Tiny Buddha

Tag: approval

  • My Secret to Overcoming the Painful Trap of Perfectionism

    My Secret to Overcoming the Painful Trap of Perfectionism

    “A meaningful life is not being rich, being popular, or being perfect. It’s about being real, being humble, being able to share ourselves and touch the lives of others.” ~Unknown

    Hello, I’m Kortney, and I’m a recovering perfectionist.

    Like so many of us, I spent the greater part of my life believing that unless something was perfect, it wasn’t good at all. There was really no in-between. If it wasn’t perfect, it was a failure.

    One of the problems with perfectionism is that it’s common to believe it’s a positive thing. In our society, people tend to value it. If you’re someone that aims for perfection, you must be accomplished. Driven. Smart.

    Have you ever had a sense of pride over being called a perfectionist?

    I have.

    Have you ever thought about why?

    Speaking for my own experience, when someone called me a perfectionist, I felt like even though I didn’t believe I was perfect, it meant that they were perceiving me as being perfect. They saw me as being one of the best, or as someone who was talented. It was validation that I was seen as someone who was good at things.

    My rabid thirst for this sort of validation fed the perfectionist machine for years.

    If you’re wondering what it means to be a perfectionist, here are a few traits:

    • Perfectionists obsess over mistakes, even when it’s not likely that anyone else even noticed.
    • Their self-confidence depends on being perfect.
    • They think in black and white—things are either good or bad. Perfect or failure.
    • They have unrealistic expectations and crazy-high standards for themselves and beat themselves up when they don’t meet them.
    • They put up a front that everything is perfect, even when it’s not, because the thought of someone else seeing their imperfection is unbearable.
    • Despite their quest for perfection, they don’t feel anywhere close to perfect.
    • They can’t accept being second-best at something. That’s failure.
    • They spend excessive time on projects because they’re always perfecting one last thing.
    • They spend a lot of time searching for external approval.
    • No matter what they do, they don’t feel good enough.

    At one point in my life, all of those bullet points described me well. I wasted so much time worrying about approval and validation so that I could feel like I was awesome. But I never felt even close to awesome. I never felt good enough at anything.

    Sure, there were times when I felt like I was good at something, but then I had to raise the bar. Just being good at something wasn’t enough. There was always another level to reach. The bar kept getting higher and higher, which isn’t necessarily a bad thing for people who are striving to make improvements in a healthy way, but for a perfectionist whose self-worth hinges on reaching the bar every time it’s raised, it’s not a positive.

    It was exhausting.

    After a lot of struggle in my life, I knew I needed to explore my perfectionist ways and find a way to be more compassionate toward myself. Perfectionism was holding me back from loving my life. And to be honest, I don’t think I intentionally set out to rid myself of the perfectionist mentality specifically. It came as a byproduct of a great deal of other personal work.

    I began to realize that I had many beliefs that were etched into my brain that weren’t helpful. Beliefs that I never thought to question. These beliefs also severely hindered my ability to be happy and to live the life I wanted to live.

    We all have belief systems that we don’t really think to question. We’ve grown up with them. We’ve learned them from the media, culture and society. But if we actually take a step back to notice that these thought patterns that inhibit our ability to grow and progress are there, we can start to question them.

    Some common limiting beliefs that keep people stuck in perfectionism are:

    • People reward me for having high standards. They are impressed and I gain approval.
    • The only time I get positive attention is when I am striving for big things or achieving.
    • If I make a mistake, I’m a failure.
    • If only I can make so-and-so proud with my achievements, he/she will love me, and I’ll be happy.
    • If I fail, I am worthless. Failing is not okay.
    • If I don’t check over everything multiple times, I’ll miss something and look like an idiot.
    • My accomplishments are worthless if they’re not perfect (i.e.: receiving a “B” instead of an “A” in a class is a failure),
    • If others see my flaws, I won’t be accepted. They won’t like me.

    The good news is that thoughts like these are examples of faulty thinking—faulty belief systems that keep you stuck in perfectionism. By identifying the specific thoughts and beliefs that keep you stuck in perfectionism, you can start to build new, more helpful thought patterns and belief systems.

    I also stumbled upon another secret for overcoming perfectionism.

    The secret is that I became okay with being average. I worked to embrace average.

    If you’re a perfectionist, you know that being called average feels like the end of the world. It’s a terrible word to hear. My inner critic was not having it. “How dare you even think average is okay?” it hissed.

    As a teenager, a twenty-something, and even a thirty-something, my world would have come to an end if I had accepted being average.

    But sometimes life has a way of making you better.

    Life has a way of putting things into your path and it presents opportunities for you to grow. Everyone has these opportunities at one point or another, but you have to notice them and choose to take advantage of them.

    There was a time not too long ago when I went through a really difficult time and had to rebuild my life.

    Looking back, I can see that the situation was an abrupt “lane-changer”—a push in a new direction to make a change. I was not living my best life and I wasn’t meant to stay stuck in that lane. I struggled with depression and anxiety, much of which was triggered by perfectionism.

    By working on thoughts like the ones I listed above, and working to accept lowering my standards—the ones that told me that achievement and success were the only way I would be worth anything—I gradually learned to replace my old standards with this one:

    Just be happy.

    Learning to make this my standard led me to a place where I am okay with being average. Eek! I said it. Average.

    Today, I can honestly say that I’m pretty happy with being average. Do I like to do well? Sure. But it doesn’t define my self-worth. While it’s created more space for me to fail, at the same time it’s created the space for me to succeed.

    The difference is that my self-worth isn’t tied to whether I succeed or fail.

    Here’s how I look at it:

    I’m really good at some things, but I’m not very good at other things. You are really good at some things.  And you aren’t very good at other things too. The good and the not-so-good all average out.

    At the end of the day, we are all just average humans. We are all the same. We’re humans trying to live the best life we can. We are more similar than we are different.

    Don’t you think that if we all ditched our quest to be perfect, or better than everyone else, we’d feel a little happier? Don’t you feel like we’d all be a little more connected?

    If you struggle with perfectionism, I invite you to take a look at the list of limiting beliefs above and see what resonates for you. What evidence can you find that can disprove these limiting beliefs? What would you like to believe instead? Try on those new beliefs and build them up with new evidence to support them.

    And along the way, work on accepting that you are enough, even if you’re average.

  • The Magic of Rewriting Our Most Painful Stories

    The Magic of Rewriting Our Most Painful Stories

    “When you bring peace to your past, you can move forward to your future.” ~Unknown

    It amazes me how things that happen in our childhood can greatly impact our adult lives. I learned the hard way that I was living my life with a deep wound in my heart.

    My father was a very strict man with a temper when I was little, starting when I was around seven years old.

    He had a way of making me feel like all my efforts were not enough. If I scored an 8 in a math exam, he would say, “Why 8 and not 10?” and then punish me. It was a time when some parents thought that beating their children was a way to “put them in place” and teach them a lesson. All this taught me, though, was that I was a disappointment.

    His favorite phrase was “You will never be better than me.”

    As I got older, his temper cooled down a bit, but one thing didn’t change: his painful remarks. “At your age, I was already married, had a house, a car, two daughters, and a piece of land… what have YOU accomplished? See? You will never surpass me.”

    It was his way of “inspiring me” to do better with my life, but it had the opposite effect on me. It was slowly killing my self-esteem.

    When my father passed away, I was seven-year-old Cerise all over again. At the funeral, I asked him, “Daddy, did I finally make you proud? Did I do good with my life?”

    This was the trigger that made me rethink what I was doing with my life. I had to stop for a moment to look at the past. This can be very difficult to do, but sometimes we need to face those painful events in order to understand the nature of our poor decisions and behavior.

    It helped me realize that, unconsciously, I was looking for my father’s approval in the guys I dated. And you know what? It got me nothing but disappointment and heartache, because I was looking for something that they couldn’t give me.

    Inside, I was still that little girl looking for her father’s love.

    When you are a child, you are considered a victim, but when you are a grown up, it is your duty to heal from what was done to you. You just can’t go through life feeling sorry for yourself and complaining about the hand you were dealt. This just keeps you stuck in a sad, joyless life and jeopardizes your relationships.

    In my case, I had to give that little girl the love she so needed in order to stop feeling lonely and stop making the same mistakes.

    The only approval that I needed was my own! When I realized that, I started learning to love myself—regardless of my accomplishments—and I also developed compassion toward my father because I recognized that he was raised the same way he raised me.

    He probably also felt he needed to be the best at everything he did in order to win his parents’ approval. And maybe he thought if I wasn’t the best at everything I did I would never be valued or loved by anyone else.

    Understanding this enabled me to forgive him, break the cycle, and finally let him go.

    So, what makes us slaves to anger, resentment, and abandonment issues? I think it’s the way we keep telling the story in our heads, and this is something that we can transform.

    Don’t get me wrong, I am not suggesting we sweep things under the rug and pretend like nothing happened. We cannot change the past, and certainly we cannot turn a blind eye to it, but we can modify the way we retell the story to ourselves, and this can be a step toward inner healing.

    I decided to give the difficult parts of my childhood experience another meaning. I edited the way I tell myself the story, and this is how it sounds now:

    “My father was a strict man because he wanted me to succeed in life. He taught me to give my best in every task assigned to me; he didn’t make things easier for me because he wanted me to become strong in character and to find a solution in every situation. Daddy constantly challenged me because he wanted me to develop my potential to the fullest so I could face life and its difficulties.

    I’m certain that when my father departed from this world, he did it in peace knowing that he left behind a strong and brave daughter.”

    This is now the story of my childhood, and you know what? I think I like this version better! It’s helped me close the wound I had in my heart. My childhood left a scar, but it’s not hurting anymore.

    My gift to you today is this: Close your eyes and picture a pencil. Do you know why a pencil has an eraser? To remove the things we don’t like, giving us the freedom to rewrite them into something that we feel more comfortable with.

    You can’t change the facts from your past, but you can change how you interpret them, so feel rewrite as much as you need.

    Your wounds will hurt a lot less when you broaden your perspective, try to understand the people who hurt you, and change the meaning of what you’ve been through.

  • 8 Ways to Stop Worrying About What Other People Think of You

    8 Ways to Stop Worrying About What Other People Think of You

    “You can’t force anyone to value, respect, understand, or support you, but you can choose to spend your time around people who do.” ~Lori Deschene

    It can be paralyzing.

    The worry about what other people think about you, I mean. That worry can hinder you from pursuing your dreams. It can stop you from expressing your true nature and stand in the way of the life you so badly want to create.

    This worry can easily get your mind wandering to dark places and trigger feelings of insecurity, anxiety, and self-doubt. When it has a grip on you, you do anything to avoid rejection, ridicule, and potential embarrassment. Better to be unseen than negatively judged, right?

    You know that you shouldn’t worry about what others think of you. But that’s just easier said than done.

    For a long time, I felt stuck because I was afraid of other people’s opinions. Due to this fear, I was terrified of pursuing a new career path. Eventually, I reached a point where I couldn’t take it anymore.

    I knew I had to deal with the fear and worry of other people’s judgment, or I wouldn’t be able to live the life I wanted. And I was not willing to compromise on that—neither should you.

    To help you move past the fear of other people’s opinions, I’ve put together a list of ideas that have helped me. Use this list as your go-to whenever your worries about what other people’s opinions get the best of you.

    1. Know that you’re not a mind reader.

    I used to assume that I knew what other people thought of me. But assumptions often lead to bad conclusions.

    When I left my corporate job to travel and pursue my own entrepreneurial endeavor, I was afraid of ex-colleagues judging my decision. I thought they would see me as naive, reckless, or foolish for making that decision.

    Turned out I couldn’t have been more wrong. During the following months and years, many of them became my greatest supporters! Some said I was brave for walking my own path, others opened up about their desires to do something similar. The takeaway here is: You never know what people think about you unless you give them a chance to speak.

    2. Understand that it’s never about you.

    This has been a game-changer for me! Hear this: Another person’s judgment about you is never about you—it’s about them. It’s a reflection of their fears, limitations, and perceptions.

    One of the closest people in my life told me that I was making a mistake by quitting my corporate job to start my own business.

    First, I felt that he judged me and didn’t support my decision. Later on, I realized that his reaction was a mirror of his beliefs, fears, and view on the world. For him, staying at a corporate job meant security, safety, and a good life.

    When I realized that he always had my best interest at heart, I felt nothing but compassion and love for him. To make sure you navigate your choices right, ask yourself: What do I want? What is the right thing for me to do?

    3. Stop judging yourself.

    Many times, we’re so aware of what we find awkward about ourselves that we look for others to confirm our beliefs. So, the judgment we fear from others is really a reflection of what we judge ourselves for. Sneaky, right?

    Be honest with yourself, what do you judge yourself for? It can be related to your health, career, relationship status, living situation, or looks. Then ask yourself why you judge yourself for this. What beliefs are driving the judgments? Do you believe it’s wrong to prioritize career over family? Do you believe it’s bad to be the center of attention?

    Once you challenge these beliefs and stop judging yourself, you’ll be able to make peace with who you are and the choices you’ve made, good and bad. Once you’ve reached acceptance, you won’t fear the judgment of others because you stand behind yourself.

    4. Stop judging others.

    The more we judge others, the more we tend to believe that they judge us. It’s a vicious cycle. So, instead of judging others for their choices, character, religious views, ways to dress, or something else, choose to be curious about the differences and diversity.

    Ask yourself what you can learn from this person? Why this person is in a certain way? Maybe there are reasons for it. As Wayne Dyer said, “When you judge another, you do not define them, you define yourself.”

    5. Use your worry as guidance.

    What is it that you worry other people will judge you for? Perhaps it’s your job position, living situation, relationship status, insecurities, looks, or intelligence. That worry tells you there’s either something you need to accept and make peace with or something you need to change.

    For example, maybe you can start pursuing a new career path that feels more aligned with your values. Or maybe you can choose to view your situation today as a stepping stone to something better. When you approve of yourself and your life, other people’s opinions won’t matter as much.

    6. Expect reactions from others.

    Instead of trying to avoid getting reactions from others, expect them! If you try a new plant-based diet, change career paths, or decide to go all-in on that geeky hobby of yours, expect people to say something about it. And take it as a good sign because it means you’re doing what’s right for you, even though people will have opinions about it.

    As Aristotle said, “There is only one way to avoid criticism: do nothing, say nothing, and be nothing.” And that’s not you, right? You are here to live to the fullest, follow what excites you, and be the incredible person that you are.

    7. Focus on long-term happiness.

    Judgment and criticism from others can hurt. But it will never hurt as much as regret. Do you know what most people regret on their deathbed? This: “I wish I’d had the courage to live a life true to myself, not the life others expected of me.”

    Be willing to take judgment and criticism in the short term, in exchange for what will serve you long term. Focus on living life true to yourself and not on the life others expect of you.

    8. Approve of yourself.

    Acceptance of yourself is what it all comes down to, right? Once you approve of yourself, you stop worrying about other people’s opinions. You have the one approval that matters most: your own.

    Look at your imperfections, flaws, and the choices you wish you had made differently and accept it all. Know that you are enough. Know that you’ve done the best you can, from where you once were. We all want you to be the person you are meant to be—including the quirks, flaws, and imperfections.

    —

    Living with the worry that other people will judge you is hard. It can keep you stuck, paralyzed, and separated from the life you want to live.

    It’s time to take your power back. Use this list, choose one or two points that resonate, and practice them. Then, once you’re ready, come back to the list and choose another point.

    Stop living in accordance with other people’s expectations and start living life true to yourself.

    Now, go out and show the world what you’re made of. We are waiting eagerly.

  • Confrontation Can Be Hard, But It’s Worth It

    Confrontation Can Be Hard, But It’s Worth It

    “When we can talk about our feelings, they become less overwhelming, less upsetting, and less scary.” ~Fred Rogers

    I was immediately uncomfortable when the older gentleman rode up on his bike and loudly told us that our kids shouldn’t be riding their bikes on the velodrome; it was against the rules.

    If it had been just me and my daughter, I would have said no problem and left the area, maybe even apologized. But I wasn’t alone, I was with my friend and her son, and my friend doesn’t back down from confrontation like I do.

    Instead of saying okay to him, she pressed him to explain himself. Where was the sign that said the kids couldn’t be riding their bikes (as this man was)? What was the issue?

    As I stood by uncomfortably, the two of them hashed things out. She turned to her son, age five, and told him that if he continued to ride on the tilted area of the track, this man might accidentally run into him, and asked if he understood that. Her son nodded his head.

    Suddenly, in the midst of the conversation, the man softened. He said he was just worried about hurting the kids, he wasn’t really mad, and soon he started coming up with suggestions for how the kids could stay safe. He said he’d call out before he got to where they were on the track, and then pointed out a blue line where, were they to stay below it, they would be safe, as he’d ride above it.

    The kids repeated the options, and my friend thanked the man for working with us to come up with a solution, then rode off. Each time he came around the track (he was much faster than our kids!), he’d yell out, and my friend’s son would get out of the way. My daughter chose to stay low, below the blue line, so she wasn’t in his way.

    This interaction may seem like nothing to you, but to me it was a big deal. Confrontation had been a very scary thing for me, something I avoided at all costs. The idea that my friend could not only stand up to confrontation, but elicit such a warm response from the person whom she was confronting left a huge impression on me.

    At that moment, I decided it was time for me to stop avoiding conflict. Lucky for me, I was almost immediately presented with many opportunities to prove to myself I could do it.

    First, I found out that a neighbor had an in ground pool with no fence around it. This made me feel uneasy (you know, because I have a five-year-old), and I felt like I at least needed to talk to him about it.

    You would be astonished at how nerve-wracking this was for me, but I knew I wanted to start talking to people, even when I was scared.

    The same day I decided I needed to speak to him, I got my chance. I was driving down the street, and there he was, walking. I pulled over and rolled down my window.

    I expressed that I hadn’t realized until the day before that his pool didn’t have a fence, and asked him if he’d ever considered putting a fence up.

    He said no, he’d had the pool built long before there were any regulations. I told him my daughter couldn’t swim yet and it made me nervous he didn’t have a fence. He acknowledged my concerns (though he wasn’t interested in building a fence), and then we parted ways.

    I made some calls to the local building and zoning departments, but apparently in the town where I live there aren’t any ordinances that would force my neighbor to build a fence, as he had hinted.

    The outcome of this encounter may not have been ideal, but I had to consider this a win. At least I’d spoken up and expressed my concerns, which I wouldn’t have done in the past.

    My next opportunity to express myself was at a kid’s birthday party, which was being held at a community pool. (Who knew pools caused so many confrontations!)

    A friend and I were talking, but someone kept squirting us with water. After a while we realized it was coming from an adult, which was a surprise, and we moved away from the area. Shortly thereafter, though, the squirting continued, this time hitting not only us, but the friends we’d moved closer to. It seemed clear at this point that we were being targeted on purpose.

    This would have been the perfect opportunity to confront the perpetrator, but my friend beat me to it, getting up out of her seat and marching over to the offender.

    It did not go well. I won’t get into the details, but she was called an offensive slur and a lifeguard ended up getting involved.

    It was during this incident that I was reminded why confrontation is so scary for me—what if someone gets mad at me?? However, I also saw that saying nothing meant being treated in a way that made me and everyone around me upset and uncomfortable, and no one should sit in silence in that sort of situation, even if it’s as minor as getting splashed at a pool.

    My third opportunity for confrontation came in my marriage, and I’m happy to say this one turned out very well, much better than the previous two encounters.

    My husband and I had been agitated, both in general and at each other, for a few days. One Friday morning we started talking about things and both ended up even more irritated, and our conversation ended with him making a comment about how I should (or rather, should not,) spend my money.

    Later in the morning, once we’d both had time to process things and my husband was at work, I called him.

    I told him all the ways I felt and all the ways I thought things were being mishandled in our relationship. By the end of the talk he was the one being proactive, suggesting that we needed to start carving out a block of reconnection time right after our daughter went to bed each night. He also apologized for his comment about the money.

    Confronting him about our disagreement and actually bringing into the light the things that were bothering me has made an enormous difference in our relationship. Since then I’ve felt confident in expressing how I feel at the moment I feel it, and he’s been incredibly receptive. I’m also more receptive to hearing feedback from him.

    I’ve had one other opportunity for confrontation since that day at the park, and this time it was regarding my daughter. And speaking up made me cry, but I’m glad I did it anyway.

    I had to take her to the dentist, something neither of us enjoys very much. I’m not a huge fan of this particular dentists’ office, but there aren’t many pediatric choices in my area.

    Admittedly, I was already not in a great headspace when we arrived at the appointment. We were taken to the back, and my daughter was asked to get up into the chair.

    The hygienist immediately started talking about how my daughter was going to have pictures taken (X-Rays), and then quickly started working on her teeth.

    My daughter starting crying at that point—she cries every time we go to the dentist. Have I mentioned she’s five?

    And then the hygienist started saying, over and over, “You don’t have to cry, stop crying, you don’t need to cry, don’t cry.” I came over and held my daughter’s hand and rubbed her leg, but the hygienist kept working and kept telling my daughter not to cry.

    This was really making my blood boil. If there’s one parenting tenant my husband and I stand by, it’s to let our child express and feel her feelings.

    This, coupled with the hygienist’s continued insistence that my daughter needed x-rays, but without discussing it with me first, pushed me over the edge.

    I started asking many, many questions about the necessity of the x-rays. As she answered with vague, boilerplate responses, I continued to feel frustrated, and realized I needed to tell her the thing that was really bothering me: Stop telling my daughter not to cry.

    She got defensive, and now it was my turn to start crying. I’m still new at this confrontation thing, and upsetting people, even when I disagree with them, makes me feel upset.

    I pressed forward, though, and told her that in our house, my daughter was allowed to express her emotions, even uncomfortable ones. I also told her I wanted to speak to the dentist about the x-rays and make my own choice about them.

    Later in the appointment, once I’d spoken to the dentist, my daughter was back in the chair getting the final treatment from the hygienist. She started to tear up again, and this time when the hygienist started to tell her not cry, she stopped herself. I considered that a win.

    Confrontation is really, really hard. For me, at least.

    I think it’s worth it, though. In just the month or two since I was inspired to start facing conflicts head on, I’ve improved my relationship with my husband and proven to myself that I’m willing to stand up for my child, which makes me feel like I’m being the mom I want to be.

    I think in order to start confronting others, you need a bit of bravery and a bit of a plan.

    You have to decide that you’re actually willing to talk to others, even if it’s going to be uncomfortable. Instead of making up random excuses in your head, you have to silence those fears and just go for it, no matter how worried you are about the outcome.

    My experience has shown me that it’s best to have a conversation when you’re calm, although that’s not always possible. When it is possible, though, I think being calm allows you to have perspective on the issues you really care about and have a clear vision of what you’re hoping to get out of the confrontation.

    In fact, I think that might be one of the most important factors to consider if you decide to take this on: What are you trying to achieve? Confrontation just for the sake of confrontation is pointless; you must have a reason to speak up.

    Do you want your boss to give you a raise? Do you want your sister to treat you like an adult? Do you want your child to move out of the house? Do you want your friend to start paying more attention to you than her phone? Figure it out ahead of time if at all possible.

    Once you’ve got a goal, you can decide what points you’d like to cover. This is, once again, assuming you’re able to pre-plan the confrontation.

    But what if you’re not? What if it sneaks up on you?

    Well, I think you have to do what I did at the dentist. You have to speak your truth in that moment, even if you cry. Yelling is acceptable, too, of course, though that may make it harder for the person to whom you are speaking to really take in what you’re saying.

    Remembering what you hope to get out of this is the most important thing, though. What’s your goal?

    Ultimately, confrontation will probably improve your life.

    Sometimes, though, you might lose a relationship. Your partner may not want you to stand up for yourself. Your coworker may not want you to take on more work and receive more credit. Your parents might not like that you’re leaving your high paying job for something that feels more satisfying to you.

    You’re not doing this for other people, though; you’re doing it for yourself. To prove that you know what you want and are not afraid to talk to other people about it. You’re not afraid to show the world what you really think and feel. You’re not willing to be treated poorly.

    In the end, anything that allows you to express what’s inside you is worth it. Even if you can’t get that fence built.

  • How I Went From the Pain of People-Pleasing to the Freedom of Being Me

    How I Went From the Pain of People-Pleasing to the Freedom of Being Me

    “How hurtful it can be to deny one’s own true self and live a life of lies just to appease others.” ~June Ahern

    Growing up I felt lost, separate, and different from everyone else in my family. After all, everyone else was a fit; they pursued the same hobbies, had the same aspirations, and even thought in the same way (everything was very black and white with hardly any grey areas). I was interested, it seemed, in everything they were not interested in.

    I had a different way of looking at the world. Any task I was asked to do I did my way, which, of course, was wrong and not fast enough. No matter how hard I tried to please, to get attention, to be listened to, I failed.

    When my parents weren’t judging, criticizing, and shouting at me, I felt invisible to them. Because I believed everything they said to me and about me, and sensed that I was a disappointment to them, a part of me slowly started to give up. When my grandparents supported and encouraged me, especially when they realized I had an interest and talent for athletics, I felt great.

    As far as my dad was concerned, it didn’t matter whether I succeeded or failed. He managed to find something wrong with everything I did.

    Because I put so much importance and belief in what he said, instead of feeling proud of what I had achieved, I felt empty, not good enough, and like there was something wrong with me. To say I had low self-esteem would be an understatement.

    In my early twenties, I didn’t know what I wanted to do with my life, so, still trying desperately to fit in and please them, I ended up working in a bank. They thought this was a respectable job, but I hated it.

    Over time I realized I didn’t know myself or what I wanted anymore. I’d lost contact with how I truly felt. I tried to be someone that they would accept, until I realized that person didn’t exist and couldn’t be found.

    I sought fulfillment in external things, buying clothes I didn’t need and drinking too much at parties.

    I often became disappointed with friends, because I relied too heavily on their judgments and opinions to feel okay in the world. I put huge expectations on others to give me the love and acceptance I didn’t have for myself. My self-worth and confidence depended solely on what other people felt and said.

    I put too much pressure on myself to reach a perfection that didn’t exist. I often felt anxious, had panic attacks, or just felt a sort of paralysis when I tried to do things that I really wanted to do, and wanted to do well, because I feared I couldn’t get it right. In fact, I felt like this whenever the real me would try to sneak through and show up.

    But not taking action and always checking and worrying whether I had offended anyone or said or done the wrong thing just left me feeling sad. Somewhere deep inside of me I knew I could do something worthwhile, if only I could break this cycle.

    It took a long time, but eventually I realized that I couldn’t find what I needed from anyone or anything else until I found it within myself first.

    I realized that only I could fill the void and emptiness inside. Being a people pleaser in order to be liked just made me feel resentful. I had to stop blaming other people for things that happened and the way I felt, which, I admit, was not easy to do.

    Slowly, over time, I faced the fact that I am responsible for my own decisions—no one else can make me do anything I don’t want to do—and I don’t have to put so much weight on other people’s opinions or believe my own criticisms, judgments, and negative thoughts.

    I realized that thoughts are not facts but simply words we use to try to make sense of the world. And our choice of words can determine how we feel about a situation. I could choose my words, my thoughts, and thus my feelings.

    I knew I had to find ways to listen to myself, not everyone else, and deal with my anxiety. After all, at best, others’ opinions are just that—opinions, which are based on their thoughts, perceptions, and judgments rather than facts. Here’s what helped me do just that.

    Learning To Listen To Myself And Tapping Into My Inner Wisdom

    Whenever I felt anxiety about what other people think, instead of resisting it I allowed it to be present. I used my breath to ride the wave of emotion, by breathing deeply and slowly into my belly. I welcomed the emotion by really feeling it, noticing where it was in my body, and being curious.

    At the same time I started to become aware of any thoughts and judgments that came up. As I listened I brought my attention back to my breathing, so as to not indulge and engage with various thoughts. This prevented me from getting lost in specific thoughts and feelings.

    I found that, with practice, the feelings would subside and I’d feel calmer and better able to observe and be aware of how unsupportive most of these thoughts were. I practiced various forms of meditation, in particular a kundalini Yoga meditation called Kirtan Kriya – Sa Ta Na Ma Mirabai Ceiba. I found doing this meditation everyday for at least forty days very helpful.

    This meditation helped me feel balanced and neutral, neither very happy nor sad, nor any other emotion.

    From this neutral position I could observe and be a witness to what I was automatically thinking, formerly without conscious awareness. I quickly realized how crazy some of my thoughts were, and in the realizing I could let go of their hold on me.

    Being able to observe and be the witness to what was going on inside my mind, not engaging with unsupportive thoughts, and allowing the feelings to come and go, enabled me to feel calm and centered and to see things from different angles.

    This practice also started to give me the time and space to decide how I wanted to respond, rather than react instantly without awareness.

    Over time I learned a lot about myself. Most importantly I learned to like, love, respect, accept, and forgive myself. I was able to stop beating myself up, cease being my harshest judge and critic, and start allowing myself to take action.

    This helped me discover what I loved and didn’t love doing. I allowed myself to make mistakes and concentrate on what really interested me, by allowing myself to do more of what I wanted to do. As I got in touch with who I really am, I found I had more unconditional love and tolerance for others.

    I felt happier, clearer, more emotionally and mentally resilient, and more connected to myself and others. And I was less thrown by life’s challenges. I was able to trust myself and my intuition, which made making decisions easier. I can handle my family now, no matter how they choose to show up.

    Most of the time I am able to respond in the way I choose to, authentically, assertively, and with compassion, my self-respect and self-worth in tact. I am me, and that feels freeing.

    If you also give too much weight to other people’s opinions, worry about getting their approval, and beat yourself up in your head, perhaps meditation can help you too. Learning to sit with your feelings and observe your thoughts, instead of believing and acting on everything that pops through your head, is the key to making peace with yourself. And making peace with yourself it the key to living the life you want to live, regardless of what other people think.

  • This Weekend I Fell Apart, and That’s Okay

    This Weekend I Fell Apart, and That’s Okay

    “Look for something positive each day, even if some days you have to look a little harder.” ~Unknown

    This weekend I hurt more than I have in a very long time.

    It all started on Friday, when my boyfriend and I headed out to spend the weekend with friends—two couples, both with babies in tow.

    I’ve been trying, unsuccessfully, to get pregnant since the start of the year, yet I didn’t anticipate that it would be emotionally taxing for me to be around two little families. I was just excited to see our friends, who live in the Bay Area, hours away from our home near LA.

    A little backstory: I’m less than three weeks away from my thirty-ninth birthday, which means I’m now in the category of “high-risk pregnancy,” if I’m even able to get pregnant at all.

    My boyfriend and I first discussed having a baby five years ago, but we kept pushing it off because our families live on opposite coasts, and neither of us was able to agree to live on the other’s coast full-time for the long term.

    We finally decided, at the beginning of this year, that I would be the one to visit my family—as often as I feel I need to, with our kid(s), for the foreseeable future—and we’d commit to staying in LA, which makes sense since we’re working toward a career in film.

    But biology doesn’t just fall in line because you finally get over your fears and decide to make a compromise. We’re both open to the idea of adoption, but there are other personal issues—that my fiercely private boyfriend would not want disclosed—that have complicated matters.

    So there I was on Friday with our friends and their adorable babies—one actually a toddler, since he recently turned two.

    We toasted our get-together around 5:00 with our first glass of wine, and the wine continued flowing throughout dinner. After, we all moved to the deck to partake in an at-home wine tasting.

    The ladies and I discussed my road to pregnancy, and though I was discouraged, for the most part I was fine—until I wasn’t.

    Having lost track of the amount of wine I was drinking, I eventually hit that emotional place I remember from my younger years, when alcohol eventually led to histrionics and tears. It is literally a depressant, after all, and generally not great to imbibe when you’re already feeling fragile.

    I don’t remember all the details of that night, but I know I cried about my fears about not being able to have a family (which, as I mentioned, is an issue complicated by many factors).

    I woke up at 4:00 in the morning and picked a fight with my boyfriend about our relationship. Then I woke at 8:00 with two things: a hangover and a shame-over. I was absolutely mortified.

    I’d gotten drunk, turned a fun night with friends into something heavy and emotional, and had caused my boyfriend a lot of pain and embarrassment. It gave me a little comfort to realize everyone had drunk too much. But I still felt deeply ashamed of having lost control.

    Ironically, I received an email that morning that I’d been waiting on for almost a month. My film mentor had just read the second draft of my first feature screenplay, and she said she was blown away by the massive improvement from the first draft.

    I had never in my life simultaneously felt immense pride and deep shame, but I did right then.

    Fortunately, the friend I cried to was extremely kind and empathetic. And no one judged me or put me down, as good friends never do.

    But that day was pretty rough for me, physically and emotionally. And the next day, it got worse.

    That night I noticed that a few people had commented on a meme I’d shared on Friday, using clipart with a hyper-sexualized female silhouette. They mentioned that it was demeaning to women to use what essentially appeared to be Barbie to represent the female form. One person called it “offensive.”

    Though there were only a few critical comments, juxtaposed against 12,000 shares, I immediately realized I agreed with them. As someone who once struggled with an eating disorder, I’d like to represent women as more than a busty, high-ponytailed caricature.

    This didn’t fully or accurately represent my values or the message I’d like to convey. And I didn’t like the idea of young girls seeing it and concluding, as I may have as an adolescent, that this was what a woman is supposed to look like, even if some women actually look like this. So I decided to take it down.

    With a mind still foggy I decided to write something on Facebook, as I wanted the community to know I felt I’d made an error in judgment. I didn’t want to just delete it. I want to make it clear I don’t agree with a society that puts pressure on women to be femme bots and suggests that our sexuality is our most valuable contribution.

    I mentioned in my post that some people had pointed out that the image was offensive, and I agreed that it was triggering—and the backlash was swift and harsh.

    In retrospect, I don’t think I accurately communicated why I decided to remove this image, since I didn’t address the cultural issue of how women are portrayed in the media and the fact that I’d like to be part of the solution, not the problem. But I’m not sure it would have mattered if I did, since I’d used the word “offensive.”

    I forgot that people often get offended by other people getting offended.

    Over the next day, hundreds of comments came in, many attacking me on a personal level.

    People called me spineless for catering to “snowflakes.” People said they lost respect for me and questioned my aptitude for even doing the work I do, since I clearly have no sense of conviction or belief in my own decisions. Even more alarming, many people mocked the idea of being “triggered,” and essentially belittled anyone with emotional or mental health issues.

    I felt misunderstood, judged, and condescended.

    I hid or deleted many of the worst comments and resisted the urge to defend myself, deciding instead to leave one clarifying comment a couple hours in. But I’m not going to lie; this affected me deeply.

    While on the one hand, I reminded myself that my power was in my response, and publicly, I only responded in one calm, clear comment, I also obsessively monitored the feed.

    By this time my boyfriend and I were at his parents’ house in Nevada, where we planned to stay for a few days, and I wasn’t even close to present. I didn’t want to delete this new post, since I believed I’d done the right thing, but it pained me to see so much vitriol in a space that I hold sacred.

    Then came another blow: I’d noticed a while back that since the start of the year, someone had been sharing every single challenge from my book Tiny Buddha’s 365 Tiny Love Challenges on Facebook. Though this person tagged my page, none of the posts included the book’s title or a link—and some people actually assumed she was writing these posts or getting them from my Facebook page.

    I’d emailed my publisher a few weeks back to ask their thoughts on this, and they told me they could send an email asking her to stop. At the time, this seemed warranted.

    Her Facebook friends didn’t see it that way. After she posted the letter from my publisher’s legal department, tagging my page, once again, the comments turned nasty.

    F— you, Tiny Buddha.

    You suck, Tiny Buddha.

    More like “Greedy Buddha.”

    Unbelievable! She should thank you for the free marketing!

    For a while, I felt completely numb. And I knew I was doing the “wrong” things by obsessively monitoring my phone and letting these comments get to me.

    I knew it wasn’t serving me to dwell in my self-righteousness and how wrong I believed it was for this woman, who enjoyed my work enough to share it, to like comments that attacked me on a personal level. But I did it anyways.

    I was angry with the people who were angry. I was triggered by the people who were triggered.

    And then something occurred to me: This whole weekend was an opportunity. It was a chance to practice some of the lessons that are much easier to practice when everything is going well.

    This weekend was a chance to remember that:

    I need compassion most when I think I deserve it the least.

    Initially, I beat myself up over several things this weekend: drinking to excess, exploding emotionally, hurting my boyfriend, choosing clipart that I wished I hadn’t chosen, letting my publisher speak for me instead of reaching out to the woman personally, and obsessing over the various challenges I was facing instead of being present.

    I told myself I shouldn’t have made any of those mistakes. I should have been beyond this. I was a fraud.

    Then I realized something: I was being as mean to myself as the people online. And not a single blow of self-flagellation was helping me move on. In fact, each self-judgmental thought cemented me further into the hole. Because telling myself I was sucking at life made it awfully hard to find the strength to do better.

    Every time I criticized myself, I weakened myself, and a weakened person is far less equipped to reframe difficult circumstances and respond wisely.

    The only way out was to cut myself some slack. I needed to stop fighting with myself and let go, as if melting into a hug from someone who had finally forgiven me. I needed my own love and compassion.

    So I drank too much and cried. I was hurting. It’s been a long journey toward starting a family, and it’s been hard. It’s okay to hurt.

    So I made mistakes in my work—who hasn’t? I owned them and publicly admitted them. What matters isn’t the fact that I messed up but that I acknowledged it and committed to doing better.

    I don’t have to be perfect. Sometimes I will make mistakes, some public, and sometimes I’ll make many that compound. The only way to stop the cycle is to stop obsessing about having done things wrong. The only way to move into the future is to fully accept the past. Once I did this, I felt freer and better able to be present.

    The approval that matters most is my own.

    It bothered me that people believed I removed the image because I needed approval from the “complainers,” as opposed to having made a decision based on my own beliefs and values.

    But ironically, once the flood of negative comments came in, I did start feeling a need for approval. I wanted people to understand and honor my positive intentions.

    It took me a day, but I was finally able to accept that some people were simply committed to judging me, and this wasn’t something to change; it was something to accept.

    It didn’t matter if some people derided me or questioned me if I felt in my heart I’d done the right thing.

    I eventually deleted the second post because I wanted to put an end to the negativity. There’s far too much of that on Facebook already. But I’m proud I waited and resisted the urge to remove all criticism immediately. For a recovering approval addict, allowing a public character assassination requires immense strength. And I give myself a lot of credit for that.

    It’s rarely personal.

    Intellectually, I knew this when people were insulting me in both places on Facebook.

    I knew that the people who were angry with me for catering to “snowflakes” were really projecting their feelings about what they perceive to be an oversensitive culture. It wasn’t just about this one image. It was about every time someone’s ever said they were offended and their complex feelings about what that means to them.

    I also knew that the people defending the woman who’d been sharing my book online were acting from a place of allegiance to their friend. They were more pro-her than anti-me. Many didn’t even have all the information—they didn’t realize she’d been sharing from a book. So really, I couldn’t take that personally either.

    This wasn’t immediately comforting to me because the attacks were so public, but when I was able to fully absorb this, it did give me some peace.

    Not everyone will see my side, and that’s okay.

    I believe one of our deepest desires is to feel understood—to know that other people get where we’re coming from and that they may even have done the same thing if they were in our shoes.

    I didn’t feel that way when people judged me personally based on the letter from my publisher’s legal department.

    I left a few comments on that post, trying my best to respond from a place of calm, but I know there are some people who will forever think I am greedy and soulless because I didn’t want my book’s content republished online.

    I’ve decided that this is okay. Not everyone has to get me, understand me, support me, be considerate of me, or treat me kindly—so long as I do those things for myself.

    Pain can be useful if you share it to help someone else.

    I decided to share this post for two reasons:

    First, I thought it would be cathartic for me. I felt ashamed for a lot of this weekend, and I wanted to be able to reframe this experience in a way that felt empowering. As I said when I first launched this site, when we recycle our pain into something useful for others, we’re able to turn shame into pride.

    And that brings me to the second reason: I thought it might be helpful for someone else to realize that even someone who runs a site like Tiny Buddha can fall into so many self-destructive traps.

    If you’ve ever drank too much and fallen apart emotionally, know that you’re not alone.

    If you’ve ever obsessed over comments online and allowed something as trivial as a Facebook feud to get the better of you, know that you’re not alone.

    If you’ve ever failed to apply what you know and regressed to the least evolved version of yourself, know that you’re not alone.

    And know that all of these things are okay. They don’t mean anything about you as a person. They don’t define you. And they certainly don’t have to dictate the future.

    This is what I needed to hear this weekend when I was despondent and numb, so today it’s my gift to you. I hope someone benefits from something in my experience, but I suppose no matter what, someone has—me.

  • 5 Practices That Helped Me Stop Being a People-Pleaser

    5 Practices That Helped Me Stop Being a People-Pleaser

    “If you spend your life pleasing others, you spend your life.” ~Cheryl Richardson

    Looking back on my life, I came to realize that I spent quite a high amount of my precious time trying. Trying to be perfect. Trying to be appreciated and liked by everyone else around me. Trying to fit in with different groups of people so that I could feel accepted and approved of.

    I can recall many situations in my life when I did things I didn’t really want to do to comfort or please others. I was a master of people-pleasing and, to be honest, it wasn’t always because I wanted to make everyone happy.

    The truth is that I wanted people to like me. I expected them to give me the things I wasn’t giving myself: love, care, and attention.

    People-pleasing is an unhealthy behavior, a clear sign of low self-esteem. It is disempowering, inauthentic, and extremely time- and energy-consuming.

    Here are five simple practices that helped me stop being a people-pleaser.

    1. Allow myself to be me.

    I can recall I once told a guy I was dating that I wanted to join him for a football match when, in fact, I didn’t. I knew he loved football, so I thought he would see me as a right partner and like me more. Big mistake.

    If you’re also doing things you don’t want to do, hoping those things will strengthen your relationships, be careful with that. Be honest about what you like or dislike. Be real. Pretending and faking who you are and what you want will only work against you.

    Being myself got me married. The day I had the first dinner with my husband (as friends at that time), I had no expectations of getting involved in a romantic relationship. I didn’t care if he liked me, I didn’t try to please him in any way because, to me, he was just a friend, not “a marriage prospect.” No lies, no mask, no hidden agenda.

    He got to meet the honest, real me, and this was whom he eventually fell in love with. Authenticity is magnetic! Being genuine is a matter of choice, so I stopped explaining myself for what I want and for who I am.

    If you also feel like wearing a mask when among people, I want you to know it is okay to be you. Your perfect imperfections make you special and unique.

    Be your own kind of beauty. Stay true to your feelings, opinions, thoughts, and emotions. Live your own life, with no apologies and no regrets.

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

    2. Detach from other people’s opinion of me.

    Did you know that the fear of public speaking comes first among all kinds of fears? Even the fear of death comes second! Most people don’t feel brave enough to show up in their vulnerability in front of others because they’re focusing more on what people might think about them than on the message they want to convey. I was there in the past, and whenever I had to hold a speech at work, it felt like torture.

    Seeking validation from others turns us into their prisoners. In reality, we can’t control what other people feel or think, but we are in charge of our own actions, feelings, and thoughts.

    When I know that what other people think of me does not define me, I set myself free from any judgment. What they see in me is their opinion. Some might perceive me as smart, funny, and talented. Others might think I’m an average public speaker or even a lousy one. To some, I might look pretty. To others, I might not. It’s all about their standards of beauty or intelligence, and it has nothing to do with me.

    I do the best I know and the best I can every day. I love and approve of myself as I am, and other people’s opinion or validation of me is neither required nor needed.

    If this rings a bell with you, please know you cannot please everyone, no matter how much you might try. Other people’s opinions of you are nothing but perception, filtered through their own lenses, expectations, or system of belief. Know you are worthy and beautiful, not because others think so, but because you decide to believe it.

    “When I seek your approval, I don’t approve of the me that’s seeking the approval.” ~ Byron Katie 

    3. Set healthy boundaries with the outer world.

    One of the most challenging things I had to learn was how to say no to things I didn’t really want to do, without feeling selfish, guilty, or overly worried that I might hurt or upset someone else. I struggled with this in my personal relationships (like when I saw a movie in town on a Sunday because a good friend had asked, even though my body only wanted to sleep and recharge), but not only in this area of my life.

    This was a challenge at work, as well, whether I was saying yes to tasks that were not part of my job profile or volunteering to take on new projects when I already had a lot on my plate. But one day, I decided to speak up for myself and see what happened. Surprisingly, everything was just fine when I started telling people what I needed.

    To me, setting healthy boundaries was a learned practice, and here’s where I am today:

    Saying no doesn’t mean I dislike or reject the other person. I say yes to the person and no to the task. In reality, I know I can’t disappoint anyone. People disappoint themselves with the expectations they set for whom they want me to be and what they expect me to do. It’s always their story. If they truly love me, they’ll understand.

    We teach people how to treat us by deciding what we will and won’t accept. I ceased letting anyone take advantage of me. I am not a doormat. It is not my responsibility to entertain other people and make them happy. Whenever I offer people time, I give them a piece of my life.

    Today, I spend my precious time with people who bring the best in me, who support me and accept me just the way I am. Relationships in which we need to pretend are toxic. If I don’t feel at ease with people, I don’t change myself; I change the people.

    Setting boundaries in a relationship might look selfish to the outer world. In reality, it is a form of self-respect, self-love, and self-care.

    “No one can make you feel inferior without your consent.” ~ Eleanor Roosevelt

    4. Assertive communication.

    Often cases, I found it extremely difficult to say no only because I didn’t know how to express myself with clarity and confidence, fearing I could sound aggressive or impolite. I learned to say no with grace, without offending anyone.

    Here are some simple formulas that always work well for me:

    • It doesn’t work for me right now.
    • I’m not able to make it this Sunday/this week/month/year.
    • I’ve got too much on my plate right now.
    • Thank you for thinking of me, I’m sorry I can’t at this time.
    • It’s too bad I’m busy, but please let me know how it turns out.
    • Perhaps another time, let me know what next week looks like for you.
    • No thank you, but it sounds lovely.

    “When you say Yes to others, make sure you are not saying No to yourself.” ~ Paulo Coelho

    5. Become my own best friend. 

    For my happiness, I’m in charge. I stopped expecting others to make me happy and to fulfill my needs and desires.

    I’ve made myself a priority in my own life. I engage in activities that bring me joy. I do more things for my heart and soul. This way, I create happiness from the inside out instead of chasing it through other people.

    It is not my husband’s responsibility to make me feel valued, cherished, loved, whole, and complete; it’s mine.

    Loving ourselves as a whole—mind, body, and soul—is not selfish; it is necessary. Being loved is a human need. However, being needy is something different. I came to understand that people who are taking good care of themselves are less dependent on the approval of others.

    I pay attention to my self-talk. I eliminated disempowering words or thoughts from my repertoire: “I am stupid,” “I am too fat,” “I’m a failure,” “I’m not good enough.”

    I treat myself with dignity and respect. I talk to myself kindly. I don’t call myself names and I acknowledge myself for my achievements, for my willingness to learn and grow. This way, my cup of self-love is always full, and external praise comes as a bonus.

    I practice the art of embracing praise. I take compliments gracefully instead of putting myself down, as if I’m unworthy of such a celebration. I enjoy when people compliment me but I am not dependent on them to feel good about myself.

    “It’s not your job to like me; it’s mine.” ~ Byron Katie

    Once I decided to embrace myself with love and compassion, being alone didn’t feel scary or hard, and I started to enjoy my own company.

    Just think from this perspective: Out of everyone you know in the world, the only person that is always present in your life, non-negotiable, day and night, is you. So if you don’t like being all by yourself, at least from time to time, you might need to work on the most important relationship you’ll ever get in life: the one with yourself.

    To some people, the need to be alone could also be a personality issue, as introverted persons want to charge their batteries from the inside out and don’t always need to be surrounded by people. Meanwhile, I have met very extroverted people who suddenly didn’t need to spend so much of their time with others and started focusing more on themselves.

    Being liked and included and feeling a sense of belonging to a community are basic human needs. As defined by Descartes, humans are “social animals.” However, many people use others as a diverting tool that helps them run from themselves.

    I’ve been there as well in the past—spending time with others to feel seen or included, or keeping the TV switched on all day long in my home, even if I wasn’t watching. In reality, I was using that noise to run from my own thoughts and emotions.

    When we have a harmonic relationship with ourselves, we no longer look to other people to fill holes in our self-esteem. We need people but we aren’t emotionally needy. There’s a big difference between the two.

    “You can never feel lonely when you like the person you’re alone with.“ ~Wayne Dyer

  • What My Dog Taught Me About Self-Acceptance

    What My Dog Taught Me About Self-Acceptance

    “Because one accepts oneself, the whole world accepts him or her.” ~Lao Tzu

    We all have recorded messages playing in our heads, from long ago.

    Listen to parents talking to young children. Often the message is less than approving.

    “Don’t put that in your mouth!”

    “Go wash your face right now.”

    “If you keep acting like that nobody will like you.”

    “Look at Cindy, how well she’s doing. If you worked harder you could do as well as her.”

    Those examples are kind compared to what many people will have heard growing up.

    Many of these messages enter our brains before our conscious memories are fully formed. They may be buried somewhere in our minds, but they are real.

    Of course, parents have to train young children. That’s part of their job. But not all parents balance their criticism with approval.

    So, we often grow up anxious for approval, uncertain of our own worth, always feeling that there’s something fundamentally wrong with us, perhaps feeling more or less unlovable.

    This self-critical stance interferes with the warm, loving, mutually accepting, and deeply satisfying relationships we crave all through life.

    Are relationships really that important? The Harvard Study of Adult Development followed people for as long as seventy years. Some thrived, some sank.

    What was the common factor among those who flourished for decades, in every way? Warm, supportive relationships.

    I sucked at relationships as a child. I don’t mean romantic relationships, just friendships. I was the awkward kid who got left out of playground games.

    Yet, there was a part of my life that was quite different. It was full of love and joy.

    Let me tell you about Jolly.

    Jolly was about two feet tall, hairy, with patches of brown, black, and white. For me, it was love at first sight. He was bouncing around frantically, his tail wagging so furiously that it might have fallen off.

    I pestered my parents until they agreed to get him for me.

    In no time at all, I was experiencing why dogs are called our best friends. Jolly was completely in love with me, judging by his behavior.

    If the day had been particularly frustrating for me, Jolly didn’t care. He’d jump on me as soon as I came in the door, tail wagging at dangerous speeds, squealing with delight, trying to lick my face, running up and down the room before repeating the performance, barking with joy, inviting me to play with him.

    Sometimes a teacher would tell me off in school.

    Jolly didn’t care. To him, I was still the most wonderful person in the world. He would still burst with joy when I got home, bury me in licks, desperate for me to play with him.

    Sometimes I would return feeling really low because other kids had been particularly nasty to me.

    Jolly would still jump on me when I opened the door. He would still wag that tail dangerously fast. If he could talk, I believe he would be spewing out love poetry to rival Shakespeare.

    I didn’t even have to go out of the house for him to find me fascinating and totally lovable. It was enough if I went to the next room and came back. He would still be almost bursting out of his skin with joy at seeing me again.

    It was as if he could see something in me that I could not see for myself.

    However, it took me decades to digest and fully accept the lesson that Jolly was teaching me.

    Medical school taught me the neurological pathways and brain areas that are active during criticism, but I didn’t fully embrace Jolly’s message until some decades later.

    For many parents, and for the world, success in life is something that happens in the future of a child. The child grinds out one day after another, chasing that distant glimmer of success.

    The child becomes a young adult, and still they’re chasing that distant success. Work hours are long, relationships suffer, tempers are short, nerves are frayed, emotions run high. Still, success remains like a finishing line that’s continually moving away.

    The young adult grows toward middle age, perhaps with children by now, and still they’re chasing success. For themselves and now for their children too.

    No matter how much they’ve accumulated, there’s always the possibility of accumulating more. Keeping up with the Joneses is an endless game. At the root of it all is the little child’s longing for approval.

    “They’ll discover I’m a fraud.”

    “If they really knew me they wouldn’t like me.”

    “If only I could get that next promotion or close that big sale, people would start respecting me more.”

    “If only I did better, I would become truly lovable.”

    Scratch under the surface, and there might well be a self-critical little child longing for acceptance.

    We experience the stresses and strains of life as burdens that drag us down.

    We get annoyed at ourselves for not doing better.

    We beat ourselves up for experiencing difficult or unpleasant emotions.

    We’re hooked on self-help books and programs because we’re anxious about our flaws.

    We long to be rid of our flaws and imperfections, because we believe that will make us more lovable.

    What would Jolly say?

    “I don’t care. Yes, you need to lose thirty pounds, but right now I love you and want you to know that you are completely worthy of my love.”

    “Yes, you could do with twice as much money and a much bigger house, but right now you are already totally lovable.”

    “Yes, you could do with fewer of those low moods, less anxiety and less anger, but right now you are already worthy of honor and respect.”

    “Yes, you’ve had some messy relationships and screwed up in many ways but right now you are totally worthy of love.”

    The more I learned to accept myself with all my flaws and imperfections, the more relaxed I became about difficult emotions and setbacks in life.

    The more accepting I became of my own imperfections, the more accepting and loving I became toward others.

    The more accepting and loving I became toward others, the more they responded with warmth.

    The child that was left out on the playground is now a much more self-accepting person despite his flaws, often a source of love, comfort, laughter, and joy to others. That is fertile soil for warm, supportive relationships.

    Supportive relationships, as research has found, are the key to wellbeing now and for decades to come. They help keep your body and brain working well for longer.

    At our core, we’re a mess and we’re always falling short of our aspirations. That’s part of being human. It’s okay.

    Jolly would want you to know that you are totally lovable, regardless.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

    Some of the lessons I learned during the journey were…

    Face your fears.

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

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

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

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

    Calm your inner critic.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

    Cast away the fear of being different.

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

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

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

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

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

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

    Pause before saying yes.

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

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

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

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

    Find your forte.

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

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

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

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

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

    Strengthen your core values.

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

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

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

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

    Celebrate your true self.

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

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

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

    —

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

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

  • Why People-Pleasers Don’t Get the Love and Respect They Desire

    Why People-Pleasers Don’t Get the Love and Respect They Desire

    “Niceness is the psychological armor of the people-pleaser.” ~Harriet B. Braiker

    I used to think that being kind, gentle, and agreeable was guaranteed to win me love and acceptance from others. I’d tiptoe around destructive people’s behaviors, no matter how uncomfortable I felt about it, believing to my core that if only I could be nice enough to them, they would one day lead a better life.

    I lived my life constantly avoiding anything that might make me look like a bad, imperfect, antagonistic, or unlikeable person. Because as every people-pleaser knows, being disliked or disapproved of feels worse than ignoring your own feelings—at least at first.

    Some people were easy to please; a kind gesture or smile was all it would take. Getting their approval so effortlessly made me happier than a kid at Disney World. But with other people, it seemed the more I tried to please them, the more likely they were to treat me like an old dish rag; and the more this happened, the less I liked myself.

    Eventually, my efforts to please others left me feeling disrespected, violated, and disconnected—from life, from other people, and from myself.

    For many years, I silently endured the ongoing, relentless invalidation of who I was based on how others treated me. When someone close to me was feeling unsatisfied, negative, or in search of someone to blame, there I was, ready to take it.

    But no matter how unhappy I was, I still wanted to make them feel better. I wanted to see them happy, even at my own expense.

    At the core of these one-sided relationships I maintained with some of the perpetually dissatisfied people in my life was an enduring belief that if only I could solve their problems and make them happy, I’d finally receive the love and acceptance I desired all my life.

    I never stopped to think, “But what about me? What will become of me if I keep trying to satisfy people with an unquenchable thirst?” I couldn’t see that no matter what I did, it would never be enough. In fact, it wasn’t about me at all. I didn’t realize that no matter how good I am at solving problems, or how perfectly I can handle things, if someone wants to find fault with me, they will.

    Instead of seeing other people’s dissatisfaction as an issue for them to resolve on their own, I internalized it and interpreted it to mean I wasn’t good enough.

    But one day, I finally started asking myself some important questions: “What will become of me and my self-worth if I keep basing it on unhappy people’s perceptions? Who will love and respect me if I’m not even taking a stand for myself?”

    My conception of who I needed to be in order to gain love and acceptance was slapping me in the face over and over again like a flat tire driving on uneven pavement. But still, I wondered why my formula wasn’t working. I truly believed that living selflessly was a surefire way to get love, appreciation, respect, and lots of hugs in return.

    It took me a while to realize that living this way was actually having the opposite effect. My constant selfless giving and kindness didn’t automatically earn me a pass on the eternal acceptance subway. It actually seemed to be an invitation for people to take advantage of my generosity, allowing them to feel less anxious about their own lives.

    I set myself up to be other people’s emotional dumpster, personal life fixer, and convenient source of blame for their misfortunes.

    What I came to learn the hard way is that pleasing others isn’t the way to win their love and respect. I finally realized that if I kept taking on other people’s anxiety as my own, they would never change. And why would they, after all? They got lots of relief from me stepping in and resolving things. But at what cost?

    All this pleasing had left me feeling inadequate and stressed out as I watched the recipients of my pleasing play out the same problems and drama, over and over again.

    Love At All Costs

    One night I had a dream that I was standing in a field with nothing but the clothes on my back. I felt weak and tired, like I needed someone to come lift me up and ask me how I was doing.

    Slowly, my family and friends started to join me in the field. But they weren’t there to rescue me; they were there to bring me their troubles.

    One by one, they started pulling me in different directions. They wanted me to solve their lives for them, even though I was alone, tired, defeated, and left with nothing.

    The dream was showing me the truth about how I was living. When my life and health started to collapse around me like a burning building, I had to take a hard look at my perspective and decisions. I started to question my beliefs about what it meant to be a truly good person, and what it took to receive the love and respect I so desired.

    That dream helped me understand that my people-pleasing behaviors weren’t getting me what I desired; they were getting me the very experiences I spent my life trying to avoid.

    Back then, it would have been easier for me to blame others for their ungratefulness and neediness; but deep down, I knew that blaming would have been another way to avoid taking a look at myself.

    I was sick of exhausting myself trying to help and change other people, only to find that it didn’t work. I knew I had to change myself and, as cheesy as it may sound, give myself the love and respect I so desired. Because the truth is, no one can give you what you should be giving yourself from within—especially not those people who need the pleasing you so easily offer.

    After much reflection, I came to see that my pleasing behaviors were a way for me to get the validation from others that I wasn’t giving myself. Of course my efforts backfired, because I alone was responsible for my happiness; other people’s happiness wasn’t my responsibility, and just because I was overly nice to someone didn’t mean they had to treat me the same way.

    I was trying to please other people so I could feel worthy of love. In reality, my kindness wasn’t coming from a place of vulnerability, honesty, or acceptance; it was rooted in anxiety and fear.

    In my attempts to make everyone else happy, I lost control of my own identity, and they lost their ability to solve their own problems. By changing myself to become who everyone wanted me to be, I made myself less desirable and implicitly invited people to take me for granted.

    Pleasing Yourself

    Do you find yourself people-pleasing and wonder how you can get the love and respect you desire? Well, the answer is pretty simple, but the actions it takes aren’t quite as simple. The first step involves changing your perceptions. Once that’s done, changing your behaviors will follow naturally. Here are some things to remember:

    1. You aren’t treating yourself with love and respect when you regularly do things for others that they’re avoiding doing for themselves.

    2. You aren’t treating yourself with love and respect when people violate your boundaries, and you don’t speak up about it.

    3. You aren’t treating yourself with love and respect when you say yes to something but really want to say no.

    4. You aren’t treating yourself with love and respect when you internalize others’ dissatisfaction and take it on as your own problem.

    5. You aren’t treating yourself with love and respect when you hurt yourself in order to make others happy.

    Over time, I came to understand that my efforts to make other people happy were like deposits made in a piggy bank with a giant hole at the bottom.

    If you’re stuck in a people-pleasing cycle, chances are you’re subconsciously attaching to people who need you to soothe their discomfort, because they can’t do it for themselves. Since they don’t know how to manage their own emotions, they’ll continue to reach out to you whenever they’re in crisis—and, on the occasions when your pleasing behaviors aren’t sufficient for them, they’ll blame you for their discomfort.

    If you want to make changes in your life, it’s time for you to see this pattern clearly and stop basing your sense of worthiness on other people’s approval of you.

    Change your perceptions, beliefs, and behaviors. Make contributions to a bank that pays interest. Receive the love and respect you so desire by celebrating your freedom from the longing to be accepted by others.

    —

    Editor’s note: Ilene has generously offered to give away two free copies of her latest book, When It’s Never About You: The People-Pleaser’s Guide to Reclaiming Your Health, Happiness and Personal Freedom. To enter to win one of two free copies, leave a comment below. You don’t have to write anything specific—”Count me in” is sufficient! You can enter until midnight PST on Sunday, November 5th.

    UPDATE: The winners for this giveaway have already been chosen. They are Emma Andmark Shishkin and Mari Toni.

  • Overcoming Defensive Thinking: If You Try to Avoid Criticism, Read On

    Overcoming Defensive Thinking: If You Try to Avoid Criticism, Read On

    “We are used to thinking of thinking as a good thing, as that which makes us human. It can be quite a revelation to discover that so much of our thinking appears to be boring, repetitive, and pointless while keeping us isolated and cut off from the feelings of connection that we most value.” ~Mark Epstein

    I grew up with parents who seemed to love me until I was eight but then turned on me inexplicably.

    Suddenly, my father would hit me, two knuckles on top of my head, yelling, “Why don’t you listen?”

    My parents gave me grudging credit for my large vocabulary, remarkable memory, and precocious reading, so I invested everything in my mind, but it didn’t make much of a difference. I had no real approval, escape, or safety. As a result, I became trapped in my head, always looking for ways to gain their validation and protect myself from the pain of their disapproval.

    I later learned that I was engaging in “defensive thinking”—attaching to favorable situations and trying to avoid anything that might bring criticism.

    “But Dad, what about—“, I’d gulp, hoping he wouldn’t yell or hit me. I’d inevitably fail to get a favorable response, and my inner critic would yell at me, too, “You idiot! Why did you say that?”

    So, before the next time, I’d tell the critic, “This is what I’m going to say,” and he’d respond, “You better hope you don’t make a mistake, like last time, you dope! You’re supposed to be so smart, but you’re stupid!”

    My father’s alcoholism, with its predictable unpredictability, made my ego’s maneuvering useless. No matter how feverishly my mind worked to protect me, the abuse continued.

    In college, for the first time in years, I experienced a healthy emotional life, as my wonderful friends accepted me for who I was, not who I tried to be.

    But when I came home after graduating in July 1977, with time between college and graduate school, I regressed from age twenty-two to age eight.

    I anticipated my father’s rages and insults and struggled to hold on for three months.

    I’d talk with wonder and excitement about Nietzsche and Hume, and my father would sneer at me, “The problem with people like that is that they didn’t do enough dishes.”

    I knew this was a thinly veiled criticism of me, since I’d invested so much in my own mind.

    Worst of all, I knew the sneer compensated for the fact that I was now taller and bigger than he was. He couldn’t reach the top of my head to hit me anymore.

    But words hurt, and those did. The inevitable conclusion: Maybe I was worthless.

    I’d wondered that at age eight. In the same house, I wondered it again at age twenty-two.

    My mind would literally race to stay safe, losing the present, blaming myself for the past, and anticipating the future, with dread, in a futile attempt to escape abuse.

    One night, after returning from a trip I’d taken without my father’s approval, my mind simply stopped its chatter. Perhaps it happened because I realized how little power I had to change my situation. It was the first time I could ever remember feeling safe, despite my environment.

    I was totally absorbed in the present moment.

    At first I thought it was depression. I only realized later it was something else.

    Authenticity.

    Although my mind eventually resumed its chatter, I realized that, even in the most insecure of places, I could feel the emptiness of peace.

    Protection

    We start engaging in defensive thinking because our inner critic works like a prison guard to provide a minimum of safety against some exterior threat.

    If you couldn’t explain the intimate betrayal of your parents, you had to find an explanation for it in your own behavior. The mental alternative, the absolute randomness of the event, was too awful to contemplate.

    Let’s say I was working on my father’s most obsessive pastime, his yearlong quest to ready enough wood to heat the house all winter. I’d cut the wood badly; insecure, I’d hesitate and I’d fumble. I wouldn’t know how to operate tools (I’d become frightened of them, thinking them extensions of his explosive anger).

    For years, my father grabbed tools out of my hands in frustration, insisting on doing tasks himself; so my hesitation, and his impatience, simply got worse. He thought I was lazy. He’d grown up in a tough environment but was unaware that he’d made my environment just as bad.

    Maybe if I criticized myself first, I thought, I’d head off his criticism. The tragic part of this type of behavior is that it creates a lifelong pattern of self-abuse. If you do that often enough, over a long enough period of time, even after the original critic’s death, your inner critic will be only too happy to continue.

    I tried desperately to escape his negativity, as one tries unsuccessfully to escape a wave. I didn’t ride it gently or dive below it, but tried to jump above it. I knew that the inevitable end of such futile jumping was to be dashed against the hard ocean floor, powerless.

    Enforced habits die hard when there’s no escape.

    My own internal critic was, if anything, more savage than my father. Since I couldn’t understand why a loving father could change so completely out of the blue, the problem had to be me.

    I lost too many days to “defensive” chatter, particularly during high external stress. I’d spend hours talking to my ego, trying to justify my likes, such as reading and music, and to avoid dislikes, like physical labor and mechanical challenges, since I knew, from experience, these would always produce father-disapproving results.

    How did I overcome this internal situation that threatened to ruin my life daily?

    1. Seek help.

    My healthier mind became possible through therapy.

    Mentally healthy individuals have an inner parent that talks their internal child through difficult times. Sometimes, due to long-term trauma or a one-time event, that stronger part, that inner parent, becomes unavailable.

    I took on a partner who simply “stood in” for the stronger part of me until I could get control of defensive thinking. My therapist became the nourishing external parent until I could connect again with the nourishing parent inside.

    I was always an extremely gifted advisor to other people, yet I couldn’t provide the same service to myself. Now I can.

    2. Look carefully at the defensive mind and its chatter.

    My first therapist suggested a Buddhist approach and vocabulary to our work together.

    Suddenly, I discovered meditation and slowed down my experiences to review both my reactive and automatic thought patterns. I realized that the mind can uncouple itself from the false self of the ego entirely, observe, and step into core, silent authenticity.

    At that time, I discovered a life-saving book, Joan Borysenko’s Minding the Body, Mending the Mind. I would begin to relax as I’d read her descriptions of how the mind functions, what the mind was made for, and what is was not intended for.

    I’d follow her advice to close my eyes, breathe, and simply watch with inner eyes as my mind became empty; and finally, best of all, I’d remember to slip into the pose of the “witness,” the observer behind my “chatter.” In fact, Borysenko brought home to me the fact that the internal “observer” is the greatest servant of the nourishing inner parent.

    The book also characterized the ego as “the Judge” with its negative protectiveness, and so I began to review how I mediated my thoughts, experience, and existence.

    3. Get in touch with attachment and aversion.

    A book I discovered later, Mark Epstein’s Going to Pieces Without Falling Apart reaffirmed and further explored what Borysenko had introduced me to, the dynamic of “attachment” and “aversion”—the two-headed monster of self-induced delusion and pain.

    Our ego wants to “attach” to external praise, while it wants to “avert” criticism.

    It’s unhealthy to be dependent on outside approval in this way, and it’s also not conducive to healthy relationships. Defensive thinking cuts us off from the present and prevents us from dealing with others authentically, since we’re focused on getting a certain reaction from them, not simply engaging with them.

    Also, it’s fruitless to try to avert criticism, since it’s inevitable. And we can’t always be sure someone’s actually criticizing us. As I dug deeper, I discovered that, all too often, I projected my trauma-induced inner critic into the actions or words of people around me.

    I attributed random talk and actions to some larger rejection of me, when the only person consistently rejecting and criticizing me was, in fact, myself.

    “Even-mindedness,” as Borysenko calls it, is the sure way to peace, since it enables us to disinvest from both external praise and blame.

    4. Re-experience the pain behind the inner critic.

    After decades of therapy, extraordinary persistence, hard work, and courage, I finally re-experienced the dislocation of my father’s rejection of me. I sat in a room with someone I trusted watching me in silent sympathy and support, as my body convulsed with racking sobs.

    I could now be eight again so that I could re-experience the trauma, sympathize with myself, reintegrate, and move on.

    In those therapy sessions I learned that my thinking was a defense mechanism. It was a flimsy barrier against the overwhelming pain in my gut, a life-affirming yet almost intolerable pain I could not approach for decades.

    Suddenly, after violent re-immersion in that eight-year old’s world, I developed the inner holding tank for feelings that healthy people have so they don’t bounce from emotional gut pain into defensive mind-trapped thinking.

    But I could never have reached that place of direct and terrible re-experience without slowly peeling away the layers of defensive thinking.

    Allowing myself the direct pain experience without any attempt to rationalize it freed me from the internal critic, the involuntary product of trauma.

    I could accept the awful truth: I didn’t have an explanation for my father’s changed behavior, and it wasn’t my fault.

    My critic was the tragic misuse of a fine mind never meant to substitute for authentic feeling, whether joy or pain.

    —

    When both my sons were born, despite the overpowering stress that my inner critic subjected me to (I thought I’d be a terrible father due to my own father’s behavior), I felt this incredible peace.

    It was like gentle submersion into a quiet, clear pool.

    The water was warm, the solitude womb-like, and the entire experience felt like perfect peace.

    Only emptiness allows such an experience.

    Everyone suffers from self-criticism, but the healthiest people temper and compensate for their inner critic with a nourishing inner parent.

    If you can peel back the layers of your defensive thinking gently and compassionately, then do so.

    If, as was my case, your inner chamber of emotion is so unreachable due to the terrors that lurk there, then bring in a trusted external partner, a therapist, who can be the surrogate you need in order to patiently rediscover the nourishing inner parent who is your birthright.

    Observation and mindfulness can be keys to unlock the doors of practiced defensive thinking.

    Consistently open the channel to that inner nurturing presence, stay present as you experience life, and get behind the critic’s reason for being.

    As a result, you can liberate yourself from a defensive life.

    Live free, and find a safe and healthy way to feel the joy of fertile emptiness.

  • How I Prioritize and Take Care of Myself Without Feeling Selfish

    How I Prioritize and Take Care of Myself Without Feeling Selfish

    “I am worthy of the best things in life, and I now lovingly allow myself to accept it.” ~Louise Hay

    Looking back on my life, I see that for a long time I struggled to take care of my own wants and needs and didn’t make them a priority. I used to find that very uncomfortable, and sometimes even selfish. I was a master of giving, but I faced serious obstacles to receiving.

    By nature, I am a nurturer. I find tremendous joy and fulfillment in giving, so the old me used to offer plenty of time and energy to everyone else (my family, friends, and employers). I was always doing my best to please others and make them happy. I still believe there’s nothing wrong about that, and that my only mistake was treating myself as unimportant.

    Several years ago, while I was working for an international corporation in Shanghai, I was assigned to organize a major team-building event for the organization. I decided to go for a Chinese food cooking class. It all went beautifully, and everyone had much fun. People were cooking, laughing, and taking pictures, while I was supervising and making sure everything went impeccably.

    After the cooking class, it was time for dinner, time to eat that delicious food and enjoy a relaxing evening together. I had spent hours setting the tables, preparing different team games, and making sure this event was going to be a party to remember. And so it was, especially for me.

    I will never forget that day. It was transformational; a wake-up call that shook me to the bones. My colleagues asked where I was going to sit and have dinner, and I couldn’t answer. I had been so focused on making everything perfect for everyone else that I had completely forgotten about myself.

    Everyone had their seats and was ready to enjoy a nice meal, except for me. I was planning to grab some food at the end, if anything was left. I’d entertain everyone and play the master of ceremonies, even if no one had ever asked me to do that.

    I was the only one responsible for that unfortunate decision to please everyone but me.

    My first reaction was to blame myself. How could I have done such a thing? How could I have been so stupid? Deep inside, I felt angry with myself, and upset with my mother, as well.

    Since an early age, I watched her dedicate herself to us, her family, day and night: never tired (that’s what we thought), always available and willing to help. I watched her taking care of the household and working full time, including night shifts.

    I would have wanted her to teach me differently, to tell me about healthy boundaries and self-care. But that was the best she knew, and she did the best she could. Her mother had done the same thing, and so had her grandmother.

    Today, I feel thankful for that precious gift. My mother taught me how to serve, nourish, and nurture from the heart. However, there was one more thing for me to learn as a grown-up woman: that self-care was not selfish, but fair. Like everyone else, I am also a person, worthy of love, care, and attention.

    Today I know I needed that experience, to understand how old, inherited patterns of behavior didn’t serve me well. We can only change what we are aware of and accept to be true about ourselves, and staying in denial is a trap.

    So here’s what worked well for me and helped me take much better care of myself:

    1. Do more things for my heart and soul.

    If I can’t find time for myself in my busy agenda, I make it. We all have twenty-four hours a day, and my wants and needs are important.

    I have started to spend a higher number of hours all by myself. It doesn’t mean I’m not a social person or I don’t love the people around me. That’s how I reconnect with myself and get grounded, reflect, and recharge.

    I take breaks between working hours; I am not a robot. Sometimes, I go out for a nice walk in nature. I watch a good movie or read a good book. I listen to relaxing recordings, with my eyes closed. I sometimes treat myself to a massage. I use the beautiful bed sheets and the nice towels instead of saving them for the guests, because I’m worth it.

    2. Take good care of my body.

    I know my body is the temple of my soul, and the only one I’ve got, so I make sure I give it nutritious foods and plenty of water. I schedule those much-needed doctor appointments and yearly health checks. I take a nap when I need rest; put my phone on silent and disconnect from the outer world for a while. Surprisingly, the world does not collapse.

    3. Set healthy boundaries with the outer world.

    One of the most difficult things I had to learn was how to say no to things I didn’t really want to do, without feeling selfish, guilty, or overly worried that I might hurt or upset someone else.

    I struggled with this in my personal relationships (like when I saw a movie in town on a Sunday because a good friend had asked, even though my body only wanted to sleep and recharge), but not only in this area of my life.

    This was a challenge at work, as well, whether I was saying yes to tasks that were not part of my job profile or volunteering to take on new projects when I already had a lot on my plate.

    But one day, I decided to speak up for myself and see what happened. Surprisingly, everything was just fine when I started telling people what I needed.

    To me, setting healthy boundaries was a learned practice, and here’s where I am today:

    If it sounds like a “should,” I don’t do it. I have learned how to say no to things I don’t really want to do without fearing I might disappoint others.

    Saying no doesn’t mean I dislike or reject the other person. I know I can’t disappoint anyone. People disappoint themselves with the expectations they set for whom they want me to be and what they expect me to do. It’s always about them, and it has zero to do with me. If they truly love me, they would understand.

    It’s not my job to please others, and I don’t feel like I owe anyone any explanations or apologies for the way I am spending my precious time, and with whom. We always choose how much we give.

    Setting boundaries in a relationship might look selfish to the outer world. In reality, it is a form of self-respect, self-love, and self-care.

    4. Stop fighting for perfection.

    Years ago, I almost got burnt out at work. I was working ten hours a day as a rule, plus weekends. I couldn’t sleep well, and I generally spent my weekend time recovering from stress through overeating.

    One day, I collapsed. I often saw my colleagues leaving the office after the normal working hours, while I was doing overtime on a regular basis. I blamed myself for being less intelligent than my peers, thinking that my brain couldn’t handle my assignments at the same speed. In other words, I thought I was stupid.

    I had a chat with my manager about my workload, and that was transformational. I told him it felt too hard to handle. I will never forget that manager’s words:

    “Sara, I do appreciate your hard work, and I’m very pleased to have you on my team. However, I want you to know that I only expect you to run the daily business. I have never asked you for perfection, but for good enough.”

    That was mind blowing. For the first time ever, I came to understand that “good enough” had never been part of my repertoire. I couldn’t define what that was. I wanted things to do everything perfectly so no one could hurt me or blame anything on my performance. I was an overachiever, identifying my human worth through my professional results and achievements.

    I was raising the bar so high that my body couldn’t cope with the expectations I had set for myself any longer. Nobody else was responsible for my situation, but me.

    So here’s what I’ve learned from that experience: The need for perfection is energy consuming, and it can be exhausting for both body and soul. If this sounds familiar to you, please know that you will never get rid of perfectionism till you learn how to be okay with good enough.

    Today I do the best I know and be the best I can be in every situation, and I aim for progress instead of perfection. I have learned to embrace my mistakes as much-needed opportunities for growth. I know am not a Superwoman, and that we all have good and bad days.

    5. Let go of the “do it all” mentality.

    In a society that values human worth through how well we do things in life (based on individual results, goals, and achievements), most of us have forgotten just to be. Everyone is in a hurry, doing something or running somewhere. Many of us have even started to feel guilty for doing nothing.

    But here’s what I believe: Doing nothing doesn’t necessary mean I’m lazy. As long as it comes from an empowering place of choice—my own choosing—doing nothing is an action!

    6. Love and approve of myself, as I am.

    I’ll be brutally honest with this one: I often used to put other people’s needs above my own not because I genuinely wanted to help others. In many cases, I did it because I wanted people to like me. I wanted to be seen as someone who could handle everything in my private life and career so that people would perceive me as invincible, irreplaceable, and strong. Especially at work, I wanted to feel important, valuable, and needed.

    This came along with a very strong need for control, as I thought that would allow me to trust that I’d always be included in my group of friends, safe and never abandoned. According to Maslow’s pyramid of human needs, we all have a basic need to feel a sense of belonging to a group or community. However, if the cost is living behind a mask and having a hidden agenda, our relationships can become inauthentic, unhealthy, and even toxic.

    Looking back on my past, I realize that I often used others as an instrument of self-validation. I spent so much of my precious time trying to please others that I didn’t have any energy to focus on myself and what I truly wanted.

    I needed others to fill my void and help me avoid myself. Focusing on other people was a way for me to escape my own flaws and limitations. I used to associate this behavior with the extroverted side of my personality, but today I know that was a lie.

    Once I learned to approve of myself unconditionally and treat myself as if I were my own best friend, I didn’t need others to validate me. Though I still need to be loved and appreciated, I am not needy for approval any longer. And I no longer try to control how people perceive me, as I know they’ll always see me filtered through their own lenses.

    —

    Once I began to take care of myself—body, mind, and soul—I started to feel happier and more balanced, energized, and alive. Investing in my self-care was the best decision I could ever make, and a life changing one.

    And now, I would like to hear from you. Have you ever felt like taking care of yourself and prioritizing your heart’s desires was selfish? Do you also tend to put other people’s wants and needs before your own? And why do you think that is?

  • Don’t Trade Your Authenticity for Approval

    Don’t Trade Your Authenticity for Approval

  • What to Do When Your Need to Please Is Ruining Your Life

    What to Do When Your Need to Please Is Ruining Your Life

    “We are captives of our own identities, living in prisons of our own creation.” ~Theodore Bagwell

    Have you ever thought you had to do what other people said or they wouldn’t love you?

    Have you felt selfish for wanting to put your needs first, or guilty for setting limits with the people you care about?

    Have you learned that even when you’ve complied with everyone’s wishes and whims they still weren’t happy, and you weren’t either?

    Welcome to the deception of people-pleasing. Welcome to the story of my life.

    There is no tragedy greater than being alive but not feeling it because you’re numb, aloof, and emotionless. For many years I lived that way, showing all the signs of being alive but never truly living. That’s because I felt a strong desire to give all of myself in order to pay back the world for everything I’d been given.

    You see, I had the American Dream. I was granted many blessings, and by all accounts, I should have been happy. But I didn’t feel a thing—especially not happiness.

    It took me a while to identify the missing piece that kept me from truly experiencing my life: I wasn’t living as the person I really wanted to be. I was living my life to please others, make them happy, and follow society’s rules.

    I thought I was doing the right thing; I truly believed, “Eventually, all this selfless work will bring me the happiness I deserve on a silver platter.” But it never really worked out that way. It seemed the more I did, the less fulfilled I felt.

    My early life experiences shaped me into a people-pleaser. Though I was grateful for everything I was given, I was also aware that I’d been born into difficult family circumstances. Pleasing others was my way of coping with it.

    Like most young children, all I wanted was to gain my parents’ attention and approval. But praise was a scarce resource in my household, and both of my parents readily doled out criticism. I quickly become aware of how my actions affected them, so I acted in approval-seeking ways and suppressed my feelings in order to avoid punishment.

    I didn’t want to be criticized or berated in front of others, so I became the child, teenager, and adult of my parents’ dreams. They still found fault at times—which crushed me—but I ultimately did everything I could to make it up to them.

    This trap I had fallen into got deeper when my parents divorced. I tried to appease both of them by sticking myself in the middle of their marital battle and protecting my siblings from having to bear the brunt of their anger. I became my parents’ mediator, and this form of communication spiraled me into a deep depression that no one knew about but me.

    I lost a lot of weight, my grades dropped in school, and I no longer found any pleasure in activities I once enjoyed. But with a brave face, I trudged along and dealt with it so that my siblings wouldn’t have to. I convinced myself that this was my way of fulfilling my duty as a daughter and avoiding criticism.

    Growing up in these circumstances led me to believe I was responsible for how others felt. I learned to shape my personality, behaviors, and reactions according to what other people wanted or needed from me instead of being authentic to how I truly felt.

    Because of my parents’ often extreme reactions to situations, I came to believe that I needed to change; but the truth is, their reactivity was their responsibility.

    You see, we tend to call people who display this pattern of behavior people-pleasers, doormats, or approval-seekers. We describe them as being selfless. People-pleasers rarely say no, are super responsible, spend most their time doing for others, and are viewed as the nicest kinds of people.

    On the surface, it can seem like being a people-pleaser is the right thing to do; but over time, this identity wears a person down, and all that pleasing turns into an unhealthy pattern of behavior that doesn’t actually end up pleasing anyone in the long run.

    Your Identity

    I used to identify myself as being a good, nice, and selfless person who was always accommodating others.

    When I self-identified as having certain personality attributes, it dictated my actions and led me to believe I needed to act in certain ways to match society’s standard of how a good and nice person behaves.

    Even when my actions weren’t aligned with how I truly wanted to live my life, I found myself complying anyway. I worked hard to avoid looking selfish, unaccommodating, or disagreeable, and I avoided confrontation at all costs.

    I stopped this pattern when I came to realize that being a good person is a lot more complex than just accommodating the needs of others all of the time.

    When I realized that constantly giving in wasn’t as loving as I thought it was, and that the way I was acting didn’t come from a loving place at all but from a place of guilt and inadequacy, that’s when I decided to go from people-pleasing to living life on my own terms.

    That’s when I started to evolve from selfless to self-full. That’s when I deconstructed my identity as a people-pleaser and restructured my life. That’s when I decided that living my own life was more important than my parents’ approval of me.

    If the need to please has been running your life, here are some ideas to support your shift from selfless to self-full.

    1. Understand that other people are responsible for themselves.

    Being a people-pleaser allowed me to overlook one important fact: other people are responsible for themselves and their own problems.

    Somewhere down the road I decided that other people’s problems were my problems. I believed it was my responsibility to make other people feel better. For as long as I can remember, I played the caretaker role in my life; but all it got me was a burdening sense of obligation and crippling anxiety.

    It’s important for you to remember that you aren’t responsible for how others feel or act. If you try to please people because you’re scared of their reactions, that’s a sign that you need to start making a change.

    You see, when you take on other people’s responsibilities, you’re allowing them to continue acting irresponsibly; you’re permitting and promoting their unhealthy patterns.

    The next time you’re inclined to take on someone else’s stuff, ask yourself, Does taking on this person’s responsibilities really make me a good person? Is it actually kind to keep people from taking ownership of their own lives?

    You’re likely to find that the answer is no, and then you can explore how to be supportive without taking over completely.

    2. Stop trying to keep the peace.

    I often used to wonder why I was surrounded by selfish people; from my perspective, everyone else was the problem. But on my journey to self-fullness I realized that they weren’t the problem; I was.

    By trying to keep the peace in my relationships, I was overlooking the ways in which other people were taking advantage of me. I ignored their twisted priorities because I thought I should play nice all the time.

    It’s important to keep in mind that sometimes the better, more loving choice is the more uncomfortable, anxiety provoking one. Truly loving behavior calls for limits, boundaries, and saying no every once in a while.

    Some people will get upset with you or throw a tantrum like a two-year-old, but the cost of ignoring your boundaries is much greater than that. So stop thinking that keeping the peace is better for your relationships. The truth is it’s much better to be honest and upfront.

    3. Know the consequences of seeking approval.

    Living your life through fear of criticism and rejection doesn’t allow you to truly live at all. Constantly censoring yourself doesn’t allow you to see the freedom of choice that you really have. When you’re seeking approval all the time, you aren’t really growing.

    My approval-seeking behavior stemmed from a belief that my mental health depended on my being liked; if people didn’t like me, I didn’t feel worthy. The consequence of this was that my value as a person was totally dependent on what other people thought of me. Any criticism made me feel terrible about myself, so I avoided it by acting in ways that would gain others’ approval.

    I finally broke this pattern by placing more value on seeking approval from myself. By figuring out who I was and what I valued, I was able to create a stronger sense of self. When you know who you are and accept yourself, other people’s criticism doesn’t bother you too much at all.

    4. Become self-full.

    If you’re caught up in the people-pleasing cycle, you probably think it’s selfish to consider your needs first. Once you shift your idea of what it means to be a good person, like I did, you’ll see it isn’t selfish—but rather self-full–to put yourself first.

    Much of my desire to change came from realizing that if I didn’t start valuing myself, my relationships would suffer. Although it might seem counterintuitive, prioritizing your needs and gaining a strong sense of self is actually better for other people, because it serves to strengthen the relationships you have with them.

    It’s for this reason that placing your needs first is self-full rather than selfish. It’s about seeing your value and knowing your worth as a person. When you do this, others can start seeing your value also, and your relationships can start to transform.

    Final Thoughts

    The journey to self-fullness is all about trial and error. It’s about making mistakes, changing your behaviors, and asserting your own decisions.

    I started to feel happy and truly alive when I started to get to know myself, learning when to say no and when to set limits in my relationships. It wasn’t easy. I had to get used to some criticism and disappointment; I had to grow a stronger backbone. However, I can say without hesitation that it was worth it. And I know it will be worth it for you, too.

    Your life should be lived the way you want to live it. No one should have the power over you to dictate how you need to live your life. The more you get to know who you are, and the more boldly you begin to live life on your terms, the better you’ll feel about yourself.

    I no longer make decisions out of fear or wind up washed over with resentment. Now I do things for people because I want to, not because I’ll feel guilty if I don’t. I no longer need other people to make me feel worthy; I give that sense of worthiness to myself by knowing and accepting who I am.

    It will serve you greatly to let go of the idea that people need saving and it’s your responsibility to do it. Somewhere down the road, you internalized the message that you have to be responsible for how others feel. But the truth is, you aren’t responsible for anyone else’s feelings but your own.

    You can’t live a healthy, happy life if you’re too busy managing your feelings and other people’s feelings at the same time. Remember, people can take care of themselves. That idea will leave room for you to take care of yourself, too.

  • Seeking Outside Approval Is Giving Our Power Away

    Seeking Outside Approval Is Giving Our Power Away

    Oil Painting Texture

    “When you do not seek or need approval, you are at your most powerful.” ~Caroline Myss

    Back in the winter of 2012, I was devastated by a sudden near-deaf experience (90% hearing loss), which led me to a dead end in my IT career.

    “You’ve been overworked. Rest is the only way to recuperate,” said every single doctor.

    Leaving my corporate sales job left me feeling like a total failure.

    I felt lost, confused, and frustrated as darkness swallowed my self-esteem.

    “Why did you have to work so hard and not get the credit you deserved?!” 

    “Is deafness all you got in return for striving toward excellence all these years?!”

    “You are worthless!” 

    As an overachiever and a perfectionist, I felt overwhelmed by a shame storm.

    I was caught up in bitterness and a sense of injustice until one day I realized that I was battling with myself, and the self-loathing quotient went off the chart.

    “What do you want, Universe? Don’t you see that I’m suffering?” I ranted out loud like a mad victim.

    Even though spirituality wasn’t my thing at that point in time, I literally “heard” a clear voice: “Own it. Take stock of your life now, Jen.” This triggered me to start asking why in heaven I had gotten myself into this mud hole.

    Connecting with My Younger Self

    With my eyes closed I saw a seven-year-old girl, the little me. She was taught to be very self-disciplined academically, as she was told to excel and work hard.

    Her sole goal was for her parents to put her on a pedestal for being good and intelligent.

    Since she came from a family where praise was like a foreign language, validating children for trying hard hadn’t been the parenting style in the house. Instead, there was often an attitude that the children could do better—they could work harder to achieve more.

    Hearing her parents give random compliments to other kids at the same age irritated her. She could only draw this conclusion: “Doing my best is not good enough, so I need to try even harder, or else I won’t be worthy of love and attention.”

    From then on, she constantly craved compliments and approval.

    “Jen, great job, keep up the good work!” Those simple comments were like water to her thirsty soul.

    Years later, she became masterful at overachieving, perfecting, and competing, which helped her gain “confidence” through compliments from other people.

    If she ever heard a negative comment, it could ruin her whole day. She’d go home discouraged and mentally lash herself for not doing well enough.

    She didn’t know what to say without first checking other people’s facial expressions. She lived on their compliments as the life stream of her self-worth. Until one day, she realized she’d lost it all. Her physical and emotional wellbeing had gone bankrupt, but worse her authenticity had gone down the drain.

    Even now, I can still feel her pain, the insecurity, the fear of rejection, and the strong need to be loved wrapped underneath a people-pleasing mask.

    Path of Returning to the Truth

    Deep down in my core, I knew that my mother and father, just like many other typical Asian parents, wanted their children to have better lives, and they believed that would come from in excelling in school so they could get better jobs, make more money, and be prosperous.

    I still thought that they should’ve done better, because they weren’t mindful enough to give me the emotional support I needed in my childhood. I got stirred up about it, and I even wanted to confront my parents with a letter to tell them what I thought after all those years.

    Just before I was about to take action, I heard something from inside saying, “They did you wrong, didn’t they? They didn’t give you what you needed, did they?”

    “They sure did!” I replied.

    Then the voice asked, “How do you think you would’ve done if you would’ve been in their shoes, with three kids to raise, with a business to run, with aging parents to take care of, and with a load of family chaos to be sorted out?”

    This conversation changed my perspective. I realized that my parents had done the best they could with what they had. They couldn’t give me what they didn’t even have themselves. I began to feel ashamed of my immaturity and selfishness.

    This time, the shame level was way stronger than it was when I left my corporate job involuntarily and felt worthless.

    Blaming is like putting a Band-Aid on a bullet wound; it never works. I realized that I was the one not letting anybody off the hook while busy swimming in the pool of victimhood.

    Lessons Learned

    Regaining my hearing after two months was a divine miracle, but I’m grateful that the silence taught me the following lessons about understanding others and releasing the need for approval.

    1. Stop seeking validation from others.

    It’s great when people believe in us, cheer us on, and make us feel valuable. We love when our partners compliment us or a friend is there to give encouragement.

    But you cannot become so dependent on people that you derive your worth and value from how they treat you. It’s easy to become addicted to compliments, addicted to encouragement, addicted to them cheering you on.

    But if other people change their minds and stop giving you the compliments you crave, then you’ll feel devalued. If they don’t meet all your expectations, you’ll get discouraged and feel inferior. You’ll start working overtime, people-pleasing to win their approval.

    At some point, like a mother weans a baby off a bottle, you have to break your need for external validation.

    You no longer need people complimenting you to keep you encouraged. Praise is nice to hear, but you can develop self-sufficiency.

    2. Have compassion for others.

    The truth is, our friends and family members have their own problems. They are not responsible for keeping us happy and making us feel good about ourselves. Don’t put that extra pressure on them. It’s unfair to the people who are in our lives.

    Moreover, sometimes when people don’t give us what we need, it’s because they don’t have it, because nobody gave it to them. If they weren’t raised showing affection to people, and we keep trying to get it from them, we’ll likely end up frustrated.

    Maybe they did the best they could. They may have made a decision that we don’t understand, and we may feel like it has put us at a disadvantage, but at least we didn’t have to walk in their shoes.

    3. Start approving of yourself.

    What people do, or don’t do, doesn’t determine our worth. Our value doesn’t come from another person; it comes from ourselves.

    People may not encourage us, but we can encourage ourselves. People may not make us feel special, but we can make ourselves feel special. We’ll have better relationships if we start validating ourselves instead of becoming needy and waiting for other people to give us our approval fix.

    Learn how to compliment and validate yourself. Practice affirming: I am strong. I am healthy. I am highly favored. I am beautiful. I am lucky. (Be creative!)

    4. Don’t give your power away.

    When a person walks away, wrongs us, or even makes hurtful comments, we need to learn to shake off that disrespect.

    Don’t believe the lies that we are not talented enough, attractive enough, or good enough. They don’t determine our value. They can’t lessen our self-worth. The only power people have over us is the power we give to them.

    We don’t have to play up to people to try to win their favor. If they don’t want to be in our lives, it’s actually their loss, not ours.

    —

    If you learn this principle of not relying on people for your worth and start generating your own approval and acknowledgment, you won’t feel crushed when somebody doesn’t give you what you expect.

    The less we depend on people for validation, the stronger we’ll become and the higher we will go.

  • Happiness Means Loving Yourself

    Happiness Means Loving Yourself

    Happiness

  • Happiness Is Feeling Good About Yourself Without Needing Approval

    Happiness Is Feeling Good About Yourself Without Needing Approval

    Happiness

  • Why I Won’t Tell You to Stop Caring About What Other People Think

    Why I Won’t Tell You to Stop Caring About What Other People Think

    Two women talking

    “A man cannot be comfortable without his own approval.” ~Mark Twain

    I almost didn’t dye the tips of my hair purple a couple years ago because I was so worried about what other people might think. While changing my hair color was something new for me, basing my decisions on other people’s opinions was not.

    I tend to look to others for clues about how I should think and act. Sometimes this shows up in small things, like opinions about movies, music, or clothes. Even when asking big life questions, however, my first impulse is often to wonder what other people think I should do.

    It’s a natural human tendency to want to gain others’ approval. We’re afraid of being rejected and forced to navigate life’s challenges all on our own. While we may have good reasons for meeting expectations, basing our lives on what other people think has its drawbacks.

    It’s lonely.

    When I change to speak and act the way others think I should, I’m not letting people see the real me. There’s limited benefit to people liking me if the person they like isn’t actually who I am. When someone connects with a pretend version of me, it doesn’t meet my very real need to be known.

    It hinders self-expression.

    When I base my choices on what other people think, the things I choose often don’t accurately reflect my own preferences. I live my life as generically as possible to avoid offending anyone. I miss out on showing others what really matters to me, and the world misses out on what I have to give.

    It filters out valuable information.

    When I give a lot of weight to other people’s opinions, I overlook a very important opinion—mine. There may be a lot of great advice out there, but I’m the only one who can decide what fits best for me. Repeatedly quashing my own opinion reinforces the belief that my thoughts aren’t worth as much as other people’s.

    It limits growth.

    When I look to other people for my answers, I don’t have to do the hard work of wrestling with my own questions. I don’t take responsibility for myself when I can more comfortably blame the person whose opinions I’m following. Instead of stretching myself to become more fully who I am, I keep squeezing myself into someone else’s idea of who I should be.

    Constantly trying to meet other people’s expectations is a painful and dissatisfying way to live.

    To counter this, a common piece of advice is to not give a @#$% what anyone else thinks. I have to admit, after the pressure of trying to please everyone, the idea of disregarding all those outside thoughts sounds like a relief.

    Of course, it’s hard to make such an extreme shift all at once, but I’ve given it a try. I’ve tried showing up to social events without caring about what anyone thought of me, only to feel aloof and arrogant. I’ve tried talking about things that matter to me without caring about what anyone thought of them—but, instead of my vulnerability bringing us closer, I felt myself hardening against the people listening.

    The thing is, not caring about what other people think is not the same as learning to value what I think. I can shut out everyone else’s thoughts and still be telling myself I’m worthless. The drawbacks of not caring about what other people think look awfully familiar.

    It’s lonely.

    When I care too much about what other people think I don’t have sufficient boundaries, but not caring isn’t establishing boundaries. It’s building walls.

    In order to not care, I can’t let anything in. I can’t let anyone’s thoughts get close enough to touch me. Either way—whether my own identity is being overwhelmed or I’ve erected a barrier between us—we are not connecting one human to another.

    When I don’t care what people think, I’m not mindful of how my words and deeds impact them. I act as if I’m superior to others. I may not even notice the hurt or inconvenience I leave in my wake.

    A crucial part of relationships is knowing and being known, hearing and being heard. Imagining nobody cares what I think feels incredibly lonely. And let’s face it, if I don’t care what someone thinks, why would they want to be my friend?

    It hinders self-expression.

    It might seem like not caring about what other people think would give me complete freedom to be fully myself. This actually hasn’t been the case. Honestly, when I don’t care what other people think, I feel and act like a jerk, and that just isn’t me.

    The truth is, my connections with other people are part of who I am. Making a difference in other people’s lives is a key ingredient to the things that matter most to me. It would feel less risky to give of myself if I didn’t care about the response, but that same lack of engagement would make my actions less satisfying.

    It filters out valuable information.

    Not caring about what other people think does make space for me to start paying more attention to what I think, but it comes at the cost of other valuable information. I lose out on what I can learn from other people’s thoughts.

    Often the hardest to hear thoughts come from the people I care about most. The people who know me best not only have the strongest opinions about what I should do, but also have the clearest insight into who I am.

    Although their thoughts aren’t always helpful, I’m grateful for people who have been willing to share an insight they knew I wouldn’t want to hear. Sometimes I need an outside perspective to help me see where what I’m doing doesn’t line up with who I say I am and where I want to be heading.

    The thing is, not caring about what others think isn’t just about ignoring the hurtful. I miss out on the encouragement, positive feedback, and insightful challenges as well. I can’t just listen when people are telling me what I want to hear.

    It limits growth.

    When I build walls instead of establishing boundaries, I don’t have to get clear on my needs and preferences. I keep everything out instead of exercising discernment around what I’ll allow in and what I won’t. I don’t practice respectfully engaging with other people’s perspectives without sacrificing mine.

    New possibilities grow out of differing opinions. I can learn so much from other people’s perspectives and experiences. They challenge me to examine and refine my own ideas.

    Thankfully, my options aren’t either losing myself in trying to please others or living without any concern for how my words and actions impact those around me. I can care about other people’s thoughts and opinions without letting them define me.

    The answer isn’t choosing between two extremes, but learning to live in the tension between them. I still often overcorrect, skidding back and forth between caring too much and too little. With practice it’ll become easier to find a balance, but I doubt the struggle will go away completely.

    Rather than trying to decide whether or not I care, I’m learning to decide how I want to respond. Asking these simple questions helps bring clarity.

    What is our relationship?

    Of course, I can’t always care what everyone thinks. There are different levels of relationship. Some people just don’t know me or what matters to me well enough to offer relevant opinions.

    On the other hand, there are people who want the best for me. Just because I’m close to someone doesn’t mean I’ll agree with what they think, but I’m willing to spend more energy considering the thoughts of people who have shown they care about me.

    What is the intent?

    While I can’t know for sure someone else’s intentions, I can consider whether they are trying to help me or hurt me. I try to assume the best, but it can be wise to disregard the opinion of someone who is trying to cut me down.

    Even those who are honestly trying to be helpful don’t always have the purest motives. Sometimes they may want me to do what they think will keep me safe or bring me their idea of success. I can appreciate their intentions while still following my own course.

    Is it helpful?

    Other people’s thoughts are data to be considered. Just like my own thoughts, however, some ideas are more helpful than others. I don’t have to view anyone’s thoughts as the truth about who I should be in order to learn from them. There is usually something I can learn—even if it’s just that I can’t make everyone happy.

    What do I think?

    The real question isn’t whether or not I care what other people think, but how much I value what I think. When I value my own thoughts and opinions, I can also care about theirs without letting myself be defined by them.

    There’s a difference between caring about what someone thinks and accepting it as true. I can listen to what others have to say and still make up my own mind.

    Whether I care too much or too little, focusing on my response to another’s thoughts is still choosing to shape my identity in relation to theirs. I’d rather focus on learning to appreciate my own thoughts more fully so I can care about people and what they think without sacrificing who I am.

    Do you tend more toward caring too much or too little about what others think? What do you find most helpful in valuing your own thoughts?

  • Why Insecurity & Approval-Seeking Lead to Unhealthy Relationships

    Why Insecurity & Approval-Seeking Lead to Unhealthy Relationships

    “Your relationship with yourself sets the tone for every other relationship you have.” ~Robert Holden

    As a child I was carefree and enthusiastic. Aren’t most kids? At some point, though, life began to impact me and to affect how I felt about myself.

    For as long as I can remember, I was a chubby kid. I began using food as a means of coping, and my family didn’t seem to see it as an issue. Coming from an Italian family, food was correlated with love.

    As I moved into my adolescent years, being chubby was no longer “cute,” and other kids picked on me consistently.

    I began to realize the world was not so kind. My peers were mean, and so were some people who should have been mentors. I began to feel isolated and alone.

    I couldn’t understand why people were so cruel, and I began to turn my pain inward. I thought there had to be something wrong with me.

    I began trying to change in an attempt to win people over. I was able to do this easily, largely because I was very giving. Looking back, I realize I was buying friendships. I still know many of those people today, but I’m sad to say they eventually became acquaintances.

    Though I wasn’t attracting bad people, my relationships with them negatively impacted my sense of self because I wasn’t being authentic. I now know that trying to prove our worth to others increases our feelings of isolation and shame, because it reinforces that we aren’t valuable without their approval.

    My dysfunctional relationship with food continued throughout my college years. Eventually, I stopped coping through overeating and began to restrict and over-exercise instead—again, trying to change myself in and attempt to gain acceptance from others.

    Yet I never felt accepted. I continued to attract relationships that were not healthy for me.

    When we feel insecure, we often will attract people who feed into that insecurity.

    In my case, I attracted people who were either emotionally unavailable or critical of me. I would make them a priority, even though I was only their option. Because I had low self-worth, I gravitated toward people who treated me the way I saw myself, and ultimately, felt more alone.

    All my relationships were codependent, and this bred insecurity and pain. If healthy individuals crossed my path, I repelled their love and their support.

    I just wanted to be liked. I just wanted to be loved.

    I married the first person who showed me a taste of what I thought love was, and nine months after we said “I do,” we divorced. I was walking through the script of what I thought was supposed to happen in life, without any connection to whom I was and what I needed.

    Needless to say, divorce was a rough time, but it was also a blessing in disguise. I was forced to get acquainted with myself. I went through terrible financial strain, lost friends, got into some legal trouble, and really just lost myself. But, did I ever have myself? I don’t think I did.

    I never knew what it meant to be a true friend because I wasn’t being a good friend to myself.

    During this time, I became even more scared and lost. I disconnected from people that potentially cared for me, and I couldn’t blame them for ending our friendships.

    Many assumed I was disingenuous because I was constantly shifting who I was around different people. They also assumed I was being selfish and a bad friend when I skipped social gatherings, when in actuality, I only stayed home because I felt anxious, insecure, or depressed.

    Though their rejection hurt, I understand why they didn’t trust me. When we don’t know and trust ourselves, how can we expect others to do so?

    Through years of falling down and getting back up, I learned what it meant to be there for myself. I was looking to others to give me worth, without trusting that I had any.

    One of the hardest things we have to do in life is get to know ourselves and love ourselves through that process.

    Once you learn about yourself, you learn what and whom you need in your life.

    It takes honesty, humility, and accountability to develop a true relationship with yourself. You have to be able to dig deep and recognize your faults. You have to show yourself the loving-kindness you show the people you care about.

    I became very familiar with myself. It took time, and it was painful, but I truly have become my own best friend.

    When we learn about what makes us tick, what motivates us, and what we will and will not tolerate, the right people come into our lives.

    People treat us the way we allow them to treat us. When we love ourselves, we set healthy boundaries with others. We don’t accept, tolerate, or reinforce what is potentially harmful to us.

    So, how do we start loving ourselves? How do we stop trying to change who we are to get other people to like us?

    First, we need to become acquainted with ourselves.

    We need understand our feelings and learn to listen to our intuition.

    We cannot run away from our feelings through self-judgment, numbing, or lashing out. We have to meet our feelings with compassion.

    Moreover, once we hear our intuition, we have to be able to honor that by setting boundaries with others. We cannot be afraid to say no. The best rule of thumb is that saying yes to others should not be saying no to yourself.

    We need to make time for ourselves.

    It’s important to fulfill our own needs. We need to do things that we love and take good care of ourselves. We need to learn to enjoy our own company. We need to learn how to dig deep and be honest with ourselves so that we don’t lose ourselves in relationships with others.

    We have to practice forgiveness.

    We have to learn to forgive ourselves and others. We need to process old wounds and resentments. We have to trust that our mistakes bring lessons, and understand that we are all ever-changing works-in-progress.

    We have to be able to accept where we are right now, while striving for where we may want to be.

    The person at the top of the mountain did not fall there. It’s important to be patient with ourselves through the different chapters of our lives. We cannot compare our beginning to someone else’s middle.

    We have to realize we are beautiful just as we are.

    There is no need for a mask, and no benefit of pretending to be someone you are not. You have nothing to prove to others. Dr. Seuss once said “Be who you are and say what you feel because those who mind don’t matter and those who matter don’t mind.”

    We have to love the parts of ourselves that brings no applause from others.

    Our beauty lies in our imperfections, vulnerabilities, and insecurities. When we embrace who we are and show up authentically, we open ourselves up to real love, relationships, and happiness.

    —

    I have learned that I am worthy of love and acceptance regardless of my past.

    Once we fully grasp this, we only allow people into our lives who reinforce our worth.

    My circle has changed regularly and has become quite small, but the quality has improved greatly.

    When you love yourself, you won’t allow anyone or anything to get in the way of that love.

  • You Don’t Need Anyone’s Approval in Order to Be Good Enough

    You Don’t Need Anyone’s Approval in Order to Be Good Enough

    You don't need anyones affection or approval