Tiny Buddha

Tag: arguments

  • I Thought I Was Protecting My Peace, But I Was Just Avoiding Conflict

    I Thought I Was Protecting My Peace, But I Was Just Avoiding Conflict

    “Embracing our vulnerabilities is risky, but not nearly as dangerous as giving up on love and belonging and joy—the experiences that make us the most vulnerable.” ~Brené Brown

    If the title of this post gets under your skin, don’t worry, it gets under mine, too. I have a fierce aversion to conflict. That doesn’t mean I won’t engage in it, but it does mean that I’m very open to any suggestion that might give me license to not engage in it.

    So, when I learned the phrase “protect your peace,” I found myself particularly drawn to it.

    The concept of protecting your peace is one of conflict avoidance. It connotes the idea that some arguments are not worth having, and some people are just not worth arguing with.

    Protecting your peace, in those cases, means choosing to disengage for the sake of your sanity. You end the conversation, block their number, and go no contact.

    And believe me when I say there are literally so many circumstances in which this is the correct and proper route to take. I refuse to waste my breath on someone who isn’t listening—particularly if they’re also committed to causing me pain. I have found protecting my peace in those cases to be a very effective tool that I wield generously.

    That said, l do sometimes wonder if the idea of protecting my peace has become an excuse to avoid any conflict—even the kind that I probably need to address head-on. It’s just so damn seductive to think of never having to tangle with other people. If someone hurts or disrespects me, I get to protect my peace!

    I can just walk away without acknowledging what they did. I can even feel good about it because I’m protecting my peace, after all.

    But what lesson am I teaching myself and others when I do that? What message does it send when I allow the idea of “protecting my peace” to turn me into a doormat for other people to step on? At what point does protecting my peace become disrespecting myself?

    Almost three years ago, my husband and I separated and were on the brink of divorce. Our marriage had been through too many hardships for one couple to bear, and the anger and resentment we’d built up toward each other was destroying the steady love we once shared. We weren’t sure if separating could save the marriage, but we decided to give it a try.

    During the six months we were separated, we both spent a lot of time in therapy confronting the ways we were both showing up negatively in the relationship. For me, it was stuffing my feelings and exploding later instead of speaking about them when they were still manageable.

    In the name of “keeping the peace” I was fostering resentment, hostility, and even fury. My refusal to communicate my needs and feelings was poisoning both me and my marriage from the inside out.

    What kept me silent was a simple yet devastating truth: I believed that speaking my needs and standing up for myself when things were difficult made me a cantankerous or difficult person. Perhaps, if I’m really honest, I didn’t think anyone would want to put up with me if I came with expectations—if I insisted on being treated the way I deserve.

    So, I gulped down the burning tonic of hurt and disappointment and called it “protecting my peace.” Doing otherwise would have meant stirring up “conflict,” and if I created conflict, then why would my husband (or anyone, really) want to put up with me? By avoiding conflict, I could carry on pretending like everything was fine while I built a wall of resentment, one brick at a time, between me and the person I loved most in the world.

    A very hard lesson I’ve only just begun learning is that sometimes standing up for myself is the route to peace. Sometimes holding people accountable for their behavior is how I teach them and myself what I’m worth. While avoiding conflict might feel good in the short term, in the long term it can have disastrous consequences for my self-esteem.

    I can attest firsthand that it already has.

    Not only that; extreme conflict avoidance can also affect my social well-being. Although conflict is never pleasant, conflict resolution can be very pleasant indeed. It’s what allows me to reclaim relationships, heal wounds, and grow together with the people I love instead of apart. If I let myself become too rigid in my conflict avoidance, I only stand to alienate ourselves from others. This is a lesson that, if I hadn’t begun learning sooner, would have cost me my marriage.

    I am learning, slowly but surely, how to articulate my difficult feelings. I’m finally summoning the courage to say the hard things, to speak up when I’m hurt or upset, and to clearly and kindly say what I need instead.

    In doing so, I am watching my relationships begin to thrive like never before. Most importantly, both through this work and the work my husband has done in his approach to our relationship, we have saved our marriage.

    It’s not always easy. In fact, sometimes speaking up creates more discomfort in the short term than stuffing things down like I used to. But for once, I am finally showing up fully and authentically.

    I have stopped swallowing poison and instead have begun giving myself the healing salve of self-expression. Despite the momentary discomfort that comes with allowing conflicts to come to the surface, the long-term joy of conflict resolution and mutual understanding always wins out.

    I guess, like most things, protecting our peace without avoiding healthy conflict and dialogue is about finding balance (which, I’m learning, is a skill we appear to be losing as a society). We have to learn when to protect our peace, when to stand our ground, and how to know the difference between the two. For now, I have a few questions I ask myself when deciding which path to take.

    This list of questions needs further thinking and perhaps some retooling, but here’s what I’ve got so far:

    1) Is this person someone I want to remain in a relationship with?

    2) Do I trust this person to listen to me if I share how they made me feel?

    3) Do I think there might be long-term damage to my self-esteem and self-image if I let this go unaddressed?

    4) Is it safe for me to engage in this conflict?

    If the answer to these questions is yes, I will summon the courage to engage in the conflict. I know that the conflict still might not be resolved, but at least I’ve done my best. If the answer to these questions is no, I am better off protecting my peace and walking away.

    Maybe I’ll schedule a phone call with a trusted friend or a session with my therapist to talk through my feelings about the situation. At least then I will get some validation and empathy, which will help me keep my self-esteem intact. I’m not saying it’s going to be easy, but with time, I do think having a system in place will help me find a balanced approach to handling conflict.

    I owe it to myself to try. And so do you, dear reader.

  • We’re Simply Communicating

    We’re Simply Communicating

  • How to Transform Your Relationship by Feeling Your Feelings

    How to Transform Your Relationship by Feeling Your Feelings

    It was late at night, and my husband and I were having an argument about the same subject we’d been arguing about for two decades—cooking and cleaning.

    The argument seemed to come out of nowhere. We were having a nice evening together, the kids were asleep, we were watching a movie and chatting. And then all of a sudden, the conversation went off on a tangent, and it felt like the ground we were standing on suddenly split and a deep dark cavern opened up between us.

    Here we were now, standing on either side, an insurmountable ravine between us, throwing anger and pain and disappointment at each other. Trying to convince each other of our own rightness in the situation.

    For the whole of our marriage, the patterns have been that I cook and organize the kids, he cleans and takes instructions about the kids—which, on paper, might seem reasonable, but we were both holding deep amounts of resentment, bitterness, and anger about this arrangement.

    It was not an arrangement that had been discussed. It was an arrangement that just evolved, and for some reason it drove us both into wild flames of anger.

    For days after these arguments, we would retreat inside our emotional selves, like wounded animals tending to the emotional wounds we had suffered. After we both emerged, we wouldn’t discuss the argument; it felt like it had taken so much out of our lives that we just wanted to skip onto the next thing. If I am honest, I knew I didn’t have the tools to discuss it in a way in that wouldn’t ignite the argument again.

    Why open up the wound when it felt like it had healed?

    But, of course, it wouldn’t have healed, and it would just come up again a few weeks or months down the line.

    Cut to five years later and the arrangements haven’t actually changed much, but these arguments have disappeared. Not only have the arguments stopped, the deep old bitterness and resentment have gone. And instead, the discussions about cleaning, organizing the children, and cooking are now mostly along the lines of how can I help you with what’s on your plate today?

    How did this happen? What radical change did we instigate, or did we just swap partners to people who were kinder and more reasonable?

    No, in these five years I learned about how the brain processes and perceives emotions, and that unlocked a totally new way of being in my relationship.

    What felt so radical for me is that when I learned how to work with my emotions in a different way, it changed how my husband (and my kids) started dealing with their emotions.

    I didn’t need to explain or discuss anything with them. But by showing up differently, I changed the emotional patterns of my family, and that was the most empowering thing I’ve experienced in my whole life.

    Here are five of the realizations that made the biggest shifts for me.

    1. What we learned about emotions is usually wrong. 

    Humans are meant to have emotions, and to have the whole range of emotions—anger and fear, sadness and despair, love and joy. These are all natural. But many of us learned that some (or even all) emotions are somehow wrong and we shouldn’t have them.

    Emotions are not meant to be suppressed, avoided, ranted about, thrown at other people, or handled in any of the other ways most of us learned to deal with emotions.

    Emotions are meant to be seen, felt, and heard. I like to think of emotions being like clouds. They arrive, we feel them, and then they drift out.

    What causes so many problems for us is that most of us didn’t learn to feel them in this way. We didn’t grow up with the sense that emotions are manageable, and that it’s possible to hold them gently in our bodies, allowing them to drift in and then drift out.

    This is because our parents and caregivers (and their parents and caregivers) usually struggled with their emotions, so we now struggle with ours.

    For example, anger: What did your parents do when you were a child and felt anger? Most of us would have been banished to our rooms for saying things in anger. Or maybe our parents tried to jolly us out of feeling anger, made fun of us, or told us to just get over it. Or our anger was met with our parents’ anger, and we were punished.

    What that teaches our brain is that anger is wrong. We shouldn’t feel anger. So, when anger comes up and we don’t know how to hold it, we can end up throwing it at other people by arguing or shouting, or keep it locked inside where it might feel totally uncomfortable and painful. Or we end up having endless angry looping obsessive thoughts that we just can’t stop.

    Anger ends up feeling very uncontrollable for us, impossible to have in our bodies, and scary for us to witness in others, and it can become a destructive force in our lives.

    But there is a different way with emotions, and this is what emotions actually want. They want to be seen, felt, and heard.

    Not to throw the anger at others or keep it inside to feel like it’s destroying our being, but to learn how to feel safe with it. To know that we can feel more at ease experiencing anger, so the anger can come up into our bodies and then come out as we release it.

    2. When emotions are high, logic goes out the door.

    When emotions activate, it’s like a giant lens comes up and we start to see the world through the lens of that emotion. So, when we feel anger, we see the world through the lens of anger. Which makes it seem like there are so many upsetting things in the world.

    Or fear—we see the world through the lens of fear and it seems like so many things are scary or terrifying.

    But the thing to know here is that it’s simply the emotion that is coloring our vision. If we are able to work with the emotion, then we stop seeing so many scary-terrifying things and start to see the world as a more nuanced and relaxed experience.

    So if I am seeing anger activate in my husband, or fear or sadness or any emotion, I know that he is seeing the world through this lens and there are no ‘facts’ or ‘logic’ that will change that.

    I, therefore, am not going to engage in conversations about cooking and clearing when he is in his emotions. Or anything that feels important to me. I will wait to talk about things that feel important to me when he isn’t emotional.

    3. We shouldn’t listen to our thoughts when we are emotional.

    Similarly, when I am feeling anger, instead of allowing my mind to find 234 things to feel angry about and then accusing my husband of being the cause of all of them, I am going to recognize that I feel anger and I am going to work with that emotion instead of throwing my anger at him.

    My feelings are my feelings, and his feelings are his feelings. And although my brain wants to say, “He’s the reason I am feeling angry! He’s to blame!”, the anger I feel is actually bigger and older than him. Most of our emotions arrived way before our current situation, experience, or relationship—even though it doesn’t feel that way. 

    Most of our feelings are old because we never got to process them—to see, feel, and hear them—so they stay trapped inside of us. So maybe we feel some new anger about a situation, but it gets added to the decades-old pile of anger that we haven’t processed, and that’s why it feels so very big, so very significant. and so painful.

    Emotions are yearning to integrate; they want to be released from our bodies, and so they look for things to bring them up, in the hope we will finally allow them to be here and fully allow them to be seen, felt, and heard.

    4. My emotions are my emotions; your emotions are your emotions. 

    By taking responsibility for our feelings as our own, we can move through them much more quickly than trying to work through them together. We get to get out the other side. And if we want to have discussions with our partners—say about cleaning and cooking and kids and arrangements—it’s on the other side of our feelings that we want to do it.

    When the anger has released, when the lens has been wiped clean. When we are through that feeling.  Then we can have empathy, understanding, and a much more expanded vision of our lives and relationships.

    Once I worked through my piles of historical anger, rage, and sadness that had accumulated over the decades of my life, and the pains of disappointment I had felt but tried to run away from, I automatically started to see the relationship I had totally differently.

    I was then able to communicate with my husband how I saw experiences and situations in our relationship from a place of calm. When I wasn’t throwing resentment and anger at him, and not having conversations when he was emotional as well, our communication totally changed its texture. We started to negotiate our needs and find the space to support each other from a place of empathy.

    5. What do emotions need? To be seen, felt, and heard.

    Emotions are looking for these three simple things. The first is to be seen, to be acknowledged—not blamed or judged (or blaming other people for having emotions). A simple step is to just see them:

    Oh, I see some anger has activated here!

    I am feeling some fear.

    What am I feeling? Gosh, I think it’s some disappointment, and some sadness. 

    And what emotions want so very much is to be met with empathy, understanding, and compassion:

    I am feeling so much anger right now; gosh, this is a lot! It’s uncomfortable and hard to stay with this feeling, but I understand why anger is here. This has always been a hard emotion for me. 

    Fear is a lot! But I am going to offer some compassion as I hold this fear, to sit with myself in it, and give myself a lot of empathy. 

    Disappointment is a tricky emotion for me! Can I offer myself some understanding here? To acknowledge it’s not easy for me as I learn how to be with this emotion with more kindness and gentleness?

    We need to step away from our thoughts in this process, to see that the emotions we experience are actually held in our body, and it’s in our body that we get to fully feel them.

    It’s by fully feeling our feelings, rather than getting lost in our thoughts, that we get the chance to release the intensity of our feelings.

    Not by following along with the blaming and judging ourselves or others.

    The last part is to hear them. Emotions are incredible guides for us when we learn how to feel and release them. They always come with guidance around our unmet needs. They aren’t here to punish us, but instead show us where we can become more authentic, more in line with our values, and stronger in our boundaries.

    When we decide to give ourselves space and support through our emotional reactions, this is what changes the texture of our relationships.

    What could your relationship be like if you were able to move through those big, sticky feelings that arise, that may cause conflicts or make you react differently to how you want to react?

    It’s not just the case of intimate relationships with our partners, but also true of our relationships with anyone we love. When we speak to our parents or siblings, our extended family, or friends, and we have big difficult feelings about them, if we can work through those feelings our relationships will automatically change.

    When we can unblock our relationships from big piles of shame, fear, anger, or loneliness, we can move into spaces where much deeper intimacy, mutual empathy, and support live.

    It’s a wildly beautiful place to live, in trust and connection, knowing that we can still have feelings, we can still have conflict—but when we can work with our emotions, we don’t stay stuck in a place of raw, untended pain that arises and derails our lives and our relationships.

  • How to Overcome Relationship Conflict with the Internalized Other Practice

    How to Overcome Relationship Conflict with the Internalized Other Practice

    “You can only understand people if you feel them in yourself.” ~John Steinbeck

    In the early stages of my relationships, I spent a lot of time trying to figure out what the other person was thinking. Hours of pondering whether they liked me, over-analyzing every text message, and worrying that every fight meant it was over.

    Over time, in a good long-term relationship, these challenges settle down. While longevity is not the only marker of a successful relationship, feeling safe and comfortable with someone over a decent stretch of time is undoubtably lovely. All those fear-based worries and insecurities fade, that feeling of being ‘on your toes’ disappears, and you finally feel like you can settle into something.

    However, a few years into my current and most serious relationship, there was something that continued to be a struggle. That struggle is mirrored by clients in my work as a counselor and relationship coach today. And it’s probably the most important thing we can address, as a partner and human being.

    In order to truly understand and empathize, we need to put ourselves in someone else’s shoes.

    How many times have we heard these words? How many times have we said them?

    And yet, is it something we are genuinely capable of?

    If so, how do we do it?

    I know for myself, it’s much harder than it seems. If I’m honest, my desire to be understood can override a desire to understand my partner. Sometimes I’m mystified as to why they don’t see things as I do. Isn’t it obvious that I’d be upset if you don’t want to spend time with people I love? If I get stuck making all the plans for our next holiday? Frustrated when you don’t speak up? While some of this is just a normal part of being in relationships, we can get stuck in misunderstandings that spell the death of connection.

    For instance, we might actively avoid understanding the people we are closest to. In the early days when they’re speaking of past hurts, we can listen wholeheartedly because we are not implicated in these situations. But if we are the cause of the hurt, we tend to leap to explanations or even excuses before empathizing and accepting. We want to get past the hurt quickly so we don’t have to feel bad or vulnerable.

    I remember once making what I thought was a ‘joke’ comment to my partner, and when they told me how I’d hurt their feelings, I dismissed it because I didn’t perceive it as hurtful. Deep down, though, I knew this wasn’t an isolated incident. I felt ashamed, and for a time this yucky feeling got in the way of me wanting to truly understand.

    This shame I felt at hurting my partner ended up becoming a catalyst for change. I was able to reflect and eventually understand how and why my partner felt hurt, and it completely changed my response.

    I stopped feeling self-protective and was able to apologize from a meaningful place. More importantly, I went forward from there really considering how my words might affect this person I love. And while I don’t always get it right (no one’s perfect), things got much better and we are happily ensconced nine years later.

    I did this by holding an ‘internalized other’ interview with myself.

    When I came across the ‘Internalized Other’ exercise, from family therapist Karl Tomm and used in the narrative therapy sessions I do, I realized this practice could be a game-changer in my relationship as well as many other people’s.

    Because the reality is that understanding others takes practice. Even if you’re innately empathic, genuinely putting yourself in a particular someone’s shoes can be a challenge when you are directly involved with them.

    This is the practice of embodying the full lived experience of an internalized significant other. Internalizing another person for the duration of a deep conversation (with them or with oneself) can make it possible to get out of stuck places, increase empathy, and allow new perspectives to bloom.

    More commonly, it’s a powerful tool used in a relationship therapy/coaching conversation with your partner present. It’s undoubtedly easier to do with a third party interviewing you, but you can try it with your partner where both of you embody the other. This is also something you can do on your own with a journal. The main thing you need is a true desire to put yourself in someone else’s shoes.

    I should mention now, this is not for everyone and every relationship. It’s a challenging process. If you’re in a relationship where you are regularly being undermined or uncared for or things are generally toxic, this isn’t something you should do, and I recommend seeking professional help. But if your mental health and relationship communication is pretty good, then full steam ahead.

    The simplest description of an internalized other interview is that you answer a series of questions as if you are this significant person and not yourself. The questions tend to start light and get more personal and deep as you go on.

    It sounds easy, but it’s incredibly difficult. Most people slip into themselves fairly quickly, especially if we’re discussing a perceived injustice or a hurt. Stuck places hold us captive, but it’s vital we learn to break free from them.

    That’s why it’s important to not just think about the person but try to embody them. If you are doing this in conversation, get up and swap seats. If you’re alone, try sitting in their usual chair or on their side of the bed. Maybe have an item of importance to them in your hands or in your line of sight. You could even put on a favorite T-shirt if that’s not too silly.

    Then begin with some questions. Remember to use your partner’s name regularly to keep reminding yourself that you’re them. In this example, Charlie is trying to internalize Alex:

    1. The simple questions

    What’s your name? When’s your birthday, Alex? Where are you from and what do you like about your hometown? What do you dislike about it? Who’s your favorite musician? Where do you love going out for dinner, Alex? Are you a cat or a dog person and why? What makes you laugh?

    You can have a little fun here, before hitting the more serious stuff. If you slip up, slow it all down. It’s not a race to get everything ‘right.’ It’s about the energy you’re putting into the embodiment process. Take your time with step one. Wait until you start feeling a little more natural answering questions as this other person. This is the beginning of ‘internalizing’ the other.

    2. The personalized questions (that could stir a touch of conflict)

    Why do you keep that top with all the holes in it, Alex? What’s going through your mind when Charlie is cooking dinner? Why did you go out last Friday night even though you were tired?

    As you can see, some of the answers are going to be hard to come by. They might be questions you’ve wanted to ask your partner with genuine curiosity, so here’s your chance to try answer them. You aren’t just guessing though; this is still your interpretation of them. So focus less on getting it ‘right’ and more on the feeling you have of this internalized other person.

    Assume your partner isn’t motivated by selfishness or hurtfulness and go in with some real consideration and generosity of spirit. You’re spending time in their mind, in their heart, which is a privilege. Go back to step one if you’re really stuck here, and keep moving between step one and two until it feels more comfortable.

    3. The relational questions (getting to the heart of the matter)

    How do you feel about discussing this stuff today, Alex? What is your relationship to Charlie? How long have you been together? What drives you up the wall? What do you find most challenging about this relationship, Alex? What do you think the cause of these problems is? What happened last Friday? Can you describe it, Alex? How did you feel when this thing happened with Charlie? What did it get you thinking and wishing in regards to Charlie? What makes you feel more closed or more open with Charlie?

    As you can see, there’s a mix of questions here, ranging from broader relationship struggles and perspectives to more specific incidents. It’s up to you which direction you take this if you’re doing this on your own in your journal, or doing this as a couple without a therapist.

    Diving into something very specific (especially something that happens regularly) can be most helpful though, because these are the places we find ourselves most stuck and can even be the tipping point in whether a relationship continues. Be prepared for lots of emotions to arise here. You may need a hug or a cry, but don’t give up; this is also where the magic happens.

    4. More relational questions (with love and positivity, to wrap up)

    What do you like about being in a relationship with Charlie? What would you like Charlie to know that you appreciate most about them? What would be important for you to let Charlie know, Alex?

    This step is an invitation to bring things down and remember that the other person loves you (even if you’ve just been digging into the ways they’re struggling with the problems). Be kind to yourself. Internalized othering can be just as meaningful when exploring why we are uniquely loved by the other, so don’t stop at the problems.

    When I went through this process on my own, I found myself knocked for six. Intellectually I knew I had hurt my partner. But until I truly internalized their experience, I still believed that if they just understood I hadn’t meant anything by my comment, they would get over it. When I allowed myself to feel their feelings it was humbling. Only then was I able to change. As an added bonus, I find myself being curious all over again about this person on a daily basis.

    Internalizing another can be truly profound. You can solve a specific issue, you can look at a broader set of issues, and ultimately strengthen the flow of love between you. Even if you just do this process once with full commitment, the increase of empathy and ability to lay down defensiveness and become fascinated by someone you love (again) is nothing short of extraordinary.

  • When You’re Terrified of Conflict: Why True Intimacy Means Speaking Up

    When You’re Terrified of Conflict: Why True Intimacy Means Speaking Up

    “Conflict avoidance is not the hallmark of a good relationship. On the contrary, it is a symptom of serious problems and of poor communication.” ~Harriet B. Braiker

    I walk on eggshells in my relationship. I have for the past ten years.

    I try to design everything out of my mouth to lead to the least amount of friction between my wife and me. And you know what? It’s hurting our relationship.

    You see, I’m afraid of confrontation. For me, confrontation leads to tension and tension can lead to stress and angst.

    When I was a kid, tension, stress, and angst equaled punishment from my father, which usually came in the form of yelling and verbal abuse. As such, I learned to walk on eggshells around my dad.

    It was a defense mechanism. A way to survive my crazy, chaotic childhood.

    Unfortunately, I took this learned behavior out in the world as an adult and perfected it. I tip-toed around people out of fear of someone getting defensive or upset with me. It was exhausting, but in my mind, better than the alternative.

    With my wife, this behavior started innocently at first. For example, if she made a meal that I didn’t particularly like, I wouldn’t tell her the truth out of fear of her getting hurt or defensive about it.

    In my mind, if I was honest with her, she would get upset, and that was something I wasn’t willing to let happen. This seemingly innocent way of interacting led to the deeper core issue in our relationship—not being truthful with how I was really feeling.

    Instead, when I sensed that my wife was getting upset about something, I often shut down emotionally and hid. I was afraid of being my authentic self because I was certain it would lead to conflict, and conflict in my experience, like I said, leads to pain.

    As a child, whenever my dad and someone he was dating had a disagreement or a fight, the relationship would come to an end. Always.

    When one person would leave, another would show up and stay until there was a big fight. Then she would leave and another would be right around the corner and so on. This was the blueprint I witnessed as a child.

    Conflict = pain = endings

    He modeled a behavior for me, a way of being if you will, that I swore to avoid at all costs. Hence shutting down and emotionally hiding around my wife. I didn’t want a big blow up that ended our relationship.

    But here’s the thing, disagreements and conflict are a part of life. They happen over politics, money, and parenting.

    They happen in the workplace, over religion, and in schools. Disagreement and conflict are everywhere, and yes, they even happen in romantic relationships.

    But for those of us with any sort of childhood trauma, we hear a disagreement as a fight. And fights can lead to endings, which is something most of us don’t want. 

    That’s why I designed everything out of my mouth to lead to the least amount of disagreement with my wife. I didn’t want things to end. Little did I know, I was actually hurting things more than helping them.

    When we walk on eggshells in our relationships, we leak without knowing it. Leak meaning our insecurities and fears come out, and they can trigger the other person and give them reason to resent us.

    It’s counterintuitive. There’s no authenticity in it. There’s no connection or vulnerability.

    Intimacy, erroneously for many of us, is only viewed as closeness and feeling good, but that’s not accurate. Intimacy is also discomfort and disagreement and for people to be able to navigate that.

    Being intimate is sharing our reality and accepting the reality of another. When we walk on eggshells, we are not being intimate.

    Unfortunately, this realization is too little too late for me. My wife and I got recently divorced, and according to her this is one of the biggest reasons why. It’s sad and painful but something I felt necessary to share with you in the off chance of it helping someone else.

    The moral of the story? Bring to the relationship what you want your partner to bring to the relationship. Rise above your discomfort and be intimate.

    In tough moments I sometimes turn into a little child who doesn’t know how to articulate things, so I shut down and hide instead. But like I said, that’s not intimacy.

    Everyone is going to disagree or be disappointed in us at some point in time because they are human.  Our work is to be aware that others being disappointed with us does not equate to being in harm’s way.

    Knowing this is the difference between being a functional adult and being in our childhood trauma. It’s the difference between healthy adult pain and the wounded child pain.

    This is where my work is right now. Choosing intimacy and aliveness over people-pleasing and perceived safety. Slowing down in the moment and reminding myself that it’s okay to be scared and, even more so, to express it. The adaptive behavior of closing up and protecting myself doesn’t serve me anymore.

    I imagine there’s an immense freedom that comes with not being afraid of expressing or showing oneself to others. Moving forward, that’s my path (to the best of my ability, of course). Care to join me?

  • Are You Outgrowing Your Family? 6 Effective Ways to Manage This

    Are You Outgrowing Your Family? 6 Effective Ways to Manage This

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

    I always felt somewhat different from my family growing up.

    I didn’t have a terrible childhood—I was certainly loved, cared for, and looked after—but despite having two siblings, a mother, and a stepfather (who raised me), I seldom felt a sense of belonging and often times I felt very lonely.

    Growing up I could never quite put my finger on what it was that was different, but I just knew that I was. I knew that I didn’t see the world how my family saw it. I analyzed everything on a much deeper level. I viewed things differently, and a lot of my interests were different than my family.

    Late last year, I had just gotten back from a long weekend on a family trip and I was relieved to be home. I found the weekend to be exhausting and couldn’t wait for it to be over. I checked in with a friend and informed him about my weekend.

    “It sounds like you’ve outgrown your family.”

    I paused while I reflected on this statement. Just a couple of weeks prior I had written an article about outgrowing friendships. It never once crossed my mind that we could outgrow our own family.

    I mean, we can’t possibly outgrow our family, right? At best, they are our protectors and providers. They love us unconditionally, flaws and all, and they are our biggest supporters. We are tied and bonded by blood and DNA.

    I sat and reflected on this for a few days. If we can outgrow our friends and partners, then we can, too, outgrow our family.

    I had worked a lot on myself over the past ten years. I was committed to self-development, and although I was in no way perfect, I actively worked to be the best version of myself and tried to take something away from every difficult situation I was faced with.

    This inner work had enabled me to grow mentally, emotionally, and spiritually, while I believed my family were stuck in their ways, ignorant to the fact that as the world around us changes, so should our mindsets.

    As I did the inner work, I noticed I disagreed with more things that my family were saying and doing. Decisions they made and behaviors they displayed didn’t sit right with me a lot of the time. I was changing, leading me to drift further away from my family. The connection we once had was tearing at the seams, and I desperately wanted them to ‘catch up.’

    The trouble is, outgrowing our families can be complex. For example, when you outgrow your friends, you usually go your separate ways, open and ready to let people into your life who align with who you are at that time. But when this is family, it isn’t always that easy or the right thing to do.

    Below are some things you can implement in order to maintain healthy relationships with your loved ones when you have outgrown your family.

    1. Stop trying to change people who do not want to be changed.

    Whenever I found the courage to disagree with my family, I would spend a significant amount of time trying to reason with them and make them see a different point of view—that things are not always black and white, but there are sometimes grey areas too.

    Admittedly, I would often try to encourage personal growth and healing in the hope that they would view the world the way I did, and in the hope that we could connect on the same level we once did. This only created tension, frustration, and conflict.

    When I reflected on this, I realized that I had my own views on how I felt my family should behave or act, but not everyone had to think the same way I did. I also realized that I shouldn’t preach and try to push my ways of living on others, and that I didn’t always know best, especially since everyone is on their own journey and path to self-discovery.

    Everybody is responsible for themselves; you cannot change anyone if they do not wish to be changed. Perhaps, like mine, your family does not feel that they need to change. If this is the case, then you are fighting a losing battle. You cannot change anyone, and they cannot change you.

    2. Do not be afraid to let them know when you do not agree with them.

    There were times when I did not agree with my family’s decisions, opinions, or choices, and to keep the peace or to please them I would agree with them, at the detriment of being true to myself.

    This always led to me having a deep sense of discomfort when I had to pretend to be on their side of an issue. It always felt like my reality and spirituality were at war with one another, and I was being a traitor to myself.

    As I looked back, I realized that this had nothing to do with them and everything to do with me. I didn’t want to disappoint my family by having opposing views and feared how they would react if I voiced my true opinions.

    I also feared that I would be rejected, and moreover, I feared that any disagreements would lead to conflict.

    Understand that you are your own person. You may share blood and DNA, but you are on your own journey, and you may have morals and values that do not align with your family’s, and this is okay.

    While I was fearful of hurting my relationship with my family members by being honest, I also learned that not being honest with them could do just as much damage if they found out how I truly felt.

    You are entitled to your own opinions and views, and if your family or friends condemn you for not agreeing with them, then that is their problem and not yours. They should try to understand that our differences make us diverse and unique.

    Now, I can confidently and respectfully disagree with my family when I need to, without fear of consequences.

    3. Have compassion.

    While I have spent a significant amount of time healing from old wounds and past trauma in order to grow, spiritually, emotionally and mentally, not everyone in my family has.

    Everyone has their own struggles and battles, and we should not judge or condemn them but be compassionate toward them and their struggles.

    4. Establish new boundaries.

    Establishing boundaries is a solid foundation for any healthy relationship. When we have boundaries in place, we have a clear understanding of what is expected of one another.

    Boundaries have many benefits for our relationships; they are more likely to be respectful, with less conflict and more peace.

    Perhaps there are topics that you feel uncomfortable talking about with your family, or behavior that you simply won’t tolerate. Identify your limits and set those boundaries in place so everyone is clear on expectations.

    5. Understand “outgrowing” doesn’t mean “better.”

    The word “outgrown” gets a bad rap, which is why I have avoided using it with my own family for fear it will make them feel less-than. However, I am not better than my family, nor are they better than me.

    Outgrowing family does not mean that your life is now better than theirs, and the way you view the world holds more value than the way they view theirs.

    Outgrowing your family simply means that your values, morals, opinions, and views have changed and may be in conflict with one another’s. It means you are no longer in alignment with those you once were.

    Something changed, and that something is you (or them), and that’s okay. Change is natural and fundamental to progress in life. When you change, it can change the dynamics in relationships, sometimes for the better and sadly, sometimes for the worse.

    6. Learn conflict resolution.

    Nobody’s family is perfect; there will always be conflict. But this can be even more common if you feel you have outgrown your family because there may be more disagreements and behavior you can no longer tolerate.

    The ability to deal with conflict might just be the saving grace for serious fallouts and family dysfunction. This can include:

    • Addressing the issues
    • Finding a resolution to the problem
    • Agreeing to disagree without animosity
    • Using good communication skills; for example, actively listening
    • Not ignoring the conflict

    7. Distance yourself if needed.

    Being family does not have to mean that you are obliged to put up with anything you do not feel comfortable with, toxic behavior, or abuse, so if you need to distance yourself or cut off family members to protect your peace and mental health, you are well within your rights to do that.

  • How Sensitive People Can Stop Taking Things So Personally in Their Relationships

    How Sensitive People Can Stop Taking Things So Personally in Their Relationships

    “The truth is that the way other people see us isn’t about us—it’s about them and their own struggles, insecurities, and limitations. You don’t have to allow their judgment to become your truth.” ~Daniell Koepke

    As a child growing up with a highly sensitive mom, I often noticed her go quiet at the dinner table after my stepfather would make some little comment. Looking back, I know he was just tired and a bit grouchy from a long day at work, but my mom felt hurt by his words.

    Over the years, the comments didn’t lessen, but I noticed my mother being less and less bothered by them. They seemed to slide off of her like water off a duck’s back. As a result, my parents seemed to have a lot more fun, laughter, and ease together—and still, forty some years into their marriage, live happily side by side.

    Just like my mom did in the earlier days of her marriage, it’s so common for sensitive people to take things personally–both in our intimate relationships and in general–and for that to make the relationship more painful and less fulfilling.

    Up until seven or eight years ago, I, too, found myself getting easily hurt by things my husband did, or most often, the things he did not do.

    It stung when my husband didn’t seem to be listening when I was talking, when the scenery seemed to captivate his attention more than my heartfelt words, when he forgot to do the thing I’d asked him to do, or when he interrupted me when I was speaking—all of which happened (and still does) with regularity!

    One thing that felt especially hurtful then was when my husband would fall asleep while I was vulnerably sharing deep feelings about our relationship. I felt so hurt by his sleeping, like he didn’t really care about me.

    I’ve known many other sensitive people to take it personally and feel hurt when their partner doesn’t give them verbal appreciation when they do something nice or helpful, or when their partner isn’t as affectionate or openly enthusiastic about spending time with them.

    It is true that many partners do not always act with kindness or consideration. Yet, when we take it personally, the hurt we feel can show, often in how quiet we suddenly get, or in a slightly defensive reaction, or in outright tears.

    As we hold onto that hurt, over time, it takes a toll in our relationship and our emotional well-being.

    If you take things personally often in your relationship, it’s likely to build up some deep resentment and disappointment.

    It can also lead to defensive interactions with your partner, escalating arguments, and withdrawal or criticism from both sides—which only results in even more disconnection between you.

    Eventually, in my own marriage, I realized that taking things so personally was really rough on our relationship. Not only did it simply feel bad to me, but I also didn’t act how I really wanted to in my marriage. When I felt hurt, I would often retaliate with some criticism, like “Talking to you is like talking to a stone wall!”

    Needless to say, that led to more distance, discord, and deep unhappiness between my husband and me.

    So I looked to my mother and her wisdom. What she told me opened the door for me to the power of not taking things personally—and developing a whole arsenal of tricks to help me become someone who hardly ever takes anything personally anymore.

    What a blessing this has been in my marriage, and even in my career, allowing me to feel more confidence and calmness, and to love my hubby—and feel loved by him—more deeply than ever. (Yes, even if he spaces out—or falls asleep!—when I’m talking to him.)

    Not taking things so personally is possible for you, too, and it will allow you to have much more connection and loving intimacy in your relationship–which you were born for as a highly sensitive person.

    Here are six tips to help you, as sensitive person, become someone who no longer takes things so personally in your intimate relationship.

    1. Tend to your stress levels.

    As highly sensitive people, our nervous systems tend to get overloaded more quickly than non-HSPs, due to how deeply we process stimuli.

    This means you will feel more easily overwhelmed and stressed than non-HSPs if you are not attending to your nervous system regularly.

    Interestingly, research shows that when we have higher stress levels, we misinterpret neutral comments from others as criticism, or see their behaviors in a more threatening, negative light.

    In other words, unless you are regularly de-stressing, you are likely to see and experience everything your partner does or does not do in a much more negative way, take things more personally, and feel hurt a lot more.

    That hug your spouse resisted? If you were stressed, it may have seemed like he was actually snubbing you instead of just distracted by the kids. If you had been calm and centered, it would have been no biggy; maybe you would have even appreciated it that he was attending to the kids and taking some work off your hands.

    A huge part of our emotional well-being, and feeling connected instead of feeling hurt, depends on tending to our nervous systems regularly to keep our stress levels moderated.

    Some of my favorite ways of doing so include a medium-paced walk in nature, meditation, coherent breathing, yoga nidra, and dancing wildly or gently in my living room. There are many options. Find ones you like and add them—even just for a few minutes here and there—to your daily routine.

    2. Know your goodness.

    Other people’s words or actions cause a lot of pain when we think it means something about who we are and don’t keep our own good opinion of ourselves at the forefront. Because the hurt we feel from taking things personally actually comes from believing other people’s negative judgments of us.

    In other words, if we don’t feel great about ourselves, whenever anyone else isn’t caring or kind, we can more easily take it to indicate something bad about ourselves.

    When you can hold the clear knowledge of your own goodness in your awareness, you will have a much easier time separating other people’s confused thoughts from who you really are and letting them roll off you like water off a duck’s back. So make sure your opinion of yourself is a good, healthy one.

    For many HSPs this can be especially hard because we have been misunderstood and perhaps treated like something is wrong with us for much of our lives…which can convince us this is true and lower our self-esteem…which makes it even easier to feel hurt when someone says or does something that could indicate disapproval or lack of care about us.

    But as an HSP, you have so much to feel good about yourself for!

    So it’s well worth your energy to spend time actively seeing what you like and even love about yourself. What do you know about the goodness of who you really are? (Need some hints? This post will help.)

    Deeply knowing your goodness will prevent and ease the pain of taking things personally.

    3. Think about your thinking—both yours and your partner’s.

    Our own thinking is the biggest culprit of taking things personally as HSPs. This is great news because it means we can shift our thinking to minimize the pain of hurt feelings.

    As HSPs, we tend to be so conscientious, attentive, and attuned to those we care about, so we unconsciously expect the same from our partner. If it turns out that they aren’t as attuned and caring naturally, we think it means we aren’t as important to them as they are to us, that we aren’t loved, that we aren’t good enough, that we have done something wrong—or are wrong.

    I can’t tell you how many HSP women I know have told me that when their hubby says, in a tone, something like, “What, you can’t give me five minutes to get to xyz?!!” They think to themselves, “Oh no, I’ve done something wrong. I suck.”

    This is what I call a negative misinterpretation. And our HSP brains naturally do this a lot! This negative interpretation is where the pain of hurt feelings really comes from.

    Let’s get a quick understanding of this: For survival reasons, the human brain is wired by default to see and hear things negatively. We unconsciously focus on flaws, on what’s wrong, or missing. This is called the negativity bias of the brain. And HSPs, we have this even more strongly than non-HSPs.

    You can use this knowledge to help you observe when your brain tends to put a negative spin on things—and decide to stop drinking that Kool-Aid. Just because your brain thinks what it thinks, it doesn’t mean it’s true!!

    Can you see how in the above comment, one could have interpreted it to mean many things other than “I‘ve done something wrong. I suck.”? You could interpret it as “He’s having a hard day,” or “He feels pressured.” Which is way closer to the truth than “I suck.”

    Nowadays, when I’m sharing from my heart to my husband and his eyelids start getting heavy with sleep, I no longer interpret it to mean he doesn’t care about me. I see it for what it is: he’s tired after a full day of working to support our family.

    So, when you feel that familiar sting of hurt feelings, step back and notice what your negatively biased brain is interpreting the thing your partner said or did to mean. And get curious about what else might be going on that is closer to the truth.

    4. See it as their inner disconnection or their confusion about you.

    What if your significant other really does say something harsh about who you are—or does something truly mean or negligent?

    Remember, they have a flaw-seeking brain, too, that also sees in a negative way by default. And just because they may be having a negative thought about you doesn’t make it true!

    What’s really happening is they are having a moment of confusion about you, or they can’t see beyond their flaw-brain at the moment.

    The truth is, when someone sees bad in you, or treats you poorly, it is always a symptom of their own inner turmoil and distress. Unloading on you is just an unskillful way of trying to reduce their own inner turmoil. It means nothing about you.

    As my mom wisely said when I asked her the trick to not taking those dinner table comments personally,  “I remember that it’s just his stuff.”

    If you can remember this truth, you may even feel compassion for your partner instead of hurt—and let me tell you how much better that feels! I’ll take compassion over hurt feelings any day. Because it is from there that we are best able to effectively advocate for and create more caring interactions.

    5. Be your own zone of safety and love.

    As you learn to break the habit of taking things personally, you will want to be able to hold yourself through any hurt feelings that still arise with kindness and love.

    This means, instead of trying to avoid the feelings of hurt, learning to be with them in a loving way.

    When they come up, gently move your attention from the spinning thoughts in your mind to how the hurt actually feels in your body. Be curious about the sensations. And hold them with your gentle and compassionate attention the way you would hold a baby bird in your own soft hand—spaciously, with warmth and tenderness.

    It can help to place your hand over your heart area in a gesture of love and care for yourself, and imagine the sensations in your body are soaking up that kind attention.

    As awkward as it may feel at first, by being with your painful feelings in this way, you will move out of them more quickly, and experience much more peacefulness with them as you do. And even experience more love in your life.

    As I learned to make this kind of space for any hard feelings that come up, the most amazing thing began to happen: The hard feelings became a doorway to feeling a deep warmth and a loving intimacy with my own self, and a sense of inner safety I never before knew was possible.

    Now I no longer fear the harder feelings of life because I trust myself to always lovingly support myself through them. Which has made my relationship with myself so loving and strong—and my relationship with my husband much more peaceful and less reactive.

    6. Re-root in love.

    In our committed intimate relationships, what always soothes and heals is coming back to love. First and foremost, love for yourself, and of course, love for your significant other.

    To do so, simply ask yourself: “What is the most loving way to see this?” Or, “What might love’s wisdom want me to know right now?”

    Perhaps the answer will be a reminder of how amazing you are, or to remember your partner is doing the best they can with the skills and experiences they have had, or that the truth is your love for each other is strong enough to weather these less than harmonious moments. Or maybe the answer will be to set strong boundaries for yourself, or even end the relationship.

    But if you come back to love, these harsher moments will be like a tiny, whitecap in a big sea of love—and have very little power to rock you or the depth of you and your partner’s love for each other.

    —

    Please don’t misunderstand that any of this means you should stay with someone who doesn’t care about you or treats you badly. You want to be able to discern whether you’re tolerating things you shouldn’t be and staying with someone who is not good for you or just taking things personally that you really don’t need to be.

    If you’re doing the latter, you can completely transform your relationship by putting these tips into practice. When you do, you not only remove much of what is dragging you down in your relationship, but you also allow yourself to start seeing and feeling more of the love that is already there, which will invite more of it to keep pouring in.

  • 80% of Arguments Start Because Someone Hasn’t Eaten Yet

    80% of Arguments Start Because Someone Hasn’t Eaten Yet

  • Why It’s Not Your Fault You’re in a Toxic Relationship

    Why It’s Not Your Fault You’re in a Toxic Relationship

    I remember the first time it dawned on me that I was in an unhealthy relationship. Not just one that was difficult and annoying but one that could actually be described as “toxic.”

    It was at a training event for a sexual abuse charity I worked for. I immediately felt like a fraud!

    How could I be working there, helping other women get out of their unhealthy relationships and process their pain and trauma, but not realize how unhealthy my own relationship was?

    How did I not know?

    Typically, as I had always done, I beat myself up over it.

    I should have known, I’m a professional. How could I even call myself that now?’

    Shame.

    It was always there lurking in the background.

    Maybe deep down I had known … consciously, most definitely not.

    And so, while someone talked us through the “cycle of abuse,” I sat there seeing my relationship described to perfection.

    We had a nice time until something felt off. The atmosphere changed, and I could sense the tension building. No matter what I tried, no matter how hard I went into people-pleasing mode, I couldn’t stop it from escalating.

    There was always a huge argument of some sort, and we’d end up talking for hours, going round in circles, never finding any kind of solution.

    Just more distance and disconnection.

    I never felt heard. Just blamed. It didn’t even matter what for. Somehow everything was always my fault. And most of that time, that ‘everything’ was nothing at all. Just made up problems that seemed to serve as an excuse to let off some steam, some difficult feelings.

    We never resolved anything. We just argued for days … and nights. It was exhausting.

    Then came the silence. I knew it well, had experienced it throughout my childhood too.

    “If you don’t give me exactly what I want or say exactly what I need you to say, I’ll take all my ‘love’ away and treat you like you don’t exist or matter to me.”

    Looking back now, that may have been the most honest stage in our relationship because that’s how I felt constantly— insignificant, unloved, and like I didn’t matter.

    But somehow, out of the blue, we made up. We swiped it under the invisible rug that became a breeding ground for chronic disappointment and resentment. It was a very fertile rug.

    I guess it also helped us move into the next stage of the cycle: the calm before the storm … until it all started up again.

    So how come I didn’t realize that I was (and had been!) in an unhealthy relationship?

    Was I stupid? Naive? Uneducated?

    None of those things. I was successful, competent, and a high achiever.

    I was highly educated, had amazing friendships, and made it look like I had the perfect life.

    Because it’s what I wanted to believe. It’s what I needed to believe.

    But most of all, it’s all I knew.

    The relationship I was in was like all the others that had come before.

    I never felt loved or wanted, sometimes not even liked, but that’s just how it was for me. Somehow, my partners would always find something wrong with me.

    My mother too.

    According to them, I was too sensitive, took things too personally, and couldn’t take a joke.

    I said the wrong things, set them off in strange ways, or didn’t really understand them, and was too selfish or stubborn to care deeply enough for them.

    Which is funny because all I did was care.

    I cared too much, did too much, and loved too much, just not myself.

    And so, I stayed. Because it felt normal.

    It’s all I’d ever known.

    I didn’t get hit, well, not in the way that police photos show. And pushing and shoving doesn’t count, right?

    (Neither does that one time I got strangled. My partner at the time was highly stressed at work, and I said the wrong thing, so it definitely didn’t count …).

    Being shouted and sworn at was also not real abuse. It was just “his way.” I knew that and still stayed, so how could I complain?

    See, I paid attention to different signs, the ones portrayed in the media. Not the everyday ones that insidiously feel so very normal when you’ve grown up in a household in which you didn’t matter either.

    The point is that we repeat what we know.

    We accept what feels familiar whether it hurts us or not. It’s like we were trained for this, and now we run the marathon of toxic love every day of our lives completely on autopilot.

    Most of the time we don’t even question it. It just feels so familiar and normal.

    The problem with this is that we stay far too long in situations that hurt us. And so, the first part of leaving is all about educating yourself on what is healthy and what isn’t so that you know.

    Because once you know, you can’t unknow, and you’ll have to start doing something about it.

    And that’s what I did.

    I learned all about unhealthy relationships and how to have healthy ones. This required me to heal my own wounds, let go of beliefs and habits that kept me choosing people that just weren’t good for me, and learn the skills I needed to know to have healthy relationships such as being connected to my feelings, needs, and wants or setting boundaries effectively.

    Relationships are difficult and painful when no one has taught you how to connect in healthy ways that leave you feeling liked, respected, and good about yourself.

    And so, it’s not really our fault when our adult relationships fail or feel like they’re breaking us.

    But we need to put ourselves back in charge and take responsibility for learning how to create the relationships we actually want to be in.

    So let me reassure you and tell you that that is possible.

    I did it, and so I know that you can do it too.

    But it all starts with deciding that you’re done with the painful relationship experiences you are having and that you’re committed to making EPIC LOVE happen.

    A love that leaves you feeling appreciated and satisfied.

    A love that feels safe.

    A love that lets you rise and thrive.

    A love in which you feel better than “good enough.”

    Decide, choose that kind of love and say yes to yourself.

    That’s the first act of real love.

  • You’re Not Supposed to Win Or Lose Arguments

    You’re Not Supposed to Win Or Lose Arguments

  • How to Avoid Petty Fights and Get What You Need in Your Relationship

    How to Avoid Petty Fights and Get What You Need in Your Relationship

    “It’s never overreacting to ask for what you want and need.” ~Amy Poehler

    It was yet another stupid argument that escalated from nothing to a hundred miles an hour in seconds. I’d been there so many times before, entrenched in warfare with us both preparing our defenses and priming our attacks.

    The intense emotions of the moment always took over, denying me the opportunity that hindsight would later afford me. Huge issues were, upon reflection, only minor disagreements about who had said what about the cooking, or where something had been left in the bathroom.

    On this occasion, once again we were both 100% committed to our side of the argument, when I stopped and thought:

    “This is crazy. What am I missing? There must be another way.”

    In that moment I had an insight that revolutionized my relationship and how I relate with my partner. But before I explain, let’s rewind a little.

    In the beginning, our relationship was pretty typical. Things started off great because we were really curious about each other. There wasn’t much judgment, as we always gave each other the benefit of the doubt, and with a lot of goodwill between us, we always knew we had each other’s best interests at heart.

    The adrenaline was pumping and the dopamine flowing, as we were in hormonal ecstasy with the excitement of exploring unchartered territory, something that made us so interesting to each other.

    After the honeymoon period, though, things started to become a bit routine. We started assuming things about each other, thinking we knew the other’s responses and desires because, after all, we’d been together a while now. I would always think, “I know you.” Only I didn’t know her anywhere near as well as I thought I did, and because of that assumption things started to go sour.

    This happened because we were not consciously aware of our own core needs, or each other’s. As a result, we couldn’t meet those needs for ourselves or communicate them in a way that empowered each other to meet them. So instead, we created unconscious strategies to get our needs met, like nagging and manipulation, which led to blurred boundaries and resentments.

    Eventually we became co-dependent, as we felt as if we each needed the other to keep us happy and satisfied. We knew we weren’t getting along as we once did, but we had no idea why. Now I know.

    We all have core needs, and they drive most of our behaviors, whether we realize it or not. By core needs I mean elements like safety, connection, autonomy, peace, meaning, and love.

    When we aren’t consciously aware of our core needs it’s often because we’ve become too distracted by other egoic needs, like the need for success, wealth, control, and dominance. Our core needs then become misunderstood and miscommunicated, which leads to us meeting our partner’s needs under duress or not at all.

    Here’s a simple example from my life to explain.

    Around a year ago my partner and I were having some minor ructions in our relationship. Nothing major, just some low-level tremors. I’m sure you know the type.

    I’d moved into her house a few months earlier, and we were still navigating the “how things are done around here” phase of the relationship, as I saw it. One of the areas of frustration for me was that she was always asking me to do things she could quite easily do herself, like taking out the trash.

    I’d do this, but kept thinking it would be easier if she did it herself whenever she noticed instead of always asking me. It triggered a lot of stuff in me, and I didn’t handle it well. I’d either fly off the handle and lash out, saying something I’d later regret, or I’d repress my emotions and go passive-aggressive, pretending everything was fine as my blood silently boiled.

    On this occasion, though, I stopped and slowed down. I became curious about why this was so important to her, and we had a conversation that changed everything for me.

    For my partner, I wasn’t just taking the trash out. I was meeting her need to feel safe and protected, and ultimately, loved. When she asked me to take out the trash, it wasn’t because she was being lazy. It was because, for one reason or another, this met those needs for her.

    The problem was, she’d never shared that this was about more than taking out the trash, so I interpreted her words through the lens of my life experiences and childhood memories, and it annoyed the hell out of me. But when I learned about the core need I was meeting for her, I totally understood it. Now I love putting the trash out, and I never thought I’d ever say that.

    When we continued to explore this I realized it went beyond the trash. I protect her and make her feel safe in many areas of our lives, which in turn makes her feel loved and cared for. Other things that met the same need for her were:

    • Securing the house before bed
    • Checking the car before long journeys
    • Standing on the outside of the path
    • Looking after our dog

    It’s worth noting here that we must also be able to meet our own needs. This isn’t about solely depending on someone else to make us feel how we want to feel.

    If we put the responsibility of meeting all our needs in someone else’s hands, we’ll never feel whole, strong, independent, or in control of our happiness and contentment. We’ll likely end up using unconscious strategies, like nagging or manipulation, to get our needs met, as my partner and I did. And we’ll also become increasingly needy and controlling.

    The key is to create a balance between honoring own needs and communicating with our partner when there’s a need they can meet, if they’re willing and able.

    We must also be aware that sometimes our needs might clash. For example, you and your partner might both have a need to feel safe and may look to each other to meet that need in the same exact way. In these situations it’s crucial that you become aware of this and discuss it together to find compromises that support you both.

    The important thing is that you understand what’s driving each of you so can set the stage for open communication and loving compromise instead of getting caught up in the same petty arguments over and over again.

    This can be harder than you may think. Oftentimes we don’t realize that our partner’s frustrating, demanding requests are actually badly communicated unmet needs, and we also don’t realize our own motivations.

    How can we dig a little deeper to get to the root of the issues? Here’s a simple exercise I learned from Harville Hendrix to help you and your partner understand, communicate, and meet each other’s needs:

    Step 1: Put aside some time and create a peaceful, intimate space for you and your partner.

    Turn off your cell phones, put the kids to bed, if you have any, and take a moment to create a safe and relaxing space between you both.

    Step 2: Get two pieces of paper so you can each write the answers to these three questions:

    • What do you need from your partner to help you feel loved and cared for that they currently do?
    • What do you need from your partner to help you feel loved and cared for that they’ve stopped doing?
    • What do you need from your partner to help you feel loved and cared for that they’ve never done before?

    Once you have completed writing out your list, highlight the ones that are most important to you.

    Step 3: Now swap your sheet with your partner.

    Take a look at their list and get curious about them. Ask questions to better understand the needs behind each one.

    For example, it may not seem particularly important to you to give each other a play-by-play of your day right after work. But this might meet your partner’s need to feel connected to you and express their emotions.

    Once you peel back the layers, you’ll be better able to create compromises if need be. So if you require space right after work to decompress, you could suggest discussing each other’s day over dinner, instead, so you both get your needs met.

    Step 4: Get clear on what you can and can’t do—and commit.

    Note on each other’s lists which things you are prepared to do for each other and which you are not. Then share this with each other and commit to doing one thing on each other’s list every day for two weeks.

    Step 5: Communicate throughout the process.

    Whenever your partner does one of your requests thank them for it and tell them how you feel as a result. This is important because you will both become more committed to this exercise when you understand the impact you are making for each other.

    —

    I’ve done this exercise with my partner, and it was a simple and moving experience. You will find that your partner’s needs are not always what you think they are, and the simple things that might seem inconsequential to you are the ones that mean the most to them.

  • 3 Ways We Unconsciously Sabotage Our Relationships (And How to Stop)

    3 Ways We Unconsciously Sabotage Our Relationships (And How to Stop)

    Couple in love

    “Love never dies a natural death. It dies because we don’t know how to replenish its source.” ~Anaïs Nin

    As a long-time commitment-phobe, my love life has been somewhat inconsistent, to say the least, but this year it seemed I’d finally met someone I was ready and able to think about building a future with. Still, along with this feeling of hope came some challenges that I had never experienced before in a relationship. (And yes, it did occur to me that maybe these two things went together!)

    I knew I loved my partner, but we often seemed to argue about nothing in particular. This was bewildering to me. I really couldn’t understand what had gone wrong! But, thanks to her patient reflecting to me, I recognized how I was contributing to this pattern, and why I needed to alter my own attitudes and behavior rather than blaming my partner and expecting her to change.

    I began thinking about all this because it was frustrating to get into a shouting match but not be able to remember what had kicked it all off, only to realize, at the end of it, that we could both have used that time in many more enjoyable or productive ways.

    I was sick of feeling stressed about it all, so when the opportunity came up at the local community center, I took a mindfulness class. My expectations weren’t that high, to be honest, but I was ready to try anything!

    One challenging exercise was to take a step back from reacting when things got heated between us so that I could see more clearly what was actually going on, what I was doing to fan the flames, and some ways I could change.

    One bad habit, I discovered, was how I would often interpret what my lover had said to me in the most negative possible way. If she told me I seemed tired, I’d worry she was saying I wasn’t as good in bed; or, if she said I was looking “healthy,” I’d think she meant I was putting on weight.

    I had been too ashamed to actually share these thoughts with her, to see if what I was hearing was what she actually meant. But finally, I couldn’t avoid it any longer. So I plucked up the courage to share these vulnerable feelings, only to discover that I was creating almost all that negativity in my own head.

    I realized that my interpretations stemmed from my own low level of trust and self-confidence; and that I needed a lot more reassurance from my partner than I had been willing to admit.

    I understood how, because of my history, including the strained relationship I’d had with my parents when I was a child, I found it hard to accept love, even from the person I was closest to. This was hurtful and frustrating for her, and it was making me miserable.

    In a strange kind of twist, I was nervous about being happy, even though it was what I wanted, because that meant the risk of being hurt and disappointed, as I’d been in my childhood. The only antidote to these fears seemed to be to learn to love and accept myself for who I was, and not be dependent on getting approval from anyone else.

    My partner has been very supportive with this, and paradoxically, this sense of greater emotional independence has made it possible for me to risk being, and feeling, closer and more loving with her.

    After reflecting more on the roots of conflict in our relationship, I identified our three main types of communication and saw how confusing them could easily create a mismatch between the intention of what we were saying to each other and how the other interpreted it.

    This often led to an argument, which was nothing more than two people with different perspectives each pointlessly trying to convince the other that they were right—a futile pattern that were both keen to avoid.

    You might recognize some, or all, of these; if so, what I learned about how to defuse them might work for you too.

    1. Arguing with emotions.

    These are statements of fact about the experience of the person sharing them—i.e.: “I feel nervous when you drive that fast”—so there’s no point in disagreeing with them.

    My mistake was to respond to this kind of statement as if it were my partner’s opinion, and then disagree with it.

    Or, I’d respond to personal statements, such as “I feel like you don’t listen to me,” or “You don’t prioritize sending time with me” with a rebuttal, such as “What do you mean, of course I do,” or defensiveness, i.e.: “You’re always criticizing me!”

    Denying her reality like this was a sure way of disempowering and upsetting her. Instead, I’m learning to be more tuned in to how she’s feeling, and to respond in ways that validate this and show that it’s important to me.

    So now I might respond with, “I’m sorry you feel that way. Can you explain more?” or “Is there anything that I could do differently to change this?” Then I’ll try to act on any response she has given me.

    This listening and hearing builds a bridge of trust between us, rather than the wall I used to put up, and makes it much easier for us to find compromises and solutions. It changes from being a zero sum conversation to a win- win.

    If you ever deny your partner’s feelings, take a step back before responding and get curious instead of defensive. It’s not easy, but validating each other’s emotions creates an atmosphere of love, care, and understanding.

    2. Stating opinions as facts.

    The trouble was, we both used to express opinions as if they were facts, the underlying assumption being that one of us was right, and therefore, anyone with a different point of view was wrong. Now, I appreciate and accept that my partner and I can have different perspectives on anything, and neither of us is necessarily more right. I can accept and enjoy our differences rather than being threatened by them.

    Formerly, my partner would express opinions like “You’re being selfish,” or even “You work too much!” to me as if they were facts. It was hard for me not to feel judged and criticized.

    If she insisted, this led to angry denials. In a perfect world, she would always recognize that these are opinions. But it’s a fact of life that I can’t control what she does, only how I respond to her. So now I try to understand where she’s coming from and why, rather than just reacting, and if I can’t, I ask for an explanation.

    Try to recognize when you are stating opinions as fact, or trying to make your partner “wrong.” Communication goes a lot more smoothly when neither person feels judged or criticized.

    3. Blaming each other for our own feelings.

    I sometimes blamed my partner for my feelings, saying things like, “You’ve made me angry,” or “You’re so insensitive.” Thanks to her patient refusal to take these kinds of accusations on board, I came to see that these statements revealed more about me than her!

    With a new awareness of how these dynamics operate between us, I’m able to take responsibility for my own negative feelings, which gives me a much better ability to do something about them, if that’s needed or possible. This also allows me to nurture more mutual trust and intimacy with my partner.

    When you’re about to blame your partner for how you feel, step back and ask yourself, “How would I respond if I took responsibility for my feelings instead?” You can still acknowledge how their actions affected you, but you will be doing so from a place of owning your own experience and responses.

    —

    Reflecting honestly on this process has been painful and challenging. If you’re at all like me, you may avoid doing any of this work for that very reason. It’s completely natural; we all instinctively avoid pain. All I can say is that, in my experience, it’s more than worth it.

    By being clearer about what we are trying to communicate, and more conscious about how we share and listen to each other’s feelings, we can avoid the pitfalls of misunderstanding that could sabotage our relationships. And that will leave a lot more time and energy for what we really want to be doing: sharing love and being happy!

  • 4 Simple Sentences That Can Prevent Arguments and Resentment

    4 Simple Sentences That Can Prevent Arguments and Resentment

    Couple with dog

    “There are two sides to every argument, until you take one.” ~Unknown

    The phone rang. My partner and our daughter were away hiking and camping. I’d wanted to go with them, but my partner had discouraged me.

    My partner had a last-minute change of heart, but I’d remained firm. They hadn’t welcomed me, I said, so they could do without me.

    Now, after a day of hiking, our daughter phoned me. They wanted me to join them for dinner and then join them for the second day of the hike.

    How do you deal with feelings of disappointment, frustration, or resentment? How do you deal with differences, apart from arguing or sulking? How do you restore the spirit of love?

    We often feel embarrassed to share our unpleasant feelings. But we all have them. We’re all human.

    So what did I do, and what did I learn to do? It helps to understand why I’d wanted to go, and why I was so upset.

    We’ve traveled to many places as a family. I love the aura of mutual support and love that flourishes during our travels.

    It’s us against the challenges of the world. Each of us gets something done so that all of us can enjoy the trip more.

    For example, when we drove into the center of Melbourne at night, trying to find our hotel, one of our daughters was waiting on the sidewalk to flag us down. When we arrived one night in Matanzas, Cuba, by bus, she surprised us by appearing at the bus stop to take us to a specially prepared dinner.

    Such considerate efforts and little joys tend to nurture the spirit of love. So I look forward to our family adventures, even if it’s only a brief local outing.

    Now I was facing an unexpected situation. I was being discouraged from hiking with them. They said that my leisurely pace would slow them down.

    “Hardly the point,” I said. “It’s a family outing.”

    But they remained keen on walking as quickly as they could. I didn’t really fancy walking on my own.

    I felt rejected, but also angry at being rejected. I hadn’t sulked for some years, but I thought that I was now entitled to a big dose of sulking.

    Eventually, I tried to identify my unpleasant feelings. Finally, I found the exact word I was looking for: “ostracized.” That’s how I felt, I decided.

    People with disfigurements are sometimes ostracized. People with facial burns, or skin diseases, or congenital malformations, all face ostracism.

    I had no disfigurement. I merely tended to walk more slowly than they did. But I felt ostracized by my own partner.

    On the night before they left, I finally blurted it out to my partner: “I felt ostracized by the way you put things.”

    Back came the response, promptly: “I’m sorry for that. That’s not what I intended.”

    A little while later, this was followed by, “Please will you come with us?”

    That illustrates the power of simply stating your feelings. That’s the first lesson I learned.

    Unfortunately, my mind was stubbornly set. “I don’t waste my time where I’m not welcome,” I said. How delicious it is to be stubborn, and how self-defeating!

    They were off before I woke up in the morning. I decided to tackle the many tasks awaiting my attention.

    I embarked on a major project which had long been postponed. It was so absorbing and enjoyable that the hours flew by. Then the evening came, with the surprise phone call from my daughter.

    Would I drive over to join them for dinner? Would I join them for the rest of the hike? “No,” I said.

    But our daughter doesn’t give up easily. She kept talking, telling me about their day, describing where they were going for dinner, and said she’d phone again with directions. A few minutes later, she called again and gave me detailed directions, telling me at what time they expected to arrive at the restaurant.

    “It would be great if you joined us,” she said. The gentle tone of that suggestion lent it power. There was no lecturing, no “you should have,” no “you should,” no judgment.

    She hadn’t been at fault in this whole episode, I thought. So why punish her? I got changed and drove off.

    It turned out to be a charming restaurant, with delicious food. As we chatted, I forgot to stay resentful.

    By the end of the meal, my wish to punish anyone had evaporated. Still, my newly started project at home was far too engrossing. So I decided not to join them for the second day of the hike.

    The next evening, they returned, exhausted and sore from the very long hike. I was almost grateful to have been spared the blisters. I cooked them a nice dinner, to help build on the aura of collaboration and closeness.

    This episode reminded me of four powerful sentences that I’d once been advised to use. These sentences can help transform any argument into a conversation and collaboration. From now on, I hope I remember to use them in difficult situations.

    Here they are:

    1. “There’s some truth in what you’re saying.”
    2. “I feel [like this] when you [say or do] that.”
    3. “It seems as if you’re upset; tell me more about how you feel.”
    4. “It would be good if [this happened].”

    When expectations differ, these sentences enable mutual respect, kindness, and win-win solutions.

    You can insert your own appropriate words or phrases into the brackets.

    For example, here’s what I might have said to my partner:

    “There’s some truth in what you’re saying. I do tend to walk more slowly than you.”

    “But I feel ostracized when you say you want to go without me.”

    If my partner had seemed upset, I’d say: “It seems as if you’re upset. Tell me more about how you feel.”

    If I had a suggestion I’d say: “It would be good if we went together and did one day at my pace, then one day at yours.”

    These four sentences, appropriately modified, can be used by anyone. They can be used at home, at work, or in any difficult situation. They can be used together, or separately, as the situation requires.

    Unhelpful feelings often lead to self-defeating arguments or brooding resentment. Before a situation deteriorates, try using your own version of these four sentences. Use them and be prepared for argument and resentment to turn into collaborative problem-solving.

    Don’t omit listening to the other person. Also, be prepared graciously to accept good suggestions they may make.

    These sentences are simple, but powerful. They help solve problems while restoring the spirit of love. And love heals.

  • A Simple Phrase That Can Prevent Arguments and Resentment

    A Simple Phrase That Can Prevent Arguments and Resentment

    Communication

    “It’s not the events of our lives that shape us, but our beliefs as to what those events mean.” ~Tony Robbins

    I am always making up stories about what others think of me or what they really meant when they made that comment. And I typically make up the worst case scenario. According to my brain, everyone is mean-spirited and ridiculing me.

    This is not an uplifting way to live one’s life. The pessimistic stories I create are generated in part by my low self-esteem, and by convincing myself they’re true, I continue to fuel it. My constantly negative perceptions affect my relationships with others and overall mood in a harmful way.

    I recently experienced a huge breakthrough in regard to this aspect of my thought processes. I am a huge fan of Dr. Brené Brown’s work and recently read her newest book Rising Strong. One of my biggest takeaways was this one phrase that will improve your relationships: “The story I’m making up…”

    Why We Make Up Stories

    As humans, our brains make up stories. We automatically search for meaning. If there is a lack of information, then we will try to fill in that gap.

    Studies have shown that we like stories to make sense or fulfill a pattern, and we will use our own experiences as reference for this.

    Brown actually says that research shows we get a dopamine hit when we recognize a pattern. Our brains especially like it if the story can give us more insight into how to protect ourselves and secure our survival.

    This is why we make up stories to explain why bad things happen. If we know the cause, next time we can plan accordingly to avoid the situation altogether. Unfortunately, even though we honestly believe them to be true, the stories we make up are usually at least somewhat inaccurate.

    This is where the phrase, “The story I’m making up…” works to clear things up in our interactions with others.

    How to Use It

    “The story I’m making up…” can be used in times of struggle or conflict with another person. Perhaps a co-worker quickly changed the subject after you expressed a concern about a project. You can use this phrase to say, “The story I’m making up is that I’m being dismissed because my opinion is not valued.”

    Or maybe your significant other flipped on the television when it’s supposed to be date night. You can say, “The story I’m making up is that our relationship is not a priority to you.” It is an effective tool that can be used in family, friend, work, and romantic relationships.

    Recently my husband and I were arguing. He shared his feelings with me, which is often challenging for him. Because I know he really appreciates physical affection (and I struggle to give it), I chose to pull him into a hug instead of responding verbally.

    The hug did not feel reciprocal as his arms were loosely around me. I was vulnerable when I offered physical affection, and his lackluster embrace registered as a cold shoulder to me. I was feeling very hurt as I told him, “The story I’m making up is that this lifeless hug is an expression of rejection.”

    He apologized and explained that he did not intend to reject me; he was just feeling thrown off by my lack of spoken response.

    His mind was whirling trying to figure out a sense-making story as well. “The story I’m making up…” created a space for us to share our intentions and feelings and work through the misunderstandings in a calm and safe environment.

    Why Use It

    The beauty of this phrase is that it provides the setting to speak openly without initiating a defensive reaction from whomever you’re speaking with. It allows you to honestly express your experience while still taking responsibility for your own feelings. This is a disarming method of communication that leads to a more productive dialogue.

    “The story I’m making up…” becomes an opportunity to revisit a confusing or troubling situation. From there you can challenge your perceptions and reality-check them against the viewpoint of the other person. It provides space for the other person to clarify their intentions.

    The majority of the time this phrase stops an argument before it can even start for me and my husband. When one of us is feeling confused, hurt, or misunderstood, we tell the other what story we’re making up.

    Oftentimes the other person clears up the issue without any conflict because typically our intentions with one another are good.

    Miscommunication and negative assumption are the causes of so much unintentional and unnecessary conflict in relationships. Instead of getting into a fight or silently resenting the other person, using the phrase, “The story I’m making up…” establishes a safe place for meaningful dialogue to gain better understanding of the situation and one another.

    You may realize there actually is no issue, or if there is, you can continue to work through it together in a respectful and effective manner.

    Communication image via Shutterstock