Tiny Buddha

Category: love & relationships

  • 10 Lessons My Mother’s Death Taught Me About Healing and Happiness

    10 Lessons My Mother’s Death Taught Me About Healing and Happiness

    “Grief, when it comes, is nothing like we expect it to be.” ~Joan Didion

    This spring marked ten years since I lost my mother. One ordinary Thursday, she didn’t show up to work, and my family spent a blur of days frantically hanging missing person fliers, driving all over New England, and hoping against reason for a happy outcome.

    My mother was prone to frequent mood swings, but she also talked to my two older brothers and me multiple times a day, and going off the grid was completely out of character. How does someone just vanish? And why?

    Forty days is a long time to brood over worst-case scenarios: murder, kidnap, dissociative fugue cycled through my addled mind. I gave in to despair but always managed to buoy myself up with hope. My mom was my best friend, and at twenty years old, I needed her too much to lose her. She simply had to come home.

    Six weeks later, my brother called. Right up front he said he loved me—a sure sign bad news was coming. There was no way to say what he had to say next, so he just spat it out like sour milk: our mother’s body had been found.

    A diver checking moorings in a cold New England harbor had spotted something white on the ocean floor. That white whale was our mom’s station wagon. She had driven off the end of a pier. We didn’t say the word suicide, but we both thought it, failed to comprehend it.

    It’s been ten years since that terrible spring. Much of it still doesn’t make sense to me, but a decade has softened the rawness of my grief and allowed moments of lightness to find their way back into my life, the way sunrise creeps around the edges of a drawn window shade.

    Losing someone to suicide makes you certain you’ll never see another sunrise, much less appreciate one. It isn’t true. I’m thirty years old now and my life is bigger, scarier, and more fulfilling than I ever could have imagined. Grief helped get me here.

    Grief is not something you can hack. There is no listicle that can reassemble your busted heart. But I have found that grieving can make your life richer in unexpected ways. Here are ten truths the biggest loss of my life has taught me:

    1. Dying is really about living.

    At my mother’s memorial, I resented everyone who said some version of that old platitude, “Time heals all wounds.” Experience has taught me that time doesn’t offer a linear healing process so much as a slowly shifting perspective.

    In the first raw months and years of grieving, I pushed away family and friends, afraid that they would leave too. With time, though, I’ve forged close relationships and learned to trust again. Grief wants you to go it alone, but we need others to light the way through that dark tunnel.

    2. No one will fill that void.

    I have a mom-shaped hole in my heart. Turns out it’s not a fatal condition, but it is a primal spot that no one will ever fill. For a long time, I worried that with the closest relationship in my life suddenly severed, I would never feel whole again. Who would ever understand me in all the ways my mother did?

    These days I have strong female role models in my life, but I harbor no illusions that any of them will take my mom’s place. I’ve slowly been able to let go of the guilt that I was replacing or dishonoring her by making room for others. Healing is not an act of substituting, but of expanding, despite the holes we carry.

    3. Be easy on yourself. 

    In the months after losing my mother, I was clumsy, forgetful and foggy. I can’t recall any of the college classes I took during that time. Part of my grieving process entailed beating myself up for what I could not control, and my brain fog felt like yet another failure.

    In time, the fog lifted and my memories returned. I’ve come to see this as my mind going into survival mode with its own coping mechanisms.

    Being kind to myself has never been my strong suit, and grief likes to make guilt its sidekick. Meditation, yoga, and journaling are three practices that help remind me that kindness is more powerful than listening to my inner saboteur.

    4. Use whatever works. 

    I’m not a Buddhist, but I find the concept of letting go and not clinging to anything too tightly to be powerful.

    I don’t read self-help, but I found solace in Joan Didion’s memoir The Year of Magical Thinking.

    I’m not religious, but I found my voice in a campus support group run by a chaplain.

    I hadn’t played soccer since I was a kid, but I joined an adult recreational league and found that I could live completely in the moment while chasing a ball around a field.

    There isn’t a one-size-fits-all grieving method. Much of it comes down to flailing around until you find what works. Death is always unexpected; so too are the ways we heal.

    5. Gratitude wins.

    We always feel that we lost a loved one too soon. My mom gave me twenty good years. Of course I would’ve liked more time, but self-pity and gratitude are flipsides of the same coin; choosing the latter will serve you in positive ways, while the former gives you absolutely nothing.

    6. Choose to thrive.

    My mom and I share similar temperaments. After her death, I worried I was also destined for an unhappy outcome. This is one of the many tricks that grief plays: it makes you think you don’t deserve happiness.

    It’s easier to self-destruct than it is to practice self-care. I initially coped through alcohol and other destructive methods, but I knew this was only clouding my grieving process. I had to face the pain directly, and write my way through it. So I wrote a book.

    Everyone has their own constructive coping mechanisms, and choosing those, even when it’s hard, is worth it in the long run. My mother may not have been able to find happiness in her own life, but I know she would want that for me. No one is going to water you like a plant—you have to choose to thrive.

    7. Time heals, but on its own timeline.

    “Time heals all wounds” is something I heard a lot at my mother’s memorial service. Here’s what I wish I had known: grief time does not operate like normal time. In the first year, the present was obscured entirely by the past. Grieving demanded that I revisit every detail leading up to losing my mom.

    As I slowly started to find effective coping mechanisms, I began to feel more rooted in the present. My mood did not have to be determined by the hurts of the past.

    There will always be good days and bad. This is the bargain we sign on for as humans. Once we make it through the worst days, we gain a heightened sense of appreciation for the small moments of joy to be found in normal days. Healing comes over time, but only if we’re willing to do the work of grieving.

    8. Let your loss highlight your gains.

    I’ve lived in New York City for eight years now, but it still shocks me that I’ve built a life that I love here. It’s a gift I attribute to my mom. She was always supportive of my stubborn desire to pursue a career as a writer. After she died, the only thing that made sense to me was to write about the experience.

    This led me to grad school in New York, a place I had never even considered living before. It feels like home now. I wish I could share it with my mom, but it was her belief in me that got me here. I lost my mom, but I found a home, good friends, a career I love and the perspective to appreciate it all.

    9. Heartbreak is a sign of progress.

    In the first years after the big loss, I assumed romance was dead to me. Why would I allow someone else to break my heart? Luckily I got past this fear to the point where I was able to experience a long and loving relationship.

    That relationship eventually imploded, but I did not, which strikes me as a sign of progress. Grief makes us better equipped to weather the other life losses that are sure to come. This is not pessimism. This is optimism that the rewards of love always trump its risks.

    10. Grief makes us beginners.

    Death is the only universal, and grieving makes beginners out of all of us. Yet grief affects us all in different ways. There is no instruction manual on how best to cope.

    There is only time, day by day and sometimes minute by minute, to feel what works, and to cast aside what does not. In the ten years I’ve learned to live without my mother, I’ve tried to see my grieving process as an evolutionary one. Loss has enriched my life in challenging, unexpected, and maybe even beautiful ways.

  • The Art of Being Happily Single

    The Art of Being Happily Single

    “Uncertainty is the only certainty there is, and knowing how to live with insecurity is the only security.” ~John Allen Paulos

    Over the past ten years, I always had a man by my side. I was always in a relationship.

    I was in a relationship for eight years before my ex and I got engaged, then broke it off because of the distance—my ex’s reason. Not long after that I got into a two-year relationship with a man who loved, yet cheated on me. It was a messy breakup.

    So after ten years in relationships, I found myself alone.

    I’m thirty-one and single!

    Recently some questions have bounced around in mind: What happened to me during those years? What did I get, gain, achieve in these two relationships? Why am I now alone? What will I do? How do I do things by myself?

    Now what? Where to start?

    I started to panic, to hyperventilate—until I found this quote:

    “Single is not a status. It is a word that describes a person who is strong enough to live and enjoy life without depending on others.”

    Yes, I am scared. I was so used to sharing everything. I was so used to having someone around.

    But the reality is I am my own person, and if I can’t enjoy being single, how can I enjoy being with someone else?

    So I started reading about being single, and interviewing other happy single people. Surely I wasn’t the only thirty-one-year-old person who felt uncertain about her new singleness. I needed to find proven ways to be happy as a single adult woman.

    In my research, I learned some important truths about being single: (more…)

  • Is Your Life Really as Perfect as It Looks on Facebook?

    Is Your Life Really as Perfect as It Looks on Facebook?

    Retro woman with phone

    “Most men would rather deny a hard truth than face it.” ~George R.R. Martin, A Game of Thrones

    So would most women.

    This is the way we have encountered life so far. Better to show the world just the socially acceptable and shove the rest under the rug. That’s where the hard truths go.

    But we all know the trouble with the rug. Stuff builds up under the rug and eventually you land on your face. Hard truths don’t go away.

    Social media is exacerbating the historical tendency to present only the pretty, so we’re justifiably, and understandably, really scared about putting the hard truth out there.

    Naturally, we don’t post that our relationship is in trouble, or that we’re going to lose our business, or that we have a physical illness, or some deep emotional stuff that we’re working through, or that we’ve been diagnosed with anxiety, or depression, or have an addiction.

    If we did, it might bring a whole slew of support, but it’s also a high-risk maneuver.

    I saw a meme the other day that read, “May your life be as amazing as you pretend it is on Facebook.”

    It made me laugh out loud. And I’m as guilty as anyone.

    I’m a big advocate of transparency and vulnerability. I’ve written publicly about my eating disorder, as well as depression and anxiety. Those were big.

    But you are unlikely to see me online yelling at my kids, crying after I’ve argued with my husband, or first thing in the morning, pre-caffeine and make-up.

    Recently, on Facebook, I posted a playhouse that I’d sanded it down and re-painted for my kids. I felt pretty damn pleased with myself.

    Here’s what I didn’t post.

    I actively encouraged my four-year-old to watch TV for a lot of the day while I painted.

    The next day my husband yelled at my six-year-old for turning on the electric sander without supervision. She cried. I was annoyed with him for watching rugby and not helping me, even though I didn’t really even want his help. I wanted to take credit for doing it all myself, and I did.

    This is hardly egregious behavior. It’s not super high on the shame scale. But still, I just posted the happy ending. My two girls standing by the white picket fence smiling.

    Actually, it’s a grey picket fence, and I think that’s a great metaphor. Because our lives are never black and white. A lot of life is grey.

    Having a crappy day (or week or month or year), getting the odd bit of road rage, feeling bitter and twisted toward our co-workers, worrying about our appearance, feeling overwhelmed and rushed, disliking the behavior of our children, getting sick—that’s grey.

    We’re ashamed of the grey because we think it is unacceptable.

    But the more unacceptable thing is to choose not to acknowledge it, and to pretend we’re not human. Because clearly we are.

    Part of being human is smiling kids, cute playhouses, and happy families. A big part. A beautiful part.

    But it’s not all of it.

    By ignoring what we perceive as not so beautiful, we do ourselves a disservice. We do our fellow humans a disservice. Because we are not telling the hard truth.

    But the reason we are not telling the hard truth is because it is hard. It feels way too vulnerable.

    We’ve all felt the pain of judgment, whether from ourselves, or from others. It’s a hard thing to recover from.

    It brings up shame, and nothing keeps you quiet like shame. Shame ensures we take the safe option. Picnics with our kids, holidays, sunshine, and happy faces.

    And you know what? This is okay. In the meantime.

    I don’t believe in feeling the fear and doing it anyway. Fear, like any other emotion, has something to tell us. Fear believes it is trying to protect us. So I believe in feeling my fear, acknowledging my fear, honoring my fear for what it’s trying to protect me from, and then letting it know that I’m doing it anyway.

    I wonder, can we honor our fear and allow it to help us be more vulnerable, and more real? To help us show up more? Little by little?

    Can we recognize our shame and our denial, too, and thank them for their role? Can we listen and learn so we can move on?

    Shame, denial, and fear are like misunderstood bad boys. They’ve put up a wall. They are trying to protect you from judgment, because they know how much it hurts.

    Shame will tell you that you can never let anyone know, because whatever it is doesn’t measure up.

    Denial will tell you that if you don’t engage with the hard truth, it can’t hurt you.

    Fear will tell you that courage is a lofty goal you probably can’t reach.

    Like with bad boys, you know in your heart that it’s not healthy to stay in the relationship. You’ve got to learn from the relationship and find a way to leave as gracefully as possible.

    When I experienced depression and anxiety, I had a close relationship with all of them.  

    I wanted to believe there was no problem. If there was a problem I could explain it away with something else.

    I wanted to believe that if I just tried harder, these symptoms would go away. And try I did.

    I wanted to be courageous, but I couldn’t.

    I wasn’t ready to leave denial, and this resulted in a very difficult few years—for me, for my husband, and for my babies.

    When I did leave, I found a way to sort through the grey. Shame and fear were still frequent visitors. They needed time to let go.

    We all needed time to integrate. And this was okay. Not at the time so much, but in hindsight.

    Here is some of what I’ve learned about shame, denial, fear, and courage that I hope will help you:

    1. There was actually nothing wrong with me.

    Shame, fear, and denial stepped in because I thought there was. But there wasn’t.

    2. What was wrong was that I was basing my perception of myself on society’s perception of me.

    I was caught up in people-pleasing and perfectionism and trying to be someone I wasn’t. I had no idea how to handle my emotions, and no idea how my thoughts about myself and my emotions corresponded. This resulted in a long trip down to the bottom of the barrel, and a steady climb back up.

    3. There is something wrong with society’s perception of mental health issues.

    We change that one by one, by individuals understanding that society’s perception is the problem, and allowing ourselves to be honest about that. That is the truth, but it’s still a vulnerable statement, and becoming vulnerable is a journey.

    4. There is something wrong with continuing to seek the white picket fence and ignoring the grey in life.

    It’s not serving us well. We change that too by working toward transparency. Transparency is also vulnerable, and for me has been a work in progress.

    5. When we recognize that everyone has some kind of issue (it’s not just you), we gain courage.

    And trust me on this. Everyone has issues. Kind of like everyone has a belly button. When you come into this world, you get both.

    —

    Opening up and being transparent, whether to family or friends or online, is risking engaging with shame, denial, and fear. It’s risking deafening silence or unhelpful comments.

    It’s not always going to feel safe. It’s not always going to be safe. You should feel no pressure to do it if you haven’t had a chance to work through the stuff that you need to work through.

    But it is something to work toward, little by little. Because grey is a very pretty color, really. And the truth, although hard, is still the truth.

    And only the truth will bring us closer to love.

  • 20 Life Lessons I Learned In My Twenties

    20 Life Lessons I Learned In My Twenties

    Osha Key
    Photo: Osha Key

    “The Universe is not outside of you. Look inside yourself; everything that you want, you are already that.” ~Rumi

    I remember when I was a kid, “thirty years old” sounded very old and mature. “Someone who is thirty clearly knows everything about life and has it all figured out.” That was my assumption.

    Life taught me that not only thirty-year olds, but most people in general have no clue what they’re doing with their lives and why they’re here.

    Although I’m far away from knowing all the answers to life’s biggest questions, I feel like my twenties have been such a learning curve.

    I lived in eight different countries, changed careers, started my own business, transformed my body several times, met my soul mate, overcame major challenges, and it feels like I’ve become a completely different person.

    I recently turned thirty and it made me reflect on the last decade. Although it often seems like life doesn’t change much and every day is the same as the last, when I look back at my life it feels like I’ve traveled to a parallel universe.

    I’d love to share the life lessons I learned in my twenties.

    1. How other people judge us is none of our business. We won’t please everyone anyway.

    I spent my teen years and early twenties worrying about what other people thought and said about me. But later in life I realized that it could only affect me if I allowed it to.

    What other people say or think of us is a reflection of them—their values, expectations, insecurities, and standards—and has nothing or very little to do with us.

    People who are wise and/or know who we truly are will not judge us, as they see and know our essence. And those who don’t, we can’t control their thoughts and actions.

    2. Admitting mistakes and apologizing is a sign of strength, not weakness.

    I used to think that apologizing was a sign of weakness and used to play cool and ignore my mistakes. But now I think that the sign of weakness is being full of yourself, having a huge ego, and trying to pretend to be right, no matter what.

    When I noticed how much I respect people who admit they are wrong and apologize, I embraced this behavior myself. It feels liberating.

    3. No one is perfect; we’re all works in progress.

    People might seem like they have their lives together and live perfectly, especially if you judge them by their Instagram pictures. However, when you get to know people more intimately and they open up, you see that even the most successful and seemingly perfect people have insecurities and problems. Some of them have even more than you could ever imagine.

    My life, too, may seem perfect on the outside: I love what I do, travel a lot, live in the tropics, and have an amazing partner. But I still have plenty of challenges and ups and downs in my life—you just won’t find about them on my Instagram account.

    4. Living according to our values and truth is the most satisfying thing in life.

    Determining my main values in life (which are currently health, freedom, connection, and contribution) has put me on a journey to growth. It’s given me clarity and strength to make difficult decisions, like moving countries, ending relationships, and changing careers.

    No matter what you do, if you let your values and truth guide your decisions, it will turn out well, even though at times making these decisions might feel scary and make you feel vulnerable.

    5. Money is just a form of energy.

    I went through periods when I put too much importance on money, as well as times when I criticized money as not being spiritual. It turns out money is just a tool that enables us to do certain things, and it can even help us grow spiritually if we face our patterns or limiting beliefs.

    At the end of the day, money is just a form of energy. The more energy and value you give, the more it comes back (although there’s often a time gap between giving and getting).

    6. We’re not stuck in our reality, our identity, or our story.

    Our sense of self, or identity, is a conceptual fabrication. It’s nothing more than a summation of what everybody else—our parents, teachers, mentors, friends, and society—told us we were, and we accepted as truth.

    We can change instantly if we choose to, although most people unconsciously choose not to. The only thing that keeps us stuck is our own mind. Investing time and effort in mind training, aka meditation, has been one of the most valuable things I’ve done in my life.

    7. Outside circumstances are usually a reflection of our inside.

    Negativity could never affect us unless there was negativity inside of us in the first place.

    Anything that triggers us is a gift, as it points out the areas that we haven’t dealt with or things that are unhealed.

    8. Health is more important than appearances.

    I want to be in great shape because being healthy and fit improves the quality of my life, not because I need to look hot to impress others.

    Although I tried to convince myself that I shouldn’t care about what other people think of me, I still cared a lot—until I learned how to love myself and realized that all I ever needed was a genuine acceptance and appreciation from myself, not others.

    Once we know who we are and are confident about it, external approval becomes less and less important.

    9. Forgiveness is the key to freedom.

    We’re all going through life and doing the best we can with the resources and knowledge that we have at any given time. Let go of anger and grudges, and forgive others and yourself for being an imperfect human.

    10. I’m biased (and so are you) and I know it (and so should you).

    We’re all biased, and realizing that our perspective is neither better nor worse than someone else’s has been both scary and liberating. Letting go of the need to be right and understood has accelerated my growth and allowed me to see the world from many different perspectives.

    11. Loving-kindness moves mountains.

    Whenever I walk with loving-kindness, in my heart, the whole world smiles at me. I mean it literally, not just metaphorically.

    If the world seems like a sad, scary, or unfair place, practice loving-kindness and compassion, and you’ll see from a different perspective.

    12. Listening to our heart, even if it looks ridiculous from a logical perspective, will never fail us.

    All my best decisions in life didn’t make sense. From the outside perspective, I looked like a mad person when I made some of my choices. But there was this inner voice saying, “Even if you don’t know how exactly it’s going to turn out, all is going to be okay.”

    We all have this inner voice; we just need to remove the distractions that hinder us from hearing it, and most importantly, find the courage to listen to it and act on it.

    13. Plans are for adjusting.

    Nothing has ever turned out exactly how I planned. But I believe life always gives us what we ask for. It might not be in the exact form we ask for, though. If you ask for patience, you’ll get a queue in a bank. Life will give you people, opportunities, and circumstances to learn what you need to learn the most.

    14. If we want our relationships to succeed, we have to leave our ego behind.

    Relationships challenge us and facilitate growth. My romantic relationship taught me that trying to be right or holding your pride just doesn’t work if you want it to succeed.

    You have to see a relationship as one ship. If you try to fight and argue and win the “battle,” you’re trying to sink the ship you’re on, so it’s best to see the common goal and common good. This was very challenging in my early twenties but probably the best lesson I’ve learned in life.

    15. Connections are the key to happiness.

    We’re social beings and we long for connection.

    No matter how many cool and amazing things you have going on in your life, if you don’t have people to share it with, you won’t be as happy.

    Surround yourself with people who make you feel your best and recognize who you truly are.

    16. Comparing ourselves to others is the fastest way to feel anxious and unfulfilled.

    It takes practice and self-love to be able to celebrate others’ success, especially when things are not going the way you want to in your own life. But understanding that we’re all on our own journeys has helped me stop comparing myself to others and instead be inspired by others’ journeys and success.

    17. Learning and investing in our skills is the best strategy for future success.

    Physical things, money, even people in our life come and go. The knowledge and skills we’ve acquired is what we carry with us.

    18. Don’t take things personally.

    We suffer when we identify with things, people, circumstances, situations, job titles, and relationship statuses. Embracing the attitude that nothing belongs to us and “all just is” has been very liberating and has brought ease and joy to my life.

    19. Other people don’t always want our help.

    We have to stop forcing our beliefs or trying to help if our help is not welcome.

    I made this mistake way too many times in my early twenties. I was always passionate about helping people, but it took some time and bad experiences to realize that if someone’s not ready for your help, they will not accept it, and you might even do damage rather than service.

    20. Building healthy habits will pay off one hundredfold.

    When I was twenty, I used to smoke, drink alcohol, consume excess caffeine, and eat foods that were unhealthy for my body. And I was fine for a while. When you’re that young, your body can handle anything. But later your body starts tolerating these habits less and less, plus they add stress and your body starts to break down.

    Becoming healthy and changing my lifestyle has been one of the best things I’ve done in life. It gives me so much energy and I feel amazing every single day, thanks to a healthy lifestyle I lead.

    Chances are that on my fortieth birthday I’ll look at these lessons from my twenties and think that I had no clue about life whatsoever. That’s okay. The only constant is change, and humans are consistently inconsistent. I’m can’t wait to see what my thirties will teach me and what kind of person I’ll to become.

  • 6 Empowering Lessons Death Taught Me About Life

    6 Empowering Lessons Death Taught Me About Life

    “Death is not the greatest loss in life. The greatest loss in life is what dies inside us while we live” ~Norman Cousins

    I am not dead and I am not dying, so you may wonder why I write that death has taught me what I need to know about life.

    I lost my mother when I was fifteen. Being a teenager, thoughts of anyone close to me dying had not entered my head. My mother had a brief illness and passed away unexpectedly at age forty-seven.

    I remember that my schoolmates came to see me, and I kept thinking that they had their moms. More than being sad that I had lost my mom, I was angry that I had been placed in that position. I missed my mom a lot and just wanted her to come back and be with me.

    I started developing a fear that my father would die soon too. When I was in my early thirties, my fears came true when my dad passed away suddenly after a heart attack. He was a skilled physician, a kind man, and more importantly, a wonderful father to me.

    As if my dad’s passing away was not enough, my older sister died unexpectedly a year later. I always considered her a strong person, and I could not fathom how she could have died.

    To add insult to injury, another sister of mine passed away soon after that.

    By then, I had decided that the Universe was conspiring against me. I did not think anyone cared, and I put on an act, pretending to be happy. The truth was that I was buried under the rubble of my fearful thoughts, and constantly worried that something would go wrong.

    The next couple of years passed by with various family mishaps till one day, I lost the prestigious job I had.

    You may wonder why I classify a job loss in the same category as death, as a job is not irreplaceable. To me, at that point in my life, the job loss had the same feeling of injustice that the death of my parents and siblings so early in my life had for me.

    One of my friends suggested that I read books about having positive thoughts. I googled “positive” and started to devour self-help books. I subscribed to Tiny Buddha and spent time meditating.

    I reflected on what I read while drinking coffee in the quiet stillness of the early morning hours.

    I meditated while on the treadmill, and I realized that the answers to my questions had always been within me. I had just let the unannounced and uninvited negative thoughts I had to overshadow the shackled positive thoughts within me, yearning for a release.

    I realized that I was not singled out for anything bad, as I also had a lot of blessings to be thankful for. I had just chosen to not focus on the good in my life. I knew then that I am a survivor. I would like to share my lessons, which I hope will help you face loss of any kind that devastates you.

    1. There is a survivor in each one of us.

    If you have survived even one moment after a tragedy, you are a survivor.

    Yes, there is a sense of utter hopelessness and despair at first, soon after a loss; but every passing moment shows that you can and you will live this life you have been given.

    It proves that you are strong; it proves that you are not a quitter; and above all else, it proves that even if you never forget who or what you have lost, you will not run away from living life.

    After all, life is not about living in defeat.

    2. There is always something that is going right in a person’s life.

    Even in the midst of a tornado of unforeseen circumstances, and all the despair it brings in its wake, there is always something to appreciate in life.

    Even though I lost my parents and sisters, I still had wonderful friends in my life.

    We need to focus on the good in our life and try to be happy. Being sad and focusing on what we do not have does not change the circumstances.

    You can either make a list of what you have, or you can make a list of what you do not have. The first list will bring you peace and happiness, while the second list will bring you only sadness.

    You may have a lot of things that make you unhappy, but if you have even one thing going well, you have to focus on that. I have found that the more I consider the good in my life, the more things seem to come together for me.

    3. Do not take the people you love for granted.

    If you are lucky enough to have loved ones in your life, call them often. Visit them often. Share your life with the people who love you.

    What can be more important than the people you care about, who care about you?

    No one is guaranteed to live a hundred years, and even a hundred years can pass all too fast.

    4. Let go of expectations that events in life need to happen in a certain manner that you favor.

    Life happens, and it may or may not turn out as you hoped it would. You just have to work with what you have. A lot of times, you may be surprised to find that you end up liking what you get.

    Even if you are disappointed that you did not get what you expected, and even if you are upset that you do not have what you want, it is still possible to lead a good life if you can let go of your expectations and find reasons to be happy with what you have.

    Life becomes a lot better when you learn to accept it.

    5. It is not your fault that bad things beyond your control happen.

    Blaming yourself will take you down a long and lonely road with no end in sight. Guilt is a hard taskmaster with no mercy.

    Even the most meticulously thought out life will have unforeseen hardships disrupting the plans.

    You could not have changed the circumstances surrounding the loss. You could not have prevented it in any way.

    Sadly, death happens and life still goes on. When my mother died, it was the day before the Festival of Lights, and all my neighbors were enjoying firecrackers outside in their garden. Life went on. When my father died, life went on. When my sisters died, life carried on.

    I used to wonder where God was till I realized that God is the strength and energy that pulled me through all of these circumstances.

    6. Be open to miracles.

    As long as you are living, something wonderful could happen at any moment. Life may have lows that you never expected and that you did not foresee, but it also will have highs that you never dreamed of that will bring you joy beyond your wildest imagination.

    The Universe does not owe you anything, so be grateful for any blessings that you have. Do not let anything slip away.

    No matter what happens, try to enjoy the life you have. No one else can enjoy it for you.

  • How to Defeat Your Insecurities and Tell Someone You Love Them

    How to Defeat Your Insecurities and Tell Someone You Love Them

    Couple in love

    “Our own ego judges us, so we become afraid of self-awareness. If it’s not puffing us up to look better than others, it’s tearing us down—anything to block us from feeling at one with reality and who we are.” ~Beth Maynard Green

    Have you ever had insecurities stand in your way?

    Have you ever felt afraid to tell someone how you feel?

    Have you ever felt like someone could never love you the same way you love them?

    We all have insecurities that hold us back in our professional life, our social life, and most of all, our love life. This is something I’ve struggled with a lot.

    As someone with a serious physical disability who is basically a quadriplegic, I have often told myself I am not complete.

    I’ve told myself I’m not enough, that I’m not good enough or strong enough. I’ve told myself that other people are not interested in knowing me or that they have already made all sorts of judgments about me.

    Through my self-criticism, I’m actually imposing my self-image on other people, assuming they see me the same way I see myself. That way, I have an excuse to refrain from being vulnerable because I already made their minds up for them. I don’t have to open myself up and see what they actually think. I have an excuse not to take chances.

    So, in a twisted sort of way, I’m actually feeding my ego while also “protecting” it from any actual feedback that I could learn from. Also, I’m missing out on the possibility that I could reach out and make a meaningful connection because maybe my self-criticism is off base.

    How Insecurities Blocked Me From Telling Someone How I Truly Felt

    I remember struggling with insecurity when I met a girl in college. She was beautiful and talkative, and I was an attentive listener. She liked to tell stories, and I loved to listen to her slightly British-sounding Caribbean accent.

    She was energetic and outgoing while I was more laid back and introverted. Our temperaments complemented one another. We hit it off right away.

    I really liked her, and I felt like she might like me too, but my insecurities kept getting in the way. In my mind, she could never like me the way I liked her.

    We spoke on the phone late into the night and spent every moment we could together. But we were just friends.

    So I talked around the issue. I poked at it from one direction and prodded at it from the other. I did everything I could to avoid being the first to say something really dangerous, to avoid showing my true feelings.

    My subtlety was without compare; my hints were so obscure that even I wasn’t sure what I was talking about. She never suspected a thing.

    Eventually, my ego got tired of protecting me from the terrible fate it knew would result. I decided to try something different.

    I got up the courage to let her know how I felt about her, and she reciprocated. The feeling was unbelievable. She was my first and only real girlfriend.

    From then on, the world would feel like a profoundly altered place. For the last twenty years, she’s been a constant reminder that my ego has no idea what it’s talking about!

    How to Find the Courage to Tell Someone You Love Them

    As someone with a physical disability that leaves me dependent on others, I’m no stranger to insecurity. I’ve told myself all sorts of stories about how unworthy I am.

    If I can find my way past negative self-talk, anyone can. Allow me to share some ideas that helped me along the way.

    1. Break up with your ego.

    Often, when we accuse someone of having a big ego, we mean that they are overly confident. But sometimes we can be overly confident about what we think reality actually is.

    I took a while to learn this, and I’m still learning this every day, but the ego is a double-edged sword. It can make you feel great about yourself, and also terrible.

    What the ego loves to do is tell stories about reality; it likes to believe that it has everything figured out.

    We think we know exactly where we stand, exactly the way it is that people perceive us. Sometimes it’s easier to “know” we will fail than it is to actually try and risk embarrassment.

    It’s time to challenge our assumptions and burst the ego’s bubble.

    2. Stop playing telepath.

    When we attribute thoughts or motives to others, this is often just based on our own insecurities. This mental chatter can even be randomness. Thousands of thoughts go through our heads throughout the day, many of which we ignore as inconsequential or even nonsensical.

    You’re doing yourself and the other person a disservice by trying to read their thoughts through a cloud of your own insecurity.

    I did this a lot with her facial expressions and intonation. I was reading her all over the board, convincing myself that she was everything from madly in love with me to pitying me and using me as a charity case.

    This sort of thing can drive you crazy, and at some point, I knew I had to stop because it was destroying my ability to be genuine. If I’m not being myself, pursuing a real relationship with anyone, let alone someone I have real feelings for, is pointless.

    3. Leave your mind; enter the moment.

    When you want to tell someone you love them, you want to feel fully in tune with them. If for some reason you decide that the other person doesn’t feel the same way, you want that decision to be based on that person’s actual behavior, not some random doubt on your behalf.

    As an introverted person, my ability to project my own insecurities on the world is strong. I have to make a conscious effort to focus on what is actually happening in the interaction. 

    This can sometimes be done with a mini mindfulness exercise. Just focus on the sights, smells, and sounds in your immediate vicinity. Most importantly, focus on the other person and what they’re saying, not what you’re saying to yourself in your head.

    4. Let your heart speak; let your ego be vulnerable.

    Keep it real, but accept there are no guarantees. If you’re nervous, show it, or even say it. If you’re not sure how to say how you feel, it’s okay to say so and take a moment to figure it out.

    If you’ve known this person long enough to feel like you’re ready to share intimate feelings, they probably like you enough to allow you the time to gather your thoughts. If not, this probably isn’t the time to broach the subject.

    In my case, I can remember stumbling over several different versions of what I wanted to say before settling on one that seemed appropriate. It’s been a long time, so I don’t remember exactly what I said, but the words will be different for everyone, and, honestly, they don’t matter so much as the authenticity of the feelings behind them.

    5. Remember, no matter what, you will be okay.

    When it comes to love, we often stop ourselves because we fear the consequences we’ve dreamed up. “What if I ask someone on a date and they say no?” But the truth is that, whatever the consequences, we have the capacity to move on.

    Living your life in fear is far worse, never knowing how it feels to take a risk on love.

    When you accept the idea that you will be okay despite any social consequences, you will act with far more freedom — which is invaluable in areas even beyond romance. Because fear of social consequences can cripple us in so many different ways, from making friends to career advancement.

    If I Can Do It, I Know You Can

    I know you’re thinking that you don’t have the courage to tell that special person what you’re truly feeling, but I believe in you. If I can do it, I know anyone can.

    See yourself taking that first step and feeling the relief of being open and honest for the first time. Envision the smiling face of that other person in response to the heartfelt words you’ve shared.

    Picture the newfound confidence you’ll feel because you were rewarded for your bravery and authenticity. Imagine the new life that is ahead of you, a life shared with someone you care about.

    This reality could await you if you would just abandon your self-criticism and the insecurity, and open yourself up to true possibility.

    You’re probably telling yourself that this sounds unlikely. I know this because I’ve told myself the same thing, but I know from experience that the negative self-talk is a lie more often than not.

    Take the first step, and follow the principles I outlined above.

    A beautiful new romance is waiting for you.

  • Coping with Anxiety When People Aren’t There for You

    Coping with Anxiety When People Aren’t There for You

    Sad girl

    “People aren’t always going to be there for you. That’s why you need to learn to handle things on your own.” ~Unknown

    Anxiety is a box around your mind. It’s the cage in which your deepest worries start to pace, then walk, and gain momentum until they’re out of control.

    Once these worries and scenarios take off and hit the walls of this box, they’re trapped, and tension starts building.

    It can be an exhausting cycle of stress that you might think you have to face alone if you want to avoid opening yourself up to pity or rejection.

    You may think others will judge or stereotype you if they know about your struggle. Or, you might worry that if they do know, they’ll assume you’re either looking for attention or not doing enough to function like everyone else.

    Here’s the kicker: You don’t have to function like everyone else. When you struggle with anxiety, just functioning is something to be proud of.

    The absence of another’s approval or input when progressing can make you feel like you’re not making improvement at all. It’s hard to pull yourself out of an anxiety attack or downturn of emotions, and it can feel lonely when you think you can’t call on anyone, but there are times when self-reliance is your only option.

    Yes, this may happen. It happened to me, and it was my worst-case scenario realized.

    I lost people who I called on too many times for help, and I know I frustrated people by making unhealthy choices solely because I was anxious about the alternative options.

    I felt like a burden on the very people I would help in any way I could, if the situation were reversed.

    Relating to friends became a game of how normal I could act. It’s an extremely difficult way to live.

    Although it can be helpful to open up to someone who can support you, sometimes you need to admit to yourself that, in this moment, you must do it alone.

    Here are a few things that have helped me cope with my anxiety and the disappointments in my relationships.

    1. Recognize that some people won’t be able to be there for you.

    I started out the summer in a close group of my four best friends and ended it with a completely new social group and a long drive to a different country.

    It’s not easy to let go of friends you thought were going to be in your life forever, but it’s often necessary.

    Knowing when to separate is something I struggle with. I constantly think of what I could still have in my life if I had made different choices. But I know I made the right decision for myself. The best friends I look to now understand my struggles and uplift me instead of bringing me down.

    When you grow, the people you surround yourself with may change, but this is the best part of the process. As you meet new people and gain new interests, you’ll find individuals that you’ll connect with on a deeper level than you would simply based on who was in close proximity.

    Allow people to have a temporary presence in your life, and stop weighing yourself down with worry about whether that’s the right choice.

    Trying to maintain relationships that are exhausting or stressful, just because you don’t want to be lonely, will prevent you from finding relationships that provide the support you need.

    2. Forgive yourself.

    Often. Until you’re sure you’ve forgiven every mistake you’ve made and will make in this learning process.

    I often ruminate on possible mistakes I made until they become these catastrophically negative ideas about how others may see me.

    Learning to let go of the past and forgive all of these small slips has had a huge impact on how I am able to deal with daily anxiety. There’s enormous power in realizing that all of these small worries really are just that—small—and very few have an impact on the big picture of your life.

    There are many things I exaggerated in my mind through the past year that I realize, as I regretfully look back, weren’t worth the time I lost being happy.

    Yes, I made mistakes.

    I did things to follow the crowd and swallowed my opinions because I felt too anxious to speak my mind. I held my feelings inside because I worried about upsetting people, and as a result, jeopardized relationships with my family. I jeopardized my health for a few party nights. I called in sick to work because I couldn’t imagine working in such an anxious state.

    I forgave myself for it all.

    Forgiving myself isn’t a way to shirk responsibility for the apologies I should give, but when you’re on your own journey, you can’t depend on others to give you the absolution you’re seeking.

    If you give yourself love, compassion, forgiveness, and support, it will be easier to cope when others don’t offer you these things.

    3. Practice gratitude.

    “Interrupt anxiety with gratitude.”

    This quote has helped me more than any counselor or antidepressant has in the past.

    Anxiety causes the scenarios in my mind to become disaster scenes within moments. I might be thinking about an interview or an event I have to attend, or even simply a friend I have to meet, and instantaneously become worried sick about what could go wrong.

    Once again, starting small helped me work through my daily anxiety without another’s support.

    It really is about the little things in life.

    At first, I was grateful for the fact that the tap water I used to wash my hands wasn’t freezing cold on a winter day. I was grateful for my tea still being hot when I got to school. I was grateful that my hair wasn’t frizzy.

    But soon, it grew into more than that. It became “I’m grateful I have an interview to go to because it’s the possibility of a job.” It was “I’m grateful that I have an event to go to because it means people want me to be there,” and, “I’m glad I have to meet this person because I enjoy their mindset.”

    It healed “I’m worried you don’t love me” into “I’m so grateful that you are in my life.”

    Gratitude for the present moment allows anxiety to fall to the wayside. You choose to honor the positive possibilities rather than obsess over the chance of a negative outcome.

    —

    Through all of the trials anxiety will put you through, remember that your journey is your own. Yes, it’s helpful to have support, and we all deserve it. But you can choose to help yourself whether others do or not. So do it. Function. Happily. Independently. And confidently on your own terms.

  • 5 Ways to Show Your Love to Others (and Yourself)

    5 Ways to Show Your Love to Others (and Yourself)

    “Love isn’t everything. It’s the only thing.” ~Steven Hayes

    Things go wrong in life. Distress and confusion can take root, sometimes leading to harsh self-criticism, depression, or anxiety.

    We sense that love heals, and it does.

    I once visited an orphanage for abandoned infants, and every toddler who I carried clung tightly to me. I can still feel their little arms clasping me desperately.

    We crave love as we crave oxygen.

    But what is love?

    Is it something you wait for?

    What if love is more than a feeling?

    What if your choices and actions can bring the spirit of love to life?

    Love has many shades and nuances. Here are some forms of love that you can start creating today.

    Love as patience

    I used to be obsessed with outcomes. A perfectionist intolerant of failure, I was constantly trying to prove my worth. This made me unpleasant to others, and to myself.

    One day our little son was running around noisily while I tried to concentrate. Irritated, I put an arm out and he crashed into it. He started crying, and I felt deep shame.

    I resolved to change. I’d been sacrificing what made life worth living: relationships, health, talents, and even family happiness. I’d been neglecting everything and everyone, including myself, in my headlong rush toward outcomes and goals.

    What’s the alternative to focusing on outcomes and neglecting others? Patience. Patience expresses love by treating every individual as priceless, not just an aid or obstacle to some goal.

    Patience embraces more than outcomes. It empowers you to enjoy the journey of life instead of disregarding what makes your life worth living as you rush toward your latest destination. It attracts friends for the journey, improving work, play, and all of life.

    Patience with your own mistakes gives you a chance to heal and learn. Mistakes are not seen as confirmation of worthlessness.

    Importantly, patience allows you to be more fully present in the moment. That’s great for your relationships, your well-being, and your brain, according to scientific research. A more patient life reduces the sense of being overwhelmed or confused.

    Patience brings love to life and makes all aspects of life go better.

    Love as kindness

    When my father fell seriously ill, I needed an airline ticket urgently. He’d been in perfect health and wasn’t very old. I was desperate to reach him quickly.

    I picked up the phone. The first lady I spoke to made it her personal mission to get me there.

    “Get to the airport as quickly as you can,” she said.

    I was put on a plane within hours. I reached his bedside, held his hand, and sang to him softly. He died hours later.

    I’ll never forget that lady’s kindness.

    Even less dramatic acts of kindness can powerfully express love, such as listening to someone who needs a sympathetic ear.

    A swiftly flowing river can have a calm surface, even as it grinds the rough edges off rocks. Kindness is like that. It calmly smooths out the rough patches in life and helps lubricate friction between people.

    In the heat of an argument, kindness can heal with the “soft answer that turns away wrath,” as the proverb reads. Once the temperature is lowered, it’s easier to explore sensible solutions.

    Even if everything goes wrong in life, you can still express kindness to yourself and others. You remain powerful as a source of love. Kindness displaces rudeness, harsh self-criticism, anger, and resentment.

    Cultivate more kindness, to yourself and others, and experience how the darker parts of life become illuminated by love.

    Love as delight in others’ successes

    When I measured success in dollars, I often grew envious of others. Why did someone else have more money, a nicer house, more stuff, better looks, more exotic vacations, a happier family, and healthier parents? I became a restless comparer.

    Once I cultivated a stronger sense of my uniqueness and worth, I started appreciating other people’s success. Each of us was on our unique path, and it would be nice if we all enjoyed the journey.

    Love as delight in others’ successes attracts friends. It breeds joy.

    Long ago, I visited an elderly uncle for my vacation. News arrived that I’d passed a university exam. He bought firecrackers and set them off in celebration, even though he’d never been to university.

    I was embarrassed by the noisy fuss, which alerted the neighbors, but it opened my eyes to how very much he loved me.

    Try developing a stronger sense of your uniqueness and core values, and you’ll more easily celebrate others’ successes. The bitterness of envy will gradually give way to more peace of mind and warmer relationships.

    Love as humility

    I once saw an orchestra and chorus perform Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony. It was awesome, with hundreds of musicians performing as one. But the human body has trillions of cells working in harmony.

    It took billions of years and gazillions of molecules for the first human being to emerge. Yet we often have greater awe for the trinkets and baubles that a human being possesses than for the person.

    Instead of being grateful for eyes, liver, brain, and other miracles of biology, we feel entitled to all that and more. A sense of entitlement suppresses our gratitude.

    Further, if I boast about having a bigger house than someone else, then I imply that I’m inferior to someone with an even bigger house. It’s the same for any of my boasts. But the emergence of human beings is so awe-inspiring that appearance, fashion, houses, cars, and other stuff all pale by comparison.

    Boasting can temporarily quell my insecurity, but it still brings me one step nearer to feeling inadequate. It’s as if I’m ashamed of my unadorned self. Boasting also tends to repel others.

    For years, I would gloss over my faults because I felt insecure and needed to maintain a veneer of perfection. Now I’m quicker to admit my faults, seeing myself as a life-long learner. I’m also slower to judge others and quicker to forgive, since we’re all imperfect and still learning.

    Love as humility implies deep respect for the intrinsic worth of every human being. Deep respect for every individual, regardless of their status, helps banish feelings of inadequacy, encourages forgiveness, reduces a feeling of entitlement, and boosts gratitude.

    Humility brings love to life.

    Love as empathy

    We would incubate eggs and hatch tiny chicks at home. Our little daughter adopted one. This chicken would run and jump into her arms.

    Our daughter once tried to feed her chicken some bread. The chicken choked, and died within minutes.

    We comforted her, reminding her that she didn’t knowingly do harm, and that we understood her feelings of grief and guilt. We held a funeral ceremony, lovingly burying the chicken in the garden. Love, as empathizing, can bring comfort to a relationship or home.

    Stepping into the shoes of another is the powerful first step to serving them. This is true of customers too. Love, as empathizing and service, is at the heart of successful businesses.

    I know a middle-aged executive in a tech company who spends most of her time in an office. When asked what she does, she says she helps people to enjoy life more. She’s referring to the software which her company markets.

    Empathy can transform your work. Instead of being just a wage slave, you can express love through empathizing with, and serving, your company’s customers.

    Empathizing brings love to life. Even some otherwise boring chores, at work or at home, can light up with meaning.

    —

    Love isn’t just something that happens to you. You can cultivate love, especially the five forms described above, starting today. In doing so, you’ll open the door to calmer acceptance of yourself, of others, and of life’s inevitable disappointments.

    You’ll also be able to enjoy the journey of life, in the company of friends, with more gratitude and forgiveness.

    Create more love today, and start experiencing the difference.

  • How to Move from Grief to Relief After Losing a Loved One

    How to Move from Grief to Relief After Losing a Loved One

    Man at the cemetary

    “When a person is born we rejoice, and when they’re married we jubilate, but when they die we try to pretend nothing has happened.” ~Margaret Mead

    It was five years ago this month that my father passed away from cancer. About four months before his death, his oncologist gave him a bleak diagnosis, telling him to get his affairs in order because he could die at any time.

    Our entire family was dumbstruck. Here was a man who appeared to be strong and generally healthy.

    He was a youthful sixty-eight years old. Just months into his retirement after a long and impactful career in social work, this was my dad’s time to enjoy the pleasures of post-retirement life, not brace for a devastatingly premature death.

    Summoning every bit of optimism resident in my being, I refused to accept he would fall to cancer.

    I knew the power of a healthy diet, exercise, and other holistic modalities in extending the longevity of cancer patients. I would do whatever it took for my father to survive.

    I spent hundreds at Whole Foods in a single visit, buying up the most potent anti-cancer foods and supplements.

    I researched every type of cancer therapy under the sun.

    I encouraged my father to modify his diet, follow a juicing regimen, and consult with credible and proven holistic healers of every stripe.

    Despite my best efforts, I had hit a wall. Sure, my father expressed appreciation for my care and concern, but he held no desire to change his lifestyle or pursue any alternative therapies.

    Pursuing these things might have helped reverse his illness; or they might have done very little. What was certain is that he had resigned himself to the notion that death was upon him.

    And so for months my family and I were left to watch the vitality of a man we held so dear steadily drain away. Adding to the horror of the situation were the rounds of chemotherapy my father underwent at the recommendation of his physician, who claimed it would alleviate his suffering.

    To my untrained eye, the chemotherapy succeeded only in withering my dad’s physical vessel down to an ashen shell of what it once was.

    But I made sure to hold it together.

    I don’t believe I cried more than a few times in the months leading up to my dad’s passing. I simply didn’t allow myself to feel the cascade of negative emotions churning below the surface.

    I had to be practical, I thought, so that I could support my mother and the rest of my family during an extremely challenging time. I had to power through it.

    And steady I remained, right up until my dad took his last breath in the hospice facility on that warm spring afternoon.

    The bewildering mix of grief, pain, shock, and relief in the wake of losing a loved one who has been suffering profoundly will touch everyone differently. I wept mightily that evening. Surrounded by family and friends, I felt able to emote and let the tears flow, at least for a day. What a relief.

    My willingness to acknowledge my pain quickly changed, however. The long list of responsibilities that fell on my mother in the immediate aftermath of my father’s death were formidable.

    I made it my priority to do whatever I could to unburden her and once again, I chose to prioritize fulfilling obligations over feelings my feelings.

    I made it through the funeral, the flood of calls and the many financial, legal, and practical considerations that accompany the death of a relative. I helped pick up the pieces. But as the months wore on I continued to deny myself the opportunity to process the emotional impact of losing my dad.

    I wasn’t in denial about my father dying, I was in denial about the way I felt about it.

    Feeling for Answers

    Two years later I found myself in the office of a friend who happens to be a fellow hypnotherapist. I confided in her that, for more than a year, I had been struggling with a strange case of debilitating chronic stomach pain. She offered to help me unearth subconscious patterns that might have been contributing to the pain.

    During my session, I came to discover that the stomach issue I was experiencing was directly linked to unexpressed grief and shame around my father’s passing.

    I discovered that not only did I fail to move through the grief of the event, but part of me felt deeply guilty about letting my dad slip away when I believed I could have saved him. With my friend’s help, I was guided to release the underlying emotional discord feeding my physical ailment. The pain vanished overnight and never returned.

    It was eye-opening. Though I intellectually knew there existed a profound connection between our emotional states and physical health, it was still hard to believe that my months of acute discomfort were the manifestation of bottled up emotion. I had learned a big lesson.

    Open Up to Your Pain

    From an early age we are conditioned to ignore our negative emotions. This is especially the case when we endure difficult circumstances, such as family sickness and death. We choose to push away our feelings in order to “just get through it.”

    The trouble is that in suppressing our emotions we’re not getting through anything, but rather forcing these emotional patterns deep into the recesses of the subconscious mind. This unexpressed pain that brews below the surface is at the root of much of our anxiety and many types of illness.

    When it comes to any sort of emotional pain, it’s crucial for us to understand that negative feelings serve us. They are wonderful indicators of the truth of our being and show us what is wanted and unwanted. But we don’t have to hang on to the anger, sadness, and powerlessness forever.

    We transcend our negative emotions by being present with them. Being tuned into the truth of your feelings doesn’t mean you will be a trainwreck and incapable of dealing with the real world; it actually sets you on the path of wholeness and peace.

    We strive to put on a front so that the world sees us as kind, capable, and strong. This often means that we denying our emotional pain. It takes great courage to admit to our vulnerabilities and embrace our authentic feelings, but it is a required stop on the way to freedom and relief.

    I challenge you to pick something in your life that you’ve been holding back from feeling and choose to express your pain in a safe and conscious way. Pull down the facades and give yourself permission to not be okay. It’s time to free yourself.

  • Abuse Isn’t Always Physical, and We Never Deserve It

    Abuse Isn’t Always Physical, and We Never Deserve It

    “A bad relationship is like standing on broken glass. If you stay, you will keep hurting. If you walk away, you will hurt but you will heal.” ~Autumn Kohler

    It happens little by little, bit by bit. So very slowly that before you know it, you can’t recognize the person you lie next to at night and you hate the person you see staring back at you in the mirror.

    Who is that person?

    Where is the strong, capable, unflappable, and carefree person that you once were? When did you become someone so pathetic, so small and malleable?

    I have never been the kind of girl who accepts bad behavior, let alone anything verging on abuse.

    I believe in good manners, in kindness, in treating others as you wish to be treated. I also believe absolutely in apologizing when I get it wrong.

    I don’t let my two little people get away with being rude, cheeky, or back-chatting a grown-up. So why did I let him treat me so appallingly? Why didn’t I stand up to him? Why didn’t I get out?

    I have always left, you see. With all the significant relationships I’ve been in, I have always ended it.

    I have always made that call. I’ve always run away when I couldn’t do it anymore, or cut my losses before I could get hurt.

    I ended my engagement to my ex mere months before the “big day.” I called time on my first marriage, seven years after saying “I do,” when three straight years of trying hard to fix it had failed.

    So why didn’t I leave him?

    People think domestic violence has to involve fists, bruises, and physical pain. Well, I can now put my hand up and admit that I was abused—but he never laid a finger on me. It doesn’t make it any less painful or significant or wrong.

    I am beginning to get comfortable owning what happened to me, but its effects have lasting consequences that I am aware of almost daily.

    The more time I spend analyzing what he did, and his potential motivations, the less I feel I understand what our relationship was about, and the more blatant the abuse appears.

    He controlled, manipulated, and systematically ignored me.

    I wasn’t allowed answer the door to other men if my husband wasn’t in the house, nor was I allowed to speak to other men at the pool where we trained.

    He loved my little skirts and dresses while he was wooing me, but as soon as he had me it was always, “I hope you’ve got appropriate knickers on wearing that” or, “you will keep your legs closed if you go out wearing that.”

    When he thought I had overstepped some invisible, unfathomable, and constantly shifting line, he could look me straight in the eye and yet completely ignore me for three straight days, without skipping a beat.

    Not a word would leave his mouth. For days on end. And for a girl who can talk the hind legs off a donkey, that is pretty much the worst kind of torture imaginable. I was invisible. I was nothing.

    But it happens gradually, remember.

    In the beginning, he built me up and showered me with words of love and affection. He placed me on a pedestal and worshipped me. I had never felt so precious to anyone before.

    He made himself the very center of my universe, and made himself so large that he obliterated everyone and everything else. Little by little, increment by increment, my universe became so very small, and by degrees I became myopic, a mere shadow of the woman I once was.

    In some ways, the hardest thing for me now is coming to terms with the fact that I didn’t have the nerve to get out.

    I had irrationally made the decision to stay because I truly felt that it was the only choice I had.

    I think I justify it by saying that it was the only thing I could do—for the sake of my children. They had already been through so much; I couldn’t damage them further.

    And anyway, his behavior was only directed at me. Once he had me controlled, managed, and living in fear, it was was only ever about me; I perceived that my children were safe from any form of direct threat.

    The decision to get out, to get free and safe, wasn’t a decision I ever had to make, or got the chance to make. By some weird twist in the way the universe works, I received the ultimate “get out of jail free” card. The abusive monster of a man to whom I had given three years of my life died.

    He died suddenly and shockingly, and in doing so simultaneously set me free and inflicted his biggest, most significant controlling act.

    Now, almost exactly one year later, I still feel immense and overwhelming relief that I am out of that place; that like a caterpillar trapped, bound and confined, I have been able to break free and spread my beautiful wings.

    But I still feel some misplaced sense of shame that I didn’t get to make that call. That I didn’t put my big girl brave pants on and make that decision first, and for me.

    Being in that relationship is, without question, the biggest and worst regret of my life, one that I will carry to my grave.

    I wanted to write this for all the people who feel trapped, who feel like a watered down impression of the person they once were. For the people who don’t feel able to speak out and ask for help.

    I know how that feels.

    I know the shame and embarrassment that keeps your lips sealed, even around those who you trust and love the most.

    Just because there are no physical marks doesn’t mean it isn’t abuse.

    When you question yourself and you try to tell yourself that it’s really not that bad, that he or she loves you, really, but has just got a few issues to deal with, or worse still, that it’s your fault he or she treats you this way, trust your gut.

    If they continually put you down, shut you out in an attempt to manipulate and control you, ignore your needs, threaten you in any way, call you “crazy” or “overly sensitive” when you dare to raise your worries, and/or blames you for their reactions, that is not love. It is abuse.

    It’s easier somehow to make excuses, accept the blame (you will even start to believe it), but know that you could end up spending the rest of your days in an a broken and painful place—a relationship where you feel small, worthless, and lonely beyond words.

    Somewhere in your gut, you likely know this is true.

    Whether your inner voice is yelling at you, or just whispering to get out, you know. You know it’s not right and that you deserve so much more. You deserve to have the chance for your wings to be set free.

    And I pray that you do.

  • Breaking Free from Manipulative, Narcissistic Parents

    Breaking Free from Manipulative, Narcissistic Parents

    “Authenticity is the daily practice of letting go of who we think we’re supposed to be and embracing who we are.” ~Brené Brown

    I happened to catch the last scene of the movie Moonstruck on TV a few nights ago. The scene marks the happy resolution of various plot threads, and yet I felt as if I was witnessing the sinking of the Titanic.

    It was like watching a demonstration of what I have come to understand as the two ways of being in this world: dominating vs. accepting, narcissism or bullying vs. kindness.

    Having come from a narcissistic family myself, it felt as if the movie was peering straight into my soul.

    In the movie, Loretta Castorini is engaged to Johnny Cammareri, an aging mama’s boy who never married, out of ‘consideration’ for his ailing mother in Sicily.

    In this scene, he bursts in, announcing that he can’t marry Loretta because it would kill his mother, and asks for his engagement ring back. In the next moment, Johnny’s brother, Ronny, promptly proposes to Loretta, borrowing Johnny’s ring to seal the deal.

    The movie centers on Ronny and Loretta, yet seeing the last scene isolated from the rest of the movie drew me to Johnny’s experience.

    There he was, controlled by his mother long-distance from Sicily, giving up his marriage in deference to his mother’s script about who he needed to be in order to support her needs.

    The confusion on Johnny’s face as his brother claims the prize of Loretta’s hand in marriage is heartbreaking. Johnny isn’t quite sure what is happening, and yet he dare not question his mother’s love, nor break free of his supporting role in his mother’s drama.

    His life has been spent, and, unless he wakes up, will continue to be spent, in service to her, at a great cost to him.

    I see myself in Johnny. I was well into middle age before I was able to break free of my father’s domination of my life, and I suspect that, like me, many people delay the beginning of their own lives out of misplaced fealty to the stories their parents scripted for them.

    For years, whether rebelling against my dad’s criticisms or craving approval from outside myself, I had, on a deep level, ceded the central role in my life to my dad.

    Whether we were close or miles apart, communicating or no contact, he was the sun, and I was orbiting his solar system. This is exactly how he wanted it, and I fell into place within the structures and systems of his universe.

    There is so much truth in humor. Johnny’s mother’s threats are played for laughs, and yet they are more than mere melodramatic manipulation.

    An acquaintance of mine energetically supported her narcissistic mother for decades. When she became aware of the family dynamic, she chose to withdraw her energetic support of her mother, and for the first time in her life, focus on herself as an individual.

    The potentially intimidating part is that her mother actually became ill.

    This is not to imply that my acquaintance should have continued to support her mother, it is simply to say that the energetic connection is real, and removing it, as necessary as it may be, is like removing a crutch someone has grown dependent upon.

    It sparks an enormous upheaval and rebalancing for both parties, and yet it must be done in order to achieve greater health and freedom on both sides.

    The saddest part for children of narcissistic parents, and also for partners of narcissists, is losing confidence in our own authentic feelings, hopes, and dreams. The narcissist’s insistence upon pretense, and the demand to suppress authentic experience can be very painful.

    The younger brother, Ronny, was lucky to have been the black sheep of the family; at least he was distanced from his mother’s demands. Nonetheless, he, too, was damaged.

    When we first encounter him in the basement of his bakery, he looks like a hurt animal hiding in his lair. He has a wooden prosthetic hand, as Loretta says, “like a wolf that has chewed off his own paw to escape a trap.”

    To narcissistic parents, a child is not a full-fledged individual, but rather a character in their story, and the roles they offer their offspring are severely limited.

    Whether a “golden child” who can do no wrong, or the “failure” who can do no right, in either role the child will feel that he must perform in order to try to keep or win the parent’s love.

    This is not love at all, but rather a form of abuse, which is worse for being invisible to all but those directly involved. The child is asked to give up her own feelings, thoughts, and needs in order to support the parents’ version of reality.

    The child, meanwhile, resists facing the direness of the situation—the truth of a manipulative or even an unloving parent—for she intuits that she needs her parents’ love in order to survive.

    At the same time, she may feel excruciatingly uncomfortable living inside the parents’ stories. Like Johnny, she may end up not knowing who she really is and what she really wants, having given up her own thoughts, emotions, and needs for so long.

    In the movie, neither brother escapes unscathed: Johnny, the golden child, was hobbled, tied to his mother’s apron strings, and Ronny, the black sheep, was also wounded and cut off from the rest of humanity.

    Like so many rebels among us, Ronny finds solace in the arts, in his case, opera. As a child, my passion for dance sustained me. It was an outlet for self-expression, and an opening for the magic I needed in order to survive.

    Funny to speak of all this in the context of a romantic comedy, yet perhaps the power of the story stems from its basis in profound truth.

    At the end of the final scene, Johnny sits alone as the family excitedly gathers to toast the new couple. He looks stunned, isolated, and lost amid the celebration. Then the grandfather approaches Johnny and extends a glass of champagne, offering the last line in the movie: “You’re part of the family.”

    And with that, Johnny is embraced in the warmth of the family, and I burst into tears. How different is this warm embrace compared to the demands of the narcissistic parent.

    Johnny is played as a buffoonish character, and the audience is fully rooting for Ronny and Loretta. Yet even clownish Johnny is embraced.

    This is love. This is real acceptance.

    This is the tenderness of the movie. This is its big heart, which is depicted, not just in the romantic passion of Ronny and Loretta, but more importantly, in the inclusion of Johnny in the celebration. As the credits begin to roll a toast is raised: “La famiglia!” To family!

    This is the archetypical image of the loving family. And yet many of us did not experience that. And many of us hide a secret shame that our families aren’t like that. I know that I was deeply ashamed for a long time that my story wasn’t pretty like that, until one day I realized that it was not my fault.

    On the day that I accepted my family as it was, and realized that I wasn’t responsible, and rejected the stories they told. On that day I reclaimed my right to my truth about what happened, what I felt, what I thought, and what I experienced.

    Reclaiming our stories—our truth—is how we take our power back.

    If any of this speaks to you, go watch Moonstruck. Johnny hasn’t woken up yet from the spell his mother cast over him. Ronny, with the help of Loretta’s love, breaks out of his hurt isolation and reclaims his life.

    Wake up and face your truth. Sometimes facing the ugliness is the route we must take in order to reclaim our own beauty and power.

  • 3 Ways to Build Stronger, Deeper Friendships

    3 Ways to Build Stronger, Deeper Friendships

    Friends

    “No friendship is an accident.” –O. Henry, Heart of the West

    Recently I was telling a friend how grateful I was that she had initiated a get-together.

    “No one ever reaches out to me,” I complained. “I feel like I am the one driving all of my relationships.”

    “Well,” she responded, “don’t think too highly of me. I almost never reach out…to anyone.”

    I mulled this over on my way home that evening. I have often felt like the driving force behind many of my relationships. But I have also felt on many occasions that I’m just as bad at keeping in touch as my friends.

    The truth is, many of us are terrible at relationships. We leave our social connections up to chance, only spending time with the people we happen to see during the course of our week.

    Sometimes we invite people to spend time with us, but then once they get there we divert half of our attention talking to friends on our phone. Some of us are good at having actual conversations, but not very deep ones—we stick to topics like the weather, the results of the recent sports game in the city, or what’s trending on social media.

    We have come to prize friendships of “convenience” above friendships of substance.

    It’s become more important to us that we make our next meeting or social engagement, respond to the most recent tweet, or check out what’s trending on Facebook than to take the real, raw time it requires to build solid, edifying relationships.

    However you look at it, there is a lot of room for growth when it comes to building friendships and community in our day and age. What are some ways you can foster caring and supportive relationships today in a digital, easily distracted world?

    1. Initiate and reciprocate.

    As much as we all want to be invited by others, you have to remember that they are craving to feel included just as much as you are. You could wait for someone else to ask you to do something, but you may be waiting forever.

    Swallow your pride and just take the first step. Invite them over for dinner, grab coffee in the morning, check out your local museum, go to a concert together or a walk in the park—the possibilities are endless.

    Not all relationships that you initiate will pan out, but being willing to take that first step can go a long way toward creating the foundation of a lasting friendship.

    Of course, this won’t be the only step. Equally as important as initiating is reciprocating when someone else reaches out to you. Initiating with someone once is not going to get you very far if you don’t follow up with more invitations, or they don’t reciprocate in kind.

    I have countless friendships that have burned out because I became frustrated with always being the one to suggest outings. Don’t be that friend. If someone has made the effort to reach out to you, give them the courtesy of doing the same for them.

    2. Be present.

    If we want to develop deep relationships, we’ve got to put down our phones. Or tablets, or computers, or whatever else is distracting us from really connecting with the people sitting right in front of us.

    Consciously focus on listening to what people are saying. Respond accordingly. Ask questions that show you really care about them. If they tell you about something they’re struggling with or excited about, bring it up the next time you talk to them.

    People will be much more willing to invest in you if they feel you truly care about them and what’s going on in their lives, and you can only make them feel you care about them if you really do care. Put the distractions away and commit to being present with your friend for the time you are together.

    I think about this principle often when I contrast my relationships with my brother and my husband.

    My brother is addicted to his phone. He is always on it—updating his social media accounts, responding to texts, or doing research for work.

    When I have asked him to put it down and focus on me, he usually gets annoyed with me. This has caused enormous tension and friction between us, because I feel unimportant and he feels like I’m trying to control him.(Granted, as siblings there is plenty of other baggage between us to cause friction, but the phone is definitely a big part of it.)

    My husband, on the other hand, makes a very conscious, intentional effort to not even have his phone within arm’s reach when he is talking with other people.

    I consistently hear people remark on how loved and important he makes them feel, and personally I have never felt like I was playing second fiddle when I’m around him. It makes me feel so much more comfortable around and close to him.

    I cannot overestimate how important it is to a good relationship to make people feel valued when you’re with them.

    3. Open up and be real.

    Sometimes people need to be coaxed out of their shells by hearing someone else share before they’re willing to do the same. Don’t assume that if you start telling them about yourself they will judge you or remain taciturn.

    Give them the benefit of the doubt and just be willing to open up. Tell them about your life. Ask about theirs.

    After I first got married, I sunk into depression—I know, not exactly the “happily ever after” that I was hoping for. I felt so lost, so alone. Everyone around me was living their happy little perfect lives, and here I was floundering hopelessly all by myself.

    When I finally mustered up the courage to talk to my friends about my challenges, however, I realized that no one actually has a perfect life. Many of them were struggling with some of the very same things that I was, and by being real and honest with them I found succor, solidarity, and hope during a very dark period of my life.

    Be vulnerable enough to tell people what you hope for and need. Your friends want to help you, but they’re not mind readers. Giving them a little insight into your life can go a very long way.

    This list seems so simple! And yet, it is so rarely actually executed. I know so many people, myself included, who have pined for deeper friendships for years and yet never actually taken the time to invest in them. True friendships take work. With a little effort, together we can build better and more supportive communities.

    What can you do today to start deepening a relationship that you care about?

  • 3 Times When I Wasn’t a Good Friend & How to Avoid My Mistakes

    3 Times When I Wasn’t a Good Friend & How to Avoid My Mistakes

    Friends forever

    “I’ve learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” ~Maya Angelou

    In this current age of social media, it is easy to have large and wide social circles. I believe that the larger and wider these circles get, the shallower the friendships become.

    I’ve always been a person who is very selective when forging friendships. I think that has mostly stemmed from the fact that I value depth over breadth, and quality over quantity.

    For this reason, I have had a handful of friendships that have lasted through the test of time. But unfortunately, I have also had a few friendships that I have lost through my own thoughtlessness and complacency.

    Over my adult life, I can identify three times when I failed a very good friend. These times have stayed with me over the years, primarily because of the lessons that I learned from them. Sometimes the lesson was learned immediately; other times the lesson took years to have its full effect on me.

    I hope that by sharing these three stories and their related lessons, I may be able to help you avoid the mistakes I made so you won’t run the risk of damaging any of your most valued friendships.

    When I Ignored Her Needs

    When I was in college, my freshman roommate was a friend from high school. We thought it would be best to room with someone we already knew rather than a total stranger.

    By the end of our freshman year, we realized that we had less in common than we had thought and that it would be better to live separately, but still remain friends. As we both changed and grew over the next two years, we decided to live together again as seniors, and it really turned out to be the best rooming experience of all my four college years.

    During our senior year, we attended the wedding of a mutual friend. At that wedding, I met a man (one of the groomsmen, actually) and had a great time with him. He was from out of town, was going home in the morning, and I really didn’t want the evening to end.

    My friend and I had shared a taxi to the wedding and had planned on going home together. My plans, of course, had changed. I left her to her own devices, to flag down a taxi in a big city, in a part of town that she was not familiar with.

    I should also explain that my friend was not the most adventurous or experienced person I knew. That was part of why she made such a good, reliable roommate.

    I knew that she was very uncomfortable in the situation that I had created for her. But I didn’t care. I thought: “If things were reversed, I would understand. Why doesn’t she understand? What is the big deal anyway? It’s just a cab ride.”

    But to her it wasn’t just a cab ride, and I knew it. I just didn’t want to admit that I knew it. I wanted to pretend it wasn’t true because of my own selfish motives.

    In the end our friendship survived, but the long-distance relationship with the groomsman didn’t. He went back to his ex-girlfriend, and the friend that I had dumped for him comforted me through my heartbreak. She was a much better friend to me at that time than I had been to her.

    The lesson: I learned from this situation that it is so easy to be selfish and not even realize that you are doing it. When you are in the heat of the moment, and you don’t take time to step back and think before you act, you run the risk of letting your emotions get the best of your judgment.

    At that moment, all I thought about was my own interests and completely ignored the needs of my friend. I had no empathy for her, even though I was the one who was putting her in an unpleasant situation through my own selfish actions.

    I learned that true empathy involves understanding and respecting how the other person is feeling even if you would not feel the same way if you were in the same situation. Rather than acknowledging how my friend felt, I expected her to see things my way and to feel as I would have if the situation had been reversed.

    When I Gave in to Pressure

    When I was in my early twenties and living in California, a friend with whom I had remained close for more than ten years flew out from Washington DC to visit me.

    It was her first cross-country trip and a big deal to her. We had not seen each other in years and were both very excited about the visit.

    During the last night of her trip, she was watching TV in my living room when the person who shared my apartment picked up his guitar and started to play. She told him to be quiet because she couldn’t hear the TV. When he took his guitar and left the room, I didn’t think anything of it.

    But later that night he insisted that she had to leave because she had been disrespectful to him. I explained that it was her last night and she’d be gone in the morning. He refused to change his mind, and I gave in to his pressure.

    My friend was in shock, to say the least. She wasn’t even given a chance to apologize. I drove her to a nearby hotel and paid for her room.

    The next morning I took her to the airport, and, to her great credit, she didn’t blame me at all for what happened. I, on the other hand, felt terrible about my lack of conviction and inability to stand up for what I knew was right.

    She and I eventually lost touch over the next year. She never said so, but I suspect that event marked the beginning of the end of our friendship.

    The lesson: I learned that one bad decision can quickly ruin a friendship, especially if you don’t address it. Because my friend acted like she was fine, I preferred to just forget what happened. I thought that was easier than discussing it with her and reminding myself how ashamed I felt about my own behavior.

    I took the easy, immature, and selfish option of sweeping it under the rug. I really think that if I had acted differently and taken responsibility for my mistake, our friendship would have survived.

    When I Didn’t Want to Listen

    Last year I was having a conversation with an old friend. We’ve known each other for almost fifteen years and have shared many of the ups and downs of our lives with each other.

    During that conversation, I asked her if things were any better for her, as she’d just gone through a difficult and tumultuous couple of weeks. She said that things were better and she had not had any more thoughts of suicide.

    Her statement took me completely by surprise, so much so that I had no idea how to react to it.

    My immediate thought was that, as a friend, I couldn’t let a statement like that just slide by unaddressed. I had to say something, anything, in response, but I didn’t. I just acted like she hadn’t said anything out of the ordinary, even though she had never, ever said anything remotely close to that before.

    I later thought about why I hadn’t reacted. And the truth was embarrassingly selfish and simple: I simply was not in the mood to listen.

    I had asked her how she was doing out of politeness, not genuine concern or interest. That day, I was preoccupied and distracted with my own petty problems, and not present or engaged in the conversation. That day, I wasn’t a friend to her at all.

    The lesson: I learned that the true meaning of friendship is to be available and supportive even when it is difficult or unpleasant. That is part of the responsibility that comes along with being a friend.

    Anyone who has children knows that there are days when you don’t feel like doing what needs to be done, but you do it anyway. Similarly, as a true friend, you have to be present no matter what. A true friend doesn’t only provide help and support when it is convenient, but provides it every time that it is needed.

    These are the hard lessons that I have learned about friendship. Do you have any friendship lessons that you learned the hard way?

  • Two Kind Words That Can Change or Save a Life

    Two Kind Words That Can Change or Save a Life

    “Too often we underestimate the power of a touch, a smile, a kind word, a listening ear, an honest compliment, or the smallest act of caring, all of which have the potential to turn a life around.” ~Leo Buscaglia

    My fiancé and I escaped to the northern wilderness. We wanted to build our home and our life off grid, off the beaten path, far from civilization.

    It didn’t matter that I was a city girl who couldn’t handle a chainsaw, fix a pickup, or read the warnings of wind and sky. My fiancé was a mountain man, skilled in survival. That was all we needed for a life in the middle of nowhere. Alone, but together, and we loved it.

    We were independent and resourceful. Nothing fazed us. My fiancé had a solution for everything: broken generators, shortage of water, staying safe on hikes through the hills that we shared with wolves, coyotes, and bears.

    Never once did we doubt our ability to survive.

    And never once did we think that our biggest challenge would come from anything other than the wilderness itself.

    Our days were consumed by nature. We were always one step ahead. One step ahead of hungry bears, deadly windstorms, drought, wildfire, and maintaining the only road that connected us to far-flung humanity. We were always one step ahead.

    Until we weren’t.

    All of a sudden, my fiancé lost his appetite, his skin turned a pea soup green, and his jeans hung off him, a size too big.

    The wilderness was no place to get sick: lack of cell-phone access, few doctors, often-impassable roads, and a five-hour drive to the nearest hospital. Suddenly the idea of “challenge” took on a whole new meaning.

    Finally, after many delays, tests, comings and goings, a diagnosis was confirmed: cancer. My fiancé was stoic. But the news hit me with hurricane force.

    Our world flipped upside down.

    Suddenly we were thrown into the scary unknown, a place far more challenging than the wilderness of the bush.

    Surgery was booked. My once strong, ever-so-independent mountain man was forced to let go, to place his trust in the skill of a surgeon and the goodwill of the universe. I was terrified, but in my role of “pillar of support,” I acted brave by swallowing my fear.

    In the faraway town where the operation would take place, I would sleep at the Easter Seal House. It was close to the hospital and affordable. But it was also a dorm.

    The idea of sharing accommodation added to my stress. I was an introvert; I’d been living in the bush. The last thing I wanted was to socialize with strangers when my mind was consumed with worries for my man.

    But there was no choice.

    The following day, the operation, they said it would last a few hours. It took much longer. Then finally some news. “All is well, ” the surgeon said. And the relief of it almost felled me.

    I thanked the surgeon; thanked the universe for throwing a lifeline. There would be a tomorrow, after all. And a tomorrow after that.

    Two days later, results showed a spread of the disease.

    We were not in the clear after all.

    That night, I stayed as late as possible at the hospital with my fiancé. I wanted to curl up in his narrow bed, but he was hooked up to so many tubes and wires, and the eighteen-inch wound running down his belly was tender and sore.

    When I reluctantly left to walk back to the “dorm,” the night was late and frigidly cold. My mood was as black and as slippery as the ice underfoot. All I wanted to do was to curl up and cry. The thought of facing a group of strangers sunk me further.

    At the front door of the Easter Seal House, a small group of old men huddled under the outdoor light, sucking on cigarettes and stamping their feet to stay warm. They looked as miserable as I felt.

    Inside, a new guest had arrived to share my room. She was setting up an oxygen machine that would keep her lungs safe through the night. The room was too cramped to make use of my offer to help, so I retreated to the lounge.

    The TV in the lounge blasted a comedy. I slipped into the only spare spot, at the edge of the threadbare couch. A plump woman with bleached blond, coifed hair and rose-polished nails giggled wildly at the antics of the TV characters.

    My mood was too dark to laugh; instead, I was flooded with gnarly judgments about the stupidity of TV, of sitcoms, of sharing accommodation with strangers.

    I told myself I don’t belong with this group, with this coifed blond giggler and her rose-polished nails. As the judgments in my mind exploded, my mood turned surly.

    At the break for an ad, the volume on the TV spiked. The blond reached for the remote, decreased the sound. One small mercy. A few minutes later, volume up again. Part of me wanted to seize the remote and hurl it out the window.

    The sitcom resumed. Some inane stunt threw the giggler into hysterics.

    Suddenly, she turned in my direction, clearly wanting to share the joke that I so obviously didn’t get.

    Quickly she scanned me, and whatever it was that she saw prompted her to switch the TV right off, right in the middle of her show. She turned back to me again, this time swiveling her entire body right around to face me.

    “Tell me,” she said.

    And then I saw. Past the pristine rose nails and frilly sweater, past the coifed bleached hair and perfect makeup, I now saw a pair of soft, welcoming eyes. “Tell me,” she repeated in a gentle invitation.

    And I did. And something inside me broke. All the feelings of tension and sorrow melted as I accepted her invitation.

    I told her about my fiancé’s surgery, the cancer, its spread, and the hope for future treatments. I told her about my fears for our isolated life in the wilderness. How would I manage? And she listened. She listened with gentle eyes. She listened with her whole body, nodding, as if to say, “I hear you, I understand.”

    And it amazed me, this gentle space that she had created through the depth of her presence. It amazed me how her kindness helped me peel open months of fear and anguish. Her invitation to tell my story was an invitation I didn’t even know I needed, yet desperately did.

    One by one, the old smokers lumbered back in from the frigid night. They and others joined us. A semi-circle formed around the woman and myself. Haggard, jaundiced faces, bandaged arms; it struck me how all of us were wounded in one way or another, fellow travellers on a shared and complicated journey.

    By the time I finished my story, a soft gratitude had filled my heart and eased my worries. My burden shared was a burden halved.

    In the wee hours before dawn, sleep came gently in a way that it hadn’t for a very long time.

    I never saw that woman again. But her generosity, in switching off a sitcom that she so clearly enjoyed to welcome instead my story, was a gift.

    It allowed me to move past a sense of disconnection from others, to share my vulnerability, to be heard and understood. And it gave me solace and a feeling of connection when I needed it most.

    Above all, that woman and her gift of compassion showed me that no matter how small, an act of kindness truly does have the power transform a life.

    It transformed mine. By lightening my load, it created space for the challenges that lay ahead.

    So many of us walk around carrying heavy burdens, desperate for a sense of relief. It may seem so simple, but two little words can dramatically ease our pain and our suffering. Such simple little words: Tell me.

  • 7 Steps to Create More Love and Happiness in the Present Moment

    7 Steps to Create More Love and Happiness in the Present Moment

    “The ability to be in the present moment is a major component of mental wellness.” ~Abraham Maslow

    It was 4:00am, but I was wide awake. I wanted to be a great achiever, a great partner, and a great parent. Instead, I had turned into an irritable insomniac who no longer knew how to relax.

    I was trying to do everything perfectly and be everything to everyone. Demands kept piling up. This made it tough to focus on the present moment.

    A wandering mind is less happy than a mind focused on what it is doing, according to scientific research. For most people, a wandering mind dominates about half of the time spent awake. That encourages over-thinking, anxiety, and other emotional distress, while limiting the quality of work and play.

    At the time, I didn’t realize how focusing on many different things at once limited my ability to be fully present in my relationships. I also didn’t realize just how crucial relationships are to happiness.

    The Harvard Study of Adult Development tracked people for seventy-five years. People who thrived weren’t those who gained wealth and fame, but those who nurtured great relationships with family, friends, and community.

    What’s the key to nurturing great relationships? Presence. Love flourishes in an atmosphere of kindness, patience, forgiveness, trust, and hope. This is helped by presence and responsiveness in the moment. Anxiety and impatience don’t provide a fertile soil for love.

    I’ve gradually developed a way of being more present in each waking moment of a busy life. It’s made me much calmer, kinder, happier, more relaxed, confident, and more attentive to family, friends, and even strangers.

    Think of your mind as a computer screen with many tabs open. How can you close all the tabs except one, and focus on that? Here’s what works for me.

    1. Clarify what you value.

    Identify your top core values, those things that make life worth living for you. For example, I most value love, health, peace of mind, contribution, and self-actualization. Your list might be a bit different.

    It’s okay to fantasize about being atop some metaphorical mountain. However, it helps to make values, rather than goals, your “mountaintops.” Then you can keep living by your values even if you don’t succeed at one of your goals. For example, you might not yet be able to take that dream round-the-world trip with your partner, but you can still give them your undivided attention for a little time each day.

    This approach boosts motivation and peace of mind. It also plucks fulfillment out of the distant future and brings it into the present moment, enabling you to focus on the now. When your days and minutes express what you value, you become more confident that there’s nothing else you should be doing at any given moment.

    2. Identify your options.

    What are the goals and projects you could pursue? How does each measure up against your top few core values? How much of your time does each require?

    For example, a passion of mine is to help people live with more calm, energy, and brainpower. I started a group, then more people wanted to join. I could have increased the number of groups, but that would have required too much time, eating into my personal relationships.

    I explored other options and decided to start a learning center online. This allows me to contribute more, without sacrificing what I value.

    3. Focus.

    Focus on the top few goals/projects that emerge. Form a clear idea of the next step toward achieving each goal. The solutions to life’s challenges can nearly always be reduced to a simple next step, and another, and so on.

    If you chase too many goals or projects at one time, you might be pulled in different directions, be constantly pre-occupied, and get nowhere. A better way is to focus more boldly, so that your life becomes as simple as taking the next step, with full presence.

    Once you recognize your core values, it becomes easier to say no to attractive options that don’t fit you well enough. For example, I once said no to a surprise offer of an amazing job in another country. The time was not right to uproot our family. I kept what I valued.

    4. Allocate time.

    Allocate blocks of time to each next step according to the importance of the goal to you. Allocate sufficient time regularly for relaxing with family and friends. Allocate some time regularly for planning, worrying, and problem solving.

    Allocating time allows you to steer the ship of your life instead of letting circumstances throw you around.

    For example, I used to be a champion worrier. Then I started setting apart blocks of time for worrying and problem solving. Now worry has to wait for its turn, freeing me to be more fully present when I’m with loved ones.

    5. Act with full presence.

    Throw yourself into each next step at the allocated time. Inhabit each moment of that “next step” fully, as if there was nothing better to do, nothing else to think about, and nowhere better to be.

    This practice calms me. It helps me to work and play better.

    When the allocated time is finished, move on to another “next step,” perhaps for another goal or project. Give that new “next step” your complete, undivided attention during its allocated time.

    Inhabit the moment fully even when you’re not busy pursuing a goal, such as during your planning and problem-solving time, or relaxing with family or friends, or enjoying a hobby.

    I love how this approach frees me to have a bit of fun every day instead of just during vacations. That renews me and restores my equilibrium, amid a busy life.

    6. Save non-urgent problems for later.

    When a non-urgent problem comes up, make a note of it and deal with it later, during your planning, worrying, and problem-solving time. Only when an urgent and important problem comes up need you drop everything else and deal with it.

    What if your children or boss continually bombard you with supposedly urgent and important demands? Guard a little time to refresh and recharge yourself. Your children will eventually grow more independent, and you might consider changing your job.

    7. Review.

    Review how things are going from time to time. If necessary, review the goals and projects to check whether they’re still well-aligned with your values. Sometimes a new opportunity may deserve attention, or your emphasis might need to shift.

    Think of your life as a ship that tends to veer off course. That’s quite common. Your reviews can then gently steer you back on course, toward your core values.

    —

    This seven-step process has replaced a racing, anxious mind with more focus in the present moment. I now enjoy warmer relationships, better work and play, and greater confidence that I can cope with whatever life brings.

    You can inhabit the present moment easily when you’re confident that there’s nothing better for you to do, nothing else to think about right now, and nowhere better to be. This seven-step process will allow you such confidence.

    You don’t have to get this perfect. You just need to get it roughly right, and then adjust your course during your reviews.

    You can then be more present when you’re with family, friends, and others, fully enjoying your time together. Everything that really needs doing will eventually get done, in its allocated time.

    You’ll also become far more secure in dealing with challenges and problems, because your self-image will change.

    You may have felt like a chronically overloaded person. Now you’ll feel more confident about picking your battles, breaking a big problem into small pieces, and patiently eating even a metaphorical “elephant” one morsel at a time. Life needn’t be more complicated than taking one small step at a time.

    You’ll also deal more confidently with disappointments and failures, since you may fail at a particular goal but continue to express your core values through other goals and projects.

    Regrets will dim, because you’ll become more confident that the way you spend your time is an expression of your cherished values, regardless of any particular outcome.

    You’ll also start to achieve much more, with less struggle. But the main satisfaction will come from living a meaningful life that expresses your cherished values in each waking moment.

    This works powerfully for me. You might want to try something like this. If you do, be prepared for more peace of mind, confidence, love, and happiness in each moment.

  • An Open Letter To My Bullies: Thank You For Making Me Strong

    An Open Letter To My Bullies: Thank You For Making Me Strong

    “The heart is like a garden: it can grow compassion or fear, resentment or love. What seeds will you plant there?” ~Jack Kornfield

    Dear Bullies,

    To be honest, I didn’t think I would ever write you a letter. As far as I was concerned, the amount of suffering I went through during my school years was enough to make me bitter.

    I didn’t forgive you, and I most certainly wasn’t about to forget.

    I remember those years like it was yesterday—the cruel name calling; the scrutinizing of how I looked, what I said, and what I did; the public humiliation and cornering on the bus rides home.

    Wrong face. Wrong size. Wrong skin color. Wrong personality.

    No matter how hard I tried to understand it all, it felt like the world was telling me that I didn’t belong, and I never would.

    I remember the hours spent locked in my room crying after school, while my mother paced around the house anxiously. Back then I didn’t know how to communicate to her how I was feeling, and she felt at a loss how to help. I felt paralyzed and confused.

    In the schoolyard I was the good girl who never spoke badly of anyone, the quiet student who worked hard and who hated getting into trouble.

    I remember the laughter, my cheeks burning as I walked from class to class, wishing that the earth would just swallow me up.

    Dear bullies, I really remember that laughter.

    I remember the times you refused to sit next to me, “that thing” in the class photos, deeming me too ugly to sit next to, unworthy of sharing your personal space.

    I felt crushed that day.

    Or the times you used pens and sharp objects to write cruel nicknames over all of my school books and stationery while I was home sick.

    And yet every time my family moved to a new city to follow my father’s job, I always held hope that somehow this next new school would be different, I would be different.

    I would be finally accepted.

    But that day never seemed to come, and it wasn’t long before flip top cell phones without color, instant messenger, and social media websites arrived, sending messages that made my insides squirm.

    You were my so called “friends.” You were strangers who found an easy target in a girl who was too afraid to use her voice.

    I remember it all.

    When I finally escaped school in my teenage years, I thought I was free. Instead, a suffocating depression and crippling anxiety knocked heavily on my door, as I withdrew from the world, convinced that “you” would be everywhere.

    I hastily took your critical voices and directed it inward. You became my internal radio station, one that I couldn’t quite figure out how to change or even switch off.

    But this is not where my story ends.

    By being forced to go within, I began to slowly gather puzzle pieces out of a dark and challenging place.

    I explored every nook and corner, searching for long lost parts of me, parts that hadn’t been seen in quite some time.

    I learned how to face myself without fear, but rather with a growing sense of maturity that helped me to look beyond my pain and start to become aware of yours.

    You see, we humans are merely a reflection of one another.

    For you to project words so broken and so laced with anger, you had to have been battling your very own storms within.

    Genuinely happy people don’t pull others down, and for that, you have taught me the art of compassion.

    You have taught me how to connect fully with others from all walks of life; I look around me, and I see beyond the superficial, the carefully put up walls, and I see something else:

    I see that behind every face, behind every pair of eyes filled with experiences, there is a story to be told, if we just took more time to stop and listen.

    And even though some of your stories are now forever linked with mine, they’re now the gritty, rough drafts that add to the chapters rather than take away from it.

    Because, you see, despite the hurt, you truly did contribute to the biggest gift of all:

    The gift of learning to genuinely love and accept the child that I was and the woman I am becoming.

    And for that, I only have a few words for you:

    Thank you for making me strong.

    Kind regards,

    Rachel

  • How I Think My Friend Who Died Would Want Me to Live

    How I Think My Friend Who Died Would Want Me to Live

    Open Arms

    “Death is not the greatest loss in life. The greatest loss is what dies inside us while we live.” ~Norman Cousins

    Have you ever been there?

    When someone you love suddenly disappears. When life, within a few seconds, turns upside down. When your biggest problems suddenly seem like nothing but drops in the ocean.

    I know I have.

    It was December 15, 2013. That was the day when everything changed, when her life came to an end, and many other lives were changed forever.

    When they first told me she was gone, I couldn’t fully grasp reality. For a second I wondered who this person was they were talking about—this person who apparently had the same name as my friend.

    Then, the reality sank in. My heart broke into a thousand pieces.

    Being one of the first to find out, I knew I had to be the carrier of the awful news. I had to tell people that someone they loved was gone. She had a lot of friends all over the world, so I made calls to Brazil, the United States, Venezuela, France, and the Netherlands.

    Some couldn’t say anything; others cried hysterically. After each call, my heart broke a little more. Hearing the pain and sorrow in others was almost more than I could take. Everything seemed so unreal. One day she was there and the next she was gone.

    Over two years have passed since that day. Now she smiles at me from the picture on my desk. Sometimes I imagine her being here with me. If she were, what would she tell me? How would she want me to live my life? I think she would tell me something like this:

    1. Be open to new friends.

    The first time we met was in a bar in Saint-Denis, Paris. I was new to the city and barely knew anyone there. Even though she already had her life established, she never hesitated to become friends. She initiated our friendship; she made the first phone call and asked to meet again. For that, I’m very grateful to her.

    As we grow older, we tend to stop making new friends. But, that also means that we deprive ourselves of new, unexpected, and incredible experiences. So, choose to stay open and curious about new people. They might just change your life.

    2. Laugh often.

    She was a happy person. She could light up a room with her warm smile and infectious laughter. When I met her parents, I knew exactly where she had gotten that from. Even at her funeral, her father opened up by saying, “I can’t believe I’m standing at my daughter’s funeral with a smile on my face. Seeing that so many people cared for my daughter brings warmth to my heart.”

    Joy is contagious, so smile more, and laugh often. You won’t just feel better, but you’ll also touch the heart of others while you’re at it.

    3. Stop doubting yourself.

    We once had a conversation in which she questioned whether she was lovable as a person. She had no reason to doubt herself, believe me. But, unfortunately, many of us do. We question if we’re good enough, smart enough, or good looking enough.

    She was at her best when she was herself fully and completely—including the flaws, quirks, and imperfections. We should trust that the same applies to us all. Trust that there were no mistakes when we were created. Trust that our differences are what make us unique and irreplaceable.

    4. Choose to see the positive.

    When we were going through uncertain times at work, and nobody knew if they would keep their job, she was the only one who laughed and joked about it. When someone would ask, “So, any news?” she’d always say with a smile, “Still here!” Even though circumstances were difficult, she chose to see the positive. And her positive attitude grew into a positive result, as she was among the group of people who would keep their jobs.

    Being positive when things aren’t going our way isn’t easy—it’s easier to complain and be negative. But, what we focus on tends to grow. So, instead of fighting what isn’t working, focus on what is working and on that which we want to grow. Simply put, give power to faith instead of fear.

    5. Don’t judge.

    She wasn’t someone who judged. Instead, she chose to accept everyone for who they were. She never allowed looks, clothes, or opinions to stand in the way of connecting to someone. Instead, she knew she had something to learn from everyone. So, rather than being critical to differences, she chose to be curious about them.

    We never know what someone has gone through or is going through; therefore, we’re not in a position to judge. Judgment creates separation between people, while curiosity builds bridges. Choose to stay curious.

    6. Love fully.

    She knew the power of love. She knew how it could build someone up or destroy them completely. No matter if it was a love partner or friend, she always chose to love fully. She did so by giving her undivided attention, sincerely wanting the best for everyone, and by being generous with compliments, time, and support.

    When I think of her, I think about the love she gave me and the love I have for her. Because, in the end, all that matters is the love we hold and share.

    7. Don’t waste time.

    Before her death, I used to live as if I would live forever. I talked about dreams, but I never acted on them. I always found excuses as to why it wasn’t the right time, or fretted about how things wouldn’t work out. But then her life ended at twenty-six.

    And if she were here today, I think she would tell me the following:

    “Don’t wait and prepare yourself for the life you truly desire. Start living it right now. Make the most of life while you still can. Make sure every minute of your time here counts.”

    Because it does count.

  • Why We Worry About What Other People Think of Us (And How to Stop)

    Why We Worry About What Other People Think of Us (And How to Stop)

    “When I look back on all these worries, I remember the story of the old man who said on his deathbed that he had had a lot of trouble in his life, most of which had never happened.” ~Winston Churchill

    I often play a little game with myself when I’m feeling bad. The game is a simple one, and maybe one that some people might find slightly morbid, but it cuts to the heart of the matter.

    I ask myself if this thing that is making me feel bad will matter to me when I’m on my deathbed. Ninety-nine percent of the time the answer is no.

    The things that matter to us when we’re contemplating our demise are the things that are actually important like, Did I love enough? and, Did I do all of the things I wanted to do?

    No one on their deathbed has ever said, “Man, I really wish I hadn’t stumbled over my words during that job interview.” Or, “I wonder why no one complimented me at that party when I was twenty-two.”

    We spend a lot of our time worrying about things that won’t matter to us later.

    You might be thinking, but it matters to me now, and it does. But there are two reasons why it shouldn’t: The first is that worrying is counterproductive, and the second is that worrying about what other people think of you doesn’t serve you.

    Worrying is the most impractical way to use your energy. There has never been a time when worrying if so-and-so would like you, give you the job, or want to be your partner in life contributed to you getting what you want.

    Not only does this not solve your problems, it typically leads to anxiety and overwhelm.

    When things are outside of our perceived control, like when we’re meeting people for the first time, worry kicks in.

    Our minds are wired for negativity—an evolutionary tool designed to keep us safe. But today, this process doesn’t serve us. We’re not meeting bears that might kill us at the event tonight, but our bodies are responding as if we were.

    Just like anything that isn’t serving us, worry can act as a signpost for where we need to dig more deeply into ourselves.

    Worrying about what other people think about you is a key indicator that you do not feel whole without the approval of others. 

    You’re looking outside of yourself to fill something only you can fill. No amount of approval from an outside source will ever make you feel whole. You’ll get it once and need it again and again and again. It’s an addictive cycle that turns you away from yourself.

    I remember when I began dating in my early twenties. I was super nervous because I wanted to make a good impression on whoever I was going out with. I was so focused on appearing likable that I didn’t even consider whether or not I liked him.

    This, in the simplest of terms, is disempowerment.

    We disempower ourselves when we’re more concerned with how other people perceive us than we are about how we perceive ourselves.

    When you are truly content with who you are, you stop being concerned with whether or not other people like you.

    You deserve to live your life for you instead of chasing an ideal your mind has created.

    You deserve to discover who you truly are, and show that incredible person to the world.

    You deserve to have people around you who love and admire you for who you are instead of who you are trying to be.

    There are two techniques that have alleviated my worry about what others think of me. The first is my breathwork practice, a powerful active meditation that gives me clarity, connection to my deeper self, and lightness of being.

    The second is mindfulness, the act of being conscious and nonjudgmental of my thoughts. Once I’m aware of my thought process, I work on actively shifting my focus to something that serves me.

    I recently went through a shocking breakup. It was shocking because the person I had been dating led me to believe he was committed to me, and we were planning our futures together.

    Without warning, he decided he didn’t want that. Of course, there is a natural grieving process when we lose someone we love dearly, but part of my challenge has been letting go of what he thinks about me now.

    I will have thoughts about how he doesn’t hold me in the high regard he once did, and it will leave me feeling deflated.

    In these moments, I am disempowering myself. I am allowing his thoughts about me to matter, and they shouldn’t.

    It’s not that we shouldn’t ever care about what people think about us, but we should care what we think about ourselves first. So in these moments I ask myself who I am and place my attention there.

    If he doesn’t think I’m amazing anymore, it doesn’t matter, because I know I am.

    We disempower ourselves far too often. A simple shift in our thinking can bring us into connection with the truth.

    When you find yourself concerned about what someone thinks about you, bring the focus back to yourself. If you’re thinking, “I hope she doesn’t think I’m a flake.” Ask yourself, “Am I a flake?” If you know the answer is no, then you’re good. Release it and move on.

    If the answer is yes, then take note and forgive yourself for it.

    When you spend time wondering how other people perceive you, you create stories that are often far from the truth. In order to change, we have to be able to see ourselves, accept who we are by giving ourselves love, and then make new choices.

    Worrying about everyone else’s possible thoughts doesn’t contribute to positive transformation.

    When I’m on my deathbed, the people who are going to matter to me are the ones who chose me, the ones who really saw me, the people who chose to give me love even when I fumbled.

    These are the people who matter.

    And it will matter to me that I lived a life I was proud of, that I was able to get to know myself and share that person with the people I love.

    So, you have to learn to be your own advocate. You have to stop giving your power away to other people.

    Like meditation practice, each time your mind wanders to the thoughts of other people, bring it right on back to yourself. Fill up that void with your own love. Stand in your own power. Show people who you really are, unapologetically.

    Don’t wait for someone else’s permission to be amazing. If they don’t see it in you, it doesn’t matter.

    The truth is that if they don’t see it in you, it’s because they don’t see it in themselves.

    We are all acting as mirrors for one another. Don’t try to be the broken version of someone else. Be the best version of yourself and your own biggest fan.

  • 3 Ways You May Be Undermining Your Self-Worth (And How to Stop)

    3 Ways You May Be Undermining Your Self-Worth (And How to Stop)

    “You yourself, as much as anybody in the entire universe, deserve your love and affection.” ~Buddha

    Self-worth comes from knowing that you are enough, just as you are. You are inherently worthy, and you don’t need anyone else’s approval.

    I didn’t always hold myself in high regard, or treat myself with the respect I deserved. I’m now in my thirties and live a beautiful life filled with self-love, kindness, and passion, but in my younger years I suffered from low self-worth.

    I had my fair share of life lessons and allowed myself to be treated poorly.

    I begged for love from a partner who was repeatedly unfaithful, holding onto hope that somehow he would change.

    I criticized my perfectly healthy and beautiful body, wishing it were different, and endlessly compared it to how others’ bodies.

    I also unconsciously bought into the belief that it was selfish to look after myself rather than seeing it as an essential part of supporting myself.

    I spent years being my own worst critic, and I couldn’t understand how to become my own best friend.

    I now recognize that I was desperately craving love and attention, but was withholding it from myself. I had forgotten my inherent power and worthiness.

    We all have times when we get caught up in routines and behaviors that don’t support us, yet we have the ability to make changes in our lives. We are never powerless. Once we understand where we might be hurting ourselves, it becomes much easier to know how to step up and support ourselves.

    Here are three ways you may be undermining your own self-worth, and how you can stop.

    1. Stop focusing on what is wrong with you.

    Most of us have a tendency to focus on what is wrong with us, and what it is we want to “fix.” We may focus on the fact that we think we are too big, too shy, not pretty enough, or not capable enough. There is no end to the ways we can critique ourselves! We unconsciously get into the mental routine of continually undermining our own self-worth.

    As a teenager, I struggled with my body image. Tragically, I look back and recognize that I had no reason to, but at the time I was comparing myself to the glossy images in magazines and other people who looked nothing like me.

    I hated my fair skin, was unhappy that my thighs touched, and thought my lips were too thin. I wanted to be a beautiful person, but thought of myself as anything but. I was relying purely on my physical appearance for my self-worth.

    Over the last fifteen years I’ve built a beautiful relationship with my body, and also with my soul. I now see my body as an amazing creation that allows me to experience life. I am grateful for my beating heart and two legs that hold me steady. I also recognize that I have a caring and kind nature, and those internal attributes are much more important than how I look on the outside.

    The lesson: Consciously focus on what is right with you.

    Regardless of how you might want to improve, you have things that are worth celebrating about yourself. You have gifts and unique talents that have come together to create you—a unique expression of humanity.

    Don’t overlook how amazing that is. Remember all the things you love about yourself and make a list. If you find it difficult to bring to mind the things that are so very right with you, ask a close friend what it is they appreciate about you and truly listen to and believe their response.

    2. Stop accepting less than you deserve.

    Many of us look for our self-worth in the wrong places. Rather than deriving it from ourselves, it’s easy to get into the habit of looking to others to make us feel worthy and loved. This can lead to struggling stand up for yourself and what, deep down, you know you deserve.

    By not wanting to upset others, you may end up giving too generously and find yourself in relationships where you feel you do not get enough in return.

    I have fallen into this trap in many relationships over the years. With friends, I would desperately make sure I paid for things to ensure I was never in debt to anyone, and always ended up spending more.

    I stayed in an unhealthy relationship littered with infidelity for years longer than I should have because I didn’t have the courage to stand up for myself and say, “How you are treating me is not okay.” It leads to feelings of frustration and resentment, and erodes your self-worth.

    My need to be liked and keep others happy led to situations where others took advantage of my good nature. I forgot it was my birthright to have boundaries, and that I didn’t have to put up with other people’s bad behavior. I had forgotten my power to say no.

    The lesson: You teach people how to treat you.

    Boundaries are important, and if something doesn’t feel right to you, you have to stand up for yourself and say no—whether it is someone’s behavior that’s crossed a line, or their ongoing expectations of your giving nature. You cannot expect anyone else to look out for your needs if you are not willing to first look out for yourself.

    If you tolerate negative situations or draining friendships, you are unconsciously saying yes to that type of behavior.

    Give yourself the space to reflect on your current relationships and have the courage to ask, “Do I feel I am treated as I deserve?” If the answer is no, don’t be afraid to reclaim your self-worth and stand up for what you need. You’ll feel better in the long run.

    3. Stop putting yourself at the bottom of your to-do list.

    Many of us have unconsciously taken on the belief that looking after ourselves is indulgent and selfish, and that the right thing to do is to take care of everyone else first. We put our own well-being at the bottom of our to-do lists and just hope that we might have some time and energy left to give to ourselves.

    Yet, if we don’t nourish ourselves, we won’t actually have anything to give. You cannot pour from an empty cup. When you put yourself at the bottom of your to-do list, you begin to burnout. You get sucked into a cycle of exhaustion, martyrdom, and low self-worth.

    Although I always had a tendency to give to others before myself, this wasn’t a lesson I was truly faced with until I had children in my late twenties. When there are multiple people relying on you, it becomes very easy to slip into martyrdom and begin to believe you have no time for yourself. After a couple of years of this routine, I reached a breaking point where I felt burned out and depleted.

    Slowly but surely, I began to start finding the time for small acts of self-care that revived and restored my spirit.

    I found an outlet for my creativity by starting a blog; I began reading again and regularly taking long hot showers. They were small things that made a big difference. I went from feeling rundown, exhausted, and unsure of my worth, to remembering the things that made me feel alive, energized and whole.

    The lesson: Recognize that self-care is an essential part of supporting yourself.

    When you show yourself respect by prioritizing your needs, and fill up your own cup, you send yourself a message that you are important and worthy.

    By consistently showing yourself this level of respect, you can pull yourself out of the cycle of exhaustion and martyrdom and begin to build self-worth. We each have different things that fill us up and make us feel alive and well inside, but you owe it to yourself to discover these things and make time for them in your life.

    —

    Cultivating self-worth will be a life-long journey for most of us. It is likely that many times over, life will knock our confidence and we will be required to once again dig deep into ourselves and uncover our inherent worthiness. Being aware of how we can support ourselves empowers us to take actions that will move us forward on the path to greater self-worth.

  • How to Have a Peaceful Mother’s Day with a Difficult Mother

    How to Have a Peaceful Mother’s Day with a Difficult Mother

    Mother and Daughter

    “I’d rather be honest and authentic and disappoint some people than to exhaust myself trying to keep up the facade of perfection.” ~Crystal Paine

    “You’re the Best Mom Ever!”

    Nope.

    “You’ve always listened, loved, and let me lean on you.”

    Not really.

    For most of my adult life, every year before Mother’s Day I stood in front of a beautiful display of cards fairly bursting with love, and tried to find one that my authentic self would allow me to give my mother, and that my mother would be pleased enough with that the day would be calm and pleasant.

    Out of the corner of my eye, I saw other people browsing, smiling, choosing, and leaving, while I stood there desperately trying to find a verse that would honor my personal integrity.

    Eventually, I would find one that was close enough—usually one that expressed what a wonderful woman I thought she was. Because I did. Then I’d head to the checkout counter with a knot in my stomach.

    My mother was a narcissist, and most likely had borderline personality disorder.

    She was extremely intelligent, attractive, sometimes funny, and a real go-getter. Her creative output was truly amazing. But our relationship was fraught with competition from day one—a push/pull of my trying to satisfy her limitless needs while holding on to whatever threads of my inner self that I could.

    There wasn’t much room in her life for me, other than as an extension of herself.

    Over the years, I investigated and experimented with innumerable maneuvers to try and please her. But either she did not want to be pleased, or she did not care to grant me the satisfaction of having made her happy. I never knew which it was; I only knew that I never pleased her.

    Mother’s Day was one of the most difficult holidays in our family, because no matter what happened or how much attention we gave my mother, her bottomless need for attention remained unfulfilled at the end of the day.

    I finally learned that the only way to maintain my sense of self was to give what I comfortably could and let the result roll off my back. Of course, it took a few decades of off-and-on therapy before I could separate myself enough from the enmeshment with my mother that I could keep my own point of view in the forefront of my mind while I interacted with her.

    I’d like to share some things I learned in the hopes of helping others whose relationships are similarly entangled. This same advice could apply to your father, should you need this come June.

    1. Remember that in the real world, your needs are just as important as your mother’s.

    It may only look like hers are massively more important because that’s how she behaves. Do something nice for yourself on Mother’s Day if you can—especially if you’re a mother or father yourself.

    2. Try to hold on to your own point of view even while you’re interacting with your mother.

    For decades, I just dissociated and became the “Good Little Girl” whenever I was with my mother, but in doing that I caused myself several weeks’ worth of plummeting self-esteem after each visit.

    Even if you don’t speak your mind, you can hold on to your own beliefs and feelings about the relationship so you don’t totally lose yourself.

    3. Choose not to add fuel the fire.

    If your mother gets upset or tries to initiate a struggle, say something like, “This is your special day, Mom. Let’s not fight.”

    4. If you need space, take it.

    Use the bathroom, go for a walk, offer to get her a cup of coffee or a sweater so you can move to another room. If it works for you, ask a friend a few days before the event to give you a call at a certain time, then say, “Sorry, I have to take this,” and move into another room or outside.

    5. Photos can defuse a difficult situation.

    Have some photos of your kids, pets, friends, or landscapes on your phone, and whip it out if needed: “Hey, did I show you the new photo of Rover?” Also, this tactic turns your attention and hers from each other to a device.

    6. Refrain from mentioning any great news you have until a few days after Mother’s Day, unless it includes your mother.

    Some mothers are pleased to share the spotlight; some are not.

    7. Remember that you’re probably doing a great job of supporting and encouraging your mother, and you’re most likely an intelligent, talented, and worthy person.

    Don’t buy into whatever criticisms your mother might throw at you. Some people get a lift from criticizing—even when they’re just making something up.

    8. When you leave, leave it behind you.

    Move your thoughts to something you’re excited or happy about. Don’t run over the conversations in your head. They’re in the past, and you can accomplish so much more without bad movies replaying over and over in your mind.

    —

    In spite of my lifelong difficulties with my mother, there were many things I loved about her. You might say I loved her soul—it was her personality that caused the difficulty.

    If you can remain aware of what you love about your mother, it may make your time together easier. And since what you focus on expands, it might even bring those qualities out in her behavior over time.

    I know on a very deep level how difficult it can be to move forward in life when a parent seems to do everything possible to hold you back. But it’s imperative to keep going, to build a life that fulfills you. One day your mother will be gone, and there will be much more space in your life for you and your needs and desires. Don’t let her “timing” dictate when you get to start living your life.

    In fact, I think there should be a “Celebrate Self Day” to go with all the other holidays. It may be what we all most need.