Tiny Buddha

Tag: bully

  • Standing Up for Yourself Doesn’t Make You Any Less Kind

    Standing Up for Yourself Doesn’t Make You Any Less Kind

    “Being a good person doesn’t mean being a doormat… You can be kind, giving, and full of love, but that doesn’t mean you have to accept disrespect or allow your boundaries to be crossed.” ~Unknown

    I can still vividly remember sitting in my seventh-grade classroom, forcing a laugh as my classmates made jokes at my expense. My cheeks would burn red, but I’d smile along, desperately wanting to belong. For years, I mistook my silence for kindness, my nervous laughter for good nature. I didn’t realize that by laughing at myself, I was slowly chipping away at my own self-worth.

    Growing up, I was the “nice kid”—the one who never caused trouble, never talked back, and always tried to keep the peace. When someone would make a cutting remark about my appearance or mock the way I spoke, I’d respond with a practiced smile and a halfhearted chuckle. I thought this made me mature, diplomatic even. “Just brush it off,” my mother would say. “They’re only joking.” But deep inside, each laugh felt like a small betrayal of myself.

    The pattern continued well into my teenage years. In every social circle, I became the designated “good sport”—the one who could take any joke, no matter how sharp its edges. I wore this label like a badge of honor, never realizing it was actually a shield I was hiding behind. My inability to stand up for myself wasn’t kindness; it was fear dressed up as politeness.

    The turning point came during my first year of college. During a group project, a teammate made a particularly cruel joke about my work ethic. As usual, I started to laugh, but something inside me snapped.

    Years of suppressed feelings bubbled to the surface, and for the first time, I heard how hollow my laughter sounded. In that moment, I realized I wasn’t being nice—I was being complicit in my own diminishment.

    This revelation led me down a path of self-discovery and personal growth. Through therapy, self-help books, and countless conversations with trusted friends, I began to understand the difference between being kind and being a doormat. I learned that standing up for yourself doesn’t make you mean or confrontational—it makes you self-respecting.

    Here are the vital lessons I learned along my journey:

    The first step was the hardest: acknowledging that my laughter was a defense mechanism, not a sign of resilience. I had to accept that it’s okay to not find hurtful comments funny. Real strength isn’t in laughing off insults; it’s in acknowledging when something hurts and addressing it directly.

    I started practicing simple phrases in front of the mirror: “I don’t find that funny,” “That comment was inappropriate,” or simply, “Please don’t speak to me that way.” At first, these words felt foreign on my tongue, but gradually, they became part of my vocabulary. I learned that confrontation doesn’t have to be aggressive—it can be calm, dignified, and firm.

    The most surprising discovery was how many people respected me more when I started setting boundaries. Those who truly cared about me adjusted their behavior. Those who didn’t, well, they showed their true colors, and I learned that not every relationship needs to be preserved at the cost of your self-respect.

    Today, I still consider myself a kind person, but my kindness no longer comes at the expense of my dignity. I’ve learned that true niceness isn’t about accepting poor treatment; it’s about treating others—and yourself—with respect.

    When someone makes a hurtful comment now, I no longer reach for laughter as a shield. Instead, I stand tall in my truth and speak up with compassion and clarity.

    To those who recognize themselves in my story—those who laugh when they want to cry, who smile when they want to scream—I want you to know that your feelings matter. Your discomfort is valid. Your voice deserves to be heard. Being nice doesn’t mean being silent, and standing up for yourself doesn’t make you any less kind.

    The journey from forced laughter to authentic self-expression isn’t easy. It’s filled with uncomfortable moments and challenging conversations. But with each small act of standing up for yourself, you rebuild your self-worth piece by piece. You learn that the strongest form of kindness is the kind you show yourself.

    Remember: You can be both nice and strong, both kind and assertive. The real magic happens when you find that balance—when you can face the world with a genuine smile, knowing you’ll never again laugh at the expense of your own dignity.

  • Silent Storms: How Mindfulness Helped Me Reclaim My Self-Worth

    Silent Storms: How Mindfulness Helped Me Reclaim My Self-Worth

    “You can’t stop the waves, but you can learn to surf.” ~Jon Kabat-Zinn

    We often hear about storms as powerful forces of nature, but for many of us, the most intense storms are the silent ones—those we battle internally. For me, this storm took the shape of bullying. While I appeared to handle the daily microaggressions and malicious rumors, inside, I was crumbling.

    The bullying didn’t stop in high school; it followed me into adulthood. Every time I thought I had weathered the storm, another wave of hurtful comments would crash over me, leaving me feeling trapped and powerless.

    The constant gossip, whispers, and passive-aggressive remarks from others chipped away at my self-worth. I questioned my value, wondering if I deserved the treatment. Was there something inherently wrong with me? Why was I the target of this relentless negativity? These thoughts haunted me for years, leading to a vicious cycle of self-doubt, anxiety, and fear of being judged.

    At one point, the weight of all these feelings became too much to bear, and I sought counseling. It was in therapy that I first learned about mindfulness, a practice that would transform my life.

    Mindfulness helped me confront the storm I had been carrying inside for years—the shame, hurt, and loss of self-worth brought on by years of bullying and mistreatment. Here’s how this practice helped me heal and reclaim my self-worth, and how you, too, can apply it to your life if you’ve experienced bullying, mistreatment, or any form of emotional harm.

    How Bullying and Mistreatment Lead to Low Self-Worth

    Bullying and mistreatment don’t just hurt in the moment—they can have a lasting effect on how we see ourselves for years.

    Whether it’s gossip, exclusion, or direct harassment, these experiences erode our self-worth. We begin to question our value, internalizing the cruel words and actions of others. Over time, we might start to believe that we deserve the mistreatment, or that there’s something wrong with us.

    This low self-worth can affect every aspect of our lives, from our relationships to our careers. We might shy away from opportunities, convinced that we’re not good enough. We might struggle to form meaningful connections, believing that we’re unlovable. The effects of mistreatment run deep, but they don’t have to define us.

    Mindfulness, self-compassion, and community support can help us rebuild our sense of self. By acknowledging our pain, letting go of what we can’t control, and surrounding ourselves with people who lift us up, we can reclaim our self-worth and begin to see ourselves as deserving of love, respect, and kindness.

    Acknowledge Your Pain and Validate Your Emotions

    For years, I hid behind a mask of indifference. I convinced myself that the bullying didn’t affect me. I didn’t want to give my bullies the satisfaction of knowing they had hurt me. But in reality, each cruel word, each whisper, left a mark on my self-worth. The more I bottled up my emotions, the more they festered, eroding my sense of self.

    The first step in my healing journey was acknowledging the pain and allowing myself to feel it. Through mindfulness, I learned that running from my emotions only gave them more power over me. Instead, I had to sit with them—feel the sadness, frustration, anger, and betrayal. I had to give myself permission to grieve the parts of myself I had lost to bullying. Only then could I begin to heal.

    Tip: If you’re struggling with emotions from past mistreatment, take a moment each day to ask yourself, “What am I feeling right now?” Don’t judge yourself for feeling anger, sadness, or resentment—acknowledge these emotions and sit with them. By allowing yourself to feel, you can begin the process of healing.

    Use Mindful Breathing to Regain Control

    There were countless moments where the weight of gossip and harsh comments felt suffocating. I often felt powerless, lost in a spiral of negative thoughts. Every time I walked into a room, I felt like everyone was judging me, like they had already formed opinions about me based on lies. I didn’t know how to cope with the overwhelming feelings of shame and fear.

    Mindful breathing became my anchor—a simple yet profound technique that helped me center myself in these overwhelming situations. Instead of allowing my mind to spiral, I learned to focus on my breath. It was the one thing I could control, even when I couldn’t control the rumors or the people spreading them. In those moments, mindfulness gave me back a sense of power and control over my emotional state.

    Tip: The next time anxiety or fear begins to take hold, focus on your breath. Inhale deeply, paying attention to the air entering and leaving your body. This simple practice can bring you back to the present moment, offering a sense of calm and control when you need it most.

    Build Self-Compassion to Heal the Hurt

    For a long time, I let the words of others dictate how I saw myself. I internalized the bullying, believing that if so many people thought poorly of me, it must be true. I criticized myself relentlessly, convinced that I was not good enough, smart enough, or likable enough. The words of others had become the lens through which I viewed myself.

    Mindfulness taught me the importance of self-compassion. I realized that I was treating myself far worse than I would treat a friend in need. Through this practice, I learned to be kinder to myself—to approach myself with the same care and empathy I would offer someone else who was struggling. Slowly, I began to rebuild my self-worth, not based on what others thought of me but on how I chose to treat myself.

    Tip: Each day, write down three things you appreciate about yourself. Whether it’s a strength, a skill, or even just how you made it through a tough moment, these small affirmations can help rebuild your confidence. Self-compassion is a powerful defense against negativity, reminding you that you are deserving of kindness—especially from yourself.

    Practice Letting Go of What You Can’t Control

    One of the hardest lessons I had to learn was that I couldn’t control how others perceived me. I spent years trying to defend myself against rumors, trying to correct false assumptions people had about me. The more I tried to control the narrative, the more exhausted and frustrated I became. I realized that no matter what I did, some people would always see me in a negative light—and that wasn’t my responsibility to fix.

    Mindfulness taught me that while I couldn’t control the rumors, I could control my response to them. I learned to let go of the need to be liked or understood by everyone. Instead, I focused on how I saw myself and how I wanted to show up in the world. Letting go of what I couldn’t control was liberating—it allowed me to focus on what truly mattered: my own peace of mind and self-worth.

    Tip: Visualize the hurtful words—or, in my case, the hurtful people—as leaves gently floating down a stream. Observe them as they pass by, acknowledge their presence, but resist the urge to hold onto them. This practice allows you to create emotional space and frees you from being weighed down by things beyond your control.

    Find Strength in Community

    Healing doesn’t happen in isolation. While mindfulness was essential in my recovery, finding support from others played a significant role too. For years, I had isolated myself, afraid that opening up would make me vulnerable to more judgment. But through counseling and support groups, I realized that sharing my experiences with others who understood helped lift the weight I had been carrying.

    Opening up to trusted friends, seeking professional help, and connecting with a community of people who understood what I was going through helped me regain my voice. It allowed me to shift the narrative that had been imposed on me, to reclaim my story, and to see myself not as a victim of bullying but as someone who had the strength to heal.

    Tip: Don’t hesitate to seek help from others, whether through counseling, support groups, or mindfulness communities. Finding a group where people understand what you’re going through can provide both personal growth and emotional support, reminding you that you’re not alone.

    Mindfulness Is a Lifelong Practice

    Healing from mistreatment and reclaiming your self-worth is not an overnight process—it takes time. For me, mindfulness became the foundation of my recovery, and it’s something I continue to practice daily. By integrating mindfulness into my routine, I learned to navigate emotional challenges with grace and resilience.

    Tip: Start small. Whether it’s taking a few moments of mindful breathing or journaling your emotions, every step helps you regain control. Remember, you are stronger than the words that hurt you. With mindfulness, self-compassion, and a supportive community, you can reclaim your self-worth—one step at a time.

  • How Childhood Bullying Influenced How I Treat Others as an Adult

    How Childhood Bullying Influenced How I Treat Others as an Adult

    “For me, that strong back is grounded confidence and boundaries. The soft front is staying vulnerable and curious. The mark of a wild heart is living out these paradoxes in our lives and not giving into the either/or BS that reduces us. It’s showing up in our vulnerability and our courage, and, above all else, being both fierce and kind.” ~Brené Brown

    Many people have experienced bullying in their lives and have possibly been a bully by association without realizing it at the time.

    While the type of bullying may differ, the emotions are often the same. Bullying is never okay, and the layered pain that bullies usually possess drives how they treat others.

    For me anxiety, shame, and a lack of understanding has always been present. On a regular basis, I experience pings of past bullying in my head reminiscent of the notifications that pop up on my phone.

    When I reflect on my teen years, it’s the cringe-worthy moments that are the headliners. These negative experiences can stick to you like glue throughout your life.

    Like every teenager, I wanted to fit in, and I wanted to feel like I belonged. Unfortunately, I never belonged where I wanted to the most.

    Much of the time I felt or knew I didn’t belong, or the belonging was fake, but I didn’t want to acknowledge it. To make it just a little more complicated, I am a highly sensitive person (HSP), and at that age I didn’t understand how that impacted how I made friends and how I was treated by others.

    Most of the bullying I experienced as a teen was emotional, and for a period it was physical. Standing up for myself wasn’t really in the cards as far as solutions went. I was an athlete and I lived for the sports I played. But you don’t get to choose your team, and that proved to be a dangerous reality for me.

    My teammates did and said hurtful things. I’m not sure if they knew it or not, but I could hear them sometimes at practices. To this day I’m not sure if they knew that I knew; I waited on many days until I got home to fall apart. While the emotional toll has been tough, my worst memories pertain to physical bullying.

    Without going into too much detail, I was targeted by teammates I thought were my friends. They picked a part of my body and thought it was funny to hit, slap, and punch me. I didn’t know what to do or how to stop it, but I didn’t stand up for myself or tell anyone that could help me either.

    While the physical contact hurt, gave me headaches, and caused me to throw up, the most harmful part was that their game taught me that something was wrong with my body.

    By eleventh grade, I’d developed body dysmorphia disorder, and I hid my body as much as possible. To this day sometimes my skin still burns if I feel like I’m showing too much of my body. The shame screams at me inside my head, so I cover as much skin as I can.

    Earlier I wrote that it is possible to be a bully by association. Growing up, I hated when my mom said “guilt by association.” I loathe the feeling of those words ringing in my ears to this day. I didn’t stand up for myself, and I certainly didn’t have the strength or understanding that I could walk away instead of worrying about fitting in.

    I can think of countless times when people who bullied me then targeted others. There were times that I didn’t say a word, times I agreed, and times I maybe laughed. I knew it was wrong. I was stuck between wanting to be accepted, not wanting to be targeted, and trying not to draw attention to myself.

    I was like that in my youth, and I would get sick to my stomach about it all the time. I knew it was wrong but lacked the ability to do the right thing because of the emotional weakness that controlled me.

    Knowing that I can’t go back to change those actions has made me passionate about standing up for what I believe is right as an adult. Because when you stand by, injustice just continues in a loop and things don’t change. 

    I don’t know if I could have changed things back then. I don’t know if simply walking away could have helped. But I know the pain from bullying may last well into adulthood and can potentially affect someone for life.

    As someone who was bullied for a lot of my youth, it took me a long time to forgive myself for bullying by association. I was guilty of harming others even if I didn’t mean to.

    Now, as an adult, I am more mindful of how I want to treat others. I have developed skills, become stronger, and worked extremely hard to hold my head high (which will always be a work in progress).

    At the core, I believe that people are trying their best and do not set out to harm others. While I make mistakes and sometimes need to analyze my own behavior, I live my life with a high level of intention. I use kindness to help others, but also to heal from the harmful experiences in my past.

    After developing a list of practices that reflect how I want to treat people, I now intentionally use my past experiences to do the following…

    1. I pause to cultivate meaningful interactions and relationships. An inner mantra is “people first.” I want to make others feel like they matter and are seen.

    2. I learn about the people around me, and I show my gratitude with acts of kindness.

    3. I’m honest about my past experiences and struggles to help others feel validated.

    4. I openly reflect with others about behaviors, actions, and mistakes that I’ve made that have harmed others. I also share how I work to do better when I make mistakes.

    5. I encourage others to give me feedback and let me know if something I’m doing is hurtful or not helpful.

    6. I practice patience and kindness in the moments when I feel annoyed, angry, or sad.

    7. I speak up if I don’t agree with how someone or a group is being treated.

    8. I exit toxic relationships faster than I used to, realizing that toxic relationships do not just harm me but those around me too.

    9. I take stock of my actions and words on a regular basis to reflect on areas I can improve or how I can be kinder.

    10. I no longer allow being an HSP to shame me into not being my authentic self. I work to use sensitivity as a tool to help myself and others to truly show empathy.

    I know my actions may have harmed others in the past, and I will never arrive at a point where I am magically healed from the ways others hurt me. But I believe in the power of kindness and vulnerability. An important moment in my life was when I decided that I would no longer let my past dictate how I live my life. I decided not to hide who I was anymore. And when I leaned into the discomfort of the painful experiences, I started to grow.

  • 5 Ways to Heal from a Highly Critical, Controlling Parent

    5 Ways to Heal from a Highly Critical, Controlling Parent

    “You’ve been criticizing yourself for years and it hasn’t worked. Try approving of yourself and see what happens.” ~Louise Hay

    When I was growing up, it felt like nothing was good enough for my dad. And all I longed for was his acceptance and love.

    He had this temper that would blow up, and he’d blame me for how he felt. He would outright tell me his behavior was my fault. That if I’d behaved better, he wouldn’t have had an outburst.

    When he told me I wasn’t enough or worthy, I believed him. I was constantly walking on eggshells around him, trying to not annoy him, as his angry words would really hurt.

    The confusing thing about my dad was that he wasn’t like this all the time. Sometimes he was loving, affectionate, and warm, and then in a moment he would switch to cold, controlling, and cruel.

    As a child, I believed to my core that I was the problem. The only way I thought I could keep myself safe was to try and please him and be the perfect daughter.

    I became obsessed with achievement. It started first with my grades and school, and then it was getting the job he wanted me to have. Because sometimes an achievement would get me a crumb of love from him. I would push myself as a child, forsaking rest and hydration at times, so he would see how hard I’d worked.

    But it was never enough for him. He would lose his temper on the one day that I was taking a break, telling me that I would never amount to anything.

    He would even tell other people how awful his family was when he was drunk. It was beyond humiliating.

    Now, at forty-one, these memories with my dad are in the past, but they still haunt me. He has since passed—he took his life fifteen years ago. Turns out my dad wasn’t okay and was struggling with the impact of his own childhood trauma.

    But rather than seeking help, he took it out on his family and himself through addiction and, ultimately, his suicide.

    His controlling, critical voice still lives in my subconscious mind. It’s his voice that tells me to work harder or that I am not good enough, or questions, “Who do you think you are?”

    Even though I consciously know now, as a trauma transformation coach, that his behavior was due to his pain and his words were not the truth, the younger parts of me still believe him. Because those younger parts still feel blamed, shamed, and not enough.

    After his passing, I found myself in relationships where others would criticize, control, and deny my reality, and found myself powerless again, just as I’d felt as a little girl.

    But by investing in various safe spaces, like support groups, therapy, and coaching, I have been able to step away from these relationships or maintain boundaries so that my younger self is no longer triggered by the pain of the past. This has created space for kinder, more loving relationships to come in.

    However, more recently I noticed that even though I’d stepped away from toxic relationships, I had become him to myself. I would speak to myself critically and put myself down. Nothing was good enough, and I would push myself to achieve at any cost, going through cycles of overworking and burnout.

    I would push myself to have the ‘perfect body’ with extreme exercise and diet. But then my inner rebel would push back and sabotage the diet and my health through emotional eating.

    Constantly pushing myself to be better, I realized, unconsciously, I was still chasing his love. His acceptance even though he wasn’t here.

    I had become the controlling critical parent to myself. It was time for me to become the parent I’d longed for and not the parent I’d had.

    Here are the five practices that are helping me to heal from my controlling, critical parent—practices that could help you too.

    1. I ask myself: Am I being kind to myself?

    I have created a pattern interrupter by asking myself, at least three times a day, if I am being kind to myself and, if not, how I can be. I notice my behaviors and inner dialogue and explore how I can shift into kindness.

    For example, if I don’t sleep well, is it kind to push myself with a cardio workout and long day of work, or would it be better to go for a walk in nature and take a slower pace?

    Or, if I am speaking to myself without self-compassion, is there a more loving way to communicate with myself rather than being nasty?

    Each day I make a conscious choice to step into that kind energy. I treat myself how I wish he had treated me.

    2. I celebrate myself weekly.

    Each Sunday, I reflect on what I am proud of and celebrate myself, even if I’ve done something small, like being consistently kind to myself. I become the cheerleading parent I longed for, and this builds self-esteem.

    3. I use affirmations.

    I affirm throughout the day that I am safe and enough. That I don’t have to prove my worth or people-please. I can just be me. This helps soothe the critical voice that goes into past fear stories.

    I use affirmations to say I love and care for myself. That I am my biggest priority.

    4. I listen to my body and choose to take care of it.

    Instead of pushing myself physically, I ask myself: How should I nourish myself? Or how should I move my body? What shouldn’t I put into it out of love? I check in with myself if I need rest or if a certain relationship or situation is causing me physical and mental stress. I speak kindly about my body rather than shaming it for not being enough.

    5. I reparent the parts of me that are in pain from the past.

    My dad will always be part of my story. I can’t change the past, but I can take care of the different parts of me that were hurt. I can show those parts kindness and love through reparenting and inner-child work.

    My favorite practice is going back in time to visit my younger self. I give her a hug, ask her how she feels, and then do whatever I can to fulfill her needs. I soothe the hurting parts of her rather than getting her to perform and achieve.

    Some days my old behaviors come out, but I use the question “Am I being kind to myself?” to get myself back on track. I also practice self-compassion and forgiveness, as I would never say the things I have said to myself to others.

    —

    If you can relate to what I wrote because you had a similar parent, step into being the parent you wished for yourself. Because a happy, loved, affirmed child is better able to live a happy, healthy life than a bullied child that hates herself. Give yourself the gift of love and kindness and watch your story transform.

  • Why Other People’s Comments Hurt Us and How to Let Them Go

    Why Other People’s Comments Hurt Us and How to Let Them Go

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

    Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me.

    Wow. That one takes me waaay back. All the way to the elementary school playground. A place where I attempted to use it as a shield. As juvenile as this saying is, I would search for comfort in its words for years to come.

    In the end, it doesn’t matter how old we get. It’s good to feel a part of something, to be understood, and to be accepted, and it hurts when we feel we’re not good enough to belong.

    Whether it’s due to the words of a schoolyard bully (with a flat-chested joke), a passing remark from a stranger (“your arms are hairy”), or an observation by a loved one (“you’re too shy), we begin to transform into a guarded version of ourselves.

    Daily interactions with others thicken our skin a bit, allowing some words to roll off our backs. But the ones that stick around change our inner landscape.

    For many of us, the physical pain we suffer come from accidents, adventures, or clumsiness. They are unpredictable events that originate from nowhere in particular. They don’t feel personal.

    Words, on the other hand, always stem from people. And they almost always feel personal. For a species that thrives on connection, acceptance, and love, words are a primary source of information about where we stand within our tribe.

    With words, we define ourselves, find our people, and take a stand. Words reinforce who we are. Words inspire. Words make us giants. With words, we feel pain, loneliness, or betrayal. Words cut us down. Words keep us small. Words plant seeds of doubt. Words deflate.

    Words are powerful. Choose them wisely.

    When it comes to delivering a message, how we say things matters.

    Words can be positive, negative, or neutral. Imagine how using the very same word creates different outcomes.

    “Quiet!”

    Spoken at a surprise birthday party, this gets everyone excited. The guest of honor is coming!

    Spoken to a questioning child, this makes her feel small, unimportant, hurt.

    Even an adult can suffer at this word. Imagine a man watching a football game. His wife runs in to share an exciting piece of news. He shouts “quiet,” and just like that she feels diminished and robbed of joy.

    Words are powerful. But is all the power reserved for the speaker?

    When it comes to receiving a message, we can feel powerless. Just as a spider’s web catches much more than dinner, our minds become cluttered with a lot of word debris. I have spent years unpacking my pain and my past, and the ickier parts are born from comments, passing phrases, and direct attacks.

    So, here’s my question: Why do some things go in one ear and out the other, while others have a way of following us around? Why do some words so profoundly affect us that we give up our joy and opt not to dance, sing, or speak?

    Here’s my revelation. Those who know me have heard me say it before: What we believe matters.

    It seems that words can become seeds planted in my brain. The ones that stick around begin to grow into something messy that tangle with my very being.

    After a lot (and I mean a lot) of soul searching, I have found my common denominator—two actually. My hurt is born from the truth or from my fear of what might be the truth. The pain is my feelings of lack that get amplified.

    Whew. That’s a bitter pill to swallow. None of us want to believe that we think we’re not smart, beautiful, fun, cool, lovable, or funny. But I’ll say it again. Almost all the remarks that have hurt me are ones I thought were true. Or ones I feared might be true. That’s it.

    When our truth is revealed or challenged it is painful. Our truth is often a part of us that we cannot or feel we cannot change. Whether it’s our laugh, our bodies, or our dreams, we are exposed.

    What do we do with this? The only thing we can—accept ourselves. Just. The. Way. We. Are.

    This doesn’t mean we cannot continue to grow and evolve as humans. It means that we are always being and becoming.

    Most of us go out into the world as ourselves and slowly withdraw into our shells as we feel less and less safe to be who we are. We become a watered-down version of our colorful selves to avoid vulnerability.

    But I’m here to challenge the idea that vulnerability has to be painful. Uncomfortable, yes, but maybe not painful. Our best defense is knowing and embracing who we really are so that when someone questions our character or motive it is either true or not true—and if it is true, being okay with that.

    If I find myself ruminating on a comment, it’s an opportunity, a chance for me to know myself better.

    Now, when a word stings, I approach the discomfort differently. I ask myself: Why am I hurt? Is this true? Is this something I can change? Do I want it to be true? If it is me, can I do more than accept it—can I love this part of me?

    I used to think my problem was that I wasn’t enough ‘this’ or needed to be more of ‘that.’ I used to think that if I could just take the best parts of other people and become those things, I would feel secure, confident, and untouchable.

    But it was exhausting, and I would inevitably fall short of my goal. My life was like a house of cards, ready to crash at any moment. Living in fear is draining. I also began to feel like I couldn’t make any forward progress. It was like treading water when I could be swimming.

    It wasn’t until I took a break and developed faith in myself that I found my full energy, optimism, and confidence return. Because in the end, we can never be great at being anything but ourselves. There is no trying anymore, only being. And the knowing that I don’t need to be all things. Just myself. Regardless of what other people have to say about that.

    And you know what? The strangest things have begun to happen. I have found new strengths, new joys, and new opportunities. When I let go of mimicking others’ successes, I have found more of my own. The kind that I’m not afraid to lose. The kind that doesn’t make me feel like a fraud.

    Sharing my voice has gone from scary and nerve-wracking to a way to create connection and joy. The transition feels like nothing short of miraculous. If you would’ve told me all this several years ago, I would never have believed that I could achieve this kind of peace and confidence. But I have come to believe in believing. And I highly recommend it.

  • Hurt by Negative People? How to Stop Taking Things Personally

    Hurt by Negative People? How to Stop Taking Things Personally

    “Some people are in such utter darkness that they will burn you just to see a light. Try not to take it personally.” ~Kamand Kojouri

    The saying goes that money makes the world go round, but of course that’s not true.

    It’s our relationships.

    How we relate to other people and how they relate to us keeps our world turning. When things go well, all’s right with our world. When things go badly, it can feel as though our world has ground to a halt.

    This is exactly how I felt whenever I had a difficult experience with a loved one or friend.

    Whenever they lashed out at me for no real reason, it felt as if I couldn’t move on again until their negativity or bad temper had blown over. Until that happened, I replayed the scenarios in my mind, trying to work out where I was to blame for their behavior, and feeling awful in the meantime.

    That’s why our relationships will always be the most important thing in our lives—they have such a strong impact on us, both good and bad.

    That is also why it serves us well to try to have the best possible relationship with others, as well as ourselves. That includes improving the connections we have with the difficult and less-than-positive people in our lives and strengthening our boundaries in the process.

    We probably all have several negative people in our lives—those who criticize, complain, belittle us and other people, and say or do cruel things. They can be the closest to us, people we have known all our lives, and that makes their negativity harder to escape and endure.

    I had a family member who was very negative about pretty much everything. Spending time in their company was usually a draining and disheartening experience due to their complaining and sniping comments.

    This person made it very clear whenever I met them that they had little time or affection for me, which of course made family get-togethers less than enjoyable.

    I was also puzzled as to why they were like that: we’d never argued, and I had never, to my knowledge, done or said anything mean to them. Yet, they still acted in a negative way toward me, especially if I mentioned affirmative life experiences such as a great holiday or a new exciting project.

    Unsurprisingly, I responded to their negativity with a sense of apprehension, frustration, and confusion, which stopped me from enjoying the company of my other relatives. It also made me wary about fully expressing myself or talking about my life. And my uneasiness undoubtedly made the atmosphere between my family member and me even more negative.

    We all Have Emotional Scars from the Past

    I eventually recognized that I was hurt by my relative’s treatment in large part because I took it personally and allowed it to affect my self-image and self-esteem—as if I somehow deserved it. Then I realized something that changed everything for me.

    We all have a self-image shaped in large part by other people. Family, friends, and partners, who’ve likely scarred us through anger, resentment, jealousy, judgment, neglect, or even outright abuse. And this affects how we show up in the world.

    Everyone, including the people who have wronged you or been negative toward you in some way, has scars from their past too.

    Maybe your critical mother doesn’t know any better because her mother was critical. Maybe your absent father never knew his father either. Maybe your backstabbing friend was jealous of you for reasons only known to them. Perhaps your cheating partner had abusive parents, and your partner sabotages relationships because they don’t believe anyone can love them.

    Each and every one of us carries around our scars, going out into the world to meet other people who have scars, and when we connect, these combined scars can sometimes tear open.

    We all See Ourselves Through Others’ Eyes

    We all tend to see ourselves through our loved ones’ eyes—starting with our parents when we’re young—because we assume their perceptions of us are accurate and blame ourselves if they’re not flattering. Our self-image can alter based on their comments, emotions, and actions—positive and negative.

    This is a classic case of our relationships shaping our sense of self, an ongoing shaping that begins even before we can fully understand the meanings of what other people say or do to us.

    We are each the result of our experiences within our multiple relationships and interactions. How other people relate to us affects our image of ourselves, but that doesn’t mean we are helpless in the face of other people’s behavior toward us.

    We may not have had much of a choice as a child, but it’s a different matter once we’re adults. With awareness, we’re now able to protect ourselves far better from others’ negativity toward us and set necessary boundaries.

    Learning to Connect in a Different Way

    If you’re dealing with a negative or painful relationship that leaves you feeling bad about yourself, you can of course choose to distance yourself from the person and limit contact. Sometimes, however, this isn’t possible, so you have to learn how to connect in a different way while safeguarding yourself from their negative impact on you.

    I decided I had to respond differently to my family member and their negativity for the sake of my well-being. I began to look beyond their behavior and actions, and in doing so I started to piece together an idea of what might be the real cause of their pain and unhappiness.

    I recalled they had often moaned about how much they hated their job, how they disliked the town they lived in and their neighbors, and they also often complained of tiredness and physical aches and pains.

    I began to see that this person’s negativity—even if it was aimed at me, maybe due to their feelings of envy—wasn’t really about me. They were unhappy with their life in general. Negative people are often unhappy on many levels.

    It also helped me to remember we all have emotional scars, as mentioned before. When you approach people from a place of understanding, compassion, and empathy, you no longer see them as cheats, liars, betrayers, or “bad” people out to get you—even though they might cheat, lie, or betray you. You instead begin to see beyond their behavior and recognize that they’re in pain.

    When you do that a lot of their power over you starts to fade. You begin to see them as vulnerable, like everyone else. You start to realize that their negative actions toward you reflect far more on them than they do on you.

    People often hurt each other because of their own deep pain and because they don’t know any other way to act. This is often a painful lesson to learn.

    But when you finally grasp this difficult truth, you become more accepting of what happened, more forgiving, and ready to let go and move on. You realize you do not need to take on their negativity, brood about it, or feel you are the cause of it.

    That doesn’t mean you have to condone or accept mistreatment. And that’s not to say people’s negativity toward you won’t bother or hurt you ever again, but the effect won’t be so intense. You’ll realize that the situation isn’t really about you at all. Any pain they try to inflict on you is simply a reflection of what they feel inside; it no longer feels so personal.

    When I stopped taking my relative’s negativity personally, I was able to interact with them in a different way. I was much more relaxed in their company and able to enjoy family gatherings much more.

    When you stop taking other people’s negativity personally, you cease to be so susceptible to creating your self-image through their eyes. In fact, you start to focus far more on how you view them.

    Then you’re also free to focus less on their negativity and bad behavior and more on how you respond to it. That might mean setting boundaries and limiting your contact with them, and that’s okay. Sometimes you have to understand and empathize from afar to take good care of yourself.

    We’re All in the Same “Life” Boat

    Essentially, we’re all in the same “life” boat, bobbing up and down on the vast ocean of existence.

    We are all fallible. We all inflict hurt on others, intentionally and unintentionally.

    We all experience negative situations and inevitable suffering, and we simply have to accept this. Without pain and suffering we might not value joy or experience spiritual growth. If we never experienced adversity, we might not appreciate our strength.

    And without negative people we might not be truly grateful for or cherish the loving, supportive people we have in our lives.

  • Calling Out Bullies: Why You Need to Stand Up for Yourself

    Calling Out Bullies: Why You Need to Stand Up for Yourself

    “Standing up for yourself doesn’t make you argumentative. Sharing your feelings doesn’t make you overly sensitive. And saying no doesn’t make you uncaring or selfish. If someone won’t respect your feelings, needs, and boundaries, the problem isn’t you; it’s them.” ~Lori Deschene

    In Harper Lee’s To Kill a Mockingbird, the main character Atticus Finch says, “I wanted you to see what real courage is, instead of getting the idea that courage is a man with a gun in his hand. It’s when you know you’re licked before you begin, but you begin anyway and see it through no matter what.”

    What real courage is. 

    The message Atticus Finch provides is simple yet poignant and so often overlooked in our homes, communities, businesses, and society today.

    A quick search on Merriam-Webster reveals their definition of courage to be “mental or moral strength to venture, persevere, and withstand danger, fear, or difficulty.”

    That definition fully supports the message Atticus Finch has been sharing with readers and viewers since the early 1960s.

    However, what it doesn’t support is our society’s narrow-minded view that courage is about being tough, domineering, combative, uncompassionate, and even violent.

    These stereotypes are continuously portrayed in movies and television shows, tolerated in our workplaces, prevalent in politics, and sadly, instilled in our children.

    What real courage means to me is the ability to go against the grain—to stand up for what may not be popular, for what may even get you ostracized, for the betterment of others and yourself.

    I would say a good representation of real courage are those who make the difficult decision to speak out against the bullies on the playground, who grow up and become bullies in the workplace. Something I sadly know a few things about.

    I’ve spent much of my life battling personal insecurities. While professional help has certainly aided in my continual journey to lessen their presence, as anyone who’s struggled with insecurities very well knows, you’re never completely rid of them. You just find ways to manage through and around them.

    My insecurities—like a loyal though unwelcome companion—rendered me timid, non-confrontational, unworthy, fearful, and quiet. When compounded with the reality that I was never athletic—a stereotypical and seemingly necessary characteristic when measuring manliness in society—I was often branded as an easy target for bullies.

    My grandparents, who were always there to offer a compassionate ear without judgment, offered the following advice when I was being bullied at school: “Just walk away and they’ll leave you alone.”

    While my grandparents undoubtedly meant well, their advice didn’t build my self-esteem as much as extinguish what little I had. While their advice did in fact pause the bullying for a short duration, the cycle would continue not long after.

    As I got older, married, and matured naturally with age, my insecurities subsided in many areas, and my days of being bullied seemed like another place and time in an existence now void of such challenges.

    But it wasn’t long before I started to realize that bullies don’t just exist on the playground.

    Sadly, I’ve experienced workplace bullying throughout my career to varying degrees. Through it all, I continually adopted my grandparents’ advice to “just walk away.”

    With workplace bullies often influential and powerful in organizations, it seemed like sound advice, especially given that the ultimate purpose for Human Resources is to protect the company, not its employees.

    But all that changed recently when I volunteered to take some professional development courses on communication, in order to better interact with my peers, as I’m currently a remote employee.

    While we’re taught reading, writing, and arithmetic during our undergraduate education, we’re rarely taught the skills to be an effective communicator.

    Oftentimes what we learn comes from witnessing an exchange of dialogue between those around us—in our homes, our schools, our communities, on television and in the movies, and yes, at our places of employment.

    However, not all the traits we absorb for being an effective communicator are rational or authentic.

    The online platform I’m utilizing suggests other courses to take after completion—one of which was “Bullying in the Workplace.” At first, I was going to bypass the suggestion altogether, but thought maybe there was something I needed to read.

    As it turns out, purposely isolating someone, making it known that you refuse to work with them even though the relationship is warranted, is in fact a bullying technique often referred to as “social bullying through intimidation.”

    Society believes that bullying fits into a neat little compartment. That it has to be aggressive and physically or verbally abusive in nature in order to be branded as such.

    But the reality is that bullying takes on many forms in schools, in businesses, and even in our homes. It’s so much more than just the violent behaviors we see popularized in news headlines and on TV shows, and therefore is often dismissed as nothing more than “personality conflicts.”

    While many consider being bullied as a test of one’s courage, I personally believe the measure of one’s real courage comes after you’ve accused the attacker.

    Sadly, many organizations fail to see bullying as a legitimate complaint, and often show little compassion toward those who bring bullying to their attention. My situation was no different.

    When I finally got up enough courage to make an official accusation that this refusal to work with me was, in fact, bullying, my superiors implied I was being paranoid and overly sensitive, fabricating observations in my head, as though my feelings weren’t warranted at all.

    With the exception of my direct manager, everyone implied I was wasting the companies’ time on a complaint that I suspect they already rendered baseless before a single in-person interview was conducted.

    They never asked me how I was feeling throughout the process. They never told me how courageous it was to bring such a difficult matter to the forefront of the company’s attention in the hopes of making things better for everyone.

    I never felt the company applied empathy to my circumstance, dismissing the consensus from cited research which was meant to provide credibility to my accusation, by claiming they simply couldn’t find any evidence supporting what I was talking about.

    I wish I could say that my workplace bullying complaint was taken seriously, but it wasn’t. It was quickly swept back under the rug after it was brought to management’s attention, leaving me to question if anything positive actually came from the experience.

    Admittedly, my bullying experiences have never reached the incredible magnitude others have been forced to endure, and truthfully, they are more of a shining example of courage than I can ever proclaim myself to be. But I do understand how it feels and that connectedness helps us realize we’re not alone in our plight.

    It’s important to remember that courage doesn’t mean you emerge victorious. It doesn’t mean that the so-called winner in our competitive hierarchy has really won much of anything.

    Courage is standing up for yourself when the risks are many and the possible rewards are few.

    I now know firsthand why so many cases of bullying in the workplace go unreported—why so many wonderful people choose to remain silent and instead leave organizations they truly love rather than stand up for themselves.

    It’s because the organizations they work for have shamefully failed them during times when it mattered most.

    What’s important is that you never give up on yourself, that even when you know you’re licked before you begin, you begin anyway and keep trying to do the right thing, while holding on and moving forward.

    But I want to be clear that unburdening yourself from the suffering of bullying is what real courage is. To risk alienation and retaliation to not only benefit your own life, but the lives of others this person may bully in the future. That’s truly selfless and shows incredible bravery, which often goes unnoticed.

    Those who are bullied and choose to come forward are often blamed and demoralized rather than acknowledged and applauded. What does that say about society when we dismiss these courageous individuals while supporting and promoting the bullies of the world?

    I wish I had the answer, but I don’t. All I can say with certainty is that anyone who comes forward with a claim of bullying is a crowning example of what real courage is. They deserve our trust, compassion, praise, and support, not our judgment.

    Fred Rogers once said, “It’s not the honors and the prizes and the fancy outsides of life which ultimately nourish our souls. It’s the knowing that we can be trusted, that we never have to fear the truth, that the bedrock of our very being is good stuff.”

    I stand behind my truth, regardless of the fact that the organization has denied it. And the truth, whether believed or not, is now out there subliminally haunting the accuser and hopefully forcing necessary changes to benefit everyone in the organization.

    Be proud of your truth and firmly stand beside it. Take solace in the fact that even if others do their best to try to discredit what you’re saying and how you’re feeling, at the end of the day the truth is still the truth.

  • You Don’t Suck at Life: How to Stop Believing Your Inner Bully

    You Don’t Suck at Life: How to Stop Believing Your Inner Bully

    “You’re too fat to wear that tight shirt to the gym.”

    “You’re not smart enough to take the lead on that project at work.”

    “You’re definitely going to screw up the vacation plans.”

    “You’re not good enough, cool enough, likable enough.” 

    “You suck.”

    If we talked like this to anyone, it would be considered bullying.

    And yet we talk to ourselves like this all the time.

    We talk to ourselves in a way we would never talk to people we care about. We take these words to heart and believe them as truth.

    We turn these words into our core belief system, holding ourselves back from growth, fulfillment, and happiness.

    We set high expectations for ourselves, and if we don’t meet them it comes out in unfair, untrue, and flat-out mean judgments.

    We say “treat others the way you’d like to be treated” but don’t follow that advice when it comes to how we treat ourselves.

    I certainly didn’t.

    I was a Grade A self-bully for years.

    Every day when I left work, I’d hear this voice in my head telling me, “They’re going to figure out you’re a fraud and don’t know what you’re doing. Anyone can do this job better than you. They’re going to fire you. You’re an embarrassment.”

    I never had many friends, but when the few I had would invite me out somewhere, I’d think, “They just pity me. They’re only inviting me because they feel obligated. I’m not as pretty as they are and don’t fit in. I never know the right thing to say. I’m going to screw this up.”

    I always imagined how disappointed my parents would be in me if they saw how messy my house was, or what they’d think of me leaving a well-paying job to start my own business, or if they knew that I lost that stock certificate and now had to pay a stupid amount of money to get it replaced. I’d think, “They’ll judge me and think that I’ve failed them, and that I’m not as good as they expected me to be.”

    I told myself how unlikeable I was, and that’s why I didn’t have more friends.

    I told myself how I’d never be successful because I never had any good ideas.

    I told myself how ugly I was. How boring I was. How awkward I was.

    I was constantly putting myself down, partly because I was a perfectionist, and partly because I worried way too much about what other people thought of me and never felt I was good enough to meet their standards.

    But that was the old me.

    I’ve come a long way since then. I slip up on occasion, but I’m much better equipped now to course correct using the steps below.

    Changing my relationship with my inner bully took me a few years of studying, training, and practicing.

    If you’ve been bullying yourself for years, it will likely take you time to change your habit, as well. But these six key strategies will make a lot easier to be kind to yourself.

    Step 1: Say hello.

    When we hear that self-bully talk, we tend to instantly believe it without recognizing what’s going on or questioning it. We see it as truth. We fully experience it.

    The first step to quieting your inner bully is to say hello. That is, mindfully recognize that this is self-bully talk happening. Maybe even personify it by giving it a name or even a gender.

    I like to minimize my inner bully by giving her a silly name: Cupcake.

    When I hear inner talk like “Ugh, you suck at this,” I notice this and say, “Oh, hi Cupcake. Welcome to the party.”

    This allows me to step back from the voice. Just like I do when I’m watching a scary movie and I don’t want to get too scared. I step back and recognize that these are actors on a screen, they are reading scripts, there are cameras and lights pointing at them.

    I go from being fully absorbed in the movie, like I’m in it, to noticing that I’m watching a movie. It’s a subtle but profound shift.

    From this place, we can create space, which enables us to make change in the next step.

    Step 2: Change how you experience your bully.

    We experience thoughts as pictures, sounds, or feelings. Most people experience their inner bully thoughts as sound, like hearing a voice telling them “you suck.”

    Here’s a fun trick to change how you experience your inner bully. Change the sound of the “voice.”

    When I hear that voice telling me that I suck, I say, “Hi Cupcake, what do you have to say again?”

    Then I repeat her words in a funny cartoon voice. Now she sounds like Mickey Mouse and I can’t even take her seriously.

    If you’re a visual type and “you suck” comes to you in a picture—perhaps one of you at a time in your life when you felt like you failed—you can try a different tactic (or both even).

    Since I named her “Cupcake,” I can also picture her as such.

    Now I see a cupcake with a Mickey Mouse voice telling me “you suck.” Which, of course, is adorable and hilarious.

    This helps me step further out of that negative mind frame so I can take the next step. 

    Step 3: Find the positive intent.

    Everything we do has a positive intent. Even when we’re being mean to ourselves.

    When I was telling myself that I was no good at my job, my bully was really trying to push me to do better so I wouldn’t get fired, and trying to protect me from being caught off-guard if that happened. She was also trying to tell me where I still had and opportunity to grow and learn.

    When I find myself procrastinating on a project because my bully is telling me that I’m not going to do a good job anyway, I know she’s just trying to protect me from failure.

    She didn’t choose the most helpful method, but she meant well.

    I can now say, “Thanks, Cupcake. I can take it from here.”

    And then I move onto the next step.

    Step 4: Choose a neutral or positive thought instead.

    Sometimes it can feel like a big leap to go from a negative to a positive. Going from “I’m a failure” to “I’m a success” might feel false to you considering the circumstances.

    In this case, try a neutral thought instead. See how it feels to go from “I’m a failure” to “I’m not a failure at everything.”

    In my case, at work I would often think “I can’t do this.” (This was usually when someone asked me to analyze some data, which wasn’t my strong suit.)

    To get myself out of self-bully mode, I would slightly alter the statement “I can’t do this” by adding “yet.”

    “I can’t do this… yet.”

    Sometimes I could even replace it with “I can do this,” just to try it out and see how it felt. More often than not, it actually felt true. I just hadn’t thought of that idea yet.

    And over time I did get better at analyzing data.

    The point is, you can choose what thoughts to think.

    Step 5: Give yourself permission to be imperfect.

    (Note, this step is only applicable if you identify as a human.)

    Our inner bullies come out of the woodwork when we do something that we consider “imperfect.”

    We don’t look perfect. We didn’t execute something perfectly. We didn’t make the perfect choice.

    The phrase “I’m only human” is another way of saying, by nature, I will make mistakes. Mistakes are allowed. Not only allowed but expected.

    Write yourself a permission slip to be imperfect. Just see how it feels.

    “I, Sandy, give myself permission to write a blog post about self-bullying and not write it perfectly.”

    That felt pretty good. 🙂

    Step 6: Know that you are not alone and can ask for help if you need it.

    Over time, negative self-talk becomes a habit, and as we’ve all experienced, habits are hard to form or break.

    If you’re having trouble breaking your self-bullying habit, even using these steps, you don’t have to go it alone, and you shouldn’t be afraid or ashamed to ask for help.

    Working with a supportive therapist or coach, or even just confiding in a friend, can make a huge difference. An unbiased outsider is able to hear our thoughts, what we’re saying and not saying, and reflect those back to us when we don’t notice them.

    They provide us with support and accountability to keep us on track toward our goals and cheer us on along the way. They ask us tough questions, that we wouldn’t think to ask ourselves.

    They also help remind us that we’re not alone in feeling how we feel. That it’s not only common, but people can see improvement, which is incredibly reassuring. Odds are, everyone you’ve ever met has struggled with this too, and still does on occasion.

    Personally, I reached out for help much later in my own journey because I was embarrassed. My inner bully told me that if I went to someone for help, it meant I was weak. And that they would tell me there’s nothing wrong with me and to suck it up (our inner bullies tend to lie to us).

    I don’t have regrets in my life. Every experience has made me who I am today, and I love who I am. I’m sure the tougher path I took made me stronger along the way.

    But I also think I would have reached freedom from my inner-bully more quickly had I put my ego aside and opened up to someone sooner.

    Know that you are not alone. Everyone feels or has felt the way you do, and like you, they struggle with this at times and see progress at others. So try to be good to yourself—and aim for progress, not perfection.

    Much love and light on your journey, my friend.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  • Dealing with Bullies: How to Cope When People Are Cruel

    Dealing with Bullies: How to Cope When People Are Cruel

    “How people treat you is their karma; how you react is yours.” ~Dr. Wayne Dyer

    I was the quintessential late bloomer, not hitting my growth spurt until my junior year of high school. I’m six feet tall now, but for all of middle school and the first half of high school, I was one of the shortest kids in the entire school.

    Additionally, some thought I had a slight lisp. I was extremely self-conscious about it after a few people unkindly pointed it out to me. During my senior year I wore Invisalign braces, which corrected my teeth and improved my speech mannerisms, but for many years I was embarrassed about my pronunciation of certain words.

    I was frequently bullied for how short I was and the way I spoke. Since I had low self-esteem already, I felt like I was fundamentally flawed and unworthy as a person. It’s safe to say high school was an extremely difficult time.

    When I went to a small liberal arts school called McDaniel College down in Westminster, Maryland, I was ready to start over. I was especially looking forward to meeting new people and leaving the days of being bullied behind. That’s when I met Tom (name changed to protect his privacy).

    The Worst Bully I Ever Had to Face

    Tom was on my college baseball team. He was the meanest, nastiest, cruelest bully I’ve ever had to face in my life.

    Tom hated my guts, and to this day I don’t know why. I’m an analytical and observant person, so here’s my educated guess: One of my values is kindness, so when I meet people, I’m friendly. Perhaps Tom didn’t think I was one of the cool kids because I was “too nice.”

    Tom hung around fellow bullies, people who enjoyed making fun of people. There’s nothing Tom enjoyed more than disrespecting others and making them feel unworthy, it seemed, perhaps because it made him feel better about himself.

    Tom didn’t bully me for my height or for the way I spoke; he bullied me because of my general lack of confidence. I was afraid of him, and he knew it.

    At one party, he told me to go hide in the closet. At another party, he made me feel so unwelcome and embarrassed that I left the party. At the gym once, he purposely bumped into me in an aggressive way and then walked away.

    Why did I do nothing while he treated me like this?

    Two main reasons: One, no one ever taught me how to properly stand up for myself. I did not have the skills, tools, or know-how to assert myself. Two, during my senior year of high school, I came incredibly close to committing suicide. There was still a part of me wondering if I belonged on this planet.

    I had acne that wouldn’t go away, and because I didn’t like myself, I subconsciously thought maybe I deserved to be treated like garbage. Ridiculous, I know, but my self-esteem was low at that point in my life. Bullies like Tom prey on people with low self-esteem, and I was his prime target.

    I stopped going to any baseball parties or social functions. I sat in my room by myself on Friday and Saturday nights. While my teammates were partying, I was letting my social anxiety get the best of me.

    My anxiety ran sky-high when the thought of Tom crossed my mind. I was letting this one person dominate my life. I became depressed because I never would have expected bullying to continue into college. I wondered if things would ever get better.

    The Silver Lining

    After some dark and isolated nights—made easier thanks to phone calls with my awesome younger sister, Annemarie—I realized I had to stop letting Tom ruin my college experience. I started to introduce myself to other people on the campus. I joined other groups and made all sorts of new friends.

    I only saw Tom and the rest of my baseball teammates during a practice, game, or mandatory team function. Many of the other players on the team looked up to Tom as the leader of the pack, the tough guy they admired, so they weren’t people I felt comfortable being around.

    While I chose McDaniel College to continue my baseball career, I decided to stop spending time with people who didn’t think highly of me whenever I could. I made many great friends at my college, and very few of them were on the baseball team.

    I ended up having a great college experience because of this. If not for my experience with Tom, I may not have extended my social circle that far.

    So I have two words for Tom: thank you. Thank you for redirecting me toward kinder, more loving people. Thank you for giving me the motivation to introduce myself to new people instead of limiting myself to some silly clique.

    Eventually, some of the other players on the team noticed how many people I knew at the school. A few of them even said I was popular. I realized something profound then: When you are rejected by a person or group of people, life has given you an opportunity to expand your horizons, meet new people, and make new friends.

    My senior year of college, with my confidence finally starting to rise, I had the guts to go tailgate with my baseball teammates during a school football game. Tom punched me square in the face and then immediately left before I had a chance to say or do anything.

    A week later, I saw him at the library. Rather than retaliate or seek revenge, I asked to have a discussion with him, and he agreed.

    He told me he’d punched me because I was drinking his friend’s beer—the beer that was supposedly for all the players on the baseball team, except for me, that is. I was the only one on the team harassed for this.

    Tom went on to say that during freshman year he didn’t think I was one of the cool kids. He explained that he didn’t hate me as a person, but he didn’t agree with a lot of the things I did.

    “Everyone has their own opinions,” he said. I had no idea what he meant, as in my freshman year of college I was always kind and respectful to others, but rather than inquire further into his inner world, I kept the discussion brief. More than anything else, I was glad the feud was likely coming to an end.

    I don’t know what made Tom become kinder than usual in this final conversation of ours, but as we made eye contact, he could see the big black eye he gave me. He didn’t outright apologize to me, but he clearly felt sorry for what he did. His words and actions were conciliatory.

    Perhaps he respected that I had just spent two semesters abroad, studying at McDaniel’s satellite campus in Budapest, Hungary, as he did mention my travels in our discussion. He probably realized I’d made the most of my opportunities and had an enriching college experience, despite his continual and incessant disrespect.

    To my surprise, he ended the conversation by shaking my hand. We then peacefully went our separate ways. By that point he had quit the baseball team, and I no longer had to see him every day. He never bothered me again.

    How to Move Beyond Bullying

    Dealing with bullying is never easy or pleasant, but it comes with the territory of being human. Bullying happens not only on sports teams and in schools but also in the workplace and other organizations. I hope these tips will help you deal with the cruel people in your life and come out on top.

    Have Compassion

    It can be difficult to have compassion for your bullies, but it helps to remember that hurt people hurt people.

    Bullies want to make you think there is something wrong with you. The truth is there is nothing wrong with you, and they’re the ones with the problem. Deep down inside they feel scared and unworthy, and they believe the only way to build themselves up is to tear someone else down.

    Truly, feel bad for people like this. As I recently learned from my friend Evan Carmichael during a YouTube live discussion with him, this does not mean you must say out loud that you have compassion for them. It’s something you can do within your mind, heart, and soul. Practicing compassion makes it easier to not take things personally and to not react emotionally.

    Don’t Let Their Opinion Define Your Reality

    Tom thought I wasn’t worth hanging out with, but the truth is I have a lot to offer people. Despite Tom’s opinion of me, I ended up making plenty of friends.

    In what parts of your life are you letting cruel naysayers limit you? You are not defined by what other people think; you are defined by your actions and what you think of yourself.

    Don’t let a bully change the way you view yourself. The next time a bully says something to you that isn’t true, pause. Then calmly say, Oh, really? Shrug your shoulders and move on with your day. The bully will most likely be neutralized.

    They are looking to get a reaction out of you and feed off your defensiveness. When you show them that their opinion means little to you, they tend to leave you alone.

    Meet New People

    A bully is one person. There are lots of great people out there in the world for you to meet. Don’t let one bad egg, or a few bad eggs, spoil the bunch.

    If you are in school, join other groups that interest you. If you are in the workplace, attend networking events and other kinds of social outings outside of work each month. The person who will change your life in a positive way is one step beyond your biggest doubt. Don’t be afraid to get outside your comfort zone because it will show you that the world is filled with awesome people.

    Talk to a Close Friend or Family Member

    When I was all alone on a Saturday night in my dorm room, isolated from my teammates, and before I met new people at my college, talking to my sister on the phone helped to remind me of all that was good about me and my life.

    You are only alone if you choose to be alone. Reach out to a trusted friend or family member you feel comfortable with and vent your innermost thoughts and feelings to them. It feels good to have a listening ear, someone who reminds us of our value. Sometimes, we get so caught up in our problems that we forget about the wonderful person we are.

    Don’t Cross the Line Just Because They Do

    My sophomore year of college, while I was drunk, without thinking I went to Tom’s dorm room with a friend, knocked on the door, and went in. It was confrontational, but more than anything else it was an insecure “let’s be friends” kind of thing.

    My incoherence, coupled with the fact that he really didn’t like me, made this a really bad and immature idea. By doing this, I opened up old wounds. His inexcusable actions were definitely on him, but it was not the right time, and I was not in the right state to talk to him. We didn’t get into a fight that night, and he was actually pretty calm in the moment, but it gave him more incentive to bully me in the future, since I’d invaded his private space.

    Remember that just because someone else crosses the line, that doesn’t mean you have to cross it as well. You’re not responsible for what someone else does to you, but you are responsible for how you respond to it.

    Assert Yourself Without Overreacting

    When dealing with a bully who won’t leave you alone, sometimes you need to assert yourself without overreacting. To respond in an even-keeled way, focus on asserting how you feel. Use “I” statements rather than “you” statements as much as you can.

    When you accuse the bully, it will egg them on to keep going. But when you focus on how you feel, it will point out to the bully that they’ve crossed the line. Here are some examples. Try to do this during one-on-one conversations, but say it in the moment if necessary:

    • I don’t like the disrespect. Please stop.
    • I feel frustrated that I’m not getting my space. I’m not getting any respect.
    • I don’t like how our conversations are always one-sided. I need to share my thoughts too.
    • I don’t deserve this. I deserve better.
    • I’m not happy with this. The negativity is pointless. Stop it, or we’re done.

    These tactics did not work with Tom for many years, but they might work with a less extreme bully.

    Send Them Love and Forgiveness

    The late, great Susan Jeffers created an exercise I absolutely love. When you are alone, imagine the bully you are dealing with as a child. Surround them with light and love, and repeat in your mind, I send them love, I send them love, I send them love.

    I was so afraid of Tom that he became a monster in my mind, dictating my actions around my college campus for a while. The truth is, he is a person like the rest of us, and something went seriously wrong in his upbringing. You don’t know what the bully has been through; they’ve become this way because they are hurting on the inside. Send them love and forgiveness.

    Go to the Authorities When Needed

    Be the bigger person, but only do so up to your limits. After Tom physically attacked me with a strong punch that left me with a bruised eye, I was at my limit. In one last attempt to end it, I peacefully confronted him face-to-face, and it worked.

    I don’t believe in retaliation or violence, so I stuck to my values even after he physically hurt me. With that said, if he attacked or threatened me even one more time, I would have gone to my coach and the campus authorities.

    When a bully turns into a criminal, please do not ever be afraid to take action. The bully wants you to live in a prison of fear, but when they see you will not tolerate their actions, they will stop. The last resort before turning it over to the authorities is to tell them directly, “If this doesn’t stop, I’m going to [person in position of authority].”

    They may try to make you feel like less of a person for doing this, but remember that their opinion doesn’t matter. All that matters is that you do what you need to do to find a solution.

    Putting It All Together

    Bullying is an international epidemic, and it needs to stop. But before the world comes to its senses, we’re going to have to learn how to deal with nasty, difficult people.

    The truth is we can’t control how other people act, but we can control how we respond to those other people. By sending our bullies compassion, asserting ourselves, and choosing not to be defined by their opinions, we can create a happy ending for ourselves.

    The experience itself may be a nightmare, but you can peacefully move on with your life knowing you are a person of integrity and values.

    You can move beyond the bullying you are experiencing, or have already experienced. You can find the silver lining and come out on top.

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

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

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

    Dear Bullies,

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

    Dear bullies, I really remember that laughter.

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

    I felt crushed that day.

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

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

    I would be finally accepted.

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

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

    I remember it all.

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

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

    But this is not where my story ends.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

    Thank you for making me strong.

    Kind regards,

    Rachel

  • 5 Ways to Cope with Family Bullies

    5 Ways to Cope with Family Bullies

    “When we can no longer change a situation, we are challenged to change ourselves.” ~Viktor Frankl

    Bullies are everywhere. One of the most insidious and destructive forms of bullying is family bullying, because it’s often done in the name of love.

    As someone who was bullied by family members for more years than I care to count, I spent a lot of time learning that most of the bullying going on was not about me or my failings—it was more about what other people needed to unload.

    Family bullies often pretend to (or believe they can) help by offering criticism. But a majority of the criticism is usually designed to make the bully feel better rather than to help the victim.

    In my family, bullying was the way my parents got rid of their feelings. After years of paying close attention to what was going on under the surface, I finally realized that the more emotions my parents were trying to deny in themselves, the more they put me down.

    I also learned that there are ways to minimize the effects of relating to dysfunctional family members, and I’d like to share them with you.

    1. Plan your responses ahead of time.

    If you know what kinds of comments push your buttons, prepare responses ahead of time that allow you to hold on to your self-esteem.

    For instance, if someone always comments on your parenting style, you can say, “I parent my kids according to my own values. I’m sorry if you don’t like it, but that’s what I will continue to do.”

    Use “I” messages rather than “you” messages, which means saying “I think” or “I feel” rather than “You always” or “You shouldn’t.” “I” messages keep the focus on what you’re trying to communicate, and are less likely to instigate an argument.

    Practice your responses several times when you’re alone so they become automatic. When you’re in the midst of a heated situation, sometimes it’s hard to come up with a response that’s not habitual, so if you practice beforehand, standing up for yourself will begin to become a positive habit.

    2. Stand up to the bully without hostility.

    One tactic that often works to defuse criticism is to take a strong stance, look the person right in the eye, pause for a moment, and then say, “Excuse me?”

    With this phrase, you’re letting the person know that you’re aware they’re putting you down or dumping on you, and you’re not going to take it. But the beauty of this phrase is that it’s not hostile; you’re not adding fuel to the fire or throwing your anger back at the other person.

    You do need to take a strong stance, however, maintain eye contact, and say the words very clearly and distinctly. Sometimes this statement will stop the criticizer in his tracks as he steps back in his mind and hears what he actually said.

    3. Remove yourself from the situation.

    If you find yourself getting sucked into what the person says, take a break and go somewhere private. I used to go in the bathroom and scream silently, shake my hands, and shake my head. It helped to let the tension out of my body. Remind yourself that you don’t have to get caught up in the drama.

    It can take some practice over time to remember to take a break, but when you step out of the situation over and over, you’re reminding yourself of your separateness and your awareness of the dysfunction, and validating your desire to stay out of the traps and become mentally healthier.

    If you feel a need to leave the situation altogether, you do have the power to do that. People may get upset or yell or threaten you, but you’re not responsible for their feelings—you’re not responsible for calming them down, for solving their problems, or for ignoring your own needs in order to make them happy.

    They’ll try to get you under their control again, but the more you pay attention to your own needs and act on them, the more respect you’ll develop for yourself.

    4. Set boundaries.

    Setting boundaries ahead of time can help you feel more in control of a situation. Tell everyone ahead of time that you can only stay for two hours at a family party, or that instead of cooking the holiday ham for the tenth year in a row, this time you’ll bring a salad.

    You’ll need to be prepared for a backlash of “No! You can’t change! We liked you better when you let us control you!” But each time you stick to your guns, you’ll be growing stronger. Pay attention to your own needs and desires—they’re absolutely just as important as anyone else’s.

    5. When you leave, leave it all behind you.

    When you’ve just left a difficult situation, instead of rolling it around and around in your mind, set yourself a mental task of figuring out how to make it easier for yourself next time.

    What would need to change? How could you respond in a way that helps you feel more centered and grounded? What kinds of boundaries could you set up before the next time you see them?

    Ruminating over who said what and how awful it all felt for days afterward is a negative habit that reinforces old emotional patterns. Instead, remind yourself that the situation is over, and allow it to turn into a fading memory rather than constantly pulling it back into the front of your mind to relive over and over again.

    People who are regularly criticized by others tend to be very critical of themselves, as well. Have compassion for yourself, and treat yourself with kindness. Most of us are actually doing a better job at everything than we think we are—no matter what anyone else believes or says.

  • Inspiring Fifth Graders Rally Around a Bullied Boy with Special Needs

    Inspiring Fifth Graders Rally Around a Bullied Boy with Special Needs

    If all the stories of vicious bullying have left you fearing for humanity, take a couple of minutes to hear from five inspiring boys who took a peer with special needs under their wing and made him part of their gang.

     

  • Positive Post-It Day

    Positive Post-It Day

    Some people fight fire with fire, others douse it in love. That’s what Caitlin Prater-Haacke chose to do in the face of online bullying, by posting positive post-it notes around her school. And her positivity is spreading far beyond the halls.

  • Speaking Up When You’re Bullied, in School and Beyond

    Speaking Up When You’re Bullied, in School and Beyond

    “Sometimes the biggest act of courage is a small one.” ~Lauren Raffo

    During the summer of 2001, I experienced three months of torment.

    My days were filled with verbal lashings, public humiliation, and pushing my body to its physical limits. I was being broken down. I chose to accept this as my normal. I accepted my punishment like I thought I should. I was seventeen.

    Nothing made my anxiety fly away and quieted the constant chatter in my brain like dance. I may not have been the best, or most technically proficient dancer (my fouettes would never land me a Joffery Ballet scholarship), but moving to music made my heart sing.

    Naturally, I decided to try out for my high school’s dance team. I ended up securing a spot on the kick line of this infamous and exclusive group.

    Varsity dance has been an institution at my high school for nearly sixty years. Throughout that enormous chunk of time, many traditions were thought up, tweaked, and passed on. Now, these are not your average high school traditions of young girls simply making goofy matching t-shirts, wearing the same half-up-half-down hairstyle, and teepeeing new teammates.

    Most of the traditions passed on are bullying.

    My summer of new-girl hazing included performing thousands of kicks until I got bursitis in both of my worn out knees, sitting in the splits until my wrists buckled under pressure, constantly hearing how unworthy I was of being on the team, and performing hyper-sexualized dances in front of ogling male classmates. Those were just a few highlights of my experience.

    Then came the day the “old girls” decided to finally initiate me as a full-fledged member of the team.

    The veteran members drove me around with a blindfold hugging my sobbing eyes, while verbally ripping in to each and every one of my mental weaknesses. After making several stops to “practice” dances and kick to the brink of exhaustion, I arrived just after dusk at a house belonging to one of the captains. (more…)