Tiny Buddha

Category: Blog

  • Acceptance Is Not Passive; It’s the Path to Peace

    Acceptance Is Not Passive; It’s the Path to Peace

    “The price of our vitality is the sum of all of our fears.” ~David Whyte

    Acceptance by its very nature is imperfect; it’s messy and often unpleasant, while ultimately leading to a place of growth, a sense of freedom, and a life familiar with ease. I know this because I have had a lot of painful acceptance in my life, and it has been crucial to helping me move beyond the stuckness of fear and suffering.

    Years ago, being the natural striving, fun-seeking, achievement-oriented person I was, I ignored the fact that my body felt like a truck had run over it. I pushed, faked, and hid what my body was really feeling… until it all came to a screeching halt.

    Diagnosed with lupus, an autoimmune disease, and a future of chronic pain or worse, I had to give up the impressive job, the active social life, and the self-image that had all propped me up in the world.  And then what was left?

    Instinctively, I wanted to go back to the way things were, to repatch it all back together again.  Fortunately, I inherently felt the impossibility of all of that, and so the work began.

    I started taking a meditation class and then a Buddhist practice, and one day sitting silently, feeling my body breathing, listening inwardly to what was there, the hard, guarding shell around my heart broke.  I had to accept there was no going back to normal, there was only being with what is and opening to where that might lead.

    Acceptance is not resignation. It is not passively giving up. It takes courage and strength.

    I feel it more of a falling inward, dropping into the sensations of what is, recognizing and acknowledging what’s there. A place of empowerment and choice instead of feeling like a victim to chance. It is a beautiful sense of coming home to the body in the present moment, a feeling of wholeness and strength to better face your circumstances, whatever they may be.

    That being said, there were a lot of tears and a lot of pain; in other words, it was messy. A series of small steps, it took a while.

    I had to accept that I could no longer keep up with my carefree, energetic friends as they traveled around the world and partied around the clock.

    I had to accept I would no longer create interesting buildings as an architect or participate in gallery shows as an artist.

    Most difficult of all, I had to accept that I could no longer be the fun-loving, happy person my husband needed—at least not right away.

    I had to accept my life had suddenly taken a new direction and be receptive to the possible changes that this might bring. Receptivity was the key to opening toward inner growth and inner intimacy, as well as a place of gentleness, all new territory for me!

    So what is your experience of acceptance really like? Maybe there is an image or metaphor that best viscerally says “acceptance” to you. To me, it feels like a slow-motion fall into an undercurrent that sweeps me away.

    It can feel quite beautifully poetic as a surrender into what is present, which floods me with a feeling of relief. It is more honest, more pure, less tinged with the shoulds of daily life—as in the pressure to be more productive, to be energetically outgoing, to follow through on all of my perceived responsibilities as a daughter, a wife, a friend.

    Allowing myself to actually be the way I felt, without the weight of someone else’s expectations, was the beginning of moving toward physical and emotional health.

    Rilke writes, “Gravity is like an ocean current that takes hold of even the strangest thing and pulls it toward the earth. We need to patiently trust our heaviness—even a bird must do this before it can fly.”  

    Trusting that the earth will support all of our weight, all of our heaviness, the physical pain and the mental anguish too, brings us to a place of feeling grounded, a place that’s ready to respond with wisdom and compassion, though this does take practice.

    Pulling away from our pain or ignoring a life difficulty is a kind of resistance, a fighting of gravity, and an easy habit that will not heal our difficulties.

    This tiring cycle of the push and pull of resistance makes everything difficult and takes a lot of energy, draining you of anything positive. It’s exhaustive like continuously having a really bad day.

    Resisting that all aspects of my life had changed made the changes much more emotionally painful.  Stuck in this place of denial, I was unable to connect in the ways that nurture deep friendships and that create authentic appreciation for life’s small pleasures.

    Recognizing the inner discomfort, it’s worth asking, “What am I resisting?” And even better “Do I want to be in acceptance mode or resistance drain?” And finally, “What is it that I need to accept?”

    We all hold onto some kind of emotional pain by pushing it away in an effort not to be hurt, which ultimately and ironically keeps this pain very close. But what would it take to let it go? What is it that wants to be acknowledged and ultimately accepted?

    And this pain, whether physical or emotional, leads to tight muscles and tight mental habits, a pattern of tenseness, a pattern of protectiveness that sucks the joy and spontaneity out of your life. Again, not much fun, not much pleasure. Trying harder and harder, like pulling on a necklace or shoestring that is knotted, will only make things worse.

    Embracing life, not just the edited parts of it but all of it, is a place of wisdom and grace. I can find this place sometimes in movement or in meditation, and often these are the same, because as quiet as your body/mind can get in meditation, at all times it is gently moving with every breath. This is the movement that grounds your learning into the very tissues and neurons that make you tick.

    If you can find your learning in the body, feel it in the body, you will not forget your experience or the glimpses of insight just discovered. The dancer Augusta Moore once told me “The breath is the music in the body.” I love this—the dance of life unfolding with each breath.

    So why do we try to hold on so tightly to what was, even though it creates nothing but frustration and pain?

    Once we find the means, whatever this might look like, it feels so damn good to drop the efforting, to accept, to fall apart a little, or perhaps a lot, and then move on, move forward with our new reality and all it has to offer. It can feel so good to allow this deep relaxing in the body, find that place of peace and feeling of liberation.

    And embracing life is what it is all about. We want to respond whole-heartedly, not with dullness or avoidance or anger. The danger lies in blocking too much of our self, guarding against the pain, the fears, or sense of being trapped in denial.

    Staying true to our entire experience allows us to loosen our responses, drop the guard, and be in a place of acceptance. As David Whyte writes, “The price of our vitality is the sum of all of our fears.”

    I have heard it said, and reluctantly have felt this truth, that the body cannot lie. So I invite you to find a quiet moment and listen deeply to what it is your body really wants to tell you, the inner wisdom it wants to share in healing; whether it’s an illness that has taken you down or a broken relationship that feels like it has left you stranded, your body/mind knows how to heal, and acceptance is the key to opening that door.

    With an open heart and a willing mind, really hear what your strongest ally, your body, wants you to know: that this partnership, between the mind and the body is a strong one, it is a relationship that will guide the winds of change with grace and ease. Acceptance helped me learn to listen within, and then trust what I heard, trust just what my personal world was asking me to respond to, and step peacefully forward into that vibrant flow of life.  

  • Your Emotions Will Not Drown You; They Will Save You

    Your Emotions Will Not Drown You; They Will Save You

    “You weren’t built to be calm, cool, and collected all the time. If you were, it wouldn’t feel so exhausting.”~Ryan O’Connell 

    There’s a lot of talk nowadays about “highly sensitive people” and “empaths.” It can be difficult for people who don’t relate to these labels to understand, or even believe what more sensitive folks experience. As a culture, we’re just beginning to grasp what sensitivity is and how to manage our energy.

    What Sensitivity Actually Is

    It’s easy to get caught up in cultural biases and stigmas concerning personality traits, and sensitivity has always been a part of that. This is why I believe it’s important to define sensitivity in the most objective way possible.

    Sensitivity is simply about attunement, which is a fancy word for how much attention your nervous system is paying. Sensitive folks have more highly attuned nervous systems than others.

    For this reason, our nervous systems are both in a position of advantage and vulnerability at the same time:

    1. You will likely be the first to recognize a genuine threat in the environment. That’s a great evolutionary adaptation! In other words, sensitive people are pretty much designed to outsmart danger and stay safe in the world. (Contrary to the stigma that sensitivity is weakness, sensitive people would probably make the best Jedis ever.)

    2. You will be more susceptible to stress-related symptoms, exhaustion, and mental health issues. In other words, threats that aren’t worth considering will still be considered threatening by the sensitive person because they may struggle with discernment.

    If my nervous system is signaling a threat, how am I supposed to ignore that?!

    Imagine tuning a guitar; as you turn the knob, you create a higher pitch. The string becomes tighter and the notes higher.

    I think this is the perfect metaphor for sensitivity, and one I discovered in college after reading the work of a troubled 1800s poet, Charles Baudelaire. He said, “My nerves are strung to such a pitch that they no longer give anything but piercing and painful vibrations.”

    He wrote this after describing a beautiful landscape he was looking at. He loves it, only, as he takes more and more of the scenery in, it begins to overwhelm him. His nervous system is easily overstimulated by the sights, even positive ones. Lacking the wisdom to glide with this energy, he is tormented by it.

    In all of my angsty college depression, I thought, “This guy gets it!”

    Back then, I was brand new to adulthood and had no idea how to use my sensitivity in any advantageous way. As a result, I developed chronic symptoms doctors couldn’t explain, did poorly in school, and attracted negative relationships with people who didn’t experience the world like I did.

    I simply believed there must be something wrong with me—and so all my efforts went toward fixing myself. I tried developing new skills, making new friends, and applying for various types of jobs. My assumption was that as soon as I figured out how to be “valuable” and well-liked, I’d finally be happy.

    But these pursuits never quite panned out. After college I found myself confused and depressed, and much like Baudelaire, tortured by my sensitivity to the world. I started looking elsewhere for answers and stumbled upon yoga and meditation for the first time.

    In the years following, I worked from home more and more, increasingly turned down parties and unfulfilling trips to the bar, and settled into a healing phase in which I kept to myself.

    The depth of this phase surprised me. There was so much baggage, so much pain to sort through, and so many confusing emotions to sit with. But the more I sat, the more the emotions spoke, revealing my guilt, grief, dissatisfaction, and many more realities I was unaware of. Life was hard because I wasn’t listening to their feedback.

    The more I let them speak, the more positive they became, inspiring new emotions and new behaviors that moved me forward in life.

    Wielding Your Power

    Thankfully, we no longer live in an age that demonizes sensitivity. We are, in many ways, free to arrange our lives in ways that support us, rather than pull us deeper into the currents of overwhelm.

    Imagine walking down the street and realizing that every little stimulus is an invitation—an invitation to feel an emotion, experience a memory, or share in the emotional stream of others’ conversations, etc.

    It’s no wonder sensitive people shut themselves away from the world! It’s so much easier to just avoid all stimuli and hyper-control your environment.

    Unfortunately, doing this 24/7 actually enables the sensitive person to avoid practicing their power. It helps us stay stuck.

    Imagine if Luke Skywalker simply said, “Man, the force is too draining! I think I’ll just stay inside forever.”

    As a newly awakened sensitive person, you may need to hibernate for a while. However, this is only part of the growth path.

    The tough truth is that those with highly attuned nervous systems must master emotion… or suffer. Mastering emotional fluency is an extremely fulfilling journey because you get to experience the full spectrum of human emotion. Whereas many people are just going through the motions, you feel everything, which gives you a unique power and ability to handle anything.

    But for those at the starting line, it can seem like a punishment.

    Why me?

    How to Master Emotional Fluency

    It is unlikely that any of the following points I make will shock you. In fact, they may frustrate you because you already know them. They’re just so hard to implement!

    The thing is, the human nervous system has evolved through many, many centuries. This means that the patterns you are now trying to change or guide in your body are very well established.

    It’s important to not look at this as you trying to work against or change your tendency to become stimulated in uncomfortable ways. When people get caught up in this mentality, they adopt the notion that they are unwell, victims of their own bodies, broken and powerless to direct their own lives.

    As someone who has been through that pain, I want to tell you: That is so far from the reality of your situation.

    You are not here to make yourself less sensitive. You are not here to be like everyone around you.

    You are here to:

    1. Heal your own recurring trauma patterns so that you can lighten the load for your nervous system.

    In essence, this means reducing unnecessary triggers that disrupt your day and cause a full-body stress response. Start to notice things that continuously upset you and catch yourself in those moments. Simply stop and watch the reaction. What specific emotions create a downward spiral in your day?

    It will help you to write down each time you feel triggered so the underlying issues can slowly reveal themselves. For example, you may find that each time you feel anxiety, you’re in a crowded space, or you recall the same painful memory. (This is not only lightening the load on your nervous system, but your adrenals and hormones as well.)

    2. Start cleaning house—what has to go?

    Whereas step 1 is about past trauma that keeps haunting us, this step is about recurring present-day stressors. These have the same, if not more of a detrimental effect on you because they influence daily stress levels.

    This step often takes sensitive folks the longest because they must find ways to restructure their lives (leaving behind toxic relationships and jobs, letting go of old routines, etc.) This may require creativity and outside-the-box thinking because the world is currently designed for less sensitive people, which research shows is the majority.

    Grabbing a stimulating coffee, running off to a stressful job, taking care of your kids with little support, eating stimulating foods—all of this stimulation is “normal,” but for you, it is not sustainable. These habits will lead you in a downward spiral of mental and physical exhaustion.

    For me, this meant finding more flexible jobs that didn’t demand much from me emotionally. Inevitably, it also meant distancing myself from people who were not right for me – even when it was painful to do so.

    3. Rebuild, rebuild, rebuild.

    Begin welcoming in that which fuels you, and begin creating a life that is lighter, simpler, and freer. This life will lack drama that distracts you from who you are. By learning and exploring what matters to you, you will move closer and closer to a reality of true joy.

    Your heightened emotions can come along with you in this new life. Only, you will experience a new side to them—the positive. You will finally begin to feel the ups along with the downs, and it will reveal how more and better was always possible for you.

    This is a slow, challenging process, and by no means have I reached the finish line. For me, refueling has been about getting back to the root who I am and moving toward my genuine goals without rushing myself. The rebuilding phase is all about how you spend your time. Do what feels replenishing and step away from what feels draining.

    No matter how many hurdles you see ahead, you have more power than them. You are not here to bear the weight of society’s chaos. You are here to bring it into order so your sensitivity can work for you, not against you.

    Are you ready to begin?

  • When It’s Hard To Be True To Yourself, Remember These 7 Things

    When It’s Hard To Be True To Yourself, Remember These 7 Things

    “Sometimes when you’re in a dark place, you think you’ve been buried, but you’ve actually been planted.” ~Christine Caine

    The phrase “personal growth” has always felt counterintuitive to me. Personal growth feels less like growth and more like stripping away—of peeling back the expectations, fears, and shame that we’ve been conditioned with since birth. Beneath these layers lies our truest nature—our inner divinity—our most aligned selves. I view my work on this Earth as getting as close to that aligned self as I can.

    Despite the barrage of positive affirmations and uplifting memes encouraging us to “live our truth,” learning to live in alignment can be deeply uncomfortable. Hundreds of requisite growing pains accompany the process. We shed skins that no longer serve us, which at first leaves us raw and exposed.

    Over the years, I’ve worked to break addictive patterns and speak my truth against enormous inner resistance. When I began to live in alignment, I experienced seismic discomforts. This new territory was entirely uncharted, and with it came bouts of newfound anxiety, fear, and hyper-sensitivity.

    I worried that these unpleasant emotions were signs of “doing it wrong.” Of course, judging my reactions only exacerbated my discomfort—which eventually passed, on its own, in time.

    At first, living in alignment is tough. It gets harder before it gets easier. Here are eight reminders to help you trust your gut and keep going.

    1. It’s normal to break up with partners, friends, and acquaintances.

    Living in alignment looks different for everyone. For me, it largely meant quitting drinking, changing careers, and setting firmer boundaries around my time, space, and body. The first thing I noticed was how many of my relationships—relationships that fit like puzzle pieces with the old me—now felt inauthentic, empty, or downright wrong.

    One of the most important parts of my journey was leaving relationships that no longer served me. This meant  “breaking up” with four to five friends over the course of a few months, a process that left me feeling guilty and lonesome at first.

    The flipside? Now, relationships formed on the basis of people-pleasing, codependency, obligation, and guilt are not a part of my life. These “breakups” leave room for authentic, nourishing, reciprocal relationships to blossom. Be patient as they form.

    2. It’s normal to feel a boatload of guilt.

    For me, living in alignment meant giving up old people-pleasing behaviors. Suddenly, I wasn’t the person who others could count on to go along with the flow. I spoke up. I set boundaries. I stayed in when I wanted to stay in, cancelled plans when I needed to, and set non-negotiable expectations for my relationships.

    In other words, I no longer prioritized other people’s comfort over my own feelings.

    If you’re not used to putting your own needs first, doing so can spark an avalanche of guilt. You might feel unforgivably selfish. You might wonder if you’re a bad friend/mother/colleague/[insert role here].

    Guilt in the early stage of living in alignment is totally normal. Understanding this helps you to notice and accept the guilt instead of reacting to it. Talk through it with trusted friends, a coach, or a therapist. Learn what it feels like in your body. Write about it in your journal. Over time, meeting your own needs will feel second-nature.

    3. It’s normal to feel hyper-sensitive and/or need more solitude.

    Giving credence to my feelings, emotions, and needs was like breaking a dam. Once they started flooding, they keptflooding. And flooding. And flooding.

    By honoring my anger, I began to realize how painful certain relationships felt. By honoring my need for time and space, I began to realize how energetically draining some environments were. By honoring the ebbs and flows of my body, I began to notice when I needed more sleep or a change to my diet.

    As a result of these sensitivities, I needed more time to myself, more naps, fewer plans, and more space to process my emotions via journaling and meditation. At first, this baffled me. I thought living in alignment with my inner self would make me feel more resilient…. not less!

    Keep in mind that what feels like “hyper-sensitivity” may just be “sensitivity,” and it is a completely normal reaction. You are giving your feelings and needs space to surface, maybe for the first time ever. You might be surprised by how many feelings you have—or by how forcefully they arise—when they’re no longer under lock and key.

    4. It’s normal to freak out after setting a boundary or speaking a difficult truth.

    Once, shortly after I’d made the decision to quit drinking, a housemate of mine made a rude, taunting comment about my sobriety. Instead of brushing it off, I turned to him and said forcefully, “That was really inappropriate. I don’t appreciate it.”

    I had never stood up for myself so confidently. I went upstairs to my bedroom with a grin, feeling righteous and strong. Five minutes later found me hunched over in a sobbing fit. Everything in my body screamed, “You are mean! You’re an *sshole! Take it back!”

    In a frenzy, I ran down the stairs, threw open my housemate’s bedroom door, and gasped “I’m-so-sorry-I-said-that-I-got-out-of-hand-Please-forgive-me.” He accepted my apology, bewildered, and thirty minutes later, back in my bedroom, I threw up my hands in frustration.

    Yes, I redacted an appropriate boundary. Yes, I confused the hell out of my housemate. And yes —it was progress.Baby steps, baby.

    It’s totally normal to freak out after setting a boundary. If you grew up in an environment where you were punished or neglected when you expressed your true feelings, learning the art of honest expression is a radical act. In adulthood, your heart, mind, and nervous system is learning how to process, hold, and express difficult emotions. Fear may accompany this process,  especially fear of retaliation or fear of abandonment.

    Remember: the simple act of setting a boundary may feel like an enormous emotional upheaval. You’ve just done some serious emotional work. After setting a challenging boundary, hold yourself with compassion in those moments and give yourself permission to rest and recuperate. With time, your muscle of authentic expression will strengthen.

    5. It’s normal to experience previously unaddressed trauma.

    When I lived out of alignment, I drank too much, slept around, and chased the reckless highs of my compulsions. In hindsight, it’s easy to understand that, because my reality was so painful, I used any means possible to escape it. Unfortunately, when I began to live in alignment, I realized that the means I had used to numb my pain were painful, too.

    My body and heart carried the scars of my compulsions gone awry. Living in alignment meant giving those buried pains and traumas voice. I was bewildered when my healing journey became home to unexpected triggers, panic attacks, and hypersensitivities. At first, I felt more broken than I’d felt before.

    Little did I know that part of healing it was feeling it in the first place—something I’d never let myself do. As they say: it gets dark before the dawn.

    Especially if you find yourself experiencing previously unaddressed trauma, seek support from your partner, friends, or a therapist. Letting your trauma surface and heal allows you to integrate the many parts of your story that may have been disparate and disconnected before. This is part of your journey to wholeness.

    6. It’s normal to get angry AF.

    For years, I shrunk myself for the sake of others’ comfort. I hid my voice. I settled for less. I participated in imbalanced relationships. I stomached unkindness.

    When I began to live in alignment, I started to see with new eyes all the s%&# I’d settled for over the years. I became resentful and enraged. I felt white-hot anger toward the individuals who had taken advantage of me.

    Like a captive animal released from her cage, I pounced with a vengeance. I vented to my friends. I shook my fist. I wrote searing poetry and wrathful songs. I let it out.

    That anger was holy. It was the righteous indignation of my innermost self coming alive. Over time, feeling it and expressing it led me to an equilibrium: I could hold my anger while also understanding the part I’d played in subjecting myself to these toxic patterns.

    Honor your anger. It will not annihilate you. The more familiar you become with your resentment, the more you can use it as a signpost to set boundaries in the future.

     7. It’s normal for your dreams to shift rapidly.

    As we strip away our conditioning and get in touch with our innermost selves, dreams that others have for us lose their glossy appeal. We may find ourselves bucking opportunities for fame, fortune, and legacy in favor of dreams that illuminate us from within. Our intrinsic desires become paramount.

    That sounds awesome—in theory. But when it happened to me, I had a major identity crisis. I had spent countless hours, thousands of dollars, and a college education following a very specific dream of a career in politics. For years, I’d told anyone who would listen that my dream job was a seat in the Senate. Without this societally sanctioned goal, who would I become?

    Especially for those of us who live out of touch with our innermost selves, we rely heavily on external roles and rewards to feel a sense of purpose and identity. As we begin to live in alignment, those external rewards begin to matter less. Sometimes, we realize we never really wanted them at all.

    It’s normal if your dreams, desires, career, or values shift rapidly. It’s normal if your work suddenly feels deflating, boring, or downright awful. It’s normal if you suddenly feel the need to quit your venture or back out on your business plan. It’s normal to cease your involvement in organizations, boards, or volunteer roles that no longer resonate with you.

    You’re not being impulsive. You’re not “wasting” anything. You’re not crazy. You are adjusting your external world to align with your newfound inner world — and that is an act of self-love and self-respect.

    —

    Despite my work as a life coach and my proclivity for collecting self-help books, the best piece of advice I’ve ever gotten is, simply: You’re right where you’re supposed to be.

    So often, we get in our own way by judging our (very valid) reactions to unfamiliar circumstances. In a culture that lauds the shiny, happy, green-smoothie version of personal growth, we forget that self-care can be fearful, anxious, and downright painful.

    Keep going. That fear, anxiety, and pain is all part of your process. Hold it with compassion and watch who you become when you reach the other side.

  • I Refuse to Inherit My Parents’ Pain and Problems

    I Refuse to Inherit My Parents’ Pain and Problems

    “I wonder how much of what weighs me down is not mine to carry.” ~Aditi

    My dad once told me about his early experiences with my mother’s parents. He shared that he knew right from the start that there was something extremely off with them.

    They were an elderly couple who would constantly curse at one another, belittle and embarrass each in front of others, and yell hate-filled words such as “I hate you,” “I wish you were dead,” and “I’d be better off without you.” He said the fighting would get so aggressive, that sometimes the police had to be called to the house to intervene.

    When my dad finished his story, he sat back and sort of chuckled at the craziness of it all, while I sat there in silent shock and horror. Those were all the things my mother said to me.

    No one else could have known that, because I had never told anyone what really went on at my mother’s house.

    It was the first time I realized that emotional and verbal abuse could be handed down from generation to generation, without anyone ever realizing it.

    My Mother’s Mistakes

    My mother treated me my whole life as if my thoughts, feelings, and even physical condition were invisible, or at least weren’t important.

    She was cruel with her words and calculating with her actions. But the real damage she did couldn’t be seen on the surface, because it went straight to the core of my very existence. She made me believe that who I was and how I felt didn’t matter, and that it truly was a mistake for me to be here.

    I grew up with a vague sense that I was meant to be on the outside of life and love. Destined to always get close, but never able to grasp, or experience it for myself.  Her rage and neglect created a deep loneliness within me, and a longing to mean something to someone.

    My romantic relationships were deep, intense love affairs that were often one-sided. I found myself genuinely wrapped up in the emotion, attention, and affection of it all.

    When the relationship ended, I was borderline traumatized. I couldn’t understand why I couldn’t let go. I blamed myself for every possible mistake and went to humiliating lengths to get some of them back.

    And this type of behavior wasn’t only specific to my romantic relationships. I had a trail of broken friendships where my clingy tendencies also reared its ugly head. I was possessive, over-protective, emotionally needy, and easily prone to feeling left out.

    In my subconscious quest for self-acceptance and self-love, I couldn’t see that I was eroding all my relationships, romantic and friendly, from the inside out.

    My Father’s Faults

    What my mother lacked in love, my father made up for with aggressive behavior and shame.

    My father always wanted to be somebody and felt the best way to achieve a sense of self- importance and self-worth was through the workplace. He wanted everyone around him to see how smart he was, that he was natural born leader, and that he could get the job done and make the place all the better for it.

    This need caused him to constantly be in and out of work. Taking on highly powerful positions, only to be asked to leave within a few months due to his over-aggressive and in your face management style.

    He blamed us for his defeats, asserting that he was putting himself through this because “having kids wasn’t cheap, and neither was paying all that child support to your mother!”

    His failures became our faults, and I would spend my adult career trying to rectify them. Trying to find my own sense of importance and value through my career.

    At work, I was an over-achiever and aggressive power-player. It wasn’t even about the money. It was about the sense of self-importance, attention, and validation it gave me. All the things I didn’t have as a child and didn’t know I was searching for as an adult.

    I went from job to job, always leaving for the same reasons¾ “I was overworked and overlooked.” I blamed the industry, the people, the work culture, the office politics, but never myself. My failures were everyone else’s faults, and so the cycle continued until I was out of work, out of money and without a professional ally in the world.

    Repair and Rebuild

    I used to believe that when I turned eighteen and moved away from my parents the pain and abuse would all be over, but instead, it continued to live on in me, and through me, for many years.

    Although my parents had different problems, the result was still the same. Both parents left me struggling with a loss of identity, and a compulsory need for attention, love, and validation.

    Far from escaping my past, I found myself reliving and repeating its most painful parts in the two areas of my life that had ever given me any sense of meaning and purpose¾ my relationships and my career.

    Every bad emotion I had tried to avoid, everything I was trying to escape from as a child—the loneliness, the fear, the isolation—somehow became the foundation of my adult existence.

    My mother’s mistakes and my father’s faults became the core of my identity. Worst of all, I was completely unaware. I felt like I was acting according to my own desires and needs, but I was really just acting out, following a set of behaviors that I had learned as a child.

    I was driven by unseen emotional needs, and it would take many years for me to find a combination of therapeutic and self-help techniques to carve out a life for myself that was a reflection of my own thoughts, feelings, and hopes.

    Starting with acceptance and accountability, I began the long process of undoing my childhood emotional damage.

    I accepted that I had no control over my parents’ decisions, actions, and how they chose to treat me as a child.

    I embraced personal accountability, in that while it was not my fault what happened to me as a child, as an adult, my behavior and my actions were my choice.

    Once I took responsibility, I was able to separate what was mine to carry and what was mine to let go.

    In my mid-thirties, for the first time in my life, I began to discover who I really was, the things I did and didn’t like, who I could be, and more importantly, who I wanted to be.

    I had always sought out leadership roles in companies, not because I was a natural born leader, but because I had a deep-seated need for attention and admiration.

    I found that in both my romantic relationships and personal friendships, there were many times I didn’t agree, but I went along with it, because my need to be loved was much stronger than my need to be me.

    After my career was over, I took a small part-time job working on an assembly line. It wasn’t much, but it was everything to me. It was my chance to rebuild and repair my shattered sense of self.

    It gave a me chance to figure out what I really wanted.

    Did I really want this high-powered, all-consuming career? Did I really want these intense love-affairs that ended just as quickly as they began? Or, were their other avenues of finding personal and professional happiness out there?

    —

    Our parents’ mistakes do not have to be ours.

    My mother was emotionally abused and neglected as a child, and she handed that legacy down by creating the same home in which she grew up for her own children.

    My father was overlooked, undermined, and overall cast aside as a child, and he too passed this on to his children.

    Painful legacies can repeat themselves if we are not careful to do the inner work necessary to stop the cycle.

    Parents can unwittingly imbue us with their faults and characteristics. We become the dumping ground for unresolved emotions, lost opportunities, and broken dreams. We unknowingly carry our parents’ problems, and even their abuses.

    Even now today I still struggle with these problems, but being constantly aware of them gives me hope that I will one day be able to live my life not as product of my past, but as the person I know I am capable of being.

  • What Helps Me Put Things in Perspective

    What Helps Me Put Things in Perspective

    “The fact that we live at the bottom of a deep gravity well, on the surface of a gas covered planet going around a nuclear fireball 90 million miles away and think this to be normal is obviously some indication of how skewed our perspective tends to be.” ~Douglas Adams

    The Buddha famously said that life is full of suffering. While I acknowledge there is much suffering in the world, for my privileged life in the West, I like to think of it more as life being full of challenges. You see, sometimes the suffering part is optional.

    Now again, I’m not talking about war, famine, trauma or other life-threatening or intolerable living situations. I’m talking about your regular developed world problems.

    The hot water stopped working.
    The subway is over-crowded.
    Your child has the flu.
    You didn’t get the job we thought we deserved.
    Your friend isn’t talking to you.
    You can’t afford a new car.

    Those regular sort of problems that we encounter on a regular basis that interrupt our well-being. We get annoyed by them, ruminate about them, and make them bigger than they need to be. Our minds tend to go straight to the negative, and that is usually to beat ourselves up in some way or predict the worst-case scenario.

    Suddenly our temporary irritation becomes a BIG problem.

    I’ll never find a plumber who is reliable.
    I hate this subway ride—I can’t keep doing this.
    How am I going to keep my job if I have to keep taking days off? What if it is something more serious?
    I’ll never find a good job.
    I’m a terrible friend / they’re a terrible friend.
    I need more money.

    Our brains are incredibly unhelpful. We have this negative bias that is designed to keep us safe, a useful characteristic for our ancestors, but not so functional in these modern times. We don’t need our minds to play out to the worst possible outcome and we certainly don’t need it to keep reminding us of our perceived inadequacies.

    I was reminded of this recently when I had a falling out with my youngest child. I kept replaying it over and over in my head.

    What if we never sort this out?
    What if she doesn’t want a close relationship with me anymore?
    Where did I go wrong in my parenting that she could behave like this?
    She hates me!
    I am a bad mother.

    Yep. Over and over again in my head either going to worst case scenario or beating myself up.

    And all the while making the situation much worse than it needed to be.

    And then I remembered: A problem is only a problem when we decide it’s a problem. 

    We could also decide it’s not a big deal.

    It was time to get some perspective.

    I made a choice to get out my own head and take a step back. And then I asked myself the following questions:

    What would my best friend tell me about this situation?
    She would tell me that my daughter is stressed and tends to get emotional when she is stressed. She would tell me not to take it personally.

    What would I tell my best friend if they were going through this?
    I would tell her that her daughter is a teenager behaving like a teenager and we don’t have to go to every argument we are invited to. I would reassure her that this is a small issue that will be resolved quickly.

    What would someone you admire say about this?
    This too shall pass…

    What would a judge and a jury tell you?
    You have a good relationship and this is just a small matter.

    Is this going to matter in five minutes, five days, five months, five years from now?
    Yes, no, no, no.

    Suddenly I felt much better. Putting it into perspective and getting outside views on the situation is so helpful in getting our minds back to the real issues. And removing ourselves from the situation has a way of really allowing us to see what is important and what it not.

    And it allows us to reduce the size of the problem significantly.

    However, to me, that only goes so far.

    I like to keep moving further and further back.

    And I remind myself of the following reality:

    We live on a little blue planet literally in the middle of nowhere. I don’t know how we got here but whatever your beliefs, it is some kind of miracle.

    We are the perfect distance from the sun to have temperatures that we can not only survive but thrive in.

    And this planet we get to live on is truly magnificent. If someone asked me to create a planet for humans to live on that was not only life -sustaining but also the most beautiful planet imaginable, I could not create something more magnificent than Earth.

    If that weren’t enough, we get to live in the 21st century. Imagine how much more difficult life would have been for us if we had been born 100 years earlier? 200 years earlier? It’s difficult to fathom the hardships we would have had to go through just to survive.

    And if you’re still not convinced that that is enough, think about this:  If you are reading this you have access to a computer and the internet, something most of the world does not.

    You are probably living in a somewhat developed country where clean water, fresh food and shelter are all in abundant supply.  You also probably don’t have to worry about war, famine or natural disasters on a regular basis.

    In other words, you have won the lottery. The only lottery that really matters, anyway.

    And the opportunities that come with that privilege are mind-blowing. 

    We can do anything we want in this life.

    We are free to choose any life we can imagine.

    I don’t know how we got here or why we are here, but one thing is for sure, I’m going to hang on and enjoy the ride.

    Suddenly the petty distractions of life become even pettier.

    Do I really want to be arguing with my daughter?

    Do I really need to make a big deal out of this?

    And the bigger question: Do we really want to waste this life worrying about things that don’t really matter?

    I know what my answer will always be…

  • Finding the Courage to Go After What You Want Out of Life

    Finding the Courage to Go After What You Want Out of Life

    “Just because you’re not doing what other people are doing, that doesn’t mean you’re failing or falling behind. You’re charting your own course and staying true to yourself, even though it would be easier to join the crowd. You’re creating a life you can fall in love with instead of falling in line. You’re finding the courage to do what’s right for you, even though it’s uncertain and scary and hard. Give yourself some credit, because these are all reasons to be proud.” ~Lori Deschene

    I wouldn’t call myself a laid-back person. I have anxiety that leads me to catastrophize, and I struggle with perfectionism. That said, I do pride myself on being a person who’s able to go with the flow, who’s open to just about anything—a person who is, in a word, agreeable.

    Where do you want to go to lunch? I’m okay with whatever. Which movie should we watch? I can probably find something to enjoy in most of them. What should we do this weekend? I don’t know; what do you want to do?

    If I have a really strong opinion about something, I’ll speak up, but what I really enjoy is being in the company of people I care about. I’m usually most happy when everybody around me is happy. As far as I’m concerned, the details of what we’re doing don’t matter as much as the fact that we’re doing it together.

    This attitude is rooted in a number of different things.

    For one, I was raised in a mid-sized, West Coast, seaside town where slow movement and a languid approach to decision making were part of the local culture.

    In addition, I usually took on the role of passive peacemaker in my family of origin, making sure the stress level was manageable for all involved by avoiding conflict at every turn.

    Finally, I grew up immersed in a religion that believed humans were inherently bad and it was essential for each of us to follow God’s will, as opposed to our own, in any given moment.

    Thanks to this combination of influences, I learned to tune out my own desires (to the point where, after a while, I couldn’t even hear them anymore) and take every reasonable opportunity offered to me as a potential good.

    I have rarely said “No” in my life—not because I didn’t want to be offensive or hurtful, but because I didn’t want to miss out on what that experience might have to offer. And, there’s also the fact that I had no trust in my own imagination or sense of personal direction.

    These aren’t always bad traits to have. I’ve met a lot of interesting people, seen a lot of gorgeous places, and tried some very unique foods (fried sheep brains, anyone?) because I was open to what the people around me had in mind. Deferring to the whims of others can have its perks.

    Plus, it is true that sometimes other people know better than we do about certain things. I’ve found myself on many an unexpected but fruitful detour in my life thanks to an idea someone else gave me that I never would have thought of myself.

    Of course, there are also some major drawbacks to letting life just happen. The biggest one for me is the fact that I don’t get much closer to my goals and dreams when I’m ready to say yes to whatever invitation or opportunity comes along.

    Much like wandering around a big, unknown city with no map in hand will lead you to some novel experiences but is not a good way to get you to all of the places you actually want to see, going through life open to every option you’re offered might lead to some fun times but it can also leave you standing nowhere in particular in the end.

    And I don’t know about you, but I want to be somewhere in particular. I want to be a full-time artist. More specifically, I want to be a full-time writer.

    It’s a destiny that’s been calling me ever since I was young. When I was in middle school, my humanities teacher was so taken with a writing project I did that she went out of her way to tell my parents about my talent. I won the all-school writing day scholarship prize when I was a senior in high school. Imagining the future of our class on graduation day, our valedictorian gave a speech that listed a handful of students by name and their predicted successes. “Grete Howland,” he said, alongside the words “famous author.”

    I was surprised to hear it. I was not a popular kid—there was no reason for him to think of, let alone mention, me out of the hundreds of people with whom I graduated on that day. Unless I really was that good. Unless this was something that was feasible for me.

    However, like I said before, I am not the kind of person who’s inclined to choose a goal, set a path toward it, and make decisions that will keep me on that path until I reach my intended destination. As much as I felt flattered, it didn’t occur to me that what my classmate said on that day to the hundreds of people gathered was something I could try to make a reality with a little bit of confidence and some good old fashioned planning.

    Life just went on. I did study English in college, but only because it was what I loved most, not because I had a specific use for the degree in mind. Out of college I moved back to my hometown and worked a mind-numbing data entry job while I figured out what I wanted to do next.

    Traveling the world seemed exciting, and I knew friends who belonged to a global missionary organization who got to do it. Still very much devout to my faith at that point in my life, I applied for the program, raised the money, and then spent six months in New Zealand, Australia and Vanuatu just doing what I was told by the people who were leading the trip.

    When I returned to the States, I was once more directionless. Graduate school seemed like a natural next step, and I had a few friends in seminary, so, yet again, I poured a lot of time and money into an interesting thing I saw the people around me doing while having no particular goal in mind.

    The only thing I knew when I graduated from seminary was that I wanted to keep living in the community I’d formed during my time there, so I found a job close by and stayed in southern California. That job, as an administrative assistant at a small independent school, was particularly fortuitous because I fell in love with their progressive philosophy and decided that I wanted to teach English. Thankfully, a position opened up, and I set off on what would end up being a 7-year foray into middle school education.

    There are no words to express the love and gratitude I have for the time I spent in those classrooms and the relationships I developed with students and colleagues. I witnessed seventh and eighth graders find their voices, discover deep connections across multiple subjects, and develop passionate convictions about social justice. At the same time, I also discovered after a few years that pouring all of my mental, emotional, and physical energy into helping others become better writers and thinkers left me too depleted to work on my own creative writing outside of my job.

    I adored teaching, and took pride in the identity of “teacher.” But I also had to consider whether I really wanted that to be my vocation forever, working in service of others’ creativity at the expense of my own. Half-done writing projects were whispering in my ear, calling me back to them, asking me to forgo my pleasant but aimless wandering in favor of a strategic path of my own.

    So I did it. Earlier this year, I walked away from teaching with the goal of finding a job that leaves space for my writing to flourish. It was a decision both scary and exciting. And even though I’m still learning to have the courage not to settle for any job I can get simply because it feels safe, I know I made the right move.

    Thankfully, my spouse and some very wise friends have kept me accountable to holding out for what will move me forward on my journey. As they encourage me to make space for my destiny, despite all the risks, I am beginning to see the value in identifying and prioritizing my own dreams and desires. I think I’m finally starting to believe in my own potential—or at least believe that exploring it is worth an honest try.

    It can be very comforting to take on the role of being the agreeable one. There’s no risk of rejection or failure when you’re happy to do what everyone else is doing, and when you’re willing to take whatever life hands you without holding out for more. What if more never comes?

    Taking the time to consider what you really want for yourself is scary because it can feel like a good opportunity might pass you by. But the other side of that is the fact that you can just as easily miss out on something better because you decided too soon, because you didn’t have the faith that you’d actually be able to achieve what it is you really want.

    So be flexible, yes. Be open-minded. Be selfless where it counts. But don’t make a habit out of letting other people make decisions for you. Don’t live your life settling for what’s in front of you just because it’s there.

    Take the time to learn what it is you want to do with your life. Chart a course toward it, and go. Get somewhere in particular, or as close as you possibly can. Practice being picky. This is your life, after all.

  • How to Set Boundaries in Awkward Situations with Strangers

    How to Set Boundaries in Awkward Situations with Strangers

    “Boundaries aren’t about punishing. Boundaries are about creating safety for yourself.” ~Sheri Keffer

    The person sitting beside you at the bar keeps talking to you despite your obvious disinterest. The flirty Uber driver mentions—three times—how beautiful you are. Your cousin’s new boyfriend gives you a too-long hug with wandering hands.

    In awkward situations with strangers, we tend to hope that non-verbal cues will be sufficient to set a boundary. We use silence, crossed arms, uncomfortable laughter, and glares to communicate discomfort. But some folks cannot—or will not—take the hint.

    Here, we find ourselves at a crossroads: We can either set clear verbal boundaries or tolerate the uncomfortable behavior indefinitely.

    For the longest time, I struggled to set boundaries in awkward situations with strangers. Throughout childhood, I was taught how to be kind, nice, and open-minded—but never how to have difficult conversations and advocate for myself. I worried that setting firm boundaries was mean, so I tolerated uncomfortable behavior in silence, which allowed the awkward situations to escalate even further.

    Eventually, I realized that setting firm boundaries is a form of verbal self-defense. It is our responsibility to advocate for, and protect, our time and space.

    My goal for this article is to demystify the process of boundary-setting and offer concrete suggestions of language you can use to be clear and direct. These are phrases I’ve crafted, edited, and re-crafted over years of boundary-setting practice. My hope is to help you make awkward situations as not awkward as possible.

    Before we dive in, let’s get clear on five key principles for boundary-setting:

    1. When we refuse to set a boundary, we prioritize other people’s comfort over our own needs. Setting boundaries is a courageous act of putting ourselves first. It’s a great way to break the people-pleasing habit and practice the art of self-care and verbal self-defense.

    2. Difficult honesty is not unkindness. It’s not mean to stand up for yourself. It’s actually the most truthful and authentic way to interact with others.

    3. You can manage your boundaries or manage other people’s feelings, but you can’t do both. The bottom line is, your boundaries might make people feel frustrated or resentful. That burden is not yours to bear. As the saying goes, “The only people who get upset about you setting boundaries are the ones who benefited from you having none.”

    4. It’s not your job to protect people from feeling uncomfortable. Remember: the folks imposing on your space aren’t giving your comfort a second thought—so don’t twist yourself into knots trying to protect their feelings. As Registered Clinical Counselor Jordan Pickell says, “It makes sense for people to feel bad and weird when they have crossed a line.”

    5. Safety first. If you ever feel unsafe or threatened, do whatever you need to do to get to safety. Don’t be a boundary-setting hero.

    For consistency, the examples below use “Bob” as the generic name of our boundary-violator. However, folks of all genders, ages, races, etc., violate boundaries.

    Certain suggested phrases are direct and firm. Others are lighter and playful. Experiment with the language to find the tone that works best for you.

    Case #1: The Handsy Hugger

    Maybe it’s an eager fan who approaches you after an open mic performance. Maybe it’s your step brother’s uncle who you see twice a year at family barbecues.

    Handsy Huggers comes in many shapes and forms, but they all have one thing in common: they hug you for an uncomfortably long time with wandering hands.

    My recommendation: In a scenario that runs the risk of uncomfortable physical contact, it’s better to avoid a hug altogether. Next time a Handsy Hugger approaches you, give yourself permission not to enter his outstretched arms. Hang back, offer a smile (or not), and when he looks at you quizzically, say, “I’m not in the mood for a hug today, Bob.” In the next breath, redirect the conversation to literally any other topic.

    Case #2: The Flirty Uber Driver

    I have been asked, by two separate Uber drivers, if I would consider marrying them. I’ve sat in the backseat as Uber drivers have commented on how much they liked my clothing and eyed me from the rearview.

    When you’re in someone’s Uber, you can’t exactly escape to the ladies room. Some drivers will continue bantering with you even if you put headphones on and stare blankly out the window.

    My recommendation: Depending on your mood, you can use a casual or direct approach.

    • Casual: “It’s been nice talking with you, but I’ve had a long day and don’t really feel like talking right now.”

    • Direct: “To be honest, your comments are making me uncomfortable. I’d prefer not to talk right now.”

    (Note: If your rideshare driver makes you feel unsafe or threatened, report them through the app immediately.)

    Case #3: The Non-Stop Texter

    You meet a nice man named Bob at the bar or on a hike. You exchange numbers. Within hours, your phone begins buzzing. Bob asks you a litany of questions. He sends a greeting every morning. Throughout the day, your phone erupts with Bob’s favorite Youtube videos of tap-dancing cats.

    You don’t reply, but your silence doesn’t deter Bob from sending text after text after text. You consider ignoring his messages wholesale, but you’re concerned that if you run into Bob in public, you’ll feel guilty and awkward.

    My recommendation: Despite the rising popularity of cell phone boundaries, some folks seem to feel entitled to your time and space via your inbox. They’re not. You’ve got two options:

    • If you hope to keep this person as a friend but adjust how often you text, try this: “Bob, I like to have healthy boundaries with my phone and I’m not interested in texting this often. Next time we meet up, let’s have a conversation about our expectations for communicating when we’re not together.”

    • If you feel overwhelmed and want to cut the cord entirely, try this: “Bob, I’m not open to a friendship with you at this time. You’ve been reaching out a lot recently and I feel overwhelmed by it. I have no hard feelings toward you and I wish you the best.”

    Case #4: The Person At the Bar Who Won’t Stop Talking To You Despite Your Obvious Disinterest

    I like to write in my journal at bars. I’m a sober lady and I don’t drink, but I love feeling comfortably anonymous in a social atmosphere.

    Despite my hunched posture, downcast eyes, and scribbling hand, many a barstool neighbor attempts to strike up a conversation with me. The first one or two questions are fine—a pleasantry, really—but often, my bar neighbor will continue on, chatting at me despite my obvious disinterest.

    I can’t count the number of times I have diverted my eyes and offered muttered “uh huhs” and “yeahs” before throwing a twenty onto the bar and escaping into the night, feeling resentful.

    My recommendation: Especially when alcohol might be involved, it’s best to set a firm boundary as clearly and directly as possible. Turn to your barstool neighbor and say, “I appreciate the chance to chat, but I don’t feel like talking right now.”

    Case #5: The “Harmless Older Person”

    Ah, yes. The older lady or gentleman who uses your age difference to justify being “harmlessly flirty” with you. Any of this sound familiar?

    • “If I was your age, I’d have swept you off your feet by now!”

    • “You’re a real beauty, you know that?”

    • “I just love the sight of a spry young man.”

    • “As my father used to say: Just ‘cuz you’re married doesn’t mean you stop lookin’.”

    It doesn’t matter if the speaker is 20 or 200—if someone’s flirtation makes you uncomfortable, you have every right to shut that commentary down.

    My recommendation: Keep it simple. Try this: “I know you’re trying to be kind, but please don’t make comments like that. They make me feel uncomfortable.”

    Case #6: The Uninvited Mansplainer

    There’s nothing quite like the particular fury of having a man 1) assume you know nothing about a certain topic because you’re a woman, 2) explain said topic authoritatively, indefinitely.

    Merriam Webster defines mansplaining as “when a man talks condescendingly to someone (especially a woman) about something he has incomplete knowledge of, with the mistaken assumption that he knows more about it than the person he’s talking to does.”

    Ladies, you might be familiar with mansplaining if you’ve ever bought strings at a guitar store, watched a sporting match, or discussed anything related to cars, electronics, or grilling. Opportunities for mansplaining abound.

    My recommendation: Make it clear that not only do you know this information already, but you’d really like them to stop. Try this: “I’m really familiar with (insert topic here) and I don’t need any more information. Thanks anyway.”

    Case #7: The Personal Space Invader

    You’re standing on the subway, or in the check-out line, or at the club, and someone’s body is too close for comfort. Maybe it’s intentional, which is creepy. Perhaps they aren’t aware of the space they’re occupying. Regardless, you’re not enjoying their front near your back / the smell of their breath / their odor.

    It’s time to set a boundary.

    My recommendation: “Excuse me, could you please move back and give me some space? Thanks.”

    Case #8: “Can I Have Your Number?”

    You’ve been chatting with a stranger, Bob, for a few minutes. As he gets up to leave, he asks for your number. You’re not into it.

    This circumstance tends to elicit boundary-white-lies, such as “Sorry, but I have a partner,” or “Oh, I don’t give out my phone number to strangers.”

    I understand that white lies might be your most comfortable entry point into boundary-setting. I am, at heart, a boundary-setting pragmatist. That said, when you’re ready, experiment with a firmer approach. It might be scary, but it will certainly be empowering.

    My recommendation: “I’ve enjoyed chatting with you, but I’m not going to give you my number. Have a nice rest of your day!”

    Bringing Boundaries To Life

    By now you’ve probably realized that, in each of the cases above, the words you can use to set boundaries are pretty straightforward. It’s actually saying them that’s the hard part.

    With this toolbox of phrases in hand, you can bring these boundaries to life using three simple steps:

    Step 1: Practice boundary-setting aloud.

    Many of us have never fathomed speaking up this directly. Our ability to boundary-set is just like any other skill: it takes time, effort, and practice.

    In the comfort of your own home, practice stating your boundaries aloud. Get used to wrapping your tongue around the words. Consider standing in front of a mirror and using a firm, confident tone.

    At first, it will be uncomfortable and strange—guaranteed. You may find yourself worrying about being “mean,” “rude,” or “harsh.”

    These reactions are totally normal and totally surmountable. Practicing your boundaries alone makes them easier to retrieve when you’re feeling burdened by the tension of an uncomfortable situation.

    Step 2: Role play with your friends. (Yes, really.)

    Once you’ve developed an arsenal of failsafe boundary phrases, practice with a friend or two.

    Give each other feedback. Tell your friend when she sounds overly apologetic. (“Stand in your power, girlfriend!”) Tell your friend when she’s sounding like a huge, mean jerk (“Okay, maybe take that down a notch.”) Have fun with it.

    If you want to uplevel your boundary-setting game, ask your friends to push back against your boundary. (Psychologist Harriet Lerner refers to this as a countermove: a “change back!” reaction.) Practice re-asserting yourself in the face of annoyed reactions. This way, when you begin setting these boundaries out and about, it will feel natural and familiar.

    Step 3: Practice

    As with all new skills, don’t expect perfection immediately. Your first few boundaries in the real world might be clunky, awkward, or embarrassing. Maybe you’ll speak too quietly and the offender won’t be able to hear you. Maybe you’ll boil over in rage and feel terribly guilty afterwards.

    All of this is normal. Be patient with yourself as you strengthen your boundary-setting muscle.

    P.S.: What About Silence?

    Is silence ever an effective form of boundary-setting? To answer this question I like to refer to writer Courtnery J Burg’s take, which she published on Instagram this year. She writes,

    “I’m all about boundary work. But sometimes the healthiest, best way to keep your sanity is to just walk away. To not respond. To not answer that text or that call. Sometimes the answer is no answer at all. This isn’t the same as avoiding. It’s acknowledging what is yours to carry + what isn’t. It’s remembering that not all situations must be handled with delicate gloves and deep, heartfelt energy. That occasionally, no response CAN BE your response and that you have nothing to feel guilty for and no one to explain yourself to for it.”

    Generally, I advocate verbal boundaries because 1) they’re most effective, 2) I spent many years trying to be “good” and “quiet” and I’m rebelling, and 3) they’re a great way to practice your boundary-setting muscle. However, certain awkward situations with strangers are most effectively curtailed with silence.

    As a rule of thumb, I use silence as a boundary with:

    • Catcallers. Silence or the middle finger tends to do the trick.

    • Strangers who message me insistently through social media. Most folks with public social media profiles will occasionally receive a deluge of creepy messages from strangers. Don’t engage. Block the account.

    • Arguers. Suppose I set a firm boundary and the stranger argues my point — asking me “Why?”, urging me to reconsider, etc. You do not owe a stranger any justifications or explanations. Your work is done.

    With time, boundaries that once felt impossible or too-awkward to assert will be second-nature. By practicing this skill of verbal self-defense, you will give yourself the gift of moving confidently and powerfully through the world. You deserve it!

  • I Will No Longer Allow My Doubt to Convince Me I’m Not Good Enough

    I Will No Longer Allow My Doubt to Convince Me I’m Not Good Enough

    “Whether you think you can, or you think you can’t, you’re right.” ~Henry Ford

    Self-doubt is a killer. It may start off quietly in the back of your mind when you’re a kid. You may not even notice its presence, but if you let it, it can keep growing bigger and bigger like a balloon that never pops.

    “Did I make the right decision?”

    “Should I have said that out loud?”

    “Should I apply for that job?”

    “Am I good enough?”

    For most (including myself), it’s that last question that haunts you no matter what you’re trying to do.

    Growing up, my self-doubt tiptoed into my mind by silently questioning my dancing. After I satisfied my inner critic by quitting dance practice, it moved on to question my grades, my personality, and everything else about myself.

    Fast-forward to my mid-twenties, and my self-doubt grew considerably in size. Amped with a larger space in my mind, my self-doubt attacked my writing and my job as a writer and questioned if my articles were even worth reading.

    The belief that I wasn’t good enough stopped me from sharing any of my work with my friends and family. It stopped me from even looking at my own articles.

    Over the next few months, I went on to write about twenty opinion pieces on global politics, none of which were a source of pride for me, because that is what I told myself.

    A few months after I quit my job to focus on personal health issues, I decided to go back to the website that published my work. “Maybe I can look at my writing with a fresher perspective,” I thought.

    Unfortunately for me, the company that I’d worked for decided to change their business model and redirect their efforts to create an app. All my articles had been wiped clean. Months of hard work, research, and slaving away over 700-word articles vanished at the click of a button.

    “Why didn’t I save any of this?” I asked myself. Because my self-doubt told me it wasn’t worth saving.

    It was only then that I realized, every hobby, passion, or profession I’d tried had been stunted by my own debilitating inner monologue. Moreover, I had failed to recognize that even if my articles weren’t “good enough” by someone else’s standards, they were still mine. They were still a product of my mind and tangible proof that I had ability to create something despite the obnoxious voice in my head.

    At first I thought, “What am I doing that keeps making that bubble grow bigger?” But I already knew the answer. I was feeding it. Right from the moment I quit dancing, my doubt bubble began growing bigger and bigger till it became the only thing I knew.

    I’m currently in the process of restarting my work, hobbies, and passions, with a different mindset. Here are some of the things that have immensely helped me change the way I perceive myself and my work.

    1. Keep showing up.

    Your doubt grows bigger every time you let it win. Every passion you give up, every offer you decline because you think you’re not equipped to handle it, only fuels the machine that produces more self-doubt.

    Stop yourself from going round and round the vicious cycle by understanding that even if you’re not good at something today, that does not mean that you will not be good at it tomorrow. I can’t stress enough the importance of keeping at something every day. No one starts at their best; they build to it. So show up, do it again, then do it again, and your defeatist inner voice will quiet over time. Nothing slows down that inner monologue faster than being aware of its presence and choosing to ignore it.

    2. Focus on your successes, not your failures.

    Many of us fail to see all we’ve accomplished in our lifetime because we let our failures eclipse our achievements. For me, my mind would shine a light on the missteps in my dance practice, the mistakes in my writing, pinpointing and ridiculing even the smallest of grammatical errors.

    Only upon closer inspection of my own thoughts did I begin to notice the pattern of ‘selective memory,’ where the humiliating, humbling, and haunting memories of failure and shame were constantly at the forefront of my brain.

    Now, I consciously and purposefully shine a light on the hours of effort, focus, and perseverance it took me to even get this far. I remember that, good or bad, I didn’t give up. Like everything else, it takes a bit of practice. The reward? The warmth of the realization that you are not your mistakes.

    Instead of reminding yourself over and over how you’ve fallen short, hold on tightly to the things you’re proud of. Keep reminding yourself of the things you’ve excelled at, because your focus will guide your choices.

    If you berate yourself for your failures you’ll feel too scared to try anything new. If you celebrate your successes you’ll feel empowered to keep doing your best.

    3. Trust the journey.

    For me, comparison has always been the biggest killer of ambition. When I think I’m not good enough, it’s often because I’m comparing myself to someone who’s made strides in their own journey.

    What I fail to realize, every single time, is that everyone’s journey is different. You don’t know where someone’s been and you also don’t know where they’re going. You don’t know how many ‘failures’ came before their success, or if they even feel successful in the life they’re living now.

    As cliché as it sounds, trusting your journey (failures and all) is an integral part of dissolving self-doubt. All you need to do is focus on moving forward in your own journey, trusting that you’re always where you need to be, moving at the best pace for you, learning the lessons essential for your own growth.

    If you stop yourself from moving just because someone else seems to have gone further, you will never know how far you can go.

    —

    I lost my articles because I didn’t see the value in my work, because I thought it wasn’t good enough. I now know that they were proof I was trying—which is the only way to learn and grow. And realizing I’m learning and growing helps me move forward in spite of my doubt.

  • Do You Accept Your Partner’s Attempts to Repair?

    Do You Accept Your Partner’s Attempts to Repair?

    “I am not fully healed, I am not fully wise, I am still on my way. What matters is that I am moving forward.” ~Yung Pueblo

    According to Dr. John Gottman, PhD, successful repair attempts are a “happy couple’s secret weapon.”

    An attempt to repair is when our partner makes a mistake and then makes an attempt to fix it in their own way.

    Their attempt may look very different than what we may want, and we may be tempted to react negatively, but we have a choice to catch ourselves and consciously choose a different response.

    That’s part of our work in creating a loving partnership, releasing and surrendering the need to control. Allowing our partner to love and express love in their own way instead of demanding it our way only. Being open and strong on the inside so we can be soft and loving on the outside.

    I remember many times where my husband acted annoyed with me, or responded critically to something I said or did.

    He would at times catch himself and try to soften his language or “make up” for his knee-jerk reaction.

    I often wouldn’t get a direct apology.

    I would see, through his next actions, that he was aware of his tone, and that he was trying to self-adjust to come from a more loving place.

    That was often not good enough for me though.

    I wouldn’t accept his attempt to repair.

    I was so scared and insecure on the inside that I was overly strong and indignant on the outside.

    I would point out how critical or rude he was and make him bad or wrong.

    I would choose to feel right and justified over loved and happy.

    That’s because I wanted to be loved my way only.

    That meant he had to apologize using his words, often very specific words, in order for me to feel satisfied that he felt bad enough.

    I completely set him up to fail since I was so inflexible on what being loved had to look like for me.

    This will never lead to a loving, open, safe, and trusting relationship.

    If we can be open to our partner’s attempts at making repairs from the beginning, we are setting ourselves up to feel loved, connected, and trusted by them as things continue to move forward.

    If we are repairing a long-term relationship, as we start allowing them to love us and fix things in their own way, we are rebuilding a beautiful foundation.

    How To Accept Attempts At Repairing

    1. Notice your partner’s effort.

    Notice your partner’s attempt to right their wrong, and choose to put your focus there. If they did something that’s petty or not worth a lot of energy, gracefully move on.

    This means showing warmth and gratitude, and letting them know, through your words or body language, that you authentically appreciate their effort and self-adjustment.

    It means allowing yourself to accept and receive, while appreciating the way they tried to repair and do better. Your receptive energy then invites them to do more from a place of love.

    2. Show appreciation for their efforts.

    When we focus on what we want, and acknowledge it with gratitude, we generally attract more of it!

    The same principle applies in reverse: When we focus on what we don’t want, we often attract more of that.

    When I was healing my relationship with my husband, I started to really bring my attention to all of his attempts to diffuse and repair.

    There was an incident where we were preparing dinner together, and he snapped at me when I misunderstood something he said. He quickly caught himself and self-adjusted by stating in a kind and respectful tone what it was he wanted.

    Instead of staying focused on his first attempt, and choosing to make him bad or wrong, I brought my attention to his effort to repair. I thanked him for noticing this within himself and adjusting it. I let him know that I appreciated his effort and how he self-corrected to show up in a loving way.

    Shifting my focus in this way immediately puts me in a more loving space and softens me. It feels good to shift my focus to noticing that he’s trying in his own way. And when I say thank you instead of staying stuck in my anger or annoyance, this inspires him to step up and hear me in a way he wasn’t capable of before.

    3. Assume the best in your partner.

    If you just started dating, remember that a potential partner doesn’t need to earn your trust if they haven’t done anything wrong.

    If you’re repairing a broken relationship, you want to make sure you aren’t living in the past waiting for past disappointments and hurts to repeat themselves.

    When we assume the best in our partner, we tend to get the best of them.

    That’s because we’re energetically conveying trust.

    Oftentimes, the more our partner feels trusted, the more they hear and support us because they don’t want to betray our trust.

    If we convey that we don’t trust them, they’ll likely feel hurt and then shut down, and may even create a self-fulfilling prophecy by betraying our trust.

    4. Communicate what you need in a way they can hear.

    The other side of accepting our partners’ attempts to repair is communicating what helps us move forward after a “wrong.” It doesn’t have to be black and white. We can simultaneously appreciate their efforts and also let them know what helps us feel safe, valued, and respected.

    If we’ve acknowledged our partner’s attempts at repairing by responding with warmth instead of anger, they’ll likely be more open to hearing what we need because they won’t feel defensive. The opportunity for connection and intimacy deepens, even in times of conflict.

    The best way I’ve found to communicate our needs is by using “I” statements—after a heated moment has passed.

    If you appreciate direct acknowledgement after being snapped at, you might say, “I know everyone snaps in moments of stress. When I’m spoken to that way, I feel bad about myself and disconnected from you. I would love for us both to have awareness around this, so we can catch it, acknowledge it, and support each other better moving forward.”

    They may not always remember to do specifically what you’ve asked, and in those moments you can recognize and appreciate that they’re trying, in their own way, to make things right. But if you share your needs without undertones of accusation and defensiveness, without making them bad or wrong, they’re more likely to honor your needs as best as they know how.

    —

    Really, what this all comes down to is consciously choosing love over the need to be right or have the final say, which is a powerful way to reconnect a relationship. I have seen the beauty in this act of surrender, as when we choose to love from this perspective, we inspire a deeper healing within the relationship.

  • 4 Simple Habits That Can Soothe Your Anxious Mind

    4 Simple Habits That Can Soothe Your Anxious Mind

    “I vow to let go of all worries and anxiety in order to be light and free.” ~Thich Nhat Hanh

    There is so much noise and overwhelm these days it’s almost impossible to not feel crippling anxiety on a regular basis.

    With a march of commitments, appointments, and obligations that never seem to end, we’re a nation of chronically stressed and overwhelmed.

    We often spend our lives in a rush, running on autopilot, completing task after task until we finally collapse into bed utterly exhausted. Amidst the noise and demands our minds are scattered, in a perpetual state of thinking, planning, regretting, and worrying.

    Hence the anxiety—a normal response considering how little time we spend in our bodies, grounded, connected, and still.

    I’ve struggled with anxiety for as long as I can remember. My sensitive nature and rough childhood undoubtedly shaped me. Chronic fear and anxiety manifested as perfectionism, people-pleasing, and perpetual shame. I didn’t feel that I belonged with my family, friends, or the world.

    I learned to treat myself just as badly as others did. I was my worst critic and abuser. I felt broken, unable to navigate these huge feelings of fear and shame on my own. Surrounded by negativity, aggression, and chaos, I closed my heart and disconnected from myself.

    Motherhood cracked me back open with a force I was not ready for. I wanted to give my children the kind of love and safety I was deprived of as a child, but the stress of raising three little kids was overwhelming, and anxiety kicked in full force. It took me years to recalibrate my mind, reconnect with myself, and find my footing again.

    There’s a gentle way out of habitual stress and overwhelm, but it requires our full presence and attention, and developing new habits that will help us heal and change.

    With practice, we can transform our lives through small, incremental changes that can shift our lives away from chronic stress and anxiety toward a more adaptable and peaceful way of living.

    While we have little control over most things in life, certain things we do have control over, and that’s what we need to focus on.

    There are many body-based ways we can control our stress and reduce cortisol levels, like cutting down on caffeine, alcohol, sugar, and refined carbs, and getting quality sleep and exercise. But those alone will not shift you out of anxiety. You have to tackle what goes on in your mind as well. Here’s how.

    1. Carve out time for stillness and flow.

    To counteract our incredibly fast pace of living, we must carve out time in our busy schedules to slow down and immerse ourselves in activities that give us moments of flow, peace, and space.

    Our days are filled with noise and events that require our constant attention. Therefore, we have to be deliberate in setting aside time for stillness, nature, and creativity, time for things that nourish and replenish us.

    I reconnect with stillness and flow through yoga, art, and nature. Whether holding a pose, drawing, or walking through the woods, I find the silence and slow pace soothing and comforting. I forget all my troubles and find bliss in the sensations I get to experience: the sounds, the smells, the beauty around me.

    It’s like my existence is temporarily suspended as I immerse myself in an act of awe, wonder, or creation. It’s incredibly rewarding and relaxing.

    Create daily rituals that purposely slow you down and shift your attention inward. Incorporate those moments in your self-care routine. Unplug from the busyness and give yourself the luxury of solitude and stillness.

    Plan some alone time every day, if only for fifteen minutes. Spend this time on your own—in your garden, on a mat, in bed—and bask in the space and joy of solitude and silence. Reignite your inner sacred space and nourish yourself in a new, rewarding way.

    2. Befriend your mind.

    We spend most of our day on autopilot, and that’s by design. At the same time, if we don’t pay attention to where our mind goes and what it does, we’re just allowing habitual thoughts and behaviors to lead our lives, for better of worse.

    I used to be quite oblivious to what was happening inside my head. This lack of deep self-awareness was alienating and affected every aspect of my life, especially my relationships.

    For example, having never learned how to handle conflict constructively, I would mindlessly react from pain and shame (yell, shut down, get defensive or overly emotional), which only distanced me from others and perpetuated problems.

    Feeling guilty and ashamed, I’d then ruminate on unresolved conflicts and past hurts, fueling my anxiety and making me feel depressed, helpless, and unable to move past them. Still, I didn’t understand why everything seemed to always work against me, and why I struggled so much relating to others despite succeeding in school and at work.

    Eventually, I realized that living in a perpetual state of worrying about the future while resenting what had happened to me in the past was self-destructive and harmful to others as well. Living in my head was perpetuating my own anxiety and slowly destroying my life. So, I finally decided to try mindfulness in order to find some peace and learn to live differently.

    Mindfulness brought clarity and pushed my unconscious beliefs and patterns to the surface. I now saw how having grown up around chronic anger, chaos, and pain and without much love and support led me to internalize a lot of shame, fear, and distrust. And that’s what was quietly in charge of my life—until now!

    With mindfulness, I learned to observe my thoughts and where they lead me, see where I self-destruct and work against my values and goals. And instead of judging myself harshly for my weaknesses and failures, mindfulness taught me to take ownership of my actions, and my life; that I have a choice to do things differently; that I’m not damaged, I just don’t have the skills—yet. In time, mindfulness broke the shame, pain, and anxiety spiral I was in, and allowed recovery.

    Mindfulness is empowering; it’s the opposite of anxiety. Instead of worrying and frantically trying to control our environment, it teaches us to be open, slow down, and observe what is happening within us and around us, and to respond authentically instead of reacting habitually out of shame or fear.

    This deepened awareness allows us to fully experience the world in all its richness. Slowly, we awaken to life’s small pleasures, dropping chronic worry and endless distractions from taking over our lives. We develop the freedom to think and act differently, build new habits, deal with difficult emotions, overcome our struggles, and learn to flow with life as it unfolds.

    3. Practice grateful living.

    Our minds are biased toward negativity, and we habitually focus on problems giving them much more attention than is necessary, inducing anxiety in the process. If left unchecked this can put a negative spin on our day, keeping us in a perpetual state of chronic stress and worry.

    The good news is that this bias is not set in stone. We can shift it by bringing our attention to the positive things, the little things that spark joy and bring light into our day, moments that we’d otherwise missed amidst our stress and overwhelm.

    Gratitude is about being and celebrating the present, but in order to do that you need to be honest and aware of your thoughts, feelings, and emotions. When you slow down to do this, you begin to include everything in your life, the good and the bad, the ups and downs, equally. In time, a gratitude practice can shift your perspective on life. You realize there’s much beauty and joy in it, in spite of all the difficulties.

    I am a huge fan of keeping a gratitude journal. In fact, this is how my own journey of healing started. Gratitude was like medicine for my anxious mind.

    You can buy a journal specifically for this use. Use colored pens and decorate it to make it beautiful so that you feel good when you open it. Write three to five things each day that you are thankful for.

    When did you feel a moment of peace? What brought a smile to your face? What moments of kindness or beauty have you experienced? Immerse yourself in those moments—bring them fully to life again in your mind.

    The more time you spend reflecting back on things that brought you joy throughout the day, the more time you spend keeping alive those connections that give you the feeling of calm, peace, and wonder. This will train your mind to focus on the good, and keep you away from fear.

    4. Reconnect with yourself.

    A big part of what fueled my anxiety was the feeling of being lost in a sea of errands, work responsibilities, and family obligations. Always on the go, I never slowed down long enough to notice how I felt, what I wanted, or what I needed in a given moment.

    Raised to be helpful and anticipate others’ needs—as our patriarchal systems demands—I had lost touch with my own desires and my core self.

    Change can be hard, especially if we don’t have a strong sense of self. That’s why it’s important to reconnect with your deep inner essence, whether through journaling, meditation, play, or therapy. I tried many modalities, and I found writing to be the therapeutic tool I needed to reconnect with my innermost self.

    Journaling allows us to build an intimate relationship with ourselves, and connect with our inner world in an authentic way. We gradually deepen our understanding of ourselves and our experience as we connect with our deep needs, desires, fears and hang-ups. Through journaling, we can reconnect with our inner strength and courage to overcome our obstacles, strengthen our resilience, and regain our power over how we experience and respond to life.

    Once I reconnected with my inner essence—my inner child—I wanted to do everything to protect and nurture her, and give her everything she wanted but never received as a child.

    For example, I offered myself compassion when I failed or felt hurt instead of just pushing through the discomfort and repressing my pain. I wrote in my journal about things that bothered or confused me instead of stuffing it down. I took breaks before getting overwhelmed. I made time to be alone and do things I love—reading, dancing, drawing, bubble baths.

    This was like self-parenting and it was all about nurturing and love, something I felt was lacking in my own childhood. And it gave me the strength and motivation to show up for myself when things got hard. It empowered me to keep going and improved my ability to make lasting changes in areas that mattered to me most.

    —

    The above strategies may sound simple, but when you start putting these small habits together, the body and mind respond.

    Stillness is like a balm that calms our frazzled soul. Mindfulness allows us to slow down and better respond to anxiety-inducing challenges we so often face. Gratitude gives us perspective, and self-awareness helps us recognize and understand our emotions, and that builds strength and resilience.

    Combined, those habits can greatly reduce your daily stress and anxiety. And as you are nourishing and supporting yourself daily, you allow healing to take place.

    This takes practice. Healing requires us to have patience, to slow the pace down and to be with what is. We need to trust ourselves knowing that we are growing our capabilities and making the changes that we can at the time, and when we’re ready to do more, we’ll go deeper.

    Whether anxiety is something you’ve developed in recent years or you’ve lived with it your whole life, these four practices can have a soothing effect on your body and mind, and can shift you from perpetual state of stress and overwhelm into a more peaceful way of living.

  • How to Mindfully Calm Your Anger and Stop Doing Things You Regret

    How to Mindfully Calm Your Anger and Stop Doing Things You Regret

    “Neurologists claim that every time you resist acting on your anger, you’re actually rewiring your brain to be calmer and more loving.” ~Unknown

    One of the most impactful ways that mindfulness has changed my life is how I’m able to work with my feelings of anger.

    Anyone who has met me in recent years would never know how anger used to run my life. I often wish that people who are just now meeting me could realize the transformation I’ve gone through from my past. If people could see how mindfulness has changed me from an angry, irritable person who hated the world to a fun-loving, happy-go-lucky guy, I think everyone would give mindfulness a try.

    My mindfulness practice has allowed me to pay attention to what’s happening in my mind and body when anger is rising. I often call this the “volume knob” of anger, and I’ll dive a little more into that shortly.

    First, I want to give you a glimpse into my past so you can have a better frame of reference of where I used to be and where I’m at now through a practice of mindfulness.

    The Child of an Alcoholic

    I grew up as a child of an alcoholic mother, and this gave me a host of issues while growing up, but the biggest one was anger.

    I was extremely angry with my mom because I couldn’t understand why she wouldn’t stop drinking for me. I thought that if she truly loved me, she’d be able to quit drinking for me, but she didn’t. My mom ended up getting sober when I was twenty years old, but it was twenty years too late, and I still had two decades of resentments toward her.

    Aside from the anger I had toward my mother, I had anger toward the rest of the world.

    Looking back on it, it seems completely insane (and it kind of was). It angered me growing up with kids who didn’t have to go through what I was going through in my home life. The kids I grew up with had great parents who made a decent amount of money and could buy them whatever they wanted. But it wasn’t just the material things; they actually had parents and family members who cared about them.

    A Life Full of Anger

    Being angry all the time was exhausting, but it was the only way I knew how to be. Because of this, I took my anger out on anyone who crossed paths with me.

    Although I wasn’t someone who got into many physical altercations growing up, I had words that were venom. I hurt many people throughout my life by saying the most hurtful things I could think of, and then I felt extremely guilty about it. While I thought that every woman I dated was at fault, I could look back at my past and see how toxic I was to anyone who had the misfortune of dating me.

    I forgot to mention that I turned into a drug addict and alcoholic myself around eighteen years old, but I managed to get sober on my twenty-seventh birthday in 2012.

    Part of the program of recovery that I work says that one of the main reasons we drink and use is because of resentments, which I could definitely relate to. Another part of this program is making amends. Making amends to the people I had hurt in my past was something that helped me forgive myself, but I’m also not a big fan of making amends.

    One of the issues with getting sober is that you don’t immediately become this spiritual being. I still had a lot of anger, and I still couldn’t control my temper. I was the epitome of someone who reacted rather than responded. Whenever I would react poorly, I had to humble myself to apologize. I needed to figure out a way to manage my anger before it got to that point, and that’s when I found mindfulness.

    Mindfulness is My Anger Management Tool

    I didn’t find mindfulness until I was three years sober. My anger wasn’t nearly as bad as it used to be, but it was still there. I knew that I still had a lot of self-improvement to do, so I gave mindfulness meditation a try.

    From the first time I tried meditating, I immediately understood how transformative it could be in my life, but I didn’t realize how much it would help me with my anger issues.

    One of the reasons I love the practice of mindfulness is because there are so many informal practices. As I started introducing different practices like mindful walking, mindful listening, and mindful communicating, I was becoming more mindful in my everyday life.

    What I began to realize was that I was only acknowledging my anger when I was ready to explode, and it was often something that had been building up for a while. Since I wasn’t recognizing the early triggers of my anger, I wasn’t able to deal with it before reacting in a way that I would regret.

    Some of the patterns of my anger triggers I started to recognize include:

    • Disrespected
    • Lied to
    • Being talked down to
    • Not being treated fairly
    • Not given credit
    • Not appreciated

    When I speak of the “volume knob” of anger, I mean that mindfulness has helped me begin catching my anger at a volume level of one or two rather than at a nine or ten. By the time my anger gets to the highest volume, it is controlling me rather than me controlling it.

    Being more mindful throughout my day has given me the opportunity to not only spot my anger in its earlier stages, but it’s also allowed me to treat it with compassion and curiosity.

    Now, when I feel that initial anger within my body or mind, I get really curious. I take a calm breath and simply think, “That’s interesting. Why am I feeling this way towards this person or situation?”

    Mindfulness helps declutter the mind and help me get to the root of what’s really happening within my own mind. Often times, I find that my anger is based on circumstances that are completely outside of my control, or they’re based on other circumstances that have nothing to do with the other person or people involved.

    Perhaps the most profound way that mindfulness has affected me is that it’s had me realize that my anger is often based on belief systems that are rather closed-minded.

    A Mindful Communication Practice

    A great practice you can begin using is mindful communication. This involves being fully present during a conversation, which involves listening while also being mindful of what your own mind and body are doing.

    I suggest you begin practicing this with someone who you may not get along with too well, but not someone who makes you overly emotional. This could be a coworker you’re not too fond of, a family member, or a friend in your inner circle. If this is too much for you, you can do it while browsing social media posts or watching the news.

    While communicating with this person, be mindful of the emotions rising in your body and the sensations you’re getting. Begin to notice what they’ve said that’s triggered this initial emotion and be aware of where you’re feeling sensations in your body.

    Rather than turning to judgment, just be curious. Be fascinated by why your body and mind are reacting the way they are in that moment. When you treat these thoughts and sensations with equanimity, you’re less likely to react poorly in the situation.

    When I speak of being fascinated, I mean to treat your experience with the curiosity of a child. This was one of my first lessons in mindfulness. When you’re being curious, you’re not judging. Inspect your experience like a child closely examining a leaf for the first time. This helps takes the power away from the strong emotion you’re feeling in that moment.

    This whole practice is extremely important because it gives us a chance to pause. When we pause, we’re able to respond rather than react. Reactions are often what the primitive part of our brain wants to do, and we don’t put much thought into it. This typically leads to regret and suffering. By being able to pause, and then respond, we make much wiser decisions.

    This is going to take practice until you have your temper under control, but over time, you’ll begin to reflect on situations that would have set you off. I’m personally amazed at how well my anger is managed today, and it’s something I continue to work on. Now that I know how to respond rather than react, I don’t find myself regretting the decisions I made out of a knee-jerk reaction to anger.

    As I mentioned in the beginning of this post, I wish more people could truly understand how much mindfulness has changed me. Whenever I see senseless acts of violence such as domestic abuse, physical altercations between strangers, or even murder that happens due to somebody’s inability to manage their anger, I just think of how much different this world would be if more people learned this practice.

    My hope is to be an example to others when it comes to managing anger through mindfulness. If they can see how I respond to life’s difficulties on a daily basis, maybe they’ll decide to give this mindfulness thing a try.

  • 7 Amazing Things That Happen When You Start Loving Yourself More

    7 Amazing Things That Happen When You Start Loving Yourself More

    “When I loved myself enough, I began leaving whatever wasn’t healthy. This meant people, jobs, my own beliefs and habits—anything that kept me small. My judgment called it disloyal. Now I see it as self-loving,” ~Kim McMillen

    I started learning about self-love a long time ago.

    In fact, I started learning about self-love so long ago that when, fifteen years later, a shaman in Peru I told me that self-love was the answer to all my questions, I got really pissed off!

    I had struggled with depression as a teenager. For about two years, I lived a very sad life. I don’t even remember much to be honest. I felt the pain of existence. I avoided people. Every day felt like yet another obstacle to overcome. I existed rather than lived. Eventually, I overcame it and discovered some tools that I still use to help me with any low moments l might have today. One of them was the practice of self-love.

    I found a few helpful books on meditation, the Silva Method, visualization, and the famous book You Can Heal Your Life, by Louise Hay.

    I wrote affirmations daily. I kept doing my mirror work. I started to be more appreciative and kinder to myself. I meditated regularly and gradually rebuilt myself. I thought I had nailed self-love. I thought I had really understood what self-love was.

    I was wrong.

    I was in my early thirties—single and not entirely thrilled about it. Not fulfilled in my corporate career. Living in a converted garage in London and wondering what to change in my life to feel happier.

    When my friend asked me whether I would be up for travelling to Peru, I didn’t think twice.

    It felt like the right adventure at the right time.

    We had a magical time for three weeks. We visited many ancient places, took part in spiritual ceremonies, met and worked with shamans, and visited some old communities living a modest life in the middle of the Andes. We experienced everything that Peru had to offer.

    One day, my friend and I decided to go for a coca leaf reading. It was mainly out of curiosity but as with previous past readings, I wanted to be reassured that my life was going to change and that I would soon be in a better place.

    Now I know better than to turn to a psychic to ease my anxiety. Once during a reading a psychic told me that there are a few future possibilities for us, based on our choices. So, I started to trust my choices more and become comfortable with uncertainty, as there is always a solution to our problems. I also trust that whatever I experience I’m having is for my highest good and the exact lesson I now need.

    Back to my story: So, we went to a back room of a very run down massage place that we’d come across a few days earlier.

    The shaman came and set himself up. He couldn’t speak English and had a Dutch translator.

    My friend went first and asked her questions and got guidance.

    When it was my turn, I started to ask the usual questions: When will I meet the love of my life? When will I find a better job? What job would it be? When will I find a better flat? When will I start earning more money?

    After I asked the first question, the shaman stirred the leaves in his palms and threw them up. When they fell, he looked at them and said to me, “When you start loving yourself.”

    Fair enough, I thought to myself, and asked another question.

    The shaman threw the leaves again, contemplated a little, and gave me the same answer, “When you start loving yourself more.”

    I thought “okay” and agreed silently with him. I still felt I could love myself more.

    I asked another question and got the same answer. And another question and got the same answer.

    Doubts began to appear and I started to feel a bit uneasy.

    I felt like we were a bit naive going to a shaman we didn’t know and that nobody had recommended him to us.

    When I heard the same answer for the fifth time, I lost it.

    I snapped at the translator, accusing the shaman of being fake and not knowing what he was doing.

    The translator started to calm me down and tried to convince me that the shaman was very popular and he knew his stuff. Apparently, many people kept coming back to him because of his accurate readings.

    Somehow it was hard to believe.

    We completed the reading and left.

    My friend tried to help me make sense of this experience but I completely dismissed it.

    I was furious. Not even about the reading but the realization that I thought I had done so much work around self-love and was convinced I knew how to love and respect myself. But here a stranger was pointing out to me that there was yet more work to be done.

    I remember asking my friend angrily, “How much work on self-love do I need to do to actually start loving myself? Is fifteen years not enough?”

    I felt helpless and discouraged.

    It felt like all the work I had done on myself up until that moment in Peru had meant nothing.

    I was frustrated because I assumed that after all the inner work I had done, I should have known better. I should have attracted higher quality men. I should have had a better job. I should have earned more money. I should have been happier.

    My life had a few more lessons for me before I actually got what self-love really meant.

    A few years later, I was even more frustrated in the new job—and still single after dozens of failed dates with men who didn’t even remotely fit the description of my dream man. Not much happier, I had a moment of realization when I was drying my hair.

    It just hit me out of nowhere. I felt in my whole body what it was to love myself. I felt flooded with self-appreciation for no reason. I was overcome by kindness and compassion for myself.

    In that moment, I saw how unloving I was toward myself. I realized that through my entire life I had been betraying and abandoning myself.

    I completely understood what the shaman in Peru really meant!

    Until I truly loved and honored myself, I wouldn’t get a better job, find a loving man, or feel happier.

    I wouldn’t because I didn’t love myself enough to feel worthy of it all.

    It took me a while to integrate my insights and realize how the love I had (or lack of it!) for myself was directly responsible for my unfulfilling love life, draining career, and overall unhappiness with life.

    A few years later, I now have my own definition of self-love.

    I believed for a long time that self-love was merely a feeling toward myself.

    Now I know better. It is way more than just a feeling.

    For me, self-love is a practice. It is a practice of choosing myself, putting myself first when I can, making myself important, and being kind and compassionate with myself. Also, self-love is about choosing things, people, and situations that are good for me, feel right, and serve me.

    Self-love is an on-going conscious choice!

    When I started to practice consciously choosing myself over others, over damaging situations, over unfulfilling friendships and relationships, things changed dramatically.

    To illustrate why you need to practice self-love, here are a few examples from my own life.

    1. You will start to feel more in charge of your life.

    I realized that I had always a choice. I could make poor choices out of fear, guilt, and shame or empowered choices that were aligned with who I was and what felt authentic to me. So, I stopped trying to please people, accommodating men unworthy of my attention, and doing things that didn’t bring me pleasure or satisfaction.

    When you start loving yourself more, you too will realize your wants and needs are important, and you have the choice to honor them.

    2. You will set stronger boundaries around dating and love.

    As a result of honoring my needs, I started to feel more confident and assertive. I became more purposeful with dating. I stopped wasting time on the wrong guys and started making more empowered romantic choices. The final outcome: I found the love of my life after struggling in the love department for years.

    When you strengthen your boundaries from a place of self-love, you too will feel more empowered and you’ll stop repeatedly choosing partners who aren’t good for you.

    3. You will stop seeking approval.

    This was the most liberating thing. As I loved and respected myself more, I stopped worrying about how much others liked or approved of me. I stopped doing things to be liked. This created space for me to be more authentic, less defensive, and more my genuine self.

    When you have your own approval and acceptance, you start caring less about other people’s opinion of you and living a life that’s aligned with your own values.

     4. You will start to make more courageous and conscious decisions.

    I gave up my draining corporate job out of respect to myself.

    I moved out of London after fifteen years to have a slower and more peaceful lifestyle.

    I fell in love again. (This takes lots of courage if you have been hurt over and over again!)

    I got pregnant and had a natural birth. I had no clue how this happened, as I formerly had broadcasted everywhere that if I ever got pregnant, I would be the first to ask for an epidural. But I listened to my body and having an epidural didn’t feel right.

    I became a mama to my son. This is probably the bravest thing I have ever done in my life, since I love my freedom so much. But the love for my son helps me forget how important my freedom was to me before.

    Self-love will give you the courage to get rid of things that don’t serve you and make space for things that will help you grow. When you truly value yourself, you make decisions that honor you rather than harm you.

    5. You will start to enjoy being with yourself.

    I stopped filling my days with meetings, dates, and outings, as I did in the past just so I wouldn’t feel alone. I stopped running away from myself into the arms of unsuitable men. I stopped meeting friends just to have some company.

    Instead, I started to do more things I loved doing: swimming, yoga, writing, watching movies, meditating. When I reconnected with myself deeply, spending time in my own company didn’t feel scary anymore. I stopped being afraid of being alone.

    You too will find that when you become more loving toward yourself, you will start being more comfortable being in your own lovely company.

    6. You will develop a stronger relationship with yourself.

    As I spent more time with myself I deepened the connection I had with myself. I stopped being desperate for a romantic relationship because I started to have more fun on my own. I became my own friend. I started to feel more secure as a person as I tapped into my true inner being. I started to believe in myself more. I started to trust myself more.

    When you deepen your connection with yourself through self-love, you’ll connect on a deeper level with others too. As your relationship with yourself improves, your others get stronger as well.

    7. You will stop seeking happiness in relationships.

    Loving myself helped me realize that I didn’t need a man to be happy. All the love I needed to be happy was within me already. I took more responsibility for my personal happiness and stopped giving my power away to men.

    I understood that happiness was constantly present in my life. It wasn’t somewhere in the future. I just needed to change my focus and learn to appreciate what I had rather than dwelling on what I didn’t have.

    When you start to love yourself more and feel happier, you too will likely feel less desperate for a romantic relationship. You’ll realize you don’t need a partner to be happy. You just need to be happy and the right person will show up in time.

    —

    So how do you start loving yourself more? Start choosing yourself daily and doing what feels right for you.

    Introduce a daily practice of checking in with yourself every time you need to make a decision or a choice.

    First you ask yourself: What would feel loving in this situation?

    Once you have the answer, ask yourself these thee powerful questions:

    Does it feel good/right for me?

    Will it serve me?

    Will it make me feel energized?

    These questions will help you honor yourself and your needs and stay true and loving to yourself.

    There is much more I want to say on this subject, but I will leave it for another article.

    Let me just say this: Self-love will transform your life—so start practicing!

  • I Spent Years Looking for Happiness in the Wrong Places

    I Spent Years Looking for Happiness in the Wrong Places

    “Never put the key to your happiness in someone else’s pocket.” ~Unknown

    About ten years ago I made the mistake of re-reading my journal from high school. Wow, was I ever a miserable, slightly unstable person.

    I dated the same (great) guy for three years, but looking back over my handwritten confessions, you would have thought I was dating Mussolini. I had endless complaints, wanted to control everything my boyfriend did, and every other word I wrote was a gripe. And this was about a guy I tried to get to notice me for months before he finally asked me out!

    This was not the last time getting something I thought would make me happy didn’t do the trick.

    When I graduated from college, I was really stuck on the idea of losing weight. I’d gained some in college, but even after I lost what I’d gained, there was no satisfied feeling.

    Nope, I spent the next couple of years trying to lose more weight, and even when I got to my most slender and random strangers told me I looked great, I was still unhappy. I still thought something was wrong with me and was always trying to change myself for the “better.”

    It was as if getting the thing I wanted all along wasn’t actually the missing piece to my contentment.

    Still, when I gained some of that weight I’d lost back (because it was impossible to maintain long term), I kept trying to lose it again. For years. Seriously, years. I let it control my life. All because I thought it would make me happy… even though there was no evidence that weight loss would bring me any closer to peace than it had the first time.

    Once I was able to let that go (with therapy, lots of self-help, the death of my father, and getting pregnant), I found somewhere else to place my hopes for happiness: my career.

    This had already been lingering in the back of my mind as something to “fix,” but I didn’t really start focusing on it until I stopped obsessing about my body and was at home full time with my daughter.

    I got certification upon certification, got a graduate degree, started multiple online businesses, and even got myself accepted to a second graduate program, which I withdrew from before it started, thank goodness.

    Even once I pinpointed a career focus that felt satisfying and right, I was not happy. I found so many reasons to be upset, from telling myself I would never be successful to worrying that I wasn’t good enough at my chosen profession, to beating myself up for not being like some random person I was comparing myself to on the internet.

    Still, it wasn’t until earlier this year that I finally saw clearly, for the first time ever, that nothing was going to make me happy. Not love, not changing my body, not money, not my career.

    Before you write me a prescription for antidepressants, let me clarify: No thing will make me happy. And by thing, I mean external situation.

    Yes, it’s exciting to have a success in my business. My wedding day was lovely. Holding my daughter for the first time was miraculous.

    But all of those things are fleeting. Achievements and milestones can only lift the mood temporarily.

    Long lasting contentment is possible, though. I just wasn’t looking for it in the right place. I spent decades looking outside instead of inside.

    Now that I know what to do, I can access peace at just about any moment of my day. It’s not the giddy happiness of getting asked out for the first time by a long haired boy in a Nirvana T-shirt, but it’s steady, and it’s deep, and it’s long lasting.

    Here are some ways I access that still, yet joyful part of myself, no matter how much I weigh or how much money I’m making.

    1. I take the focus away from the past and the future and place them on the now.

    Let’s say I look out the window and see that the sunset is absolutely spectacular, and I go outside to take a closer look.

    Things can go a couple different ways at this point. I could see the sunset and let my thoughts run away with me, telling me things like, “go get your phone and post this on Instagram!” or “Oh my gosh this reminds me of that sunset I saw with my husband when we were up in New York and then it got so cold and then the baby got sick and we had to take her to urgent care because we couldn’t figure out what was wrong and the place was out of network and we got this huge bill and that was right before we realized the car needed a new transmission…”
    I think you get the idea. I’m definitely not experiencing or deriving any happiness from the sunset at this point.

    The other way to experience the sunset is to try to keep yourself physically in the present moment, enjoying what is happening around you right now.

    Feel the breeze on your skin. Feel the way your stomach rises and falls while you breathe. Feel the way there is an energy, almost an aliveness in your hands and fingers. Try to see the sunset without labeling it, and if your mind starts taking you away from enjoying the sunset, gently bring its attention back to the beauty around you and the sensations you’re experiencing in your body.

    2. I breathe. And I pay attention while I do it.

    This is really just another way to quiet the mind. Because quieting the mind is the only way to feel lasting happiness.

    Getting a boyfriend didn’t make me happy because my mind constantly came up with reasons things should be different. Losing weight didn’t make me happy because I was constantly thinking about the ways my body should be better. My career has brought more stress than joy because I think about it, what it should and shouldn’t be, instead of just letting it exist as it is.

    So back to the breathing thing. Breathing brings you into your body and out of your head. Breathing gives your mind something to focus on instead of your (negative) thoughts. Breathing brings you to the present.

    3. I consciously remove the pressure from my life circumstances.

    Here’s what all my past disappointments have had in common: me expecting them to make me happy. That’s not working for me anymore.

    Maybe it sounds sad or disappointing to you, but realizing that external situations, things society in general celebrates as success, aren’t going to do anything for my well-being is incredibly liberating.

    Once you realize that a promotion, that a baby, that a new dress isn’t going to make you happy, you’re free. You can still enjoy those things, of course you can, but you don’t have to put the entire weight of your happiness on them.

    So where does that leave us? It leaves us in the moment. Breathing now, creating space in our minds now. It leaves us quiet, still. It leaves us able to let go of judgment, of doubt, of chaos. It lets joy flow through us instead of making us cling to every compliment from a stranger or new pair of shoes.

    You can do this, too. You can allow your life to unfold instead of pressuring it and yourself to look a certain way. You can find a lasting happiness that you’ve never known possible. You just have to stop expecting it to come from a place outside of you.

  • Simple Truths About Toxic Mothers I Wish I Knew Growing Up

    Simple Truths About Toxic Mothers I Wish I Knew Growing Up

    “Don’t be reckless with other people’s hearts, and don’t put up with people that are reckless with yours.” ~Mary Schmich

    After Mom passed away two years ago, I returned home to take care of the remnants of her earthly life.

    Clothes and shoes, books with her notes in the margins, old cookware and medication leftovers. Tableware, sewing utensils, knitting needles and thread. And at the very end, the most private part of Mom’s life, something I’d been avoiding for as long as I could: photographs, letters, diaries, and notes. These deeply personal belongings took me on an emotional roller coaster ride a few months long.

    Sweet notes penned by my dad at age twenty-one to Mom at the hospital, where she was recovering after a complicated delivery of their only child … me. Written in his clumsy, dear handwriting, and Mom’s short replies underneath, her handwriting as neat as always.

    Letters from Mom’s ex-boyfriends, before my father’s time (why did I always assume that she didn’t have any?). And emotional messages from me, sent from a summer camp to the address I knew by heart since I was three. My letters to Mozambique, where my parents worked in the early 1980s, and postcards from my travels. A few envelopes from my son, whom Mom loved deeply, in a way she could never love me. Or so I thought.

    She kept them all.

    Seventy years of Mom’s memories written on paper she didn’t even remember she had. And even if she’d known, she wouldn’t be able to read them because of her illness.

    But the most profound emotional moment of all was still waiting to come: letters from Mom to a younger me. Letters she wrote but never sent—I will never know why. What was she afraid of?

    I read these letters with tears streaming down my cheeks like two spring creeks down the hill. The letters were imbued with love, like a forest glade with sunshine on a hot summer day. They were full of compassion I didn’t realize Mom possessed.

    She kept these letters because they were vital to her. And I know now that she loved me. Always.

    But for a significant part of my life, I wasn’t even sure that Mom wanted me. When I was little, she treated me like her property, as if she owned me—my body, my thoughts, and my feelings. When I grew older, we fought and struggled, hurting one another in an attempt to protect the scared and lonely little girl inside each of us.

    It took me decades to heal and forgive Mom. It took a debilitating illness for her to tear down the mighty walls she’d built around her soul and embrace the love that had always smouldered in her heart

    I’ve lived long enough to learn a great deal about human psychology; I even made it my profession. And I see that history repeats itself: Women like my mom pass on their family’s legacy of abuse. Why? Because they either don’t know how to change it, don’t dare to, or lack the necessary resources and support to break the pattern.

    As a result, new generations of kids grow up suffering, feeling unloved. And trauma celebrates its new victory on their account.

    But it doesn’t have to continue, because today we know so much more.

    We no longer stigmatize people with emotional problems and mental illnesses. We understand that children, too, suffer from anxiety and depression—something that in my “happy” childhood was unthinkable to suggest. We didn’t have psychologists in schools to help us make sense out of the distorted reality of our homes.

    We were alone with our pain.

    Sometimes I wish I could meet a younger me and tell her what I know today. To help her and other youth quietly suffering in their dysfunctional families to see the truth, relieve their pain, and encourage them to enjoy their lives more.

    What would I tell to a younger me if I could meet her today?

    Here it is:

    You are not alone.

    The worst memory of my childhood and young adulthood was feeling lonely. I was unable to tell anyone about my family life because mothers were believed to be made of pure gold. In fact, I even thought that my life was quite normal.

    I wish I’d known back then that not all mothers are good. Some are sick and fighting their own demons. Below the surface, they don’t love themselves, and they don’t know how to love their children. Children who suffer in silence, just like me … and just like you.

    There’s nothing wrong with you.

    For decades I felt confused when Mom told me I was the one with a problem. According to her, I couldn’t do anything right, not even remember things the way they really happened. She told me I had a “lively imagination” or even called me a “little liar” because what I remembered had never taken place. And I believed her—no wonder all of my all senses were disorganized.

    So let me tell you this: It’s not you with the problem, it’s your mother, and she’s unable to admit it. She gaslights you using toxic “amnesia” to confuse your senses and create doubt. No matter how much you try to be the best in school, cook dinner for the family, and be there to support your mom’s emotional needs, it’s not going to change her perception of you.

    Don’t bother trying to impress her. The only person you need to impress is you. Be yourself.

    You are good enough as you are.

    Do you desperately want to be loved and cherished by your mom? Do you long for her approval, like I did? Do you try your hardest, but no matter what you do, it’s never good enough?

    I have good and bad news. The bad news is that it probably will never change. And the good news is, you are good enough already, so stop working so hard trying to prove it to your mother. There’s no need.

    Protect yourself.

    I was vulnerable to Mom’s intermittent reinforcements for most of my adult life. As soon as she acted cordially, I would do anything for her. I believed she’d changed, only to be disappointed again and again.

    So when your mother suddenly becomes lovely and cheerful with you, and you feel like your life has finally turned around, remember that it hasn’t. Not for long, anyway.

    Don’t start immediately sharing your deepest secrets and feelings with her, because they will almost certainly be turned against you a few hours later. Enjoy the moment, but stay on guard.

    Don’t try to change your mom.

    I tried to reason with Mom and explain to her what her behavior was doing to me. But every time, she would feel wronged, react angrily, and start a fight. Eventually, she did change her behavior, but not until much later and at the most unexpected time ever.

    Will your mother ever change? Probably not, so don’t waste your life waiting for that. It’s your mother’s life and responsibility, not yours. Focus on improving your own behavior and live a joyful, fulfilling life of your own. This is the only chance that your mother might follow your lead.

    Worry less and appreciate your life.

    It’s okay to be happy, no matter what your mother tells you. Life isn’t meant to be 24/7 hard work and suffering in the process, as my mother sadly believed.

    There’s a place for fun and joy every day—always remember that.

    Here are my favorite activities to cope with worries and help to de-stress:

    • Keep busy doing what you love to do.
    • Stay physically active—go to the gym, take a walk or go hiking, play games outside, swim or run. Pick your favorite and start moving.
    • Play and sing a favorite song.
    • Play a musical instrument if you can.
    • Solve a puzzle.
    • Use the tapping technique, together with anti-stress and anti-worry affirmations.
    • Plan your next day.
    • Limit your presence on social media and the Internet.
    • Don’t watch the news.
    • Use your creative powers or enjoy the creations of others.

    Think for yourself.

    Growing up with difficult, critical mothers, we have trouble trusting ourselves. But trust can be learned.

    Remind yourself that you’re good enough the way you are—just as good (and as bad) as anyone else! Care less about what others might think or say. Love and trust yourself to make your own decisions. Don’t be afraid to be confident and appreciate your life.

    Have a goal and work hard to make it happen.

    Ask yourself, what do you want your life to be like five years from now? Do you want to work with animals, help people, or be a rocket scientist? Find out what you like, what makes you excited and gives you a sense of purpose.

    Then, get an education or find a job in that field, and don’t allow others to interfere with your plans. Start investing in your future.

    Distance yourself emotionally from your mother.

    Distancing yourself will protect you from feeling hurt and help you to learn more about your mom. You’ll begin to see that she projects her own insecurities, worries, and fears on you because she doesn’t know better. To be honest, she never really grew up. That little unloved, lonely girl inside her still steers her life.

    Distancing yourself helps you avoid enmeshing with your mom’s feelings and stops her from influencing yours.

    Learn to trust other people.

    Because if you don’t trust anyone, you will be lonely. Start inviting people into your life—there are many good men and women out there.

    That said, choose your friends (and partners) with care. Don’t strive to be part of the popular crowd but instead look for honesty and kindness in others. Look for someone who has the potential to genuinely care about you. A therapist may be one of these people.

    —

    Some people are lucky enough to have mature parents who know how to love their kids, and some are not. Some of us have better health, and some have more money than others. There are many things in life we can’t control or change. We have what we have, and it’s probably for a reason—after all, who would we be if we didn’t have challenges to overcome? If everything we wished for came served on a golden plate?

    We would never grow and develop as humans. We’d be living the lives of plankton forever, feeding and being eaten.

    So by definition, life is not easy or fair. And when the little girl inside me feels scared, I hug her and say, “Don’t worry so much, love. You will be alright, and your life will be full. You will turn challenges into adventures, weaknesses into strengths, and learn to find joy even in difficult times. You’re a great kid! Stay cheerful, curious and kind as you are. Take care of yourself.”

    What do you say to your inner child?

  • Why I’m in Therapy Again, and Not Ashamed to Share It

    Why I’m in Therapy Again, and Not Ashamed to Share It

    “Emotional pain cannot kill you, but running from it can. Allow. Embrace. Let yourself feel. Let yourself heal.” ~Vironika Tugaleva

    Ah, therapy, my old friend. We meet again.

    I thought I’d released you from my life. I thought I no longer needed you to maintain my sanity.

    I was wrong.

    Third time’s a charm, as they say.

    The First Time I Went to Therapy

    I was eighteen when I had my first encounter with therapy. My parents had just divorced under pretty devastating circumstances, and my first serious relationship had crumbled at my feet.

    It was a double betrayal.

    My parents had hidden their divorce from me. I found out on our “family holiday” that we weren’t actually a family anymore. Plus, my partner had secretly been seeing another woman. He started dating her publicly less than a week after our five-year relationship ended.

    I was young, impressionable, and distraught. My whole life felt like a lie.

    I spent weeks wrapped up in the safety of my bed, emerging only to find comfort in food. I dropped out of university. My partner had isolated me from my friends due to his controlling and coercive behavior, which left me feeling totally alone. Everything felt pointless. I had no idea what to do with myself, and my thoughts were starting to scare me. So I sought help.

    Finding a therapist was easy. A quick Google search was all it took.

    But it took a long time to build up the courage to make an appointment, fill out the pre-session questionnaire, and actually walk into the building.

    I remember feeling so much shame. I thought I was weak and ridiculous for not being able to handle my emotions or deal with what was happening—but I also knew that my mental health was on seriously shaky ground.

    So I went.

    I walked into the therapy room, shaking like a leaf. My heart (and my mouth) were melded shut for the first few sessions. My therapist had to carefully wrench it open to encourage me to open up.

    Finally, I did. And when I unburdened myself of all that had been weighing me down, I saw it on her face.

    Judgment.

    At the end of the session, I walked out of that room and never went back. My worst fear—that someone would see the truth about what was alive inside me and judge me because of it—had been realized. I cursed myself for thinking therapy was a good idea.

    And so I tried to forget about my wounds as I unconsciously carried them into the next phase of my life.

    The Second Time I Went to Therapy

    Six years later, I started having debilitating panic attacks on a daily basis. The problem was I felt more than a little resistance to the idea of going to therapy again.

    By this time, my anxiety had steadily increased to the point that it became a normal part of my everyday life.

    I expected to be unable to sleep, constantly feel exhausted, and be plagued by fearful, intrusive thoughts. I got used to the fact that I couldn’t relax, always felt irritable, and lashed out at the people I loved—despite desperately craving their support—because I was in so much emotional pain.

    And honestly, I thought my anxiety was my edge.

    I was completing my master’s degree, and I thought intense stress made me work harder. It felt like a sign I was on the right track. I worked day and night, utterly consumed by my projects. In my head, I was achieving top grades because of my worrying.

    So I put the idea of therapy out of my head until eventually, I hit my breaking point.

    I had a terrifying panic attack while driving at top speed. Unable to breathe, I pulled over to the side of the road to keep myself (and other drivers) safe. It was my third panic attack that day. I’d finally had enough and knew I couldn’t live like this anymore.

    I needed help.

    I was still nervous about going back to therapy. But I was also ready to dig—to excavate all the junk I’d been hauling around and declutter my mind.

    Instead of going with the first therapist who popped up on Google, I did more research this time. I interviewed different people until I found a therapist I vibed with. And because I wanted to be the ‘perfect’ client, I went above and beyond in my therapy work (a big part of which was working on my perfectionism and my need for external validation. Go figure).

    I had a breakthrough. I found a deep sense of inner peace for the first time in my adult life.

    My therapist introduced me to mindfulness, meditation, and yoga—healing tools I’m still learning, practicing, and teaching to this day. For that, I’ll be forever grateful.

    The Third Time I’m Going to Therapy

    These days, I’m in a very different place.

    I’m in tune with myself. I listen to my body. I take time to be still. I do everything therapists tell you to do to stay well. I’ve traversed the territory of my suffering, including childhood trauma.

    And yet, I’m still human. I struggle.

    Specifically, I notice a dynamic playing out in my relationships. I feel intense anxiety about not being enough for my partners and not being worthy of love.

    I worry that they’ll find somebody better and want to leave me. I convince myself that they hide things from me and must be secretly planning their escape. I mourn the loss of love before it’s even happened. No matter how much my partners tell me otherwise, it’s still an issue.

    After much reflection, I know why—I still don’t feel like I’m enough.

    Although I can now recognize it, I need to work on changing that pattern. That’s where therapy comes in.

    The difference is that this time, I know where to go for help. I know what type of help to ask for. And, crucially, I feel zero embarrassment about saying I need that help.

    The first two times I went to therapy, I stayed quiet and stewed in shame. Here are three reasons I’m telling people about it this time around.

    1. Suffering is a universal human experience.

    To be human is to suffer.

    It’s almost impossible for us to live a gorgeously rich, fulfilling life and emerge from it completely unscathed.

    If we open our hearts, we suffer. If we live our truth, we suffer. If we stand up for what’s right—guess what—we suffer.

    Our experiences might not look the same. My story isn’t your story. But the core emotions underneath are what we can relate to.

    You might not have had a nervous breakdown at university, for example, but you might have had one at work. You might have had one after having a child. You might even have just realized you’re heading toward one.

    Maybe you’ve had a panic attack and you know how that feels. Or maybe you can’t stop yourself from worrying, no matter how hard you try.

    Our universal experiences connect us to each other.

    When I reveal the depth of my suffering, people open up and show me theirs. We dance in our shared humanity and release our burdens together.

    Remember this mantra: It’s okay not to be okay. It’s okay to admit I need help and support. We all suffer. Admitting I need help isn’t weak; it’s a brave act of reclaiming my mental well-being.

    2. Hearing others’ stories normalizes our struggle.

    Listening to other people’s stories—on their blogs, podcasts, or books—helped me to accept, and seek help for, my own suffering.

    All too often, I wish I’d heard those stories sooner.

    When I was twenty-two and running my own business (after reading The Four Hour Work Week), what if I’d known that the book’s author had planned to end his life and still suffers from depression? Would I have put so much pressure on myself to be successful?

    Would I have continued to measure myself against him, thinking I wasn’t doing enough? Or would I have seen him as a fellow imperfect human being and perhaps been more vigilant in managing my mental health?

    It’s impossible to know, of course. What I do know is that when people share their stories, it helps others who are going through something similar. Instead of judging them, we feel seen and understood. We feel less alone.

    It normalizes suffering. And it normalizes talking about, and getting help for, that suffering.

    Remember this mantra: There are plenty of people out there who are experiencing (or have experienced) what I’m going through. If they got through it, so can I. There’s hope for me.

    3. There’s nothing to be ashamed of.

    The third and most important reason I’m sharing my journey into therapy is simply that I’m not ashamed of it.

    I’m no longer concerned with being perfect, masking my truth, or only showing a polished facade.

    What’s far more important to me is to show my humanity. To acknowledge my imperfections. To love my flaws. To let my clients and students know that I’m a work-in-progress.

    We live in a superficial culture that values appearances above all else. But if all we care about is how our lives look on the outside, we never get to actually live them. We end up spending more time worrying about how many ‘likes’ we get on our Instagram pictures than we do being present in the moment we take them.

    In my experience, the road to freedom is letting go of worrying about what others think.

    So much of my anxiety was caused by perpetual imposter syndrome. I wanted to be seen as someone who was bulletproof. Someone who navigated the world with ease and confidence. Someone who was wildly successful (without really trying) and looked good doing it.

    I worried about being “found out.” I thought if people knew how much I struggled with anxiety and depression, I’d be seen as a fraud and would be exposed as a failure.

    But the people who love and appreciate us for who we really are? Who see our vulnerability and accept us anyway? Those are the people we want in our world.

    Remember this: There’s no shame in suffering. The people who love me will support me when I need it. It’s safe to be who I truly am and let people see the real me.

  • A Guide to Peace for Anyone with a Crazy, Messed Up Mind

    A Guide to Peace for Anyone with a Crazy, Messed Up Mind

    “No thought has any power. You have power. And when you identify and believe in the thought, you give power to the thought.” ~Mooji

    It was 2004. I was on day three of a six-month meditation retreat, and my restless and turbulent mind was driving me nuts.

    The prospect of sitting on this wretched cushion for another five minutes (let alone six months) was freaking me out.

    “What on earth have I let myself in for? This is a crazy idea. I want to go home.”

    My restless monkey mind was more like King Kong on amphetamines.

    “No, remember how messed up you were before you arrived—and the crazy synchronicity that led you here,” a second, conciliatory voice chipped in.

    Destiny had indeed dragged my ass across the world onto this bright red meditation cushion in mysterious ways.

    Long story short, my housemate Jack had come to this meditation center after spraining his wrist and having to pull out of a yoga retreat he was supposed to attend in the US.

    A few days later, he called me to say he loved it there and believed he’d found his teacher. He was really excited.

    At the time, I was going through a particularly difficult period in my life. I had hit a brick wall and had no idea where to turn. So you can imagine my delight when I received a message from Jack, saying, “You’ll never guess what happened. I was talking to my teacher about you and he said, ‘Tell him to come to Canada as soon as he can and not to worry about the money. Just come.’”

    Ten days later, I found myself perched on a bright red meditation cushion on a stunning property in the Canadian Rockies.

    And this is where the real story begins.

    As I sat on my cushion on day three, my restless mind was spinning out on overdrive. I needed help.

    Unable to sit any longer, I stood up and approached the head monk:

    “I’m really struggling here. I need to talk,” I said.

    The conversation that ensued remains etched in my mind to this day. It went something like this:

    “What’s the problem?” he asked with a look of compassion.

    “I can’t stop thinking,” I replied.

    “No, you can’t,” he smiled.

    I was taken aback. It wasn’t the answer I was expecting.

    “Nobody can. If you didn’t have a crazy, messed up mind, you wouldn’t be human.”

    “But I’m going nuts. My mind is driving me crazy,” I pleaded.

    “What the mind gets up to needn’t be any of your business,” he continued. “You are suffering because you’re open for business. You need to shut up shop. Just relax, be alert, and focus on your breath. Let the thoughts come and go without resistance. Leave the mind in peace to do its thing and it will leave you in peace to do yours. The mind can only trouble you if you entertain it.”

    If You Didn’t Have A Crazy, Messed Up Mind, You Wouldn’t Be Human

    Boy, that’s quite a statement!

    We tend to see ourselves as special cases.

    Nobody is quite as screwed up as I am, right?

    If people only knew the nonsense that goes on inside my head, I’d have no friends at all, right?

    Over the following six-month period, many of my long-held beliefs about the nature of the mind and the causes of suffering crumbled away.

    When I showed up in Canada, I was riddled with self-judgment. I believed that finding peace (if it was even possible, which I doubted) would be a monumental task, requiring a complete overhaul of my broken mind.

    Here are some of the key points I came to understand:

    • Being messed up is an inevitable and unavoidable part of being human. Don’t beat yourself up over it.
    • Peace of mind is an illusion because restlessness is the nature of mind. Disturbance and mind are one and the same thing.
    • You don’t need to change or fix your thoughts in order to experience peace. You need to recognize the mind for what it is.
    • There is no distance between you and peace. It is available to each of us in every moment… no matter what is going on in the mind.

    Over time, I began to grasp and apply what my teacher meant by shutting up shop and minding your own business.

    I learned that the key to experiencing ongoing contentment is to leave the mind in peace to do it’s crazy, messed up dance—in other words, to mind your own business.

    “Allow thoughts to arise but don’t give them a place to land.” ~Papaji

    Peace is the natural consequence of not minding what the mind gets up to.

    Fast forward six months and I was a person transformed.

    I was now finding my time on the cushion enjoyable and hugely rewarding. I was quite prone to experiencing blissful episodes… even with a chaotic mind. I had never known peace like this before.

    I had also, much to my own surprise, taken my novice vows as a monk and received a new name. I wondered how that was going to go down with my family at home!

    The following are seven key lessons I learned for dealing with an unruly mind to experience ongoing peace.

    1. See the thoughts, don’t be the thoughts.

    The first and most important step toward reclaiming your peace is to create some blue sky between you and the mind—to see your thoughts as objects rather than being enmeshed in them.

    See the thoughts, don’t be the thoughts.

    Thoughts are like clouds floating across the vast sky.

    White clouds come and go. Dark clouds come and go. They are temporary and don’t affect the sky in any way. Every cloud is welcome. The sky has no preferences and remains untouched.

    And it’s the same with the mind.

    Thoughts constantly change but your awareness is like the sky— vast and unchanging.

    Learning to step back and observe the passing thoughts with an attitude of dispassion and non-judgmental acceptance is the key to experiencing peace.

    The thoughts are not the problem. The real issue is your identification with them. Recognizing this can transform your life in an instant.

    2. Know there is nothing wrong with you.

    This was a big one for me.

    An ‘unholy’ thought appears in your head—a judgmental thought, a resentful thought, or a jealous thought—and you beat yourself up for having it.

    You believe that you shouldn’t be having thoughts like these—that there is something wrong with you.

    Well, there is nothing wrong. Everybody, without exception, has these kinds of thoughts. It’s called being human.

    The mind is part of the human apparatus, just like arms or eyes.

    It is very much like a computer. Your cultural conditioning, your DNA, and your unique set of life experiences determine the thoughts it churns out.

    Given your background and history, your mind could not be producing thoughts other than the ones it’s producing.

    Your thoughts are not personal. They are part of your programming, part of the human condition.

    3. Roll out the red carpet.

    When thoughts you label “good” enter your awareness, they meet with no resistance. You are quite happy for them to hang around.

    When you label a thought as “bad” or “undesirable,” you reject it. It’s unwelcome.

    It is this tendency to judge unwanted thoughts as bad or wrong that creates suffering.

    Thoughts are not inherently good or bad. You make them so through your labeling. They are neutral events passing through your awareness and left alone, have no power to make you suffer.

    Let them come and go. Remain as the observer. Don’t give them a place to land.

    Roll out the red carpet for all thoughts—the good, the bad, and the ugly.

    Treat all thoughts as honored guests and watch your peace and happiness blossom.

    4. The mind is a bigger liar than Pinocchio.

    “I discovered that when I believed my thoughts, I suffered, but that when I didn’t believe them, I didn’t suffer, and that this is true for every human being. Freedom is as simple as that. I found that suffering is optional.” ~Byron Katie

    Take everything the mind tells you with a large pinch of salt.

    Question, in particular, your beliefs and assumptions.

    Every day, we unconsciously make so many assumptions.

    If you dislike your job, for example, you probably make the assumption, before you even leave the house in the morning, that your day won’t be enjoyable.

    Be innocent. Be prepared for surprises.

    Ask yourself the question: “Do I know for certain that this belief, this assumption, is true?”

    Can you find evidence to support the opposite?

    You may well find that it is surprisingly easy to disprove some of your long-held beliefs.

    5. Don’t allow thoughts to turn into thinking.

    Thoughts are self-arising. They appear by themselves from nowhere. There is nothing you can do to stop them from appearing. It is simply the mind doing what it does.

    Thinking, on the other hand, is a choice.

    A thought such as: “She hasn’t called for two hours” triggers a stream of thoughts:

    “Did I say something wrong? Maybe she’s having second thoughts? She probably finds me unattractive. She looks like she works out a lot. Maybe she thinks I’m not good enough for her.”

    This is thinking (and it is also based on unfound beliefs).

    The original thought arrived by itself. You didn’t choose it. The resulting stream of thoughts, on the other hand, is something you can choose to indulge in or not.

    Thinking is a choice. The more you become aware of your tendency to do this, the easier it becomes to stop yourself mid- sentence.

    Most of our thinking is unconscious. We create so much unnecessary suffering for ourselves through a simple lack of awareness.

    6. Know you are not your thoughts.

    Think of it logically. 
Anything you can objectify cannot be who you are.

    I (the subject) am aware of the book (the object) lying on the table. Therefore, I can’t be the book.

    You can apply the exact same logic to thoughts, feelings, emotions, or the mind. Anything I can observe, I can’t be.

    Anything I call “my”—my thoughts, my feelings, my emotions—cannot be me.

    When you believe you are your thoughts, it is natural that you will judge them as “bad” or “wrong” and judge yourself for having them.

    Another metaphor used in meditation is the analogy of the screen and the movie. If there is a fire in the movie, the screen doesn’t get burned.

    The awareness that you are remains untouched by anything you are aware of. Your thoughts are not you. They are events passing across the screen of your awareness. Who you are doesn’t change.

    The awareness that you are doesn’t know happiness or unhappiness. It is only aware. It is always at peace.

    7. Withdraw your attention from the mind.

    When I first ‘got’ these simple truths, I had a massive Homer Simpson “DUH” moment.

    Why doesn’t everyone see this? It’s so obvious.

    And yet, without having had it pointed out to me, I would never have seen that engaging with the mind is optional, not obligatory.

    Having better understood the nature of the mind and the difference between thoughts and thinking, I now give it far less importance than I used to.

    I am much happier as a result, regardless of what kind of thoughts appear.

    Fear thoughts, doubt thoughts, and anger thoughts continue to arise as before. Now I know it’s simply the conditioned mind doing its thing. There is nothing wrong with any of it. I only suffer when I unconsciously resist or judge.

    Happiness is not about the absence of unhappy thoughts, feelings, and emotions. It comes from understanding that I am not defined by any of these. They are free to come and go as they please.

    The mind has as much or as little power over you as you give it.

    The mind is not your enemy. It is your most valuable ally—an incredible servant that is always there for you to use as you choose.

    “Mind: a beautiful servant or a dangerous master.” ~Osho

  • How Letting Go of the Need to be Special Changed My Life

    How Letting Go of the Need to be Special Changed My Life

    “Our society has become a conspiracy against joy. It has put too much emphasis on the individuating part of our consciousness—individual reason—and too little emphasis on the bounding parts of our consciousness, the heart and soul.” ~David Brooks

    When I was in elementary school, I avoided group projects like the plague. When given the choice to work alone or as part of a team, I always chose to work alone.

    When I joined a new class, club, or sport, my parents inquired how I measured up against the rest.

    “So what do you think, Hail?” Dad would ask me. “Are you the fastest on the team? Did you get the highest grade?”

    In the years that followed I formed clubs, climbed to leadership roles, and sought only the most competitive opportunities.

    Later, I became fully self-employed as a coach. I had no colleagues—only clients. In my mid-twenties I moved to the Pacific Northwest in the name of novelty and exploration, leaving behind a thriving, New Jersey-bound network of extended family.

    I received a great deal of positive feedback for these decisions. I was succeeding, bucking social convention in favor of self-discovery, and family and friends described me as “brave,” “inspiring,” and “motivated.” I operated by a set of values that included fierce individualism and self-expression.

    This tale is as old as time among members of my generation. We’re the generation of digital nomad-hood, “Van Life,” and working from home. We value mobility. Wellness blogs laud alone time as the pinnacle of self-care. We spend hours each day on social media, seeking validation of our uniqueness and our worth.

    In The Second Mountain, NYTimes Bestselling Author David Brooks posits that this individualistic ethos is a backlash against the moral ecology of the 1950s, which emphasized group conformity, humility, and self-effacement. Since the 1960s, our culture has increasingly pushed back against collective identities, labels, and experiences, opting instead for boundless self-actualization.

    On one hand, I’m viscerally grateful for our culture’s modern emphasis on individualism. Women, especially, have waited centuries to receive cultural support to pursue our dreams and self-actualize. Likewise, as someone in recovery from codependency, I understand the critical importance of honoring my needs, my desires, and my choices. After all, it took years to break free from the shackles of people-pleasing and self-censorship.

    However, at a certain point, hyper-individualism stopped serving me and began hindering me. When my own specialness became the orienting principle for how I saw and interacted with the world, I lost touch with the belonging, trust, and community that culminate to form a rich and meaningful life.

    Individualism Gone Too Far

    As children, our caregivers and teachers celebrate us when we win awards, place first, and stand out. These celebrations become proxies for love—a love we have to work hard to earn.

    In adulthood, I hoarded my specialness, terrified that being “one among many”—in my career, in my lifestyle, in my heart—would leave me purposeless. I vested great effort into my hyper-individualism because I subconsciously believed it was the only way to feel seen and valued.

    I rarely fathomed the benefits of being a contributor, a member of a group, or a vessel for a greater moral or spiritual cause. I balked at “teamwork” and “service” because they threatened to rob me of my self-assigned elevated status. In fact, I judged those who advocated such ideals. These people have no identity, I scoffed. No dreams of their own. 

    Though my hyper-individualistic life had many socially sanctioned perks—I developed powerful leadership skills, special occasions found me swollen with pride, and my Instagram following climbed—I grappled with:

    Isolation. When I singularly prioritized my personal goals, personal time, and personal life, I didn’t have any allies. I was a lonely team of one. Though I made commitments to people and causes, I could be unreliable, self-centered, and flighty when better opportunities arose. I assumed that others would be the same. This left me with a sense of loneliness and skepticism that underscored even my most treasured connections.

    Detachment. A life dictated by hyper-individualism is a life detached from true connection. I often felt like a free-floating satellite, certain that no community—geographical, political, artistic, you name it—could give me as much joy as the pursuit of my goals.

    Anxiety. When our identities are based on being special, life is a relentless uphill climb. We will never be enough; we must constantly strive to be better, try harder, and achieve more. Under such circumstances, self-compassion is a distant possibility. Instead, anxiety becomes our daily companion, the soft whisper that erodes opportunities for peace and contentment.

    Finding Balance

    Throughout my years of hyper-individualistic thinking, I never realized that when we devote parts of ourselves to others, we benefit—really benefit—in return. The benefits of service and community aren’t just fluffy incentives for inspirational posters. Purpose, belonging, and a deep sense of trust arise when we willingly commit ourselves to other people, other causes, and other definitions of a meaningful life.

    I began to understand this truth when I befriended members of a group whose guiding principles espoused service, humility, and community. Upon first exposure to these ideals, my entire being revolted. These were the contrived, sing-song “values” that I’d spent my life trying to avoid.

    I spent months in a state of schism. On the one hand, I didn’t see how an other-centered life could serve me; I wasn’t taught to. I could only imagine how it would crush my identity and distract from my dreams. My ego was terrified. I wanted to hightail it out of there.

    But something kept me there, bearing silent witness to my discomfort, eyeing this community with curiosity. My new friends seemed anything but identity-less. In fact, they seemed embodied, peaceful, and genuinely happy. Their lives were not dictated by the ever-changing highs and lows of daily successes. They emanated groundedness and seemed to lack the existential woes that plagued most members of my generation.

    In retrospect, I believe I stayed because a part of me—a deeply hidden and deeply human part—was lonely, tired of the narrowness of my world, and craving something more.

    One night, something happened. My desperate, exhausted ego relinquished its grasp on my hyper-individualism. It was as if a switch had flipped within me. I felt a sudden, fierce desire to entrench myself in commitments to communities, to people, to a moral philosophy I could call my own. I felt like a wide-eyed, open-hearted child asking, “What now?”

    I don’t know exactly what happened that night— but since then, my values and philosophy have shifted with no effort on my part. Here’s what I’ve noticed:

    I feel more deeply connected to the people around me.

    Before, I spent most interactions with others noticing our differences. Disparities in age, experience, privilege, and values felt as palpable and prohibitive as walls. Now, I find myself noting similarities and relating more deeply to others’ experiences. Their stories penetrate the walls of my heart because I’m not hyper-focused on myself. My eyes well with tears at narratives of tragedy and stories of joy. Rich wells of empathy have taken up residence in me.

    My anxiety decreased dramatically.

    I no longer spend my days driven by the compulsion to overachieve or “prove” my value. My worth no longer depends on being special—and it’s liberating! Instead of being swallowed by a self-referential whirlwind, plagued by decision fatigue and perfectionism, I’m able to slow down, interact deeply and meaningfully with others, and relax into the comfort of my communities.

    I’m more curious.

    When specialness was my orienting principle, the only information I wanted to consume was related to my personal growth and my goals. Letting go of hyper-individualism allowed me to feel more a part of the human race and more a part of this Earth.

    Now, information of all kinds fascinates me. I get a kick out of watching Blue Planet, going to lectures on helicopter parenting, and reading memoirs by Midwestern farmers. None of this information is directly relevant to my experience, but it doesn’t matter. I’m intrigued by what the world has to offer.

    I know that everything’s going to be okay.

    Relinquishing my hyper-individualism helped me understand that I’ll never be truly alone. Now that I’m willing to commit myself deeply to others, I experience newfound depths of intimacy, trust, and safety. Even if I suffer a tragedy or loss, I will have a thick web of people to support me. I know this to be true because I would do the same for others.

    When I began this journey, I was certain that if I let go of my fierce individualism, I’d become amorphous and mundane. Instead, I became more deeply entrenched in the world around me. It has been an incredible gift.

    We tend to understand self-actualization as learning how to feel our feelings, comprehend our values, pursue our dreams, and express our highest selves. I believe that that’s true—and I believe that there’s more. Once we feel embodied in our own identities, I believe that the utmost manifestation of self-actualization is commitment to something greater: love for other people, overarching values, or warm communities.

    Letting go of the need to be special allowed me to see, with clear eyes, the abundance of connection, compassion, intimacy, and community all around me. It helped me begin to experience the world in its fullness—not as a leader, a facilitator, or a director, but as a member, participant, and recipient of its daily miracles.

  • I Didn’t Know How to Let Love In… Until Now

    I Didn’t Know How to Let Love In… Until Now

    “You open your heart knowing there’s a chance it may be broken one day and in opening your heart, you experience a love and joy that you never dreamed possible.” ~Bob Marley

    A few months ago I was visited by my mother in a dream; my deceased mother who took her own life thirty years ago.

    In my dream, I was sitting on the floor of my bedroom thinking about my teenage daughter, who is around the same age I was when my mother died. I felt like my daughter was in distress, and I wanted to help her.

    As I sat and pondered, I looked up and saw a blanket coming toward me. I knew it was my mother trying to comfort me, but I could not see her. I only felt her. I was confused and uncomfortable with her presence and why she was there.

    She then became visible in her ethereal form, beautiful and healthy as I once remembered her long ago. A victim of mental illness, she had fought her own demons for years before making the decision to end her life.

    Her exit from this world shaped the path of mine. I had not dreamt of her in many, many years.

    From an early age I was her confidante. She shared her fears with me, as well as her insecurities and her deep depression. I took on the role as her caretaker and emotional support. She was desperate to be loved, and I was desperate to help her feel it. I felt I had to. If I didn’t, I might lose her.

    She opened her arms to hug me in my dream, and I instinctively pulled away. This was not our relationship, and I didn’t trust it. It was not her job to comfort me. I was the one who comforted her. It didn’t feel safe.

    She waited in silence with her arms wide open as I resisted. I was curious, but cautious. I slowly leaned in and felt her embrace… and then, I let go.

    I let her hug me. I released my fear, leaned in even closer, and let my body go limp as I wept in her arms.

    I have never experienced anything like it. A feeling of complete surrender and letting go into the care of someone else where I did not have to be strong. I did not have to fix anything. I did not have to make anything okay. I let myself be embraced by a love so powerful and comforting… just for me.

    When I woke up, I felt an enormous wave of peace and contentment. Scribbling down insights and details at 4am so I wouldn’t forget.

    I spent the next day enamored with the aha moments that followed. I saw the patterns that began early on that I couldn’t quite grasp. The fear of attachment and commitment. The danger I felt getting close to people. How giving love was a survival tactic to get my basic needs met and how receiving love felt dangerous and unknown.

    It wasn’t that I didn’t want to fully experience being loved by others, I didn’t know how. I saw the push and pull in my relationships. I wanted to get close to people, but it felt risky. The closer they would become the more I would internally retreat in protection.

    I had a strong desire to be connected to others, but the resistance that came with it was fierce. So much fear.

    I married in my mid-twenties feeling I had a strong connection with my husband and I would comfortably ask for what I needed. Yet the more attached I became, the more my anxiety around loss intensified.

    I feared arguments would lead to the end of the relationship. I was convinced that if I didn’t shape myself to meet his expectations I would no longer be welcome in his life. I felt the pressure to assess his needs while ignoring my own, which eventually led to long-term resentment and the disconnect of our relationship.

    Instead of telling my husband, I withdrew enough to deem the relationship no longer working. I was too scared to ask for what I wanted, assuming rejection and defeat. My biggest fear was that he would leave. Instead of waiting for the inevitable end, I chose to leave him before he left me, which led to another debilitating fear—that I would hurt him.

    I always felt I had to be tough, the one who took the hits. Because my childhood experiences with an emotionally unavailable parent positioned me as the caregiver, I believed that was my role in relationships. I did not think I had earned the right to support my own emotional needs.

    And due to the fact that I’d failed to save my mother when she was in the most pain, an unwarranted, yet longstanding guilt created a fear of hurting others. I would rather put their needs over my own and “suck it up” so they didn’t have to experience what I had become an expert at—enduring pain.

    After spending significant amounts of time with myself, comforting the wounds of loss from my twenty-plus year relationship, and getting to know who I was independently, I began to nurture my vulnerable heart. I realized my lack of love and compassion for myself was keeping me in a cycle of dysfunctional and unhealthy attachments.

    As my heart strengthened and healed, I was introduced to new friendships with those who were willing to be open and vulnerable, and slowly began to do the same.

    I noticed the more comfortable I became in my own skin, the easier it became to expose my true self. Yet, this didn’t elevate my trust in relationships, their intentions, or how long they would last. I continued to keep those I loved at arms length in fear that they could be gone at any time.

    Although I practiced trust, and even teach ways to move through fear in my career as a psychotherapist, it did not make trusting relationships any easier for me. I trusted myself and my own decisions, but when it came to interpersonal relationships I continued to fear connection and loss of love.

    As I began to allow in healthier connections, my real challenges began to unravel. I wanted more intimate relationships equally as much as I feared them.

    I started to notice how quickly I wanted to bail if things felt uncomfortable. I felt the inner sirens blare in alert when any kind of threat or disagreement began to brew.

    My desire to run is almost instantaneous, like a reflex. I keep my shield up as I find the quickest way off the battlefield to protect my heart. It is a true challenge to not react based on fears that I developed long ago, despite the fact that my life is completely different, as am I.

    This self-awareness combined with a consistent practice to respect my fears, has allowed me to make the changes I know are necessary. I now choose to change my patterns by doing the opposite of what I normally do. If I want to run, I stay put. If I want to shut down my emotions, I give myself the space to feel them so they move through me and dissipate.

    If I want to pick a fight because I’m scared and want out, I practice sitting with it, or even better, I calmly verbalize my needs. I practice the pause to make sure I am not sabotaging something that is “normal” and will pass with space and calming of my internal wiring. I allow myself time to listen to what my fear is saying to me and question if it is real or imagined.

    I’m learning to say how I feel out loud instead of hiding my irrational thoughts. The more I express them and work through them, the more I am realizing they’re just the way I’ve protected myself, but I don’t need them anymore. They are outdated, but still need the comfort of being heard and not dismissed.

    The more I’ve changed my response to allowing love in, the more loving relationships and friendships I attract. With people who talk through difficulties and don’t threaten to leave. People who know my tears are normal and don’t criticize my skittish reactions to life. People who somehow inspire me to believe that maybe I really am enough.

    I believe my mother’s message to me in my dream was really rather simple. My fears have been under the guise that love can be taken away, but my mother’s embrace showed me that love does not die. It changes forms. That each experience in my life has been a lesson of love, whether an opportunity to feel more love for myself or compassionate love toward others, knowing their own fears of loss of love are the same.

    Every time one door has closed in my life, another has opened. Each person who has showered me with love and left has made space for more love to come in. And this is true for all of us.

    Most of us are carrying around insecurities in relationships due to our experiences growing up. We’re scared of being hurt or rejected, and it’s tempting to close down—to shut love out so it can’t be taken away. But we need to trust that opening our hearts is worth the risk, and that even if someone leaves us, we can fill the hole in our heart with our own self-love and compassion.

    The night after my dream, my independent, headstrong adolescent daughter asked me to lie down with her at bedtime. This is a rarity, as she has grown to not need me in her self-sufficient ways. I melted with the chance to put my arm around her as she released tears of pent up stress and fears of change. I recognized her sadness; I have felt the same.

    My dream had come full circle. I am the mother I always wanted; the unconditional love and support I craved. And I am here to teach my daughter that she, too, is not alone and love will never leave her.

    Although I know my own work of self-love and acceptance will continue, I see now the rewards of opening my heart won’t cease. To let love in we must practice not shutting it out. In the end, it’s all we really want, and we can have it, if we open up to it.

  • Everything Seems to Be Falling Apart… Because It Is

    Everything Seems to Be Falling Apart… Because It Is

    “A bird sitting on a tree is never afraid of the branch breaking, because its trust is not on the branch, but in its own wings. Always believe in yourself.”  ~Unknown

    If you’ve ever stopped and thought, “What the hell am I doing?” or “How did I end up here?” believe me when I tell you that you are one of many—including me.

    Feeling lost is stressful enough, but what about when we disappoint ourselves more than anyone around us? What do we do when we have no sense of direction or purpose, and dwindling confidence in ourselves?

    I haven’t yet figured it all out, but that’s just fine. That’s the point exactly, that we don’t have to figure it all out right now. You can be hurting and healing at the same time, they’re not mutually exclusive.

    I found myself in what would be one of the darkest moments of my life at the ripe age of twenty-five. My girlfriend of five years and I split up as I was planning to propose, an F4 tornado destroyed my hometown, and I quit a successful job in advertising all in a matter of months.

    The truth is, I wasn’t happy in my relationship (even though I told myself I was over the years and through a myriad of fights). I wasn’t truly happy in my career. And I was missing a lot from life in general.

    So I took a hard look at myself—twenty-five, single, jobless, and feeling empty. Not empty in the lonely sense of the word. Empty in that I would wake up in the middle of the night and not see her next to me. Empty in that all my peers were on life’s highway setting goals for themselves, breaking them, and setting new ones thereafter.

    Every opportunity that I had been afforded, I took advantage of and excelled in. But I never found that one thing that fueled the fire in my heart. I don’t think I ever discovered my passion. By twenty-five, surely I must have been getting close, right?

    Many of my friends knew exactly what they wanted to do from a young age. Deep down, I envied that. To know my purpose was what I longed for. So why was I not one of those that automatically knew?

    I don’t yet have that answer, as you might’ve intuited, but I have found two things to be true thus far:

    1. Yes, some people know what they want early in life. But they are the exceptions to the rule.

    Many successful people we know today found success later in life. Stan Lee started the Marvel Universe at thirty-nine, Charles Darwin wrote On the Origin of the Species at fifty, and Grandma Moses began painting at seventy-eight years old.

    Then there are the countless people you’ve never heard of—and probably never will—who found meaning and passion later in life, or found it, lost it, then found it again.

    2. Maybe we are meant to do more than one thing.

    It’s our understanding of success that helps us define when we’ve reached it. Rather than think of success as one destination, we can choose to see it as the car ride from spot to spot, each equally exciting.

    So how do you recover when you feel as though life took you, chewed you up, and spit you back out? You don’t… at least not really.

    I stumbled upon a great quote a few days ago that read, “When people say recovery, you typically think of returning to how you were before. But there is no going back. You do not merely recover, but reinvent yourself. You become something completely different from what you were before.”

    I read that over and over until I felt the wisdom shiver itself into my bones.

    Many times we take a step back from situations to recover, when in fact what we may need to do is reinvent ourselves if we can no longer return to what we used to be.

    It’s not a negative thing, to reinvent who you are. In fact, it’s one of the most liberating experiences you will ever have. You just have to let yourself.

    If you’re anything like me, you are your own biggest critic. And although this can help us keep ourselves accountable, it can prevent us from broadening our horizons. We internally set limits for ourselves based on past experiences, thinking that we can only go as far as we’ve already been. When you learn to let go of the things that no longer serve your purpose but only hinder you, then can you truly soar.

    Let yourself gain new talents and explore new things outside of your comfort zone.

    Sometimes it’s important to let go of the oars and simply float the river. So often we try and paddle upstream when in reality we’d be better off letting the river guide us downstream, to where we haven’t been before.

    Think back to every missed opportunity that you were disappointed with. Many (if not all) of those so called missed opportunities were actually guideposts. Even the accomplishments that didn’t last served their purpose. They were not meant to last, they were only meant to change you.

    What if I would’ve gotten married? I would have never had the opportunity I have right now to move away to Colorado and explore new horizons.

    What if that Tornado wouldn’t have hit my hometown? I used that as a chance to rebuild my home from the ground up, when I wanted to remodel anyway.

    And if I had stayed in the security of advertising? Sure, things would be financially stable, but instead I chose to finally pursue my passion for teaching.

    So yes, every single experience in life is an opportunity for growth, whether it lasts forever or not.

    I had a baseball coach in high school who would always say, “We learn more from the games we lose than the ones we win.” I carry that with me to this day. Maybe it’s because we analyze more when we lose, or maybe it’s because it forces us to change our game plan for next time. But trust that next time, you’re starting from experience, not from zero.

    So trust that when everything seems to be falling apart, new things are coming together. But you have to be open to embrace them. Simply float the river. The point of life is not in the destination, it is in the journey. But we are led to believe that life is serious and that it must be leading us to some grand destination.

    I’ve found that life is more like a dance. No dancer points to a spot on the dance floor and says, “That’s where I must end up at.” The whole point of the dance is the dance.

    So I’ll leave you with three things that I’ve found help me on this journey I find myself on:

    1. Name three good things about your day.

    At the end of each day, speak aloud three good things that happened. They don’t have to be grand, just the little wins we often overlook. I helped my friends move, I beat my time in the mile, etc. These help remind me that in the middle of the storm, there are still accomplishments in the day and things to be thankful for. That, in turn, can change your mood and set the tone for tomorrow.

    2. Exercise and eat healthy.

    How you feel is tied closely to the food you consume. Make it a point to eat healthier and to exercise. This won’t only improve your mood, but also your self-confidence and overall health.

    I’ve found that whenever life throws challenges at me, one constant that I can count on is the gym. When I’m working out, nothing outside of those four walls matters. It’s my escape, if you will.

    3. Keep a journal.

    Although life is about the journey, having a sense of direction can anchor us when we’re feeling lost.

    Write down what you want (out of your next relationship, out of life, etc.). Jot down your thoughts, fears, and feelings as you sit with uncertainty and find a way forward. Journaling is cathartic and can help ease much of the pain. It can also help you feel a sense of progress. One of my favorite things to do is to look back on old entries, which can help me see how far I’ve come.

    So no, this isn’t the end for you. You will survive and you will look back one day and be so proud of yourself for doing what you thought to be impossible. How do I know? Because if you’re reading this, you still believe in yourself. You still have hope that there are exciting new chapters left to be written, even if you don’t yet know what to do, or how.

    As I stated at the beginning, I don’t have it all figured out just yet, but that’s okay. I don’t know where this journey will lead me, but I know it will be exciting and filled with adventure. And in the process, I hope that you too, will find whatever is it that fuels that fire in your heart. Don’t give up, don’t give in.

    So yes, ultimately everything seems to be falling apart, but I’m finally starting to see that it’s because something better is coming together. Trust your journey, and even if the branch breaks when you sit on it, your wings will help you soar to new heights.

  • How Empaths Can Stop Sacrificing Their Needs for Other People

    How Empaths Can Stop Sacrificing Their Needs for Other People

    “Sometimes you don’t realize you’re actually drowning when you’re trying to be everyone else’s anchor.” ~Unknown

    Have you ever felt trapped?

    No, actually, have you ever felt absolutely paralyzed? Like you’re fearful of making any choices at all? It feels like any step you take could end in utter catastrophe.

    Five years ago, that was me.

    I was living in a small, run-down house in Peru, in a city that I didn’t want to be in, far away from family and friends, and I was in a relationship that wasn’t working.

    At the time I worried that any decision I made would determine not only my fate, but also my ex-partner’s fate, and that of our housemates, who happened to be family members.

    My monkey mind was telling me that if I left, it would mean everyone would have to go back to their respective cities and it would be the end of the house, a business, and the world (they did and it wasn’t).

    As an empath, I lived on the assumption that it was important for me to make sure everyone else was okay. I let myself get trapped in a thick forest of stories about other people’s emotions and well-being.

    It was torture, and ultimately, at the end of the day, I was wrong. There was no way I could know the future. I needed to do what I believed was best for me. My obsessive man-management was not my job to take on. On some level, I was simply trying to be the hero.

    My intentions, for the most part, came from the right place. But I had taken on a role that wasn’t mine in the first place, and truthfully the perceived burden made me frustrated, resentful, and all in all, a less enjoyable person to be around.

    If you are an empath and you’ve found yourself stuck in a situation where you are sacrificing your needs and mental health for other people, then it’s time to stop doing so. When you are free from the weight of trying to save others from potential pain and discomfort you will have the energy to be present for them.

    Here are five ways that you can stop sacrificing your needs for other people.

    1. Recognize that you don’t know what’s going on in their head.

    A lot of the time when we try to help others, we paint detailed images in our mind about the past, present, and future. This may include what they’re thinking, what they once thought, what they’re feeling, how they once felt, how they acted in the past, and how they will act in the future. The problem with all of these mental images is, we can never truly know!

    I thought, for example, that if I left the situation, my roommate was going to be mad at me. When I finally left so did he, and in reality he was very happy to move on. My imaginary story about how he would act was completely off the mark.

    2. See where it’s making you secretly resent people.

    Try and notice when you are starting to resent people because of your obsession with helping them. If you feel agitated, frustrated, or annoyed by the burden of managing their feelings and needs, this is usually a clear indication that you, as an empath, need to take a step back.

    When we build these ideas and storylines about the way things are, they inevitably clash with reality. Why? Because the map is not the territory.

    If we can be mature enough to drop our attachment to stories about ourselves and others, then our frustrations over how a situation is playing out can be seen for what they are—just ideas.

    My feeling of being trapped was entirely self-imposed, but when I was smack bang in the middle of it, the story was that it was everyone else’s fault—as if they were reaching inside my mind and making me prioritize (what I perceived to be) their best interests over my own.

    3. In the case of an emergency, put on your own safety mask first.

    You can’t help anyone if you can’t help yourself. When you notice that your health is starting to suffer as a result of your attempt to help other people, you need to take some guilt-free time for yourself. When your batteries are recharged, then maybe you can try and lend a helping hand again, but until then, focus on self-care. You have a limited amount of energy; use it wisely.

    4. Realize that it’s not your job.

    Empathetic people tend to look around at the difficulties in the world and think, “If I don’t help them, who will?” I know I’ve done this, time and time again.

    We do this because we project our feelings onto someone else’s situation, making it seem worse than it is. We think, “If I were in their shoes, I’d feel…” But they’re not us, and we can’t possibly know what they feel and what they need unless they tell us. And even then, we’re not responsible for managing their feelings or meeting their needs.

    It’s hard to realize, but it’s not your job to save the world, and oftentimes people don’t actually need saving.

    I thought that my leaving the relationship would ruin everyone’s life, but truthfully I was only fearful that it would ruin mine. My ideas about the world made me see everyone else as vulnerable, but they were going to be just fine.

    5. Trust other people to solve their own problems.

    At times throughout my life, I have had an unnecessary need to control situations. When I was in a fearful mind-state, this habit tended to amplify.

    We don’t realize that we can control a lot less than we think, and that’s okay. You can never control what another person does, or thinks, or how their life ends up. To do so will only make you tired, and them frustrated. Give them some space to breathe and let them take the wheel. Trust that they can handle themselves. Things will work themselves out.

    Since I left that situation I’ve learned that it’s not my job to be the hero. Most of my attempts at controlling other people, and trying to make sure they don’t suffer, have stemmed from my fears. People tend to be stronger than we think, and our mental projections about the world are always less reliable than we take them to be.

    Remember, in the case of an emergency, put your own safety mask on first.

    Have you ever felt that as an empath your mental health has suffered?