marriage so rewarding and rich: a deeply rooted friendship, strong as anything I have ever felt with someone in my life. I was connected, heard, understood.

    I had a witness to my life’s journey in all its madness, monotony, and triumph. My person. My love. The person who got it without having to say a word. That steady presence even when we were physically apart. I felt secure and safe, and my feet were firmly planted on the ground.

    So much time, so much history, so much togetherness feels like it has been wiped out in the span of a few months. It disappeared up in smoke with only the ashes to remain. I am untethered, rudderless, a sail desperately trying to right itself in the tempest.

    There is no faultfinding, no hatred, just a crushing sadness with a generous dose of regret. Regret for all the times we didn’t tune into each other or communicate when things urgently needed to be said and handled with proper care. Care that would heal wounds instead of allowing them to fester.

    Regret for retreating into our respective corners and hiding, survival skills carried over from tumultuous childhoods. We landed in the gray area of life where feelings subtly shift over time and don’t course correct in healthy ways.

    That dreaded place where human emotions get murky, cloudy, and raw, allowing vulnerability and disconnect to cause you to do things you never thought you would. In turn, you make futile efforts for control when there is none. You don’t want to let go but you must. Your hands are too raw and bloody from the struggle to hang on for dear life. I know what it means to surrender now.

    It is gone. I am unsure it will ever be back. If it comes back, I hope it is stronger and more lovingly powerful than before, impenetrable from any slings and arrows that may try to dent and poison it. We will nourish and nurture it to make it right, whole, solid—not let it wither away so easily on the vine.

    I won’t mind the battle scars, as they will serve to remind me of what we can endure, how we cope, how we survive, and what loss really feels like in your soul. It will remind me to cherish the feeling of home, the safe haven of togetherness. We will mourn the death of our old marriage and pave a path for a new one that is healing, bright, and hopeful, permanently altered for the better.

    Right now, I am alone, terrified, vulnerable, standing on the edge of an abyss. All I have is myself, and I have to believe that I am enough. My mantra is “I will get through this,” and I repeat it often. It comforts me sometimes.

    I know there are things I didn’t want to acknowledge about myself: I became complacent, didn’t take full advantage of my days of freedom, chose the easy way out on many occasions, ignored my creative leanings, and became more dependent than I would ever care to admit.

    I numbed myself with monotony, allowing seemingly benign things from the past to insidiously take root and work their way to the surface, infecting everything in its path.

    Now it is all there, right in front of me, not so much taunting me but in my face, reminding me I have some work to do. Life lessons that need to be understood and imbibed to my core so I don’t keep repeating them. Not to put myself in such a place of insecurity ever again. I must own all of this, my part. Digest it painfully and slowly but knowing it will fortify me in the future.

    Where will I be in six months, a year? How will this unfold? Will I make hugely gratifying changes that smooth everything over? Will he? Will I take this time to get back to myself? Will I be all too human and fail miserably? Will I numb myself yet again to all of this? Maybe. Maybe not. It is unknowable right now.

    I know what I will be doing every day until the answers come. And they will come whether I like them or not. I will get up each morning. I will take care of my body and mind. I will shower, wash my hair, put on makeup, and get dressed.

    I will face the days, whether they feel short and uneventful or impossibly long, full of loneliness, despair, and isolation. I will cry until I feel depleted and then cry again. I will not sleep well. My stomach will feel like someone is gripping it tightly in their fist.

    But I will take long walks, and inhale clean, fresh air. I will try to eat well, be kind to myself, stay open, soft, and not wear bitterness like a mask or feel my chest constrict with impotent rage. I will remember that it is okay to be afraid. I will reach out to people when I need to and be alone when I need to.

    I will try to laugh every day and remember all the good things I have. I will drink red wine and dance spontaneously to remind myself I am alive in this body. I will not give up on myself, though I will want to. I will not break even though I am fragile as fine china. I will throw many balls in the air and see if one lands on a treasured feeling of possibility.

    I will let this exquisite pain be my greatest teacher. I will give it time—that magical elixir that taunts and teases on its own schedule. I will become the woman I know I am deep inside, even though she got lost along the way—the woman of my dreams, who is capable and strong. It has been eighteen years of building one life, and now I will begin building a new one.

    The most important thing I have learned through this period of profound change is that you need to show up for yourself—always. To be your own champion and best friend. To know with absolute certainty that you are the only person you can count on in order to move forward and build the life of your dreams, with or without someone else. And knowing that is worth everything.

  • A Most Difficult Lesson: People Are Just Doing Their Best

    A Most Difficult Lesson: People Are Just Doing Their Best

    “People are doing the best that they can from their own level of consciousness.” ~Deepak Chopra

    My father passed away suddenly and not so suddenly several weeks back.

    He had been sick for a long time, but it was a gradually progressing illness and not what ultimately caused his passing. So, it did come as a shock, and the last few weeks have been filled with all the random things you need to do when someone dies—change the names on insurance policies and automobile titles, call social security, etc.

    The list seems endless, but now that the tasks are winding down, the silence that is settling in is leaving both my mom and I alone with our feelings.

    I knew this silence would come, and I dreaded it. I was afraid I’d think terrible thoughts about him, and that in turn would make me feel like a terrible person. It’s a long story…

    There’s no sugarcoating it: My dad was not a great father to me. He provided for our family and didn’t do drugs or drink. He bought us nice presents for the holidays. He did teach us a healthy respect for the rules. He also made it very clear he had a favorite child, and it wasn’t me.

    He wasn’t affectionate to me, and he once told me as a child that he wasn’t interested in me as a person because I wasn’t interested in what he liked to do, and he followed through with that by withdrawing from participation in my various childhood pursuits. He occasionally, though not often, beat me with his hands and objects.

    Nothing I did ever seemed to please him. When I got a job in addition to taking a full suite of university courses in high school (I was the only child of four who did that), he said I didn’t make enough money.

    When I got into the university of my choice (an elite one), he said I should have chosen a secular school, and the one and only time he visited (it wasn’t too far from our house), he said it was “full of crosses.” I cannot remember him ever saying he was proud of me.

    He was rarely affectionate with me, and he was loath to comment on my successes while he frequently reminded me of my failures and, above all, the expense I was costing him. The list of the scars I bear from my relationship with him could go on and on and on.

    So, though I have always had a problem with the phenomenon of people being beatified when they pass away, I feared not responding to his passing with compassion and instead being accosted by negative thoughts and feelings about him during the silence that followed.

    Silence of course invites in the ego, that often very negative voice in the head. I feared feeling and acting like an insensitive, ungrateful person and wondered how I would feel if my own family thought such things about me if I died.

    Like so many times when we face a spiritual test, I surprised myself. Once the initial shock and overwhelming grief I felt passed, I found that my disposition toward him was surprisingly kind.

    First and foremost, I just feel sorry for him—he suffered for a long time and died too young. Beyond that, I feel grateful for having him as a father because I know he did his very best, and I recall that as perhaps the most important lesson he taught me years before: people are always just doing the best they can.

    This lesson is a very difficult pill to swallow. Most everyone knows lying and stealing are wrong, and yet so many people do them anyway. Violence and aggression are among society’s universally believed wrong, and yet our world has way too much of them. In the grip of feeling oppressed or victimized, it’s almost impossible to hold this thought in our head—we’re too logical for that.

    But consider for a moment: That lady in the store knew that hurling invective at the cashier who couldn’t figure out the correct coupon code is impatient, unkind, and probably unreasonable. The guy on the road who cuts people off knows he doesn’t like it when people do that to him, and he knows his actions make a road accident more likely. They do it anyway. How can we even think they’re doing their best?

    One way is to think about it very cleanly: What would you say about someone who knows something to be wrong and yet cannot summon the self-control, patience, compassion, or whatever it may be to stop themselves from doing it?

    In that moment, the person is not conscious enough to refrain from the hurtful action. The person is not connected enough to identify with those his or her actions are harming. Something is holding that person back from showing up fully and achieving his or her full human potential for goodness.

    The maddening fact for those of us who skew to the hyper-logical side of the spectrum is that in 99.9% of cases, you’ll never know what that something is. In fact, no matter how well you know someone, the best you can do in terms of understanding his or her motives, subconscious thoughts and emotions driving behavior is an educated guess.

    However, I knew my dad as well as he allowed anyone to, and I was very familiar with his personal history, so I had a pretty good idea what those somethings holding him back were.

    He grew up in an abusive household, and his dad eventually abandoned his mom and him. He was poor. He lived in a tough inner-city neighborhood and was bullied terribly as a child.

    His mom was a cold and distrustful woman with few if any friends and estranged from almost her entire family. She relentlessly hounded him about his every dollar of expense.

    Not surprisingly, he carried the pain of this upbringing with him throughout his whole life, and he had no example of what good parenting looked like.

    Without that example and with all the wrong lessons and accumulated pain he carried, is it any surprise Dad had difficulty expressing affection?

    Given how little positivity and support he had growing up, how would he have known how to or even that he should have expressed those things to his family? With his mom being estranged from so many people, how could we not expect him as a child to have learned this as a normal state of affairs?

    Indeed, he struggled to improve on key parts of what was lacking in his childhood. He was singularly focused on materially providing for all his children—even after he strongly established his financial security—because he knew what it was like to be without material well-being.

    Though he definitely was abusive to me at times, this was something that was not a normal state of affairs in our household the way it was in his. Thus, the ways in which he was traumatized most reflected in his parenting, in some way for the better and in some for the worse. It must have been difficult for him.

    I can’t say that this realization came easily to me. It took time and distance and only came to me after I had left home for years, during which my time personal hurt gradually faded.

    As my life began to fall into place literally on the other side of the world, I saw from afar all the dysfunction unfolding in my family. Not only did I realize that I should be thankful I was removed from it, but I understood it was the best they could do.

    As an outsider in the family, I had observed the various inter-personal dynamics at work, and I could identify with how powerless and ill-equipped Dad must have felt to deal with all of it.

    This understanding gave me such peace and even empathy, and it freed me from my youthful anger and resentment toward them. Nevertheless, it was only years later when I had my own spiritual awakening that I fully understood the implications, universal applicability, and power of this lesson.

    But the truth is that you’ll never know most people that well, and even if you did, you may never even think you understand the ways in which they’ve been damaged. Some of the most unfortunate people are against all circumstances among the most joyful, while many of the wealthiest and most popular celebrities are miserable and lead tumultuous lives.

    The mind and the ego are capable of creating their own narratives, which their hosts typically completely identify with. We can never fully understand, but that’s just it—people themselves are rarely aware of their reasons for doing what they do and feeling what they feel.

    And there it is: People’s level of consciousness—their awareness of their own feelings and mind (i.e. their ego), as well as those of the people around them—determine how well they can see their own actions and behave with grace.

    Dad had a lot of accumulated pain, which had never been given voice, and he didn’t even realize it to be able to strive for better. What he did realize, for example the insecurity of poverty, he tried mightily and indeed succeeded in improving upon.

    Likewise, when I beat myself up for responding to others’ plight with coldness and distance, I need to remind myself that this was the model I had growing up, and unless an outside observer was really familiar with the dynamics of our family, there’s no way he or she would understand that about me.

    When I feel shame at failing to recognize others’ efforts and accomplishments, I need to remember that’s how I was raised. This was the next step I made after my spiritual awakening—I was able to broaden the whole “they’re doing their best” lesson to myself and others.

    And now the next step—the most challenging one—is to try and remember this each and every day.

    When faced with that lady yelling about the coupons or the guy who just cut you and four other people off as he sped down the highway, in the midst of your indignation, can you take a breath and remember that they’re doing their best?

    How do you know if that lady is maxed out on her credit cards or has a sick husband or just lost her job? Perhaps the angry driver is rushing home to see his sick son or has an anxiety disorder. Whatever the circumstances—and in these cases you’ll never know what those are—that is quite simply the best they can do in that very moment.

    When your coworker takes credit for your work and tries to hide it from you, can you accept that she’s operating from a place of pain or fear and that you will likely never understand what exactly that looks like?

    Knowing that the coworker is still doing his best doesn’t mean you can’t respond appropriately to right the situation, but can you do so from a state of compassion and not anger? If you can summon the empathy to do so, you’ll likely realize how much more effective your response will be.

    So, though it may annoy you to no end, you’ll never know how people process their own past and how that past is expressing itself in the present. In the grip of a terrible situation when you just want to wring someone’s neck, try to remember that. Moreover, when you find yourself remembering, give yourself credit. You may surprise yourself, as I just did with my father’s passing.

    I’m still grieving and will be for some time. The pain and fear my dad felt for so long… it just isn’t fair. He didn’t deserve that, just like I didn’t deserve my lonely childhood.

    None of us deserve what happens to us, right? We’re born innocent, and yet we all suffer through a lot, whether that be physical or emotional—totally in our own heads. Just try to remember that—we’re all in this together.

    Thanks, Dad for teaching me that lesson to live by, and so long.

  • How to Stop Arguing and Start Understanding

    How to Stop Arguing and Start Understanding

    “Raise your words, not your voice. It is rain that grows flowers, not thunder.” ~Rumi

    One of the most common sources of conflict among people is in the way we communicate. Often times, conflicts arise because of the variety of our opinions and beliefs, and also from the way we express our thoughts and communicate disagreement.

    A blaming, sometimes even aggressive tone of voice can seep into our language, which invites confrontation instead of collaboration, and conveys a closed “my way or no way” kind of approach.

    Looking back on my past, I can recall myself during my childhood years, when anything felt possible. In my world, full of playfulness, creativity, and fun, things were straightforward and clear. Whenever I was hungry, I made sure my mother knew about that. When I was afraid, sad, or upset, I said so. Whenever I wanted anything, I asked for it.

    In this open communication space, there was no room for mind reading or making assumptions. I didn’t claim to know what other people felt or thought. If anything was unclear, I asked. I didn’t let my mind play with me and create scenarios about what other people had in their minds or hearts, because I knew I wasn’t them. Life was quite simple, and the older I got, the stronger my need to complicate it became.

    Taking an honest look at my life as a grown-up woman, I came to realize I was often aggressive with people, without even being aware of it. I never screamed and yelled at people, but I expressed my thoughts and emotions aggressively, especially when I was trying to convey opinions I strongly believed in and get my voice heard.

    That is an area I am still working on. However, I have spent a while reading about the field of non-violent communication, learning how to communicate with clarity and confidence in any situation and, by that, avoid unnecessary drama or confrontation.

    A few years ago, I started to apply this learning in my everyday life. Surprisingly, I could see how small adjustments in my communication helped me to improve my relationships with people in my personal life and career.

    Here are four useful suggestions that helped me refine my communication skills and build bridges of mutual understanding with others.

    1. Be curious about others’ intentions.

    Conflict often arises because we tend to evaluate our actions based on our intentions, yet judge others based on their actions.

    For instance, when I fear I might have offended someone with my words, my immediate reaction would be to explain myself and make it clear my real intention was not to hurt anyone: ”I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to sound like that. My point is that…”

    However, when I didn’t like what I heard in a sensitive conversation, I would jump immediately into a defensive or even aggressive posture, without even trying to understand more about what others wanted to tell me.

    As a solution, I learned how to ask questions with the genuine curiosity of a child, as if I knew nothing. I want to know more about the story behind the words: the circumstances, the impact on the people involved, their intentions, and so on.

    Here are some of my favorite questions that help me do that:

    • How did this happen?
    • Can you tell me more about it?
    • What can we do to sort this out?

    The way we formulate our questions is also essential, so stop asking “why?”

    Let me ask you one the same question, in two different ways. Say I’m disturbed by your words. I could choose to either reply with, “Why are you saying that?” or I could ask, ”What makes you say that?”

    Can you feel the difference between the two questions? Don’t you feel like the “why” question sounds more accusatory than the other?

    When asked “why,” people tend to feel blamed. As a consequence, they either shut up entirely or go into a defensive mode, trying to justify themselves. Meanwhile, the “what” questions invite an open discussion and transparent communication. They help bring more balance, harmony, and peace during sensitive conversations.

    In reality, we only judge what we don’t understand, so I make sure I stay away from confusion. People can only be responsible for what they say, not for what I understand. And no one is a mind reader.

    “Don’t make assumptions. Find the courage to ask questions and to express what you really want. Communicate with others as clearly as you can to avoid misunderstandings, sadness, and drama.” ~Don Miguel Ruiz

    2. Practice the art of listening.

    I will be brutally honest with this one: In the past, I used to be very self-absorbed and eager to take space in conversations. I used to listen in order to know what to say next instead of being fully present for others with mind, body, and soul, so that I could understand their perspectives and points of view. I tended to interrupt others in the attempt of explaining or defending myself. In other words, conversations were generally a lot about me, not so much about others.

    Sometimes, the only thing we have to do in a situation that might look like a conflict or disagreement is to hear what other people have to say with genuine care, curiosity, compassion, and attention.

    In my case, I had to learn how to listen actively. During conversations, I imagined myself having a zipper on my mouth, closing that zipper while people were talking, and allowing myself open the zipper only once they finished. This simple exercise helped me to get present and focused on the other person, both in my personal life and career.

    In a world where most people love to talk about themselves, being able to listen to another person is a form of love.

    “Most people don’t listen with the intent to understand; they listen with the intent to reply.” ~Steven R.Covey

    3. Express your wants and needs assertively.

    One of the most transformational days of my life was the day I found out I was underpaid. I turned into a volcano of anger and blame and ended up in a severe conflict with my manager at the time.

    The moment I stopped acting like a victim (How could they do this to me? How could this ever happen?) and took charge of the painful situation I was in, everything shifted. I realized that during fourteen years spent in the corporate world, I had never negotiated a salary or asked for a raise. I used to be a perfectionist and an overachiever, often working overtime and weekends and expecting my managers to finally compensate me for my hard work and efforts.

    I never dared to express my wants regarding pay assertively, as if that was some kind of taboo or embarrassing topic one couldn’t talk about. The truth is that sometimes in life, we don’t get what we want just because we don’t dare asking for it.

    So what is assertive communication?

    Assertiveness is an attitude of confidence and respect, expressed through a combination of words (I think, I believe, I want), voice (steady and clear), and body language (upright stance). Assertive people are more able to deal with conflicts and to get to a “win-win solution,” they are better problem solvers and are less likely to get stressed.

    Passive communication comes with putting others needs ahead of our own. Allowing people to make fun of us, putting ourselves down or making ourselves small so others can feel good about themselves, could be one example.

    Aggressive communication would impose our thoughts or wishes on others (you should, you must, you better do that, how can you think like this).

    Assertiveness is an open and direct expression of our thoughts and feelings while respecting the right of others to express themselves. It is a form of being kind to ourselves as well as to the other person.

    4. Be open to different points of view.

    I once had an interesting conversation with a friend about one of my favorite topics: life. At the time, I was convinced there was a predefined path for us humans, a destiny one could never change. Meanwhile, my friend had a very different view on her life: “I can create my future every single day,” she said. “If there’s some kind of destiny I dislike, I can surely change it.”

    I found that unacceptable. Who did she think she was? I didn’t speak to her for weeks.

    I acted in the same way years later, during the presidential elections in my home country, Romania, when a close friend decided to vote for the candidate I disliked. I can recall how angry I was. I thought she was smart, so how could she?

    This aggressive way to relate to people was a toxic behavior I’m not proud of. However, I don’t get into the trap of the guilt, shame, and self-blame any longer. Today, I know that was the best I knew and the best I could, with the instruments of awareness I had at the time.

    And here’s what I know to be true today:

    When we come to this world, we know nothing. We are all products of the societies and cultures that raised us (family, school, religious, or political systems). Since societies and cultures are different, it is expected to encounter a variety of individual values or systems of belief.

    As described by Descartes, humans are “social animals,” and we all have a basic need to belong to a community. We tend to feel more at ease when surrounded by like-minded people. Whenever I am having a conversation with someone whose opinions differ from mine, I try not to take things personally. Today I know I can always agree to disagree.

    People also have the right to change their mind. As we grow and evolve, mindsets and perspectives on life can change, as well. Take my example: years ago, the Old Me was blaming that dear friend for saying she could create her own path in life. The New Me thinks the same: I believe everything in life is a matter of personal choice, and we are the sum of our decisions. Interesting how a belief that once disturbed me a lot can feel so resonant today.

    I refuse to think we live in the world where fear, hate, anger, and separation are part of a new, modern Era. I think Mother Earth needs more of our loving energy to heal: more heart, understanding, less judging and more compassion, less taking and more giving, less competition and more collaboration and care.

    Diversity is necessary for thought exchange and ultimate growth. Respecting our differences is a sign of self-care, and a way to make the world a much better place. Souls don’t hold a passport. Those have been assigned to us at birth. Hurting you is hurting myself. Loving you is loving myself. In spirit, we are all one.

    “If you judge people, you have no time to love them.” ~Mother Teresa

    And now, I would like to hear from you. How do you handle difficult conversations, stay away from confrontation, and create harmonious relationships with people?

  • Twisted Love: What I Learned from Being in an Abusive Relationship

    Twisted Love: What I Learned from Being in an Abusive Relationship

    “Never wish them pain. That’s not who you are. If they caused you pain, they must have pain inside. Wish them healing. That’s what they need.” ~Najwa Zebian

    Most of us don’t grow up and say we’re going to be killers.

    Most of us don’t grow up and say we’re going to hurt people.

    We don’t grow up thinking and planning to hurt ourselves.

    But there are moments in our lives in which we’ve stepped outside of ourselves and made decisions that impair our lives. Decisions that remain with us for a lifetime.

    Then we have difficulty forgiving ourselves because what we did went against everything we’ve ever believed. We wonder if this is who we’ve always been. We wonder if we’re able to change.

    Pivotal Moments in Time Teaches Us Everything We Need to Know

    I remember when I slapped my ex-girlfriend.

    We were arguing for hours. She made a horrific comment about my son, and I snapped. I slapped her. I felt ashamed.

    For the first six months of our relationship, things were great. Then I started to pull back. I realized I was too invested in her and not in my home life. I was not only caring for my son but also my teenage sister.

    Things changed.

    I went from being with her regularly to telling her I couldn’t stay. Because she felt abandoned by me, she became verbally abusive. When we argued I would walk away because I knew what was coming next.

    She knew my vulnerabilities and every last dark secret of my soul. And she used them as if they were ammo in an Ak-47 to eviscerate me. This led to her becoming physical. It went on for months. We were held hostage by pain, fear, and a twisted love.

    I found myself holding on to someone who bullied me but loved me, who wanted to love me despite my pain but hated me because of my pain. Most of the time I felt suspended in the twilight zone.

    However, the relationship became more and more emotionally and physically abusive. It never seemed like it was abusive. It was common for lesbians to “have drama.” It was common to be pushed once, maybe twice.

    But, I knew something was wrong when I started to hit back. I’ve never been in a fight in my entire life, and here I was brawling with the love of my life.

    Relationships Do Have An Expiration Date

    But it makes sense. I grew up in an abusive household with a dominating aunt. There were several years of not fighting back, several years of taking the abuse, several years of not raising my voice.

    I grew up feeling undeserving of love. I grew up in a household of shame, of never feeling good enough. It makes perfect sense I would repeat this cycle as an adult with my most important teacher.

    When someone calls you a pansy, a doormat, or says you’re too sensitive, it reaffirms that you have no self-worth.

    I found myself finally fighting back.

    I resisted for so long, and I took the beatings, the name-callings the same way I did as a child. But at that moment, I didn’t know who I was. I smashed objects to the ground, I kicked, I choked, and the both of us became other people.

    We became little girls who have been frightened our entire lives, little girls whose families promised to love them but didn’t. Little girls who were both abandoned. One withdrew from the world, and the other fought the world with intense rage. Little girls who feared the other would leave.

    During our last fight, I told her to leave. I couldn’t say any more sorries, nor could I hear them from her. I didn’t like who I was with her.

    Often we stay in relationships way past the expiration date. It curdles and creates a sickness in our bodies. I checked out of the relationship because our relationship ended years ago but we both couldn’t bear to let the other go. Afraid of the solitude that laid ahead of us. Comfort erodes joy.

    When you find yourself in a relationship and you don’t know who you are, that’s when you leave. When you see yourself doing things that seem like an out of body experience, that’s when you leave. When you find yourself hating coming home knowing that person will be there, that’s when you leave.

    I feared to leave her behind because I understood her pain. I understood why she was angry. We were opposites. I calmed her because I knew how to. I felt guilty wanting to leave. But hurt people, hurt people.

    Tie Up Loose Ends Before They Crush You

    If you have unaddressed pain and begin relationships with people who also have unresolved issues, these issues will surface in the ugliest and most unexpected ways.

    We don’t train our thoughts and we don’t heal our hurts because most of us aren’t living from the inside out. We don’t know how to. Then we try to love each other, and it just doesn’t work.

    You wouldn’t race in a Kentucky Derby without training. We enter relationships without making the necessary connections and insights from our childhood that made us who we are today.

    We don’t learn to understand the person that looks back at us in the mirror. We haven’t developed ways to begin authentic introspection. But most of all we haven’t mastered our emotions. We’re emotionally stunted individuals who fight for what we lost in our childhoods just to feel it in our adult lives. We struggle to fill the deep craters in our souls.

    My aunt was abusive out of fear. I learned later she was dealing with a bitter divorce. She emigrated to the States a married woman with three children (and me as a fourth), and within months her husband abandoned them. She didn’t know the language. And at one point was living in a homeless shelter. She was angry.

    We never learned how to love. My ex-girlfriend didn’t learn it in her home, and I didn’t learn it in mine. People can’t give you something they don’t have. We can’t expect them to unless they are aware, willing, and have done or are ready to do the work.

    We don’t know what we don’t know. But once we do know it’s our responsibility to change.

    When We Learn the Lessons They Won’t Be Repeated

    Being in an abusive relationship taught me the following things:

    Focus on self-love.

    The world opens up to us when we begin to love ourselves. It’s going to be impossible to create loving relationships without first looking within and loving ourselves. This goes for both platonic and romantic relationships.

    Two of the best books that started the process for me was The Gifts of Imperfection and The Power of Vulnerability. I soothed the abused child inside of me through compassion, love, and forgiveness. I began practicing the use of gentler and kinder words towards myself. A question I began asking is, how can I love myself more today?

    Let go of control.

    We can’t control other people’s feelings; we can’t control if and how they heal themselves. It isn’t our responsibility to heal people. All we can do is have compassion, empathy, and love for them. What is under our control is our decisions to stay or leave, the way we react, and whether we reach out for support.

    Nothing’s wrong.

    There’s nothing wrong with us. We’ve learned defense mechanisms either in our childhood or young adulthood that protected us. We’re humans having a human experience. But we don’t need those defense mechanisms anymore. What protected and worked for us as children, no longer serves us as adults.

    Be gentle.

    The inner critic will peer its disruptive head around the corner with the attempts to tear us down. It’s at this very moment we have to be gentle with ourselves by using compassionate and loving language. The more we do this, the more we minimize the sounds of the inner critic.

    We’re loveable.

    Despite not feeling loved, I am still loveable. No matter how deep our scars are and no matter how many painful experiences we’ve had, we’re still loveable.

    We’re enough.

    I’m enough. The Universe created us, and if you believe in a spiritual deity, know that they don’t make mistakes. We’re enough, we’re not too much, and we’re not missing anything. We’re enough because the Universe created us perfectly imperfect.

    “Self-respect, self-love, and self-worth, all start with self. Stop looking outside of yourself for your value.” ~Rob Liano

    Life often takes us on an unbearable path for reasons we may never know or understand. And sometimes we aren’t always able to assemble the puzzle pieces. But we aren’t beholden to our circumstances, and despite our situations, we can rise above, heal ourselves, and begin to live the best life possible.

    It begins with a decision. A decision to no longer hurt, a decision birthed from worth, and a decision to forgive.

    Wherever we are in life, it’s never too late.

    It’s never too late to begin loving from within.

  • The Problem with Forgiveness and What I Now Do Instead

    The Problem with Forgiveness and What I Now Do Instead

    “Change is the end result of all true learning.” ~Leo Buscaglia

    I cringe writing this. I have eaten so much humble pie that my pants don’t fit. This was a really hard lesson to learn.

    I had a forgiveness problem.

    When I was a kid, I learned to say sorry when I messed up and forgive other people when they did. With three sisters all two years apart, I got plenty of practice in as a kid (we all did).

    It was a pretty standard routine:

    1. Someone would mess up—say something horrible, lose something, break something, or hit someone.

    2. The other person would get upset or mad and possibly cry.

    3. We’d both take a little bit of time, and one or both of us would admit to doing something bad and apologize.

    4. We’d forgive each other.

    5. We’d get on with it.

    We got pretty good at this routine. Our fights didn’t last very long—maybe a day or two at the most. We didn’t hold grudges, and we weren’t punished for long periods of time.

    My parents made it safe to tell the truth.

    “Are you the one who backed into the garage door?” “Did you break that pot?” “Did you put your sister down the washing chute?”

    These were scary questions sometimes, but not too scary.

    It was safe to be honest. In fact, our parents made it pretty clear that lying was by far the more abhorrent option and always thanked us when we told the truth. There was punishment but also forgiveness and love. When you have the bouncy bag of forgiveness to fall back on, telling the truth is far easier.

    So I kept this with me as I grew up. When people were hurtful or insulting or inconsiderate, I didn’t take it too personally and didn’t hold grudges. I tried to see it from their perspective; I just assumed whatever they did had nothing to do with me or they had things going on in their life. Or I assumed they were trying their best at the time.

    I thought of myself as quite a forgiving person. I may even have been proud of it. It felt like a talent. I thought it made me empathetic and easy to get along with, powerful, and free.

    I bounced fairly easily and got good at saying sorry when I messed up. I also expected other people to be as good as me at forgiveness too—and if they weren’t, I would shake it off as their issue: “That poor person clearly has issues,” I would think. It made me feel bigger than the other person for being able to turn the other cheek. (Why are the alarm bells so clear in hindsight?)

    I was good at forgiving myself too. And I messed up a lot—not only with other people but also for myself. I would tell myself, “It’s okay, let’s try again. You’re doing okay. Everyone messes up.”

    This was particularly useful in not bashing myself up about food. When it came to eating, I often didn’t treat myself with the most respect.

    If you have an eating disorder, often you want to get better… tomorrow. Every time you mess up, you promise yourself (meaning it too) that next time you will do better. But also, it doesn’t matter too much when you don’t do better, because you will try again the next day. Always the next day. Never in the moments that it counted.

    I got good at moving on pretty quickly. Moving on, but not up.

    Self-righteous people are so unattractive. And I crashed and burned. The universe knocked me flat on my ass; it chewed me up and spat me out in itty-bitty pieces.

    I found myself standing in front of a judge in court and acknowledging that I had pinched an ex-boyfriend, who had taken out an apprehended violence order.

    Bad breakups are bad by definition; this one was traumatizing. But beyond that, being in court was a pretty shocking experience. It took a long time and a lot of work to sit with the reality of what was happening; it felt like being in a zombie movie. Or The Truman Show.

    It was incredibly surreal. A pinch and I was in court? I had always thought of myself as a nice, honest, upstanding person—pretty empathetic and chilled out. I had always had healthy relationships and breakups previously.

    How the hell did I end up there?

    Many reasons, but one was I had a forgiveness problem.

    I had forgiven that guy so many times for bad behavior and had compromised myself so often in doing so—always trying to demonstrate the love that he didn’t seem to see, until I felt so downtrodden and disrespected that I snapped and pinched him.

    When I was sitting there in the spew, I read something by John Demartini in The Breakthrough Experience: “Anything you feel guilty about, you repeat; and anything you forgive, you keep attracting to your life. Forgiveness is a self-righteous illusion that makes someone bad or wrong and then presumes to judge and pardon. Apology is judging yourself, and both are guaranteed to perpetuate whatever you judge.”

    I sat there and looked around at my life, at the chunks of spew. Oh, I thought.

    Forgiveness—expected and given willy-nilly—if it is too easy, that can mean you can miss the lesson.

    It can mean you don’t make the change.

    You don’t up your game, you don’t alter the gear, you don’t recognize the necessity for more effort, more time, more learning, changed behavior—either from yourself or someone else. You go back to doing the same thing over and over again, staying stuck in the same habit, the same place. You don’t grow; you stagnate. You continue unhelpful habits.

    If someone hurts you or you hurt them, and it changes nothing about either of you or your relationship, you or they are likely to be hurt again. Pain can help to figure out what went wrong, what boundary was crossed.

    Easy forgiveness can sometimes mean you put yourself back in the way of the bus that just mowed you down, making yourself vulnerable to disrespect from yourself and others—bullies, people who take advantage of you.

    It can mean you compromise yourself over and over and over again, until you are trodden all over by people who don’t really mind. Not really.

    These people might see you hurt and feel guilty and want you to make them feel better about it by letting them off the hook.

    Easy forgiveness also means you didn’t have to try anything new. Never mind that sometimes you need to go to the new or scary or hard to fulfill your potential.

    Forgiveness is sometimes the easy way out.

    I had a forgiveness problem.

    I wasn’t vigilant. I allowed—and created—crappy friendships, crappy behavior, and crappy relationships.

    And not only did I allow crappy relationships with other people, but also with myself.

    I wanted to eat better but didn’t.

    I wanted to get better at hobbies—dance, fitness, plaiting my hair—but needed to set aside space in the day to practice.

    I wanted to be respected but had to start respecting myself, do things I respected, and stop putting up with disrespect—from friends, boyfriends, and myself.

    I wanted to get better grades, but I needed to read and respond to the critical feedback and put the time or effort into figuring out what went wrong.

    I wanted to create but needed to sit down and plan, dream, and put the effort in.

    I wanted to be my best self, to do something great—write something or make something or have a great idea—but it was always off in the future, sometime when I had the inspiration, time, money, and energy. When I had the right body, the right friends, the right hair, the right income, and the right environment… THEN I would be that girl.

    My forgiveness problem left me stuck. It allowed me to stay on my ass. It made me vulnerable to my own laziness and fears, and manipulation, disrespect, and emotional abuse—from others and myself.

    It meant I allowed—perpetuated, even—poor behavior, my own and others’. I pimped out my time to hobbies and other people’s dreams and to people who didn’t inspire, appreciate, or treat me as well as I treated them. It meant I didn’t have to inspire, appreciate, or treat myself well.

    I was susceptible to a narcissistic relationship that left me half the person I had been before, tiring on my friends and family, distracted from what I wanted in life, with a fairly broken sense of trust, truth, and my own abilities, and a Section 10 on my record.

    I was caught in a puddle of spew with so much anger at the injustice, and incredulity that forgiveness was not going to cut it anyway.

    But holding onto guilt, anger, fear, betrayal, and hurt is horrible. It feels horrible. Especially the big kind—the big hurts, the big betrayals that course through your body. What do you do about those?

    What’s the alternative when someone treats you poorly? Revenge? Hatred?

    And what about when you yourself mess up? When you’re not feeling good enough? Years of self-flagellation? People who can’t let things go, who take offense at every single little thing, or who punish themselves and others over and over and over seem angry, bitter, cruel, and paranoid. It seems like an unpleasant way to go through life.

    John DeMartini suggests gratitude for the lessons learned and inspired action are better alternatives than forgiveness.

    That was really hard to swallow at first. We are supposed to be grateful to people who hurt us? Even the really, really, really, really, really, really horrible, insane, unfair, and cruel ones who really hurt us and messed with our body, mind, and life? What about women who are bashed? Sexually assaulted? What if someone kills your son? Are you supposed to be grateful for that too?

    Yes, he says. See the opportunity. Say thank you for the lessons/blessings and take inspired action to make a change or take advantage of a situation.

    So, there in my pool of spew, I tried to sit and look for the lessons, the blessings, and start taking inspired action.

    Once I did, life started getting a bit better. I learned about domestic violence and what emotional abuse looked like—the patterns of communication, the dynamic, the ego involved.

    I spent more time on schoolwork and with friends who had a value system more similar to my own. I meditated. I did yoga. I tried to sit with pain and hurt. I started listening to the pain rather than dismissing it out of hand. And I started to take a real look at myself and how I appeared in the world.

    I started spending my time focusing on working, writing, dancing, journaling, and reading. I spent more care on my hair, skin, clothes, environment, makeup, and food. I put up better boundaries. Made my time precious. I practiced spending time and effort on activities, hobbies, and work that put me on the path to my goals—goals that I perhaps hadn’t thought about well enough before. Enjoying your own company is a great antidote to feeling the compulsive need to forgive people.

    Is forgiveness still part of the answer? Maybe. Maybe I was doing it wrong; maybe what I was doing was not forgiveness at all—it was just ego in forgiveness’ clothing. It was too easy. No one had to realize their mistakes or make changes, especially not me.

    Maybe also, there’s a balance (my mother insists forgiveness is required for long-term relationships). Maybe it’s about not sweating the small stuff, but also not using forgiveness to minimize other people’s bad behavior, or your own, so that you feel like a bigger person.

    Maybe it’s just that we are looking in the wrong place when we reach for or dole out forgiveness willy-nilly as if it’s an antidote for hurt. Maybe that’s like reaching for chocolate when you’re starving.

    Maybe action, change, new behaviors, or boundaries practiced over time can be healthier options for healing.

    Maybe sometimes those are what you actually need in order to let go of bitterness, soothe pain and betrayal, let go of judgment (it’s so heavy!), and feel less like a victim. So that at some point, you turn around and realize the hurt has gone and has ceded to something wiser, stronger, clearer, lighter, and more helpful.

  • There’s Nothing Wrong With Being Single: Releasing the Shame and Stigma

    There’s Nothing Wrong With Being Single: Releasing the Shame and Stigma

    “Single is no longer a lack of options, but a choice. A choice to refuse to let your life be defined by your relationship status but to live every day Happily and let your Ever After work itself out.” ~Mandy Hale

    In our society, being single is still heavily stigmatized. Being single is often perceived as something out of the norm. It is more acceptable to be part of a couple (even a dysfunctional one!) than it is to be single. And it is even more acceptable to be divorced than it is to be single.

    Unfortunately, our society makes us believe that being single is wrong, and your goal should be to find someone to be in a relationship with. Then and only then are you complete, happy, and more acceptable socially.

    Many single people feel lots of shame around being single. They feel like it’s their fault. They feel like there is something wrong with them. They feel like a failure.

    This societal pressure makes single people invest themselves in the wrong relationships, just to feel accepted.

    The reality is that being single is about being in a relationship with yourself. It is the most intimate relationship you will ever experience in your life. Being in a relationship with yourself should feel like the most natural thing, but it’s often regarded as an uncomfortable one. We find it easier to be with others than to be with ourselves. How crazy is that?

    I also want to add that it’s normal and healthy to want companionship. We want to connect with others. We are social animals. We are meant to be with others. Let’s not deny it.

    The problem starts when your desire to be in a relationship is fueled by the discomfort of being with yourself. The desperation for another person to save you from being single will only create more drama in your love life.

    That’s why it is so important to break thought the conditioning and become a happy single before you start looking for love.

    Ever since I can remember, I struggled with being single. I struggled with my status because I believed this collective conditioning around being single.

    I believed that it’s more socially acceptable to be in a relationship. I believed that there must be something wrong with me if I hadn’t found my life partner by the time I reached my thirties. That I was broken, less of a human being, and not complete, all because I was single.

    For the majority of my life, I desperately wanted to change my relationship status and escape all those thoughts and beliefs.

    I was ashamed of it. I felt like I hadn’t made it in life, because I couldn’t find a partner.

    I didn’t lke being on my own. I didn’t like being alone. I didn’t like having too much time on my hands.

    I used to make sure I had plans every weekend and I didn’t spend too much time in my own company, because it felt uncomfortable.

    I had plenty of friends. I always made sure I had plenty of things to do. I always made sure my diary was full of crap, all so I didn’t have to face myself.

    I became a compulsive dater. For a decade, my only goal was to find the love of my life, because I so desperately didn’t want to be single.

    I thought I was running away from being single, but I learned that all I was doing was running away from myself. And as you know, if there is one guaranteed thing in life, it’s the fact that you will spend it all with yourself! There is no way out. There is no escape. You can’t run away from yourself.

    At some point, I needed to realise that and see the truth. And I did.

    One summer morning, I woke up after one too many dates and decided that enough was enough.

    I couldn’t stand the emotional pain of falling for the wrong guys, being ghosted on a regular basis, and failing to find true love.

    I had enough of dating. I had enough of running away from myself. I had enough of chasing love, all so I could change my relationship status and feel proud for a moment that I had managed to attract a guy!

    This was a brave moment. For the first time in my life, I was brave enough to face myself. I was brave enough to say, “Stop.” I stopped the distractions like the dating, the over-active social life, the full diary, the life without a still moment.

    And that was when I started my search for the truth.

    That was the moment I started to question all the lies and beliefs that didn’t serve me.

    I discovered that my truth was that I am enough without a relationship.

    I don’t need a relationship to justify my worth to the world. I am whole and complete without a man. It is up to me to decide how I choose to live my life as a single, and how happy I am with it.

    I liberated myself from the collective conditioning, from believing that there was something wrong with me and that I needed to be in a relationship to be happy.

    Here are a few mind-set shifts that can help you find your truth about being single:

    1. Stop identifying with your relationship status.

    You are not your relationship. Your relationship status doesn’t define you as a person. Your single status doesn’t mean anything other than the one true fact: you haven’t found the right person yet. Always remember that, whether you are single or married, you are the same magnificent being. This is constant in your life. Your relationship status will change throughout your life, but your intrinsic worth shouldn’t.

    2. Know your worth.

    Your worth doesn’t come from the outside. Your worth doesn’t come with a relationship, a partner, or a wedding ring on your finger.

    For so long, so much of my own worth was attached to my relationship status. This was the very reason I suffered as a single. For some reason, I believed I would be a better and more accomplished person if I had a boyfriend. My worthiness depended on it. So, for as long as I didn’t have a boyfriend, I felt useless about myself.

    But your true worth comes from within. Your true worth is intrinsic. You were born worthy and good enough. Nothing external can add to your true worthiness, and nothing external can take away from your worthiness. You are worthy just the way you are.

    3. There is nothing wrong with you.

    The only reason why you are single is you haven’t met the right person yet. End of the story. It’s not because you are not attractive enough, not educated enough, people don’t find you interesting, you need to lose weight, you need to get a new job, or anything else you can think of to disparage yourself.

    Don’t build a negative story that will make you feel miserable. Accept the truth and end there. The only reason you are single is the absence of the right person in your life, not because there is something wrong with you.

    4. It’s not your fault.

    Stop blaming yourself. Stop beating yourself up. It’s not your fault that you are single. If you met the right person, you would be in a relationship now, right? So why feel ashamed of something out of your control? Being single doesn’t make you right or wrong. It is just what it is. Just accept that the time hasn’t come yet, and enjoy your life until it does. Live it to the full!

    5. Rise above collective conditioning.

    The collective conditioning is so wrong, but it’s also strong and deeply ingrained. That’s why it’s difficult to see beyond it and believe the opposite. Regardless of your relationship status, you must rise above it and value yourself.

    We as a society have created this massive collective belief that being single is difficult and must be miserable, which is based on our biggest fear—the fear of being lonely. But relationships can be difficult too. It’s entirely possible to feel miserable in a relationship.

    Once you have befriended your solitude, you will see the truth of the experience. Being single can be as awesome as you make it. You are in charge of how you want to use your time as a single.

    6. Stop glorifying relationships.

    Being in a relationship is not better than being single. Being single or married is not better or worse. They both come with different challenges, lessons, and benefits. They challenge us in different ways. It’s all about embracing your current challenges and enjoying the benefits. If you learn that while you are single, you will be able to apply the same philosophy in your future relationship, especially when it becomes challenging.

    7. Stay true to yourself.

    Staying true to yourself is about self-respect. It’s about respecting your values and standards. It’s about making choices based on what you truly want rather than caving to others’ expectations. It’s better to stay single and go for what you truly deserve in love than it is to settle for less and waste time with the wrong people, and lose yourself in the process.

    Staying true to yourself will help you feel more independent, confident, and happy. But it also means that sometimes you will feel uncomfortable and vulnerable. It won’t be easy all the time. But what is worse would be doing something against yourself and betraying your values.

    —

    Being single happened to be the most transformational period of my life. It can bring a transformation to your life too if you start living it more intentionally as a single.

    Being single can be fun. Being single can be explorative. Being single can be expansive and happy.

    It’s up to you what you make of it and what you choose to believe.

    If you want to start changing how you feel about being single, start exploring the stories you tell yourself.

    Our stories are very powerful. When you repeat a story regularly, it becomes your truth and you start to believe it.

    Examine what being single means to you and what meaning you give your single status.

    Your story might be that being single means your life is empty, that people in relationships are having more fun, or that you will only be happy if you have a partner.

    Once you have identified your story, ask yourself how to create the opposite of what you believe. For example, how can being single be full of life and joy? How can I have or create more fun while I’m single? What can I do to be happier here and now?

    Let your answers guide you to take more positive actions and start living your life as a single to the best of your abilities.

    Maximize this time and regularly step out of your comfort zone. Start up new hobbies and learn new things. Cultivate the most important relationship you have–the one with yourself! Use every opportunity that comes your way to grow. Make every day the best day of your life. When you live your life as a single in this intentional way, you won’t even have time to notice that you are single!

  • What If We Listened and Opened Our Minds Instead of Shouting and Judging?

    What If We Listened and Opened Our Minds Instead of Shouting and Judging?

    “If you can laugh with somebody and relate to somebody, it becomes harder to dehumanize them. I think that most of what we are constantly bombarded with in terms of media leads you to a creation of ‘the Other’ and a dehumanization of ‘the Other,’ and it’s very much an us-versus-them conversation.” ~Jehane Noujaim

    People are really hard to hate up close.

    In today’s acrimonious political climate, whole groups of people seem to be pitted against one another based on various political, ideological, class, geographic and racial classifications. And yet, spend a day with “the other” and it’s difficult to resist the gravitational forces of our shared humanity that make those walls come a’ tumbling down.

    New York State, like many others, has a wonderful tradition of civilian run elections. Each polling precinct is manned by four election inspectors—two Democrats and two Republicans.

    From 5:30am to 9:00pm—other than the two thirty-minute breaks to which each inspector is entitled—these four individuals spend every moment together sharing responsibility over the most minute of tasks, from opening packets of ballots to recording the serial number of the dozen or so seals on various documents and pieces of equipment.

    Once the polls are closed, vote tallies recorded and everything securely stowed, usually round 9:30pm, everyone goes home. It’s a long day.

    For these sixteen hours of work, all inspectors are earn $225, or around $14 per hour—not bad, but well below the earning potential of most of the inspectors. Many of the inspectors are “old-timers” who have been doing this three or four times a year (in addition to the big November elections, there are primary elections and other local referendums) for many years.

    Last year, sort of in between jobs and living in the United States for the first time in many years, I decided to become an election inspector.

    Far removed from America’s increasingly bitter political divide, I was a little bit apprehensive about what to expect or how this was all going to work so harmoniously. After all, the America I left after graduating from college was one in which people from all segments of our political spectrum—which compared to other countries’ is surprisingly narrow—could have a discussion without being branded white supremacists, snowflakes, fascists, or traitors.

    Once upon a time in the quaint old days less than twenty years ago, political talk was sometimes pleasant and not always so insufferable and divisive.

    Like all others, my polling station had three other inspectors. One of the other inspectors turned out to be the father of a girl I’d grown up with from our Hebrew school days but had not seen in nearly twenty years, once a close family friend.

    Another was a retired school administrator, an Irish guy who had grown up in the Bronx and slowly migrated ten miles or so north to Westchester County over the course of his life.

    Finally, there was an African American lady who had been born, raised, and was still living in Mount Vernon, a nearby city perhaps most notable as the sometime home of Malcolm X.

    As the hours passed and different members of the team shared the various responsibilities and each took his or her break time, everyone found themselves getting to know the others one by one.

    With the one guy whose daughter I used to know, reconnecting was fun, and nothing seemed to have changed other than that we were all older.

    The Irish guy shared my love and knowledge of the local waterways (I’m a sailor and he’s a diver). He was a Republican who didn’t vote for and viscerally disliked President Trump; he was more of a John McCain or Nelson Rockefeller kind of guy who felt Trump was an abomination to his lifelong political affiliation.

    The African-American lady was a Democrat who, judging by her apparent age, may very well have remembered or even met Malcolm X during the tumultuous Civil Rights Era, didn’t like Trump either but also didn’t understand the current white supremacy scare. She remembered a lot worse racial tension and fear in her lifetime and thought that all the recent talk was based in reality but overblown.

    During the slow portions of those sixteen hours, even when politics came up, nobody raised their voices nor found anything to get angry about. Politics was sprinkled around more immediately pressing topics like family, local community developments, and lunch.

    And, where there were disagreements, after talking it all out with the copious amount of time that we had on our hands, it became clear that there was a strong foundation of shared values—respect for individual freedoms, belief in racial equality, etc.—on top of which the (relatively minor) disagreements were built. There was much more in common than there was different.

    You would never know it from reading the headlines, but this observation is actually reflective of society at large, as political science studies and public opinion polls over the years have consistently shown a clustering of public sentiment on most major issues toward the center.

    And yet, the loudest and most extreme voices seem to be the one that dominate the debate. Controversies erupt over smaller and smaller issues, such as symbols of past oppression as actual oppression becomes less prevalent.

    It’s not that today’s issues are trivial—you would certainly be concerned if you were a gender non-conforming person being forced into using a bathroom based on your biological sex or an African American who had to pass by a statue of Jefferson Davis every day on your way to work—but that the final 10% of every issue, namely the public policy prescription for how to “solve” it, is nowadays typically built on top of an agreement over 90% of the multiple facets and relevant fundamental questions involved.

    Only the most extreme fringe elements of society support institutionalized discrimination, secession from the nation, limitation of basic rights, etc. In most instances, the disagreement is over the “how to get there” as opposed to the “where we are going” or “who we are.”

    More importantly, whatever people’s political beliefs, it is exceedingly rare to find people today who are consciously bigoted. He might think men are men and women are women like in the good old days, but faced with an actual person—maybe his son or nephew—undergoing a struggle with gender, those fixed opinions usually soften.

    She might not get her sister-in-law’s “churchiness” but nevertheless appreciate the values it seems to instill.

    These prejudices are borne from ignorance and isolation, not hate.

    Moreover, even among people affiliated with bigoted or extreme views or organizations, it is my firm belief that what is at work is more an unfortunate facet of group psychology: it is easy to hate a distant group, a faceless enemy, or a caricature of a supposed threat.

    It is even easier when riled up by a group of like-minded people, an all-too-common phenomenon as America self-segregates by class, culture, and geography.

    And, to pour gasoline on top of this whole incendiary situation, it is still easier when these types of conflicts sell papers and generate clicks, especially within marginalized communities suffering economic or cultural dislocation.

    Not surprisingly, the most extreme and bigoted views are typically found in relatively homogenous and often economically distressed communities far away from many of the problems or “bad guys” they fear. When people get together, hate becomes difficult to maintain, and it is difficult not to relate with one another on some level.

    I wonder how fixed all of these angry opinions would be if we all at least once spent sixteen hours at a polling station or had to live and work in ideologically integrated communities or even share a meal with “the other.”

    I wonder how long it would take the narrative of this hopelessly divided nation to unravel before the truth that we all share so much more than what divides us.

    Perhaps there is a small duty we should take on each and every day from now on.

    If you’re reading this, you probably already accept the most basic spiritual truism that we are all part of something greater, and the goal of nirvana or heaven or whatever you choose to call it is the oneness without separation from all life.

    Why not endeavor to keep that in mind the next time you are in a heated political argument or shouting at the television? After all, the concept of oneness isn’t meant to be merely a comforting idea but a way to live, a view of a better earth.

    Even better, why not go out of your way to break down the daunting barriers that divide us? Reach out and engage or listen to someone outside of the type of person who would normally be inclined to agree with your point of view.

    And, your engagement need not be about politics. Maybe it would be even better to focus on something that’s shared. You’ll probably find the “daunting barrier” is more like a “thin veneer.”

    There is also gratitude, an indispensable daily practice in a spiritually oriented life. Once again, the issues involved in politics today are not trivial—injustice is alive and well in this world, and so much needs fixing. However, can we not each day take a moment and realize how far we have come?

    For example, white supremacists were able to muster a few hundred people to march on Charlottesville, VA in the largest such rally in decades. Have we forgotten that less than a century ago the majority of America—not a fringe group—shared most of their uglier points of view?

    Likewise, while poverty in America remains a stubborn problem, can we not be thankful that we are indisputably living in an age of unprecedented prosperity among humankind?

    The point of this gratitude is not to engender complacency. There is simply too much at stake. However, if we can find space for gratitude, perhaps even the most strident voice of the most passionate advocate of whatever policy could be softened. The angry activist could become the happy warrior.

    And that’s one of the major ironies of today’s politics, that with such an air of negativity, even the most just cause will repel fair-minded people. Gratitude can help us to stop shouting and start listening and speaking with one another with respect and love.

    This is how spirituality and consciousness, which are as a genre of writing or literary interest so often completely divorced from current affairs, can help heal our poisonous political atmosphere.

    After all, spirituality isn’t about escaping the world and self-soothing by occupying a peaceful place in the clouds; it’s about gaining the strength to thrive in a challenging world and even doing the hard work to make it better.

    As I found, after sitting in an overtly political setting for sixteen hours with three other apparently very different people who disagreed on a lot of topics, the work isn’t always so hard. It can even be fun.

  • It’s Okay to Be Who You Are – Forget Approval and Show Your True Colors

    It’s Okay to Be Who You Are – Forget Approval and Show Your True Colors

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

    How often do you find yourself doing things just because you have to and not because you want to? I’m not talking about the hard work we do to improve at our jobs or the responsibilities we have to our families. I’m referring to those things we do just to please others, to project a certain image of ourselves to the world that isn’t in line with who we really are.

    A few years ago, I was searching within myself to find out who I really was.

    I’d been so obsessed with creating a mask that people would love that I could no longer recognize myself in the mirror.

    I am an ambivert, and I don’t express my feelings much. I tend to smile rather than squeal with joy. I fall silent rather than shout with anger.

    Because of these traits, people used to call me “poker face,” and I felt as if something was wrong with me. Determined to shed this label, I forced myself to be loud and attended all social events with my friends inspite of exhaustion. But deep inside all I wanted was a quiet appointment with myself.

    Assuming that being extroverted was the only way to make friends, I pushed myself too hard, which led to an emotional breakdown. As a result, I fell prey to self-destructive habits like skipping meals, binge eating junk food, staying up late at night, and waking up at odd hours, which landed me in the hospital.

    After that, I spent a lot of time reflecting on what had caused that situation and looked inside myself to know what I really wanted.

    Since then, I’ve listened to my inner voice more than I’ve listened to others. I’ve started to be myself without worrying about anyone else’s opinion. And I’ve stopped fulfilling people’s expectations of me and started feeling comfortable in my own skin.

    Some of the lessons I learned during the journey were…

    Face your fears.

    The two words that changed my perspective on life were “What if?” What if I spent my evenings curled up with a book? What if I excused myself from a social gathering when I felt exhausted? What if I chose not to express myself loudly?

    Think about what really scares you. Think about what restrains you from unleashing your true self.

    Is it the possibility of creating conflict between you and your friends? Is it the prospect of being different? Or do you fear your own inner critic?

    Exploring your answers to all these questions will start you on a beautiful journey of self-discovery and open up different sides to your character that you may not be aware of. Spelling out loud what you actually fear is work half done to make it go away, which leads me to the next two steps on how to tackle them.

    Calm your inner critic.

    I discovered that, more than anything else, I was scared of my inner critic.

    There is something inside all of us that alerts us when we go down the wrong path—our conscience. But I’m not talking about our conscience, but rather the voice that stops you from achieving your full potential. The voice that prevents you from doing something even though you know deep inside that it is the right thing. The voice that beats you up for the slightest error.

    This voice inside me grew louder when I did something against the grain, like excusing myself from a party to enjoy a quiet evening. It accused me of being an anti-social, self-centred person. It made me think my friends would drift away if I continued this behavior. I felt controlled by this voice of mine, which turned out to be my vice.

    Remember, this voice, which you’ve trained your mind to believe, is the result of the misconceptions about friends and life in general. So suppressing this voice is not the solution; the more you suppress it, the louder it grows.

    Rather, this voice needs to be answered with reason. When I started explaining to my inner critic that it’s not always possible to be there for everyone else and that caring for myself does not amount to being anti-social, I felt the voice becoming feeble.

    Repeat positive affirmations to yourself when the critic inside you grows stronger.

    Whenever your genuine self feels threatened by others’ opinions, you need to love yourself enough to stand up for it. It’s only by fostering self-respect that you gain the confidence to face the world without a mask. Self-respect acts as a shield that protects your true self from the confusions of the external world.

    Cast away the fear of being different.

    It’s okay to have different wants and desires as long as you don’t hurt anyone. Your perspective on life does not have to be the same as all your friends’ perspectives.

    Don’t pretend to share someone else’s view just to fit in. Understand that being different is not equivalent to being weird.

    Having a different say on the matter brings with it the possibility of conflict. But conflict is not something to fear and be avoided, as it provides a chance to understand the person in front of you better and it can lead to interesting conversations, if you stay civil and open-minded.

    I opened my eyes to the fact that nodding my head in approval at whatever my friend says does not bring me closer to her. When I started sharing my ambiverted views on socializing with my extroverted friend, we started arguing initially, but slowly we came to understand each other.

    I gained insight into how extroverts have a natural tendency to express feelings loudly, and that being around people makes them happy. My friend, on the other hand, understood my need for a weekend at home to energize myself for the week ahead. She recognized that I actually enjoy spending time by myself. It proved to be a learning experience for both of us.

    Only when you convey your opinion calmly, without needing to be right, can you forge a connection with someone. Accept the fact that you are unique just like everyone else.

    Pause before saying yes.

    Before you commit yourself to attending an event or helping someone else, pause and think about why you want to do it. It’s important to ask yourself first before saying yes to others.

    The prospect of saying no often brings with it the fear of coming across as a rude person and potentially losing your friends. This rarely turns out to be true because in healthy relationships, both people understand that they need to provide space for each other.

    When I decided to take a break from social obligations, I noticed that one or two of my friends distanced themselves from me, but nothing changed in my close relationships. They accepted and respected my decision.

    Pushing yourself too hard will eventually lead to resentment. You can only be happy, and share that happiness with others, if you prioritize creating satisfaction from within.

    Find your forte.

    Everyone has a spark inside that needs the right channelling to shine. Experimenting and discovering what you really love doing is a great way to connect with your inner self.

    When you do something that you love and have a natural flair for, you connect with yourself on a deeper level. You see the talents you possess. This gives you the confidence to be yourself without worrying about others’ approval.

    Now, when someone calls me “poker face” it never bothers me because I know I am not an insensitive person with no emotions. I just choose to express them differently than others—through my writing. Writing helps me explore and express my emotions far better than speaking about them.

    Make yourself feel good by taking some time for your favourite pastime. Engage yourself fully in that activity. Enjoy the feeling of getting lost in it.

    Practice your art regularly, not for exhibiting it to the world, but to mirror the artist within you.

    Strengthen your core values.

    Core values are the principles that define us, and we should never compromise them just to please other people. Strong core values help us make choices that are right for us. They show us the path to peace in the midst of chaos. But it can be tough to hold on to our values when faced with outside influences, such as the people around us and the media.

    When I was younger I believed that my work should do most of the talking, and I was confident in what I did. I used to believe that friendships happen, not by searching for them, but by putting myself in situations where I’d meet other people and having an open mind and heart.

    When I started college, the urge to impress people made me forget these basic principles of mine. The idea of fitting in with my peers turned me into someone whom I barely recognized.

    Eventually, I reinforced my basic beliefs by working hard to achieve my study goals and allowing myself to be authentic. I also listened to people with an open mind rather than dominating conversations. These small actions helped me reconnect with myself

    Celebrate your true self.

    Every person in the world has their own strengths and weaknesses. No one is perfect, even if they seem that way. What meets the eye is just the tip of an iceberg. So never beat yourself up for mistakes, embarrassments, or for having negative thoughts. All of these contribute to the uniqueness of your character.

    The moment I started being myself, I noticed a lot of people just like me, lost and isolated in the big world. I actually made new friends who loved me as I am.

    The world wants to know your authentic self, with all your flaws, rather than a staged, perfected version. So never be afraid to show your true colors.

    —

    We must grow and improve to reach great heights, but reach out only for those goals that truly appeal to you. Life has insightful lessons to teach—learn them your way, at your own pace.

    Reveal your genuine self and expose the glorious treasures buried deep inside you to the world. Remove the shadows of self-doubt from your life and let your immaculate self soar high beyond boundaries.

  • What Annoys Us About Others Can Teach Us About Ourselves

    What Annoys Us About Others Can Teach Us About Ourselves

    “Everything that irritates us about others can lead us to an understanding of ourselves.” ~Carl Jung

    When my wife and I had children, little did we know that we’d be creating little bundles of nerves. Between my wife’s depression and my own anxiety, we created two anxiety-ridden, depressed balls of mess, and then some.

    Don’t get me wrong, we love our two girls to death, and we are very proud of them. They are both very strong and beautiful young ladies. Occasionally we like hanging out with them too.

    While the two girls have similar interests, their personalities couldn’t be more different. They both exhibit anxiety and depression, yet they show it in different ways. The oldest has panic attacks and hyperventilates, unable to stop herself from crying and heaving. The youngest just curls up in a ball and is unable to move or do anything.

    We find it interesting that the qualities we love, and those we dislike, about both girls stem from both of us. It is as though the Universe took the best and the worst from both of us and amplified it in our children.

    All That Talent Gone to Waste

    My oldest daughter is naturally talented in many areas. She’s strong and athletic, she’s naturally artistic, she’s smart, and she also has a talent for music. She has a beautiful voice, and picked up playing classical guitar in almost no time.

    What drives my wife crazy is that my daughter doesn’t realize how talented and gifted she is.

    What drives me crazy is that she doesn’t develop that talent, and do something with it. She has so much potential.

    As parents, it is easy for us to look at our children and wail and moan about their perceived shortcomings, their lost potential, and so forth. We know what they are going through, because we have both been there. We both struggle with anxiety, so we know what it looks like and how it affects our children.

    In general, isn’t it easier to see the shortcomings that we perceive in other people, than our own?

    Little Mirrors

    What I’ve realized, however, is that our children mirror our own behaviors and attitudes as parents. What annoy us about our children’s personalities are often quirks we ourselves have.

    This principle actually applies to all our relationships, not just with those of us with children. We should stop and ask ourselves, “Am I setting that example? Am I acting the same way?” Often, we don’t realize that what annoys us about someone else is actually an issue we ourselves have.

    For instance, in extreme cases, children who exhibit violent behaviors often come from violent households. They are mirroring the behavior they have been exposed to at home.

    In my wife’s case, it drives her crazy that my oldest daughter doesn’t realize how talented and gifted she is, even though my wife clearly sees it. Yet, when I look at my wife, I see the same thing in her! It is indeed ironic.

    My wife doesn’t think she’s very talented or gifted, and wonders what people see in her. Obviously I saw something in her, because I married her! So the very issue that irritates my wife about my daughter is the very issue that she herself unconsciously struggles with.

    So Much Potential…

    What drives me nuts about my oldest daughter? It frustrates me that I see so much potential in her, and yet I don’t see her developing it. She has so much natural talent, she could be a leader. Her peers look up to her and admire her, and she doesn’t even realize it.

    What does this say about me? Am I the same way?

    Looking at myself through the same lenses, I am forced to laugh, because I do see the same thing! Like my daughter, I probably have many talents I don’t even realize I have. Looking at myself from the outside, I think I have the potential to be a leader as well, but I choose not to. I had so much potential…

    Learning About Ourselves

    From this perspective, I can’t really blame my daughter. I have social anxiety and don’t want to deal with people, and I know she does too. Often times I’ll go out of my way to avoid people. What I perceive as my daughter not developing her talents is more than likely her not wanting to be the center of attention. I can relate to that—I don’t like being the center of attention either.

    I never thought I would be learning about myself from my own children. Sure, I figured they’d know more about new technologies than me, for example. When I have a question about how to do something on my iPhone, for instance, I go to them, and they can show me right away.

    Yet, what my children are teaching me are what issues I need to deal with in myself. Perhaps I, too, have many skills and undeveloped potential, if only I could learn to manage my social anxiety. We often want our children to be different from us, to have different experiences. We don’t want them to go through the same things we struggled with, yet as much as we try or want to, we can’t change who they are.

    We can, however, change ourselves. There is value in stopping to reflect on what frustrates you about your children, your family, or your friends. What behaviors irritate you? What do you think they could be doing better?

    Then stop and look at yourself. Are you exhibiting the same behaviors? What could you be doing better? Are you making the changes in yourself that you’d like to see in your relationships?

    Practice the Golden Rule

    Of course as parents, we want to support our children and provide them everything they need to be happy, healthy, and successful. What parent doesn’t? It may frustrate us that they are not living up to their potential, as we see it—but the apple doesn’t fall too far from the tree. Are they mirroring our own behavior?

    As parents, we show our children love and patience, but our expectations of them should follow the mirroring principle, or the golden rule—would we want to be held to the same standards? My daughter could be captain of the soccer team, but would I want to be one, if I was in her position? Probably not.

    We could make our kids practice the piano for an hour every day, and do their homework for three hours after school. Would we want to do that? Probably not.

    The mirroring principle with our children, family, and friends, then, goes both ways. What can we learn about ourselves from our relationships? Conversely, what should we expect from our family and friends, that we ourselves would be willing to do?