Tiny Buddha

Tag: confrontation

  • Share Your Truth: 4 Reasons to Stand Up for Yourself

    Share Your Truth: 4 Reasons to Stand Up for Yourself

    “If you want to live an authentic, meaningful life, you need to master the art of disappointing and upsetting others, hurting feelings, and living with the reality that some people just won’t like you. It may not be easy, but it’s essential if you want your life to reflect your deepest desires, values, and needs.” ~Cheryl Richardson

    Last week, I was at the studio where I teach, and one of the teachers was running late. Her students began arriving, so I came out of the office where I was working and started welcoming them, directing them into the room for practice.

    She came rushing, quickly stopped by the office, peeked in, and said, “I hope I am not stressing you out when I arrive late like this and you are accommodating people who came before me.”

    I smiled and said that it wasn’t a problem and that I had directed them into the room for practice. She said okay and disappeared, mingling and welcoming the students.

    And that was the moment when I betrayed myself.

    Why?

    Because inside, I wasn’t okay with her being late. I wasn’t okay with being interrupted while working. I wasn’t okay with the fact that she didn’t bother letting me know she was running late.

    But instead of being honest while kindly asking her to come in earlier or communicating with me if she was running late in the future, I chose the road of least resistance. I traded what I authentically felt for the comfort of fakeness. And it hurt.

    In the past, I would try to mask my frustration with thoughts like, “Come on, you can do this for her. What’s your problem? Stop making a big deal out of nothing. Just let it go.”

    But the truth was, I often didn’t let things go. Since I denied and ridiculed what I felt, my inner resentment and anger toward myself began to grow. Of course, I would direct it toward others, silently blaming them for their behavior while playing the victim card.

    When she and all the students went into the room, I was left in silence with my thoughts. Since I was aware of what I’d just done, I knew that I had to fix it. I knew that if I didn’t speak up, I would always choose the path of least resistance while remaining silent around things that I don’t like, don’t align with, or simply am not okay with.

    Therefore, I decided to communicate my thoughts with her and be honest about how I felt.

    After the session ended, I waited while everyone left and called her into the office. As I heard her approaching, I felt a pit in my stomach while finding it hard to swallow. She popped her head in and asked, “What’s up?”

    I went on to say, “I think you could come a few minutes earlier next time or at least text me if you are running late.”

    She immediately apologized and said she was sorry about it and that she wasn’t trying to take advantage of my being there.

    I continued further.

    “You know, I wasn’t honest when I said it’s okay. I was being nice, but I was fake, and I am working on not doing that anymore.”

    Ironically, at the end of our conversation, I felt even closer to her. We talked for another thirty minutes, sharing what was happening in our coaching businesses and listening to each other’s challenges while bouncing ideas off each other.

    Although we won’t get a positive result every time we speak our truth, I’ve learned there are four compelling reasons to stand up for ourselves.

    1. It builds self-respect. 

    I think we’ve all wondered at least once in our lives, “How can I love myself, and what does that even mean?”

    I’ve learned that the path to self-love is through self-respect. When we do things that honor our well-being, our relationship with ourselves will naturally improve.

    In his book The 5 Love Languages, Gary Chapman says that love is action. Although he applies this concept to relationships with others, doesn’t the same idea apply to our relationships with ourselves?

    We don’t build self-respect by thinking about how we should act, but by taking actions that show self-respect. And this often comes with some level of discomfort since we are shedding off our old people-pleasing tendencies or fear of rejection and judgment.

    Since we are not familiar with this new persona, we may take one step forward and then two steps back. But if we are willing to go through these growing pains, we’ll be well on our way to building healthy relationships while honoring our mental and emotional health.

    2. It makes us less resentful and angry. 

    When I lied to a teacher in the studio and pretended that I was okay with her being late, I felt a surge of anger and upset flooding my body. Although this feeling was quite subtle, I realized that every time I betrayed myself like this, it was there. I just chose to ignore it.

    Since I didn’t want to deal with the discomfort of having a conversation and standing up for myself, I denied it. This created a series of suppressed emotions over time.

    The truth is, we often know when we are betraying ourselves. If we stop for a moment when these situations happen and look at what we are truly feeling, we’ll see that we aren’t okay with half of the things we agree to.

    Maybe we do it out of fear of being judged or abandoned, or because we want to please others. Either way, the repercussions of self-betrayal are long-lasting.

    But when we find the courage to speak up, to have uncomfortable conversations, and to stand up for ourselves, we begin breaking the cycle of past conditioning and trauma and start rebuilding relationships with ourselves.

    Although I felt a pit in my stomach and difficulty swallowing my saliva before sharing my truth, I felt a sense of ease and respect toward myself because I knew I was standing up for myself. I wasn’t in denial (as I often was before), lying, or pretending; I was true to myself. The initial resentment and upset I felt when I faked my response were gone, and a huge relief washed over me.

    3. It heals the part of us that seeks approval and validation. 

    A while back, I had a session with a client, and we talked about her standing up for herself when interacting with her mother. She was so used to pleasing and agreeing that she didn’t even know who she was or what she wanted in life. This parent/child dynamic was getting to her, and she felt she couldn’t pretend anymore.

    During one of our sessions, she ironically asked, “Isn’t it just easier to keep things the way they are?”

    She was referring to pleasing her mother instead of having hard conversations with her and, rather, making up stories about why she couldn’t come over or didn’t pick up the phone.

    Keeping things as they are may bring immediate relief because we don’t have to feel the icky feeling of speaking our truth. But eventually, the resentment and anger build up and manifest either in angry outbursts or, worse, mental, emotional, and physical illness.

    When we start speaking up and setting boundaries, we begin healing the part of us that constantly seeks approval and validation. We trade the fear of not being included for deep inner healing and blissful growth.

    4. It helps us protect our relationships if we communicate clearly and kindly. 

    In the past, I feared that when I spoke up for myself or set a boundary, I would hurt people. Since I was angry and resentful because of the lack of boundaries, I couldn’t imagine kindness and directness in one conversation. Over time, I learned that setting boundaries isn’t about kicking people out but about keeping them in my life.

    Therefore, I always make sure when I’m having these conversations that I am rested, in the right frame of mind, and very conscious of my words. Especially when I communicate my boundaries to someone for the first time, I always remind myself that whatever I allowed was on me.

    Most of the time, a person isn’t aware of the emotions I masked with my silence and often receives what I say quite well. However, one of my friendships ended because I spoke my truth. This is something we can’t predict.

    I also learned that the saying “no is a complete sentence” isn’t always the most suitable approach. It all depends on the situation and the dynamic of the relationship I am handling. Saying no to a stranger in a grocery store is a complete sentence, while communication with one of my closest friends requires a little more if I care to deepen our relationship instead of leaving them puzzled with a sudden change in my behavior.

    —

    Overall, I understand how unhealthy denying our truth is. Although I feel some fear around speaking my truth every time I do it, I’ve noticed that the inner resentment that sets in when remaining silent isn’t worth the validation and approval I sometimes seek.

    Therefore, I’ve decided to make a commitment to myself. When I notice that I want to take the route of least resistance, I pause, take a deep breath, and tell myself this simple affirmation: “My healing is non-negotiable.”

  • How to Mindfully Temper Road Rage and Make Driving Less Stressful

    How to Mindfully Temper Road Rage and Make Driving Less Stressful

    “Smile, breathe, and go slowly.” ~Thich Nhat Hanh

    As a Lyft driver, I once spent significant time out on the road—a setting rife with provocations and stressors.

    Driving can feel like a constant challenge to employ mindfulness instead of giving way to destructive emotions like impatience and frustration. Meditation can be difficult to practice when you’re navigating a vehicle (demanding as both activities are of your full attention)—try channeling all your senses into it, and you’ll likely plow over a pedestrian or end with your car in a ditch.

    Navigating the road mindfully, though, doesn’t have to mean closing your eyes or adopting any of the other classic “meditative” stances. I think it involves something simpler: momentary detachment—both from everything that’s happening around you and from your own internal reactions as you watch from an ever so slight distance while they ebb and flow.

    Here’s some of what I’ve learned about maintaining equanimity when out there on the stress-inducing road.

    The importance of keeping in mind that sometimes there’s something we’re not seeing.

    Driving down Market Street through downtown SF, I once noticed a number of pedestrians stopped inside the crosswalk in the middle of the street. They didn’t have the right of way; the light was red for them and green for us drivers who were trying to get through. Cars were honking.

    For maybe a second my impulse was to add to the honk melee. Then I took a closer look and saw what was actually going on: a lady had dropped her bags, causing their contents to spill to the pavement. The people in the street were passersby who had run to help her pick them up.

    Once they were finished, I noticed how they stood and raised their hands in apologetic gestures [to the perturbed honkers] that seemed to say both “Just wait one minute please” and “Sorry, sorry, sorry.”

    Witnessing this got me thinking about how often in this fast-paced world we jump to reactivity before even understanding what’s going on first. We’re especially primed to do this out on the road, I think.

    As Shankar Vedantam said on his podcast Hidden Brain, “This woman didn’t bump into you maliciously; she’s blind. This soldier standing in formation didn’t pass out because he doesn’t have what it takes; he’s diabetic and needs his insulin. This woman isn’t heartless because she didn’t help the elderly person who had fallen; she’s paralyzed from a spinal cord injury.”

    Often in life, crucial pieces of a larger whole are unavailable to us—yet sometimes we act or respond as if under the assumption that we have access to all of them.

    Particularly when a driver in front of me is moving very slowly, or randomly stops, I sometimes feel the impulse to honk. I wonder why they’re being “so inconsiderate.” I ask them, in my head, if they’ve forgotten where the gas pedal is located. My immediate instinct is to cast blame on whoever’s holding me up.

    Yet I have to remind myself that I’m missing information. Maybe the driver in front of me is stopping to let someone cross the street. Maybe there’s a red light in front of us that I can’t see. Maybe… [insert any other number of possibilities here].

    I can’t see any of that though.

    I’ve also been on the receiving end; for instance when I stop to let a baby animal cross the road. Unable to see the road-obstructing animal, the cars behind me get annoyed and honk their disapproval.

    Willingness to admit when I am wrong (similar to the point above).

    Once when driving home across the Richmond Bridge, I thought there were only two lanes, which led me to assume that the guy next to me was cheating by driving along the shoulder.

    In response, my mind wove an entire narrative involving an entitled driver that does whatever he wants—weaves in and out, causing near collisions; uses the shoulder as his own lane, so that he can accelerate past the mass of stopped cars before cheating his way back into the pack once he’s gained a clear edge.

    To the driver he has endangered [through this behavior], who has responded by honking, he says, “Why don’t they just chill out?”

    I pictured the people out there who engage in similar behavior when not in their cars. The ones with blinders on to their own actions, who maybe call out others for “being too sensitive” while refusing to acknowledge their contribution to eliciting this supposedly sensitive response from them.

    Outraged, I honked at the driver—yet he kept driving along the “shoulder.” I shot him a look of disbelief; he didn’t look back. He seemed to not have even registered that my honk was directed toward him.

    That’s when I realized why: the “shoulder” was actually a legitimate lane.

    Remembering I’ve been wrong in the past helps me practice equanimity when I’m tempted to get outraged on the road.

    Practice forgiving mistakes.

    I think about those cars that get stranded in the middle of the intersection during high-traffic hours—usually because the light turned red when they were halfway through it. I think about how the cars around them often unleash an ambush of honks to signal their disapproval.

    I say this to myself when I’m about to become an angry honker: The trapped driver made a mistake. He or she is probably already aware. Your honk won’t teach him something he doesn’t already know.

    I realize that all my honk would have added was more noise to an already overly raucous road, compounding the driver’s shame while maintaining my own stress and self-righteousness.

    On somewhat of a side note, I’ve noticed how at times the most reckless drivers can also be some of the most intolerant of other drivers’ mistakes. One time a man who’d been driving eighty on a commercial street seemed very disgruntled when I changed into his lane (even though my doing this wouldn’t have been a “near miss” to someone who’d been following the speed limit).

    First he slammed the brakes. Then he wove theatrically around me into the lane next to us. From there he proceeded to change lanes three more times in the course of one block, dodging cars like they were opponents in a high-speed chase video game.

    If we can remember we all make mistakes, it will be easier to offer other drivers grace.

    Practice gratitude. When you do have a smooth ride, acknowledge it to yourself. Hold onto that moment and remember how it felt.

    A metaphor comes to mind each time I drive over a trafficless bay bridge (which happens very rarely but when it does, feels magical). Cruising over the smooth pavement without a car in sight conjures a wintery, white Christmas feeling.

    This calming and cleansing sight contrasts starkly with the default state of the freeway: normally a long stretch of cars, constant reminders of overpopulation and limited resources. It feels similar to gliding down a ski slope when the snow is fresh, pristine, newly plowed, and un-scuffed by other skiers.

    I made a note to be grateful for it.

    Even machines like Siri can be recipient to your gratitude. When traffic clogs the freeway, for example, I appreciate how she escorts me onto an alternative route. On one, we drove down bucolic side roads past fields of sunflowers while country music played from my car speakers (and bugs splattered against the windshield). On another, a river gushed a few feet away from us, providing a peaceful backdrop both visually and auditorily.

    Don’t force it, but when a moment that might be worthy of some gratitude does present itself, register it (even if it’s extended toward an inanimate object). Acknowledge it, if only to yourself.

    Humanize the other drivers around you.

    I think part of what exacerbates and heightens road rage is the ease with which we’re able to dehumanize the drivers we’re sharing the road with because we see cars first, people second. Attuning to certain visual cues, though, can reinstate a human component.

    I’ve found that making eye contact with another driver can at times quell any road rage that’s starting to bubble on my end. Other little things, like keeping my corgi stuffed animal visible, also help (when drivers get mad, the sight may calm them).

    One time when driving, I came upon a car stopped in the middle of the road. Just as I was about to get annoyed at the hindrance, a little Latino boy eating an apricot stuck his head out the car window. Juice dribbled down his chin while he waited for his dad to fix their car (which was why they were stopped). The innocent sight instantly calmed me. It was almost Hallmark-card level of sweet and centering.

    Another “tempering” visual cue: when a dog sticks its head out the window to feel the breeze against its face. Irritation was beginning to mount one day when I saw them: those big, brown eyes—opened wide, earnest, and slightly damp—shining above a golden snout in the back window.

    Once again I was calmed, my anxiety diffused by our eye contact—reminded that we’re are all flesh and bone, even when stress pushes us to reduce each other to the metal contraptions we cart ourselves around inside of.

    Take your time, Sir. I’m just going to have a moment with your sweet fur baby in the meantime, if that’s okay…

    In the absence of visual cues, use your imagination.

    Whenever I start to feel impatient with the slow driver in front of me, but I can’t see their face (or no other visual cues are present to temper the impatience), I take a deep breath. Then I gently counsel myself to envision the human inside the car.

    The specifics of whichever person pops into my head don’t really matter. What matters is that I recognize their humanity and extend patience toward whoever does.

    If that doesn’t work, try picturing one of your family members. What if the driver was your uncle, or your kind elderly neighbor, or your mom? Use your imagination to see inside the 2,000 pound metal machine that’s obstructing your path. Draw features onto the faceless foe inside it. De-objectify its operator.

    —

    Driving and traffic can be stressful and draining. During the times when it feels like the surrounding cars and I are basically just crawling to our destination, I feel like I might as well be outside the car, pulling it with a rope—at least that way I’d get some exercise and Vitamin D.

    Sometimes I wish someone would invent a car feature that would allow the driver to switch to “pedal mode.” It’d be a great way to release endorphins through exercise (thereby reducing stress levels) during these inherently stressful situations.

    Until those innovations get brought into existence, though, we can work on controlling our own internal responses to whatever external road frustrations come our way.

  • What No One Tells You About Setting Boundaries: The Good, Bad, and Ugly

    What No One Tells You About Setting Boundaries: The Good, Bad, and Ugly

    “Yesterday I was clever, so I wanted to change the world. Today I am wise, so I am changing myself.” ~Rumi

    Three years back was the first time I dared to set a boundary and be assertive in a friendship, and guess what? She blocked me on her phone, and we stopped being friends.

    It came as a rude shock because I was quite invested in the friendship. Not only did we have good times together, but I had helped her search for and find a job and even babysat her kid for a long while free of charge. I felt betrayed and hurt. It made me feel like I was the one in the wrong, the bad person, and like I had no right to say what felt right to me.

    I admit that I was early in my journey of being assertive and learning how to set boundaries, so my skill set wasn’t the best. But despite the mayhem and chaos it caused, it was a good thing for me.

    We were similar in many ways, and I knew she was a lovely person. Still, I didn’t particularly appreciate that she always wanted to be in charge, acted as though she knew it all, only wanted her way, and behaved as though she had the world’s worst problems.

    I empathized with her because she shared her struggles with me. But I didn’t share mine back partly because I wasn’t comfortable and partly because I felt there was no place for me; it was only about her. So, one day, when I’d had enough, I exploded and said what I had to say, rudely, and that ended the relationship.

    Three years later, when the dust settled, we started talking. We are cordial, civilized, and respectful now. We share laughs and anecdotes, but it’ll never be the same because we’ve both changed, and our relationship has changed as well.

    After taking this journey, I’ve concluded that being assertive and setting boundaries is not as easy as it sounds. But it’s the only way to regain your sense of self, sanity, and self-love.

    What are the Benefits of Maintaining Boundaries?

    Boundaries are limits between us and other people that enable us to honor our feelings, wants, and needs and take good care of ourselves. We need to set boundaries because:

    • Boundaries offer protection against people who habitually do things that leave us feeling uncomfortable.
    • Correcting troublesome behavior and letting other people know what’s acceptable or not, where we stand, and what we are willing to tolerate drastically improves our sense of self.
    • Setting boundaries helps us trust ourselves and, in turn, trust others.
    • It helps us treat ourselves and others as equal with respect and dignity.
    • It teaches us what’s essential for us and gives us the courage to stand up for it.
    • It builds our confidence as we work on our assertiveness muscle.
    • Boundary-setting is generous to others because it allows them to grow and take responsibility for themselves, their actions, and their issues.

    So, if boundary-setting is such a good thing, what’s the problem?

    The problem is that it’s hard, especially for people who are not used to setting boundaries. It can make you question yourself and your intentions and turn your world topsy-turvy.

    Why Is Boundary-Setting So Difficult?

    Most people with weak boundaries:

    • Are not aware of their needs, and this takes lots of time and practice.
    • Are afraid to stand up for themselves.
    • Don’t believe that they deserve to have their boundaries recognized and honored.
    • Are afraid that people will think they are selfish.
    • Think it is wrong to think about themselves because of various cultural or religious influences.
    • Believe that what they want is unreasonable.

    How Do You Start Setting Boundaries?

    1. Take inventory.

    Have you ever been in a situation where you felt like you were being taken advantage of, taken for granted, or treated disrespectfully? When you feel any of these things, you need to ask yourself:

    • What are you feeling? Is it anger, hurt, betrayal?
    • What brought about those feelings? What did the other person do? Did they disregard your feelings or act dismissive? Did they cross a line you’d rather no one cross?
    • How did you react to the situation? Did you ignore it, make an excuse for them, or get angry and resentful but fake a smile?
    • Why did you tolerate this behavior and respond this way? What were you afraid of?

    So, the first step is being conscious of what happened and what you’re feeling.

    This is essential because it helps you become aware of your needs, wants, and limits; notice when someone is neglecting or violating them; and reflect on how you usually respond—and why.

    2. Be honest and courageous.

    The second step is being honest about what you would like to do in the situation and reflecting so you can find the fairest and healthiest way to respond.

    Then comes the hardest part: finding the courage to act even if it may displease, anger, or irritate the other person.

    Everything inside you might scream that this is a mistake. You may feel scared, anxious, and even unsafe speaking up. But remember that ignoring the issue is not a solution because you will just end up feeling resentful if you continually avoid saying what you really want to say.

     What No One Tells You About Setting Boundaries

    1. You may feel guilty.

    Somewhere down the line, you may have learned that your needs, feelings, and wants are less important than others’. When you start making changes, it may feel like you are embarking on a journey of selfishness and betraying the very core of your being.

    2. You will likely make mistakes.

    You are learning a new skill, and mistakes are bound to happen. You may overreact to minor issues or fail to communicate your feelings and needs accurately or clearly. There’s no right or wrong here, only a learning curve. You can always change your decision or apologize later if you realize that your decision wasn’t the best.

    3. It sometimes feels like you are at war with yourself.

    To some extent, that’s what this is. A war with what you once believed to be true but isn’t anymore, a war against your default responses.

    4.  It is not easy.

    It will sometimes mean wrong turns, slip-ups, and lost relationships. But if you’re honest with yourself, you may realize that those relationships were already dead to begin with; you were trying to nurture doomed relationships because you were afraid to let them go.

    5. It makes you confront demons you didn’t know you had.

    Your insecurity, your feelings of low self-worth, your fear of being rejected or alone—all this and more bubbles to the surface when you get honest about why you’ve struggled with boundary-setting and start pushing past your blocks.

    6. It takes all you have, tears you up, and breaks you down.

    But when it’s all done and over, you build strength, wisdom, and trust in yourself. You learn to give your feelings more credence, knowing they’re an internal signal that something is off and you need to investigate them further so you can decide what’s really best for you.

    So yes, boundaries can be life-changing, but the emotional upheaval that often accompanies them isn’t for the fainthearted. Changing yourself, getting out of your comfort zone, and doing what is right for you can trigger your reptilian brain, which craves safety, making you feel like you are doing something wrong. Arnold Bennett rightly says that all change, even for the better, is accompanied by discomfort.

    Deepak Chopra said that “All great changes are preceded by chaos.” I believe the benefits of maintaining boundaries make the chaos worth it.

  • If You’re in a Painful Relationship and Considering Estrangement…

    If You’re in a Painful Relationship and Considering Estrangement…

    “I understand the life around me better, not from love, which everyone acknowledges to be a great teacher, but from estrangement, to which nobody has attributed the power of reinforcing insight.” ~Nirad C. Chaudhuri

    I was brought up to understand that family is family.  So I have naturally given great weight to the importance of family bonds. However, what happens when a familial bond breaks? Do you commit yourself to holding on despite the cost, or do you acknowledge the damage and take the necessary steps to sever the tie?

    Personally, I sit somewhere in the middle. Any important relationship deserves an extended amount of effort, patience, understanding, and forgiveness in rebuilding. However, you can only do so much, and there comes a point when it could be in everyone’s best interests to walk away.

    I speak from personal experience. I’ve been estranged twice in my lifetime. Once from my father, which was my choice, and the other time from my sibling, who ultimately made the decision to walk away; I guess I just dotted the i’s and crossed the t’s on it.

    Let me be clear, neither estrangement was a wonderful experience. The process of severing ties is heartbreaking, regardless of the situation that led to the estrangement. It hurts when you feel you’ve been rejected, and it hurts when you know you’re rejecting someone.

    But when it’s the right decision for you, and once the hurt abates somewhat, there is a sense of relief. Although you may never feel happy about it, you’ll feel happier overall for the steps you took in protecting yourself and your well-being.

    As with all life events there is opportunity to learn and reflect…

    In hindsight, there are certain actions I should have taken before the relationships ended, especially when it came to my sibling. Perhaps taking these actions could have prevented the outcome? Who knows? Regardless, these behaviors would certainly have helped me heal quicker even if the end was inevitable.

    If you find yourself struggling in a relationship with a family member—or any type of relationship for that matter—these five suggested actions can help.

    1. Be yourself.

    This is what I kick myself the most about when I think about my estrangement from my sibling. I was never myself. I was always trying to impress them and seek their approval.

    You see, my sibling was a lot older than me; by the time I was two they had already left home. Visits were few and far between, and when my sibling married, there were tensions between my family and their spouse.

    Everything had to be done to keep them happy. We had to tread on eggshells around them to maintain the relationship, and that stuck with me well into adulthood. I believed If I stepped out of line then the relationship would end. So I said what I thought they wanted to hear and acted in the way I felt I needed to act.

    This led to a lot of resentment on my part. No matter how hard I tried, I never felt fully accepted.

    As I saw this would soon impact my own children, I knew things had to change.

    I stopped kowtowing, and within a year they had broken away, communication basically stopped. The hardest thing was knowing that all those years I had presented an unauthentic version of me. I felt I had let myself down. What might have happened if I had just been myself?

    It can be challenging to be yourself when it’s a family member you want to please, but you can’t let the labels they place on you define you. Be who you really are. Yes, you might be rejected, but being someone you’re not is exhausting and likely to lead to more unhappiness. You’re the one who has to live with yourself after all—it’s better to love the person you are!

    If I had my time again, I would just be me, and I encourage everyone to adopt this approach too.

    2. Communicate.

    Relationships all too easily break down when there is a lack of communication. Good communication builds your connection, helps you deal with potential issues early, and allows both parties to have their needs met.

    Too often, we end up shouting, judging, criticizing, or not communicating at all. This isn’t a recipe for a healthy relationship.

    In his book Non-violent Communication, Marshall Rosenberg sets out a framework he created which allows people to express their needs and make requests without any negative behaviors. Using this method can make it easier to ask for what you want, and it also gives you a better chance of actually getting it. It’s a technique I wish I had known a lot earlier, but one that I use now to great effect.

    It’s a four-step process:

    Convert judgements to observations.

    So rather than saying, “You never listen to me” (quite an emotionally charged statement), you would say, “I see you checking your phone when I try to talk to you,” which is more factual and less likely to trigger a defensive response.

    Say how you feel.

    Express how you’re feeling without blame or judgment. Instead of saying, “I really needed you and you weren’t there,” express your feelings like this: “I was feeling really alone.” This is a powerful way of expressing ourselves and taking ownership of our feelings.

    State your needs as they relate to you and your values.

    So rather than saying, “You need to change how you treat me,” you would say, “I have a need to be respected as a human being.”

    Ask for what you want.

    Start with “Would you be willing/like to…?” For example, “Would you be willing to put your phone down when we have a conversation?” Framing your request in this way gives the other person the freedom to say no, meaning they don’t feel forced or pressured and in turn more likely to say yes.

    Here’s an example of the four-step process all put together:

    “I see you checking your phone when I try to talk to you. I feel frustrated. I value being listened to. Would you be willing to put down your phone when we have a conversation?”

    3. Stand strong (even when you’re scared).

    As a recovering people-pleaser, I used to shy away from standing up for myself. I would choose to agree rather than confront. Life was more peaceful when I just smiled and nodded. But this is not a healthy strategy.

    With my father, I needed him to acknowledge and take responsibility for his actions. With each attempt to broach the subject of his behavior toward my mother and me, there would be denial, false accusations, and even aggression. Fear would make me back down.

    But you have to stand strong, even when you’re scared. If an issue is important to you, don’t allow for it to be brushed under the carpet to fester. Facing issues head on allows you the opportunity to resolve them. It provides you (and them) with clear boundaries and makes repeat behaviors less likely.

    4. Accept your part.

    Nobody is perfect. Relationships are two-person territory. It would be so easy for me to look back and put everything on my sibling or on my father, but that would be inaccurate. I have to accept my share of accountability too. We all do.

    I should have spoken up. I should have acted differently in certain circumstances. I should have been honest about how I was feeling. People aren’t mind readers after all. This isn’t about accepting all of the blame; it’s just about acknowledging your part. It helps you grow as a person.

    5. Forgive and let go.

    Firstly, you need to forgive yourself. You’re a human being after all, we all make mistakes. Show yourself the same compassion you readily show to others.

    Secondly, when you’ve had time (which may include therapy) and feel capable, start to forgive the person, even if you’re now estranged. This doesn’t mean you have to forget what happened but more allow the anger, resentment, or any other emotions that don’t serve you to be lifted from your heart.

    I find writing a gratitude letter (listing what you found good about them and your time together, plus anything you’re grateful to them for) really helpful in the process of forgiving and letting go. It helps to refocus on the good side of the person (and your relationship) rather than the negative.

    Remember, we feel hurt because we loved and cared deeply, two important components of a happy life. Letting go allows us to move forward to what is right for us. Use what happened to personally grow and build a better life.

    Every life event, good or bad, has something to teach us…

    I’ve grown so much from my own experiences and use those learnings to positively affect all the other relationships in my life. There is always hope for reconciliation, but for now, I’m at peace with where I’m at, and I hope you will be too.

  • 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.

  • How to Know If You Should Speak Your Mind

    How to Know If You Should Speak Your Mind

    “Integrity isn’t a morality issue; it’s an energy issue.”  ~Gay Hendricks

    One of the biggest questions I, and many other people I know, face as we go about our days is this: When is it worthwhile to speak our minds, and when should we keep our thoughts to ourselves?

    There are usually both good reasons and bad reasons for speaking out or remaining silent, so how do we know which is which? It all comes down to our own energy, and that is something we can learn how to discern.

    Integrity means a feeling of wholeness, or being of one piece. For me, the sensation of integrity is one of stillness and calm inside. When I’m upset by something (out of integrity) I feel a buzzing, restless energy in my body, as my thoughts race around and around, thinking about what happened and what I want to say back. This is not the time to say something! So the first rule of thumb in most situations is:

    1. Wait until you feel clear.

    Unless you or someone else is in imminent danger, your first reaction will probably do more harm than good, because your energy is so swirled up you can’t see what’s really there.

    Usually I love old sayings and aphorisms for the wisdom they contain, but there is one that I vehemently disagree with: Don’t let the sun go down on your anger. Honestly, in nine cases out of ten, the better advice is: Sleep on it. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve gone to bed angry and in the morning could hardly remember what the fuss was about.

    When your energy is swirled up and agitated, it’s like a muddy pool that needs time to settle. Once it’s clear again, you can see if there’s still something there that needs to be cleaned out.

    The ego (your “small self”) is always on the defensive and ready to over-react when it senses a threat. You can be sure that your ego is activated when you feel that urge to lash out and say potentially hurtful things. It’s only trying to protect you, but often the damage it does to relationships (and your own well-being) is lasting. This is why my second rule of thumb is another aphorism:

    2. “Least said, soonest mended.”

    You can’t un-say or un-write something you have said or written (once you’ve sent it), so err on the side of caution. Don Miguel Ruíz, in The Four Agreements, says that we need to be “impeccable” with our words, because they are essentially like magic spells we cast, with power to do both good and evil.

    In my experience, the ego tends to over-explain and over-justify. There are many reasons for this: maybe you want to show how much you were hurt by what the other person did, maybe you want to elicit an apology or an admission that you were right, maybe you’re taking advantage of the current situation to bring up old grievances with that person (or give voice to free-floating anger that isn’t even related to them!).

    The key here—again—is to pay close attention to your own energy. Often we begin a conversation with calm energy and the best of intentions, but then find it spiraling out of control.

    When you feel a tightening in your chest, or your breath coming faster, or your voice rising a bit in volume, it’s time to back down. This is a tricky place, because it’s tempting to keep barreling forward. Sometimes you can calm your energy enough by simply slowing your speech and breathing way down, taking long pauses, and focusing your attention in a soft way on the other person. (We tend to get blinders on when our energy is swirled up.)

    Say less than you think you should. This is particularly helpful when dealing with a narcissist, who will try to use your words against you or argue you out of your feelings.

    If you have to walk away, try not to do it as a punishment or rejection or manipulation of the other person—simply admit that you’re having a hard time keeping your own energy in control and commit to returning when you feel clear again.

    This isn’t to say that you can’t express strong feelings when necessary. Ironically, you will be far more forceful and effective in conveying them when your energy is clear.

    Some people, especially women who have been encouraged to always hide or deny their anger, feel that they “need” to lose control in order to confront someone else. Unfortunately, this almost always backfires and doesn’t produce real change. The sad truth is that when you lose control of yourself, you turn your power over to someone else.

    So let’s re-orient for a moment: What does it feel like when your energy is “clear?” Remember, we called this a feeling of integrity or wholeness. It’s a feeling of being solid and grounded in your truth. (Notice that I didn’t say the truth: We can never really know what the truth is for another person, but we are always on solid ground when we speak our own truth.) Because the small self is so pesky and persistent in muddying up the waters, my third guideline for speaking up is:

    3. Check your baggage at the door.

     I really had to use this rule recently when I confronted my sister about her new boyfriend. I waited quite a while to see if what I was sensing was truly something that needed saying or was simply my own ego being sad that it was “losing” something important (my sister’s time and attention). It’s easy to fool yourself that you’re acting altruistically, when in reality your main motivation is your own perceived wants and needs.

    In reality, these hidden agendas (and our underlying energy) usually speak quite loudly! People pick up on them, consciously or unconsciously, and they only weaken our arguments and put others on the defensive.

    On the other hand, when we speak from a clear and grounded place, that energy is read as well, and it allows the other person to hear even very sensitive and raw communications with an open heart.

    One way to check for hidden agendas is to ask yourself: What outcome am I hoping to achieve by speaking up?

    This turned out to be an important distinction for me. When I first thought about talking with A., my motivation was to convince her to break up with the guy. (That would have made me happy.)

    As I sat with the situation for a while, I realized that she truly had the right to her own opinion, and that she might have viable reasons for continuing the relationship. When I ultimately did speak with her, I acknowledged that and didn’t try to “convince” her to follow my advice. I simply told her my fears and observations and left it there.

    But what made me think I should say anything in the first place? That brings me to my final guideline:

    4. Don’t ignore your gut.

     As easy as it is to get into trouble by speaking up when we shouldn’t, it’s equally tempting to squash our instincts to say something if we think it will be awkward, unwelcome, or “pointless” to do so. This comes down to energy as well.

    Sometimes when we choose to wait, our energy clears and the situation resolves by itself. (Yay!) Sometimes, we continue to feel upset or to ruminate about the situation. This is the time to check our own baggage. We have to carefully and honestly assess how much of our upset feelings are due to our own issues, and deal with them first. If you have done this honestly and you’re still troubled, that is the time to speak up.

    In the case of my sister, aside from my personal sadness, I truly felt that she was getting in over her head with a narcissist. This put me in a bind, because every time she would talk to me about him, I felt inauthentic and upset for hiding my true feelings.

    After we spoke, my energetic quandary was resolved, even though the situation remained the same. She chose to stay with him but promised to be careful and go slowly. I no longer had to hide my feelings (which was a relief), but I also gave up trying to change her behavior and worked on my own issues about the situation instead.

    —

    Learning how to understand and monitor my own energetic integrity has helped me in all aspects of life, beyond just communication (although that’s pretty important!). Deciding whether to speak or not to speak, and what to say when we do, is an ongoing issue throughout every day, and energy is the key to communication that truly achieves what we want it to achieve, with the least potential for harm.

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

    Confrontation Can Be Hard, But It’s Worth It

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

    Ultimately, confrontation will probably improve your life.

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

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

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

  • Learning How to Confront Someone When You’re a People-Pleaser

    Learning How to Confront Someone When You’re a People-Pleaser

    “The more room you give yourself to express your true thoughts and feelings, the more room there is for your wisdom to emerge.” ~Marianne Williamson

    I have always been a people-pleaser, a trait that on the surface seems positive. Like many of us, I want people to like me, and I do my best to make them feel loved. But when someone is angry with me or feels I’ve hurt them in some way, no matter how insignificant or fleeting that anger or pain is, it crushes me.

    Over the years, I learned to value other people’s happiness and expectations over my own. To be honest, I didn’t know how to speak up for myself, I’d been trying to be “likable” for so long. This was especially true at work. If my boss criticized me, I felt I was letting her down, and worked diligently to earn praise.

    I became dependent on accolades to feel worthy, but this meant I also plummeted into despair when I didn’t measure up to expectations.

    A couple of years ago, I was working at a non-profit with a group of people I truly respected and admired. It was my dream job—I was a publicist for a company that was doing good things in the world, not just trying to make money. I loved this job, and worked hard.

    Eventually, I was offered a promotion—a management position, overseeing staff and developing strategy. I was thrilled! This was a tangible acknowledgement of how hard I’d worked, how valuable I’d become.

    There were strings attached. The department heads wanted me to continue doing my old job since they didn’t have the budget to hire another person.

    I was flattered that my bosses wanted to give me more responsibilities (proving my worth). But I also knew the organization was taking advantage of me by not hiring someone to help, and this was difficult for me to accept and address directly. If they really liked and respected me, how could they think this was a fair offer? I was asked to do two jobs for the price of one.

    It gutted me. After all my hard work, I knew I deserved more.

    But these are good people, I reminded myself. Surely there’s something I’m overlooking. Am I unworthy of more?

    I felt my self-esteem plummet.

    It took a few days for me to realize I had to stand up for myself. Nobody else was going to do it. My bosses, who I’d come to see as friends, were taking advantage of me and my people-pleasing approach.

    To make things worse, this job was my livelihood. I didn’t know how quickly I could get another job, so it was frightening to think about confronting them. How would it end? Would they fire me if I turned them down? How could I support myself?

    I was terrified, but I knew I had to say something. Even if I struggled to find another job, I knew this was a test of my self-esteem. I couldn’t live with myself if I’d just gone along with their plans, pretending it was okay. I had to rise to the occasion no matter how uncomfortable I felt.

    I was trembling as I met with my supervisors, the four of us sitting around a table in a sterile conference room. I thought these familiar faces were my advocates, but now I saw that I had to advocate for myself.

    I talked about my responsibilities, how hard I’d worked, how much I loved the organization and the people. I asked that they hire another person and offer me a decent raise, or I wouldn’t accept the new position.

    “I suggest you reconsider,” one of them said. “It’s a great opportunity for you.”

    I was shocked. An opportunity?

    “I need more help if you want me to stay,” I insisted.

    “We’re offering you a great career move. Are you saying you don’t want a promotion?”

    I felt numb. They were trying to wear me down, to make me feel like this was a positive. But I knew better. I didn’t want to work two jobs when the hours were long enough, and they refused to negotiate.

    When I realized I’d have to accept their terms or quit, the fear kicked into high gear. Would I be able to get another job in this economy? How would I support myself? It was my ego shouting, trying to take control and remind me that I needed this job, and this paycheck. But my gut knew better. I didn’t “need” to stay, and a paycheck wasn’t worth my sense of self. I knew that it might take a while, but I could find another job.

    When our meeting ended, I walked back to my desk and typed up my resignation. Nobody stopped me or tried to convince me to stay when I announced my departure.

    Strangely, I was relieved. By deciding to confront the situation and my supervisors directly, I’d let go of my burning desire to live up to their unreasonable expectations. Instead, I saw myself and the situation more clearly.

    If they weren’t willing to see my value, I had to honor it myself, even if it meant confronting people I liked and admired. I learned that confrontation, though still difficult for me to do, was just as healthy as being kind.

    Soon after I quit, I was able to find work. In fact, leaving that job opened up opportunities I wasn’t aware of, because I hadn’t been looking. I now have a steady stream of freelance assignments, as well as more time to dedicate to other passions of mine, like traveling, hiking, and writing a novel.

    Here’s what I’ve learned about dealing with conflict:

    Asserting myself is a healthy practice.

    We all deserve an equal playing field. When I speak up for myself, it means I’m honoring my needs, too. When I’m going to extremes trying to please others, I get resentful, whether I realize it in the moment or not. Over time, this resentment interferes with my relationships. When I create healthy boundaries with someone in my life, I’m doing both of us a favor.

    It might be uncomfortable in the moment.

    Confronting someone is never easy, especially a friend, family member, or someone in a position of power over you (like a boss). It might make me squirm and feel terrible in the moment, but in the long run, I have felt such relief. I’ve taken the silent burden off of me, so I can feel more peaceful. The positives outweigh the negatives.

    I must look past my fear.

    When we face big risks in life like potential unemployment or the end of a relationship, fear kicks into high gear. When fear overwhelms me, I like to step back and look at the situation from an outsider’s perspective.

    If a good friend told me she was going through the same experience, what would I say? No doubt I’d support her in advocating for herself, so I should take my own advice. No matter the result, it’s worth the risk to honor ourselves.

    It is impossible to please everyone anyway.

    This is a hard lesson for me. I have a deep desire for people to understand who I am; that what I do and say comes from a good place. However, this isn’t realistic. There are always going to be people who don’t like me, who misunderstand me. It is not my job to make them feel differently about me; that is completely up to them. What I can do is treat people with respect and kindness and let go of the outcome.

    Confrontation isn’t about hurting someone else; it’s about standing in my power.

    The ability to confront ultimately comes down to an issue of self-esteem. Because I was trying to gain acceptance and love, I was at the mercy of external circumstances to feel worthy. Now I see that I have to accept my own worthiness no matter what.

    We are all worthy. We are all lovable. And we are all responsible for creating boundaries to honor our worth. This I know is true.

  • How to Stop Being a Doormat and Start Speaking Up

    How to Stop Being a Doormat and Start Speaking Up

    Woman Covering Mouth

    “Speak your mind even if your voice shakes.” ~Maggie Kuhn

    For years I was that person who needed to know what would happen in the near future. I wasn’t content with being in the moment and letting things unfold naturally because it made me anxious.

    Knowing, or at least thinking I knew, was a way for me to relax and reassure myself that nothing was going to unexpectedly pop up. The idea of a problem spontaneously arising made me so nervous and anxious that I’d become a doormat instead of speaking up and saying what I really thought.

    For me, a “problem” was somebody who threatened my peaceful near future and, as a result, I would have to figure out a way to subdue them without disrupting my peace too much. Often, I would have to step outside my comfort zone of being a wallflower and deal with people in a way that wouldn’t cause too much hassle.

    I suppose you could say I tried to categorize the people around me according to their mood. In short, I tried to control the uncontrollable—human nature.

    I started to obsess about my friends falling out with me. I’d say goodbye to them and spend an hour afterward worrying that they’d be angry with me and wouldn’t speak to me the next day.

    It was exhausting and constant; I would convince myself that one friend was okay with me and then I’d start to doubt another friend. I remember one time particularly well because to this day I still laugh at how ridiculous it all was, though at the time it was really stressful.

    I had this one friend who started to develop an attitude; where she was once reserved and not confrontational, she was now argumentative and volatile.

    Although I didn’t argue with her, I’d seen her arguing with our other friends and she suddenly seemed really intimidating, definitely not someone I’d want to get on the wrong side of. The fact that she’d sometimes start an argument for no good reason contributed to my fear that she might get angry with me.

    I did everything to keep the peace, but she was prone to spontaneous moods.

    II remember looking at her one day and realizing that I didn’t care if she stopped speaking to me; it seemed ridiculous that I’d wasted so much energy on something so silly.

    When she went off in a mood, I let her go and stayed with our other friends. And the crazy thing is that she came back to me asking what was wrong. Everyone was so used to me being the peacekeeper that when I stopped keeping the peace, they started seeing me as someone who had an opinion instead of the quiet doormat.

    It’s amazing what happens when you stop overthinking and worrying about how things will turn out. When you speak your mind, you send a message to the people around you that you have a voice and you’re not afraid to use it.

    Obviously, I can’t speak for everyone, but I respect someone who says what they’re thinking rather than what they think everyone wants them to say—even if I totally disagree with them.

    Nothing in life is certain, and yet at some point we’ve all tried to desperately cling to something that we’ve wanted to stay the same. Some of us have even compromised our integrity just to hold onto the idea that we’re sure of something.

    There is power in being uncertain and allowing life to flow naturally, responding rather than controlling. When you embrace uncertainty, you respond to the present moment rather than following a plan involving everyone else that only you know about.

    Need help embracing uncertainty so you can start speaking up?

    1. Lose expectations.

    I look at expectations as agreements between two people that only one person knows about. By this I mean you may think you know how a person is going to act—you may even hope—but at the end of the day, nothing is certain.

    Don’t let the thought of “what if?” stop you from speaking up if something bothers you. Let it go; what will be will be.

    2. Follow the Two-Year Rule.

    This means that if you’re worried about a situation and it’s making you anxious, ask yourself whether it will matter in two years.

    Think back a few years to all those times you’ve worried about speaking your mind and being authentic. Are those situations still affecting you today? Assuming you can even remember them, I’m betting they aren’t.

    3. Remember who’s important to you.

    Maybe a colleague is doing something that annoys you or seems to have an issue with you. And you’re stressing about sorting things out because they’re a colleague and you have to work with them and it could get awkward and blah blah blah.

    The truth is, nothing will change unless you do. How important is this person? If you do nothing, things will stay the same, so why not try a different approach and see what happens?

    4. Prepare to disagree.

    It will happen; it’s not all smooth sailing when you decide to stop dancing to the beat of someone else’s drum. Just remain calm and deal with those who are disagreeing with you in a mature manner, even if they’re being immature.

    It’s hard at first, but it pays off when they realize that you don’t have to hide behind shouting to get your point across. Sticking to your guns is like giving yourself a hug; you feel amazing afterward, whatever happens.

    And one last bonus tip: Make time for yourself. When you take the time to relax and unwind, it can do wonders for your confidence, so you won’t fall back into the habit of trying to control everything and not focusing on yourself.

    Woman covering mouth image via Shutterstock

  • 5 Effective Guidelines for Fair Fighting in a Conflicted World

    5 Effective Guidelines for Fair Fighting in a Conflicted World

    “The greatest obstacle to connecting with our joy is resentment.” ~Pema Chodron

    It happened today. Two minutes after announcing I was on lunch my coworker failed to pick up a call, letting it roll to my line. I angrily picked up the receiver and hustled through the call as fast as I could.

    As soon as the call ended, my coworker apologized, and in a voice that almost fooled me as well, I answered, “That’s okay!”

    It wasn’t okay. It upset me. I would really appreciate it if it didn’t happen again in the future.

    These are all clear indications that it’s time to establish clearer boundaries.

    Throughout my life, I’ve had the opportunity to explore healthy and unhealthy forms of confrontation.

    At best, a confrontation addresses specific behaviors, one at a time, and does not involve attacking the person’s character, in an environment that is comfortable for all parties. A worst-case scenario involves flat out berating someone, or a sudden attack after frustration after frustration has boiled you over the edge.

    I’ve gone both routes, and I can tell you the better prepared everyone is the better the conversation will go.

    Oftentimes, I find we avoid direct conflict management at all costs. Our first route is usually to find someone who knows those involved and complain. Sometimes this is called venting, but be aware that venting can easily turn into gossiping.

    Sometimes there is a person smack dab in the middle of the conflict, and she usually gets to hear both sides and mediate, never actually bringing the two of you together. This usually doesn’t help the situation. Your friend will become exhausted and overwhelmed and start to think you’re both being ridiculous.

    This kind of proxy communication often puts the middleman in a position vulnerable to breaching confidentiality. If anything, it will only prolong and fuel the conflict.

    If we don’t talk to someone who knows the other party, we are probably talking to someone who doesn’t. Be careful, these people are usually listening for their own entertainment and will do little to help you resolve the situation. There are people who will genuinely listen and try to help. Just make sure your listener is one of these people.

    Even when you find someone genuine to listen, he may soon grow impatient and be able to recite your own accusations for you. Because he doesn’t know who you’re mad at personally, he may soon realize his own lack of ability to resolve the situation as an outsider or may feel uncomfortable judging someone he doesn’t know. Now there’s one person left to speak with: The person who upset you!

    Confrontation and boundary setting take planning, consideration, and courage.

    The best advice my father’s ever given me is to write out what you want to say before you say it if you think your emotions will blur your true intentions. The best advice my mother’s ever given me is that we teach people how to treat us. I think both can be effective insights for conflict management. They have influenced my personal set of guidelines for effective confrontations:

    1. Never attack the person’s background, personality, or parents when confronting someone.

    Not only will this be extremely hurtful, it will distract you both from the true issue. This is actually a logical fallacy called “Ad hominen” in the academia of law; telling Susie because she rear-ended you with her child in the car she must be a bad mother is not only rude, it’s illogical.

    2. Address each behavior or event separately.

    Listing all the ways someone has let you down will overwhelm them and feel like an attack. Try by starting with what has upset you the most. You may find that the smaller details don’t need to be addressed or somehow tie in to the main upset.

    3. If you are able, try to think where your friend may say you failed.

    Having this wisdom going in will keep you from looking like a jerk when you vehemently deny your own shortcomings because you’re shocked that he has the audacity to actually be mad at you!

    4. Use feeling talk.

    “I felt very hurt when you said you were glad she cheated on me.” As opposed to: “For the record, you said you were happy she cheated on me, and that makes you a jerk!” The wisdom behind this is: 1) No one has the right to challenge the way you feel, and 2) By owning your feelings you keep the focus on your needs and away from attacking them.

    5. Know that when it’s over, it’s over.

    A mutual agreement must be made at the end of every attempt at conflict resolution. Either you decide to go your separate ways or you will devise a new set of conditions for your friendship, also known as boundaries.

    You and your friend may have different viewpoints as to where to go from here, and that’s okay. What’s important is to respect each other’s newfound boundaries.

    Down the road, chances are you and your friend will both feel a little differently about the situation. If this is the case, it may be worthwhile to revisit your feelings together, but only if you both feel safe and willing to do so. In all other cases, it is best to avoid bringing the issue to light over and over again.

    My guidelines have not only been influenced by my parents, but also by my personal experience with breaking each of these rules. Most likely, you won’t fight fairly every time you argue with someone. However, I’ve found that using the tips above creates a better experience in a conflicted world for everyone.

  • Dealing with Conflict: Speak Up Before You Blow Up

    Dealing with Conflict: Speak Up Before You Blow Up

    “To be beautiful means to be yourself. You don’t need to be accepted by others. You need to accept yourself.” ~Thich Nhat Hanh

    “I aim to please. It’s okay, no worries. Please don’t worry, its no big deal.” These are some things I’ve said when interacting with others. The truth was that it wasn’t okay, and it was inconveniencing me.

    I could never voice this to people. What if they didn’t like me? Growing up I learned to be polite and to respect my elders, so I considered it rude to tell someone that what they are asking for or what they are doing is actually not okay. I also didn’t want to create any unnecessary problems or conflict.

    I always seemed to end up doing things I didn’t want to do or helping people with things that they should do themselves. I would get frustrated and annoyed and end up taking it out on those people who are close to me. Why did I do this?

    I was sitting in an aisle seat on an airplane once when a man asked me if I wouldn’t mind swapping with him. His friend was sitting next to me, and he wanted to talk to him. The problem was that this guy’s original seat was near the back and was a middle seat.

    I didn’t want to do it, and yet I did. I reluctantly smiled and said, “Sure, no worries.” I then sat in the middle seat on the flight between two very large passengers, feeling cramped and annoyed. This is when it all started going wrong.

    It never rains but it pours. The passenger in the window seat wanted to go to the bathroom, so there was a lot of climbing in and out of the seats. I just smiled and said, “No problem.”

    The meal cart arrived, and because we were at the back, they had run out of the vegetarian choice, so I had nothing to eat. I just said, “Not to worry.”

    My bag was in the compartment above my original seat, so I couldn’t just stand up and get my book. The guy next to me was reading the paper, and it draped into my space. I couldn’t really say anything, because, as you know, reading a newspaper in the confines of an airplane is difficult, and he was trying.

    The other guy next to me was hogging the middle arm rest. My justification was that he was a big guy and he was cramped, shame.

    I was fuming inside because I did not stand up for myself and for what I wanted. I started blaming the guy who was sitting in my original seat for how I was feeling. If he had just stayed in his seat then none of this would have happened. This was the story of my life.  (more…)