Tiny Buddha

Tag: empathy

  • Why Listening Matters More Than Giving Advice (A Barbershop Lesson)

    Why Listening Matters More Than Giving Advice (A Barbershop Lesson)

    “Most people do not listen with the intent to understand; they listen with the intent to reply.” ~Stephen R. Covey

    I used to think running a barbershop was all about haircuts, schedules, and keeping clients happy. I measured success by the number of chairs filled, how quickly we moved through the day, and whether everything ran smoothly. Efficiency felt like the most important thing.

    Then one afternoon, a moment with a customer changed everything.

    Mr. Hicks, a regular, came in looking unusually quiet. He slumped in my chair, barely making eye contact, and gave only short, mumbled answers when I tried to make small talk. Normally, I would have filled the silence, tried to keep him talking, or offered advice. But that day, I paused. I simply listened. I let him sit in silence as I worked, resisting the urge to speak unnecessarily or try to “fix” anything.

    Minutes later, he began to share struggles he had been carrying for months—tensions at work, family challenges, the weight of constant exhaustion. By the time I finished his haircut, he looked lighter, calmer, almost relieved.

    I realized I hadn’t needed to give advice. I hadn’t needed to solve his problems. I had only given him my attention. That day, I learned a lesson I carry with me every time I sit behind the barber chair: listening is a gift, patience is a practice, and presence can heal in ways words sometimes cannot.

    This lesson didn’t just apply to Mr. Hicks. Over time, I began noticing similar moments with other clients, apprentices, and even friends and family.

    A young apprentice, struggling to perfect his techniques, came in one morning looking defeated. Instead of correcting him immediately, I stepped back, watched, and let him try on his own. When he finally turned to me for guidance, the lesson became his own. The joy on his face was more rewarding than any praise I could have offered.

    I’ve come to understand that patience isn’t just about waiting. It’s about presence. It’s about fully engaging in the moment, without rushing to the next task. In a barbershop, it’s easy to feel pressured—clients waiting, appointments lined up, every second seeming valuable. But slowing down and giving someone your full attention creates connection in a way speed never can.

    One afternoon, I faced a particularly challenging situation. A client came in visibly frustrated and tense. Every suggestion I made seemed to irritate him further.

    I could have taken offense or brushed him off, but I tried a different approach. I listened not just to his words but to the subtle cues: the tone of his voice, the tension in his shoulders, the hesitation in his movements.

    Slowly, he began to relax, and by the time I finished, he was calmer, smiling, and expressing gratitude. That experience reinforced that sometimes, people need more than advice. They need acknowledgment and space to be heard.

    I’ve also carried these lessons beyond the shop. With friends, family, and even strangers, I try to pause before responding, asking myself whether I am truly listening or just waiting to reply. I’ve noticed that when I give people room to share openly, relationships deepen and grow more authentic.

    Running a barbershop has taught me humility. Not every story is easy to hear, and not every challenge can be solved with words or actions. But being present, patient, and genuinely attentive is a form of service that often matters more than technical skill. I’ve learned that my role isn’t always to fix problems but to create a safe space where people feel seen, understood, and valued.

    There have been moments of personal growth too. Early on, I struggled with impatience, rushing through tasks, wanting instant results, and missing the subtle cues from those around me. By paying attention to the human side of my work, I’ve learned to slow down, notice details, and respond thoughtfully rather than react impulsively. This patience has spilled over into other areas of my life—how I manage stress, handle conflict, and nurture relationships.

    I’ve also discovered that listening can transform the listener as much as the speaker. Each story I hear challenges me to see the world from a different perspective. I’ve developed empathy I never knew I had, realizing that everyone carries burdens and struggles silently, searching for someone willing to simply acknowledge them. This awareness has made me more compassionate, not just in the shop, but in every interaction.

    Sometimes, the lessons come in unexpected ways. I remember a shy teenager who came in for his first haircut. He was nervous, almost silent, and seemed unsure of how to interact. I spoke less, observed more, and let him get comfortable.

    By the end of the session, he was laughing, joking, and sharing stories. That simple act of patience, giving him room to open up, reminded me that growth often happens quietly, in small, unassuming moments.

    Through all of this, I’ve realized that patience and listening are not passive acts. They are active choices we make every day. They require mindfulness, attention, and the willingness to put another person’s experience before our own need to act or respond. Running a barbershop taught me that these choices, repeated over time, build trust, deepen relationships, and foster genuine human connection.

    If there’s one takeaway I can share, it’s this: slow down, be present, and listen. Whether in a barber’s chair, a living room, or a workplace, giving someone your full attention is a rare and valuable gift.

    You don’t need special training or expertise, just the willingness to be patient, notice, and understand. The lessons you learn, and the growth you experience, will stay with you long after the conversation ends.

  • How Avoiding Painful Emotions Can Lead to a Smaller Life

    How Avoiding Painful Emotions Can Lead to a Smaller Life

    “Being cut off from our own natural self-compassion is one of the greatest impairments we can suffer.” ~Gabor Mate

    Most of us avoid experiences not necessarily because we don’t like them or want them, but because we don’t want to feel how we will feel when we go through that experience.

    Our lives become altered by the emotions we don’t want to feel because we don’t want to move toward the thing that could bring strong emotions like fear, shame, sadness, or disappointment.

    We don’t want to go to that party because we’ll probably feel awkward and embarrassed.

    We don’t want to chase that work opportunity in case we feel disappointed if it doesn’t work out.

    We don’t want to take that trip because it might feel scary.

    We don’t want to slow down our busy lives because it feels too terrifying to contemplate emptiness and quiet.

    And then we get this idea about ourselves that this is just who we are. We are just:

    • People who don’t like parties
    • People who don’t travel
    • People who are fearful
    • People who are procrastinators
    • People who are just busy but intensely stressed

    We have this idea that this is just who we are, and therefore, this is how we should live. Perhaps we feel an anger or an anguish at being “this type of person.” Or maybe it just feels so unconscious, so embedded in our personality, that we don’t do certain things, that we accept it as just the way we are. 

    For most of my life I thought I was a nervous, cautious, fearful person. That was just how I was born. I thought I couldn’t change it, just like I couldn’t change my hair color or my deep love for mashed potatoes. It felt biological. Some people were brave and courageous; I was fearful and afraid of almost everything.

    I carried this with me, this idea about who I was, until I learned that emotions like fear and terror, anger and rage, and despair or sadness are just emotions that we need to learn how to be with. And if we don’t learn how to be with them, they can create an outsized influence on our lives—creating this idea about who we are and what kind of personality we have and causing us to avoid things that trigger these feelings.

    But what we are actually avoiding is not the experience, people, or things but the feelings we feel when we think about that thing or try to do it. The feelings around meeting new people, starting a new work project, being in the thick of the uncertainty of traveling, etc.

    It’s the feelings that are so difficult for us, not the experiences. So we start to make choices on what we are prepared to do and what we are not. We mold our lives around the things that generate emotions we don’t know how to be with. And we don’t head toward things we don’t like because of how we will feel and what we think will happen when we walk toward that feeling.

    Because our body isn’t used to really being with the emotion we are avoiding, or it has proved problematic in the past.

    This is because a lot of our emotions activate our survival network. And when our survival network has been activated, things feel urgent, maybe even dangerous, unsafe.

    Maybe we have sweaty palms, a feeling of doom in our bodies, a racing heart, a desire to escape quickly, panic, or even an abundance of uncontrollable rage.

    So our brain starts to associate this emotion with survival being activated. It’s like it labels “new work opportunity” or “traveling” as an undesirable or unsafe experience because of the emotions that generate around that experience.

    We just don’t know what to do with these emotions.

    Our brains say, “Don’t go near that! It’s dangerous!”

    So we become like a player in a video game, running around avoiding falling boulders, jumping over pits of snakes, maneuvering out of the way of giant fireballs.

    But what our brain perceives as threats are not actually threats but emotions it doesn’t know what to do with.

    The pits of snakes aren’t snakes but fear around traveling. Or the boulders are the fear of disappointment or despair. Avoiding the fireballs is trying to avoid shame.

    The harsh thing, though, is that even though we are trying to sensibly avoid these emotions, these survival reactions, we don’t get to avoid them completely.

    The shame, the fear, the rage, the terror—they are there in our body and popping up in other places. We can’t avoid them completely, and by trying to avoid them, we simply make our lives smaller and smaller and smaller.

    Are we doomed to spend our lives in avoidance mode?

    Do we just have to accept that some things are just  “too hard,” “too stressful,” “not for people like us”?

    No. Way.

    That is the really exciting thing about our brains. We have learned to be this way because of how we learned to deal with emotions. But that doesn’t mean we can’t learn a new way. That we can’t ‘rewire’ the responses we have learned.

    By working with my own fear, by learning how to be with it, I stopped feeling so scared about everything in my life. I totally changed how I saw myself.  I no longer believe myself to be a fearful, overly cautious person.

    I gave myself time to learn to be with the energy of the fear in a way that was so gentle and slow that it helped me to feel safe around the emotion in a way I never had before.

    I realized that the problem is not that we are avoiding our emotions on purpose; it’s that we don’t understand them.

    This is what is so hard about how so many of us learn to live our lives.

    We aren’t given the tools to work with our emotions (most of us aren’t anyway), and then we are cast out into the world to just ‘make a life.’

    Have good relationships!

    Be successful! Get a good job!

    Cope with work colleagues / clients / stressed-out bosses.

    Deal with grief, aging, health problems, loved ones dying!

    Be a good parent, even if your parents were a little shoddy, absent, authoritarian, unloving.

    How are we supposed to navigate the world when it generates so much emotion for us and we never learned how to deal with emotion? When we feel constantly pushed hither and thither either by our emotional reactions or other people’s?

    Awakening the act of self-compassion and empathy for the emotions we struggle with is one of the most powerful steps we can take when we start this journey.

    Deciding: Wow, I wasn’t given the tools to navigate the whole myriad of emotions that I encounter every day! And that is tough!

    Giving ourselves a little grace, a little tenderness, a little understanding around this is such a powerful step away from how we normally respond to emotional activation.

    Can we offer ourselves some kindness and understanding instead of blame and judgment? It makes sense I feel like this—I haven’t learned how to deal with emotions like shame, fear, grief, etc.

    Offering compassion in the face of strong emotional reactions is a powerful step because normally we are in the habit of trying to dismiss/justify/vent our feelings: I shouldn’t feel like this! It’s all their fault! I am such a terrible person! Everything is so terrifying! They made me angry!

    Instead, can we decide to start walking toward being on our own side? Can we accept the challenges we have faced with emotions? And instead of blaming and shaming ourselves, can we decide instead to move toward kindness, understanding, empathy, and compassion?

    When we allow our emotions to exist and meet them with empathy, creating a sense of internal safety around them, it’s much easier to support ourselves through experiences that might activate them.

  • Empathy Without Boundaries

    Empathy Without Boundaries

  • “Am I the Narcissist?” How to Tell If It’s You

    “Am I the Narcissist?” How to Tell If It’s You

    “Narcissism is voluntary blindness, an agreement not to look beneath the surface.” ~Sam Keen

    Have you ever found yourself wondering, “Am I the narcissist in this relationship?” If so, you’re not alone. This question can feel heavy and unsettling, especially if you’ve spent years tangled in a toxic dynamic. The more you try to figure things out, the more confusing it becomes.

    But here’s something to hold onto: The very fact that you’re asking this question is a sign that you probably aren’t narcissistic.

    Am I the Narcissist?

    Victims of narcissistic abuse often find themselves questioning their actions, replaying conversations, and overanalyzing their behavior. Meanwhile, the real narcissist rarely, if ever, stops to consider whether they might be at fault.

    Why? Because self-reflection is not in their nature. Narcissists are too wrapped up in protecting their fragile egos and carefully crafted personas to even entertain the idea that they might be the problem.

    So, if you’ve been second-guessing yourself, it’s time to stop. The very act of self-reflection shows that you’re capable of empathy and accountability—two traits a true narcissist lacks.

    My Story

    Throughout our thirty-year marriage, my ex-husband would, out of nowhere, accuse me of cheating. It was absurd. I wasn’t cheating—never had, never would. But time and again, he’d cast doubt on my every move, picking apart my behavior as if it were proof of something sinister. Each confrontation left me baffled. I wasn’t having an affair—I didn’t even have the time or energy for that!

    So why would the man I loved constantly question my loyalty?

    I convinced myself it had to be my fault. Maybe I wasn’t doing enough as a wife, and that’s why he felt so insecure, so suspicious of me.

    At the time, I had no idea I was married to a narcissist. I didn’t understand how narcissists operate, or how they twist reality. More importantly, I didn’t realize how they manipulate you into believing that you’re the problem, not them.

    “Mirror, Mirror on the Wall… Am I Perfect After All?”

    Narcissists have their own version of the enchanted mirror from Snow White—only, instead of seeking the truth, their mirror feeds them the comforting lie they desperately want to hear: “You’re perfect, flawless, and never at fault.”

    This is where narcissistic behavior thrives. While you’re stuck analyzing your every move, they’re busy basking in the reflection of their own grandiosity.

    More Than Being Self-Centered

    Narcissistic Personality Disorder (NPD) isn’t just about someone being self-centered. It’s a deep-rooted personality disorder defined by traits like an inflated sense of self-importance, a desperate need for admiration, and a shocking lack of empathy. Narcissists wear masks of confidence, but underneath, they’re terrified of facing any feelings of inadequacy.

    So why don’t they ask, “Am I the narcissist?”

    They Can’t Handle the Truth

    The truth is, they can’t handle the answer. Their egos are protected by layers of defense mechanisms—denial, projection, and a refusal to accept responsibility. Admitting they might be flawed would shatter the fragile image they’ve built, and that’s not something a narcissist is willing to risk.

    Meanwhile, people like you—who have empathy and care deeply about relationships—are naturally prone to self-reflection. You take accountability for your actions and genuinely want to improve, which is exactly why you’re asking yourself tough questions. And while you’re busy looking in the mirror wondering what you can do better, the narcissist? Well, they’ve already convinced themselves they’re the fairest of them all.

    A Truth Revealed

    Eventually, I uncovered the ugly truth—my ex-husband wasn’t just accusing me out of insecurity; he was projecting his own guilt. He had cheated on me—multiple times. In fact, over fifty times.

    In his twisted logic, he’d convinced himself that if he could pin an affair on me, it would somehow clear his conscience. But when his accusations didn’t stick, he switched tactics, offering up three audacious claims:

    1. His cheating was my fault because I didn’t satisfy him.

    2. I should be grateful he “only” cheated physically, and never emotionally.

    3. I needed to stay quiet about it because everyone would just blame me anyway (he was just looking out for me, of course).

    What didn’t I hear? An apology. Not even close.

    Instead, I was bombarded with deflections, denials, and outright lies.

    He tried to flip the narrative—suddenly, I was the bad guy. According to him, I was the narcissist because I couldn’t see how “wonderful” he was. I was being stubborn for staying angry when forgiveness, in his eyes, was the obvious solution. And his lies? They were all to protect me because, of course, he was such a “great” person.

    Classic narcissist move.

    The Narcissist’s Tactics: Dodging Responsibility Like a Pro

    Narcissists are experts at shifting the blame, turning the tables, and making you question your reality. When things start to fall apart, they’ll do anything to avoid being the “bad guy,” and instead, they’ll paint you as the problem. Let’s break down some of their go-to tactics:

    Projection: “You’re the one who’s selfish!”

    Narcissists often accuse you of the very behavior they’re guilty of. It’s called projection, and it works to distract you from their faults while making you feel responsible. You might hear things like:

    • “You’re so controlling!”
    • “All you care about is yourself!”
    • “You’re the one who’s toxic, not me!”

    This clever tactic puts you on the defensive, and before you know it, you’re questioning your own behavior instead of seeing theirs for what it is.

    My narcissist projected his own guilt onto me, twisting reality to fit his narrative. He even had the audacity to “forgive” me—just in case I had cheated and wasn’t confessing to it. In his mind, he was the noble one, magnanimously overlooking my imagined sins, while I was painted as the villain. He created an alternate reality where he was the hero and I was the problem.

    Blame Shifting: “I wouldn’t act this way if you didn’t push me!”

    Blame shifting is another favorite tool. Narcissists twist situations to make their reactions seem like your fault. They’ll say things like:

    • “If you didn’t make me so mad, I wouldn’t have yelled.”
    • “I only lied because you wouldn’t understand.”
    • “You always make me act this way.”

    By blaming you for their behavior, they avoid taking responsibility and leave you feeling guilty for things you didn’t cause. Narcissists blur the lines between what’s right and wrong, often making you feel like you can’t do anything right.

    My ex-husband didn’t just blame me for his cheating—he actually tried to twist the situation so he could get praise for his behavior.

    During therapy, we uncovered that he was addicted to porn, and that addiction warped his entire view of what a healthy relationship should look like. Once the label of “addict” was slapped on him, he leaned into it, casting himself as the real victim and expecting me to be more understanding and accepting of his choices.

    Even now, he refuses to take any responsibility. Instead, he continues to shift the blame onto me, parading his addiction as an excuse while claiming victimhood.

    Emotional Manipulation: “You’re the reason this relationship is falling apart.”

    Narcissists love to emotionally manipulate you into feeling like you’re responsible for every problem in the relationship. They’ll use guilt and shame to keep you doubting yourself. Expect phrases like:

    • “I’m trying my best, but you keep ruining everything.”
    • “This is all on you. I’ve done nothing wrong.”
    • “If you don’t change, this will never work.”

    By making you feel overly responsible, they deflect attention from their own toxic behavior and keep you stuck in a cycle of self-blame. Narcissists train you to question yourself so often that it becomes second nature.

    After enduring narcissistic abuse, it’s no wonder you’re left feeling confused and full of self-doubt. Narcissists are masters at eroding your sense of self, making it hard to trust your own judgment.

    When my narcissist first cautioned me not to share the news that he was a cheater, I was drowning so thoroughly in his contrived world that I believed the lie that other people would blame me for his cheating. How messed up is that?

    Clear Signs You’re Not a Narcissist

    ✔️Self-Awareness

    You recognize when something is wrong, and you’re willing to reflect on your words, thoughts, and actions. Narcissists, on the other hand, never admit fault.

    ✔️Empathy

    You genuinely care about others’ feelings and how your behavior impacts them. Narcissists lack this trait entirely.

    ✔️Willingness to Change

    You’re open to feedback and want to grow. A narcissist resists any form of personal growth or accountability.

    Time to Stop Questioning and Start Healing

    It’s time to put the doubts to rest and start focusing on your healing. You’ve spent too long in the shadow of someone else’s manipulation, but now it’s your turn to reclaim your sense of self.

    1. Recognize the manipulation.

    Acknowledge that the doubts and self-blame you feel are the result of narcissistic tactics, not reality.

    2. Rebuild your self-esteem.

    Start setting healthy boundaries and practicing self-compassion. You are worthy of kindness—from others and, most importantly, from yourself.

    3. Seek support.

    Don’t be afraid to reach out to a therapist or a support group. Surround yourself with people who validate your experience and can guide you through your healing process.

    The very fact that you’re reflecting, questioning, and growing means you are not the narcissist. You deserve to trust yourself and live free from self-doubt. Start rebuilding your life, and remember—healing is not only possible, but you are already on your way.

    I Am Not a Narcissist!

    After years of living in the shadow of my ex-husband’s narcissistic abuse, I’ve finally stepped into the light—reclaiming my self-confidence piece by piece. It wasn’t easy. It took time, energy, and relentless effort, but I got here by following three crucial steps: recognizing, rebuilding, and reaching out.

    First, I recognized the manipulation for what it was. Then, I began the long process of rebuilding my shattered sense of self. But the most important part? I reached out. My friends and therapists became lifelines, helping me see the truth and guiding me toward healing.

    Now, it’s your turn.

    Time to Believe in Yourself

    If you’ve been asking yourself, “Am I the narcissist?” it’s a strong indication that you are not. It’s time to trust yourself again. You’ve been through the emotional wringer, but now you have the chance to reclaim your confidence and rebuild your self-worth.

    Healing from narcissistic abuse is a journey, but every step you take brings you closer to a life free from manipulation and self-doubt. Remember, you are not the problem—you are capable of change, growth, and, ultimately, healing.

  • Just Because You Understand…

    Just Because You Understand…

  • How to Make Shame Your Ally

    How to Make Shame Your Ally

    “Shame is the intensely painful feeling or experience of believing we are flawed and therefore unworthy of love and belonging.” ~Brené Brown

    I was walking to my office one day when one of my colleagues gave me a compliment about what I was wearing. I was a little surprised and, without thinking, said something disparaging about my dress and darted off into my office.

    As I sat down, I noticed an intense wave of discomfort all over my body, and dark churning thoughts started attacking me.

    What is wrong with me? I asked myself. Why did I say such a stupid thing? Why couldn’t I just be normal and say thank you, take the compliment, and move on? Why am I always so awkward? 

    As I sat by my desk, I felt like I just wanted to shrivel up and disappear. If the ground had opened up for me right there, I would have willingly jumped into it.

    The reply I had given my colleague started to replay in my mind, each time bringing fresh waves of nausea in my stomach and icy chills running down my back.

    What was happening to me, and why was such a seemingly innocent event feeling so uncomfortable, so painful even?

    When I started to learn about emotions and the role they play in our lives, I noticed a standout feeling that seemed to be quieter, subtler, more invisible than other emotions, but that had possibly the most powerful force of them all. It felt like this emotion’s impact, and how it affected my life and that of many others, was stronger than gravity.

    That feeling was shame.

    When I talk to people about shame now, many people don’t even recognize they feel it. That’s why I consider it an invisible emotion. It exerts a powerful force in our lives, affecting how we behave and what we think of ourselves, and it leads many of us to get lost in loops of self-blame, punishment, and vicious, nasty, self-hating thoughts. 

    When we don’t recognize that we are feeling shame, not only does it erode our self-confidence, but it’s very hard to do anything about it. It’s hard for us to release ourselves from that vicious voice of an inner critic.

    Shame was what I was feeling in the office that day. Shame that I hadn’t been able to make an effortlessly charming reply to my colleague. Shame that I might have sounded stupid. Shame that I was getting it wrong socially, again.

    When I learned about shame, I realized how natural it was that it arose in a situation like this. How so many people feel shame in social situations—in different ways than perhaps me, but shame around other human beings nonetheless.

    Shame isn’t a useless emotion whose job is solely to torment us; it actually has a positive purpose. Shame can be an incredible guide and ally for us when we learn how it operates and why it shows up in our lives, then learn how to work it.

    The first barrier that we face in working with shame is that most of us are carrying too much of it.

    We have accumulated shame throughout our lives—shame that has perhaps been passed on to us by our families; shame that people have thrown at us because they couldn’t deal with their own; and the continuous drip that many of us experienced of being shamed as children, as our parents and caregivers might have used it as an easy and effective way to get us to do what they needed.

    There are myriad ways we accumulate shame, but we know that we have too much when we have this belief that we just aren’t good enough as human beings.

    When we accumulate too much shame but don’t know how to release it, it stays hidden within us, growing as we hide more of ourselves, judge more of ourselves, and continue to believe in the wrongness of who we are.

    We don’t ‘let shame out’ because shame is perhaps one of the most socially unacceptable emotions. If you are talking to friends and someone says, “Oh, I feel so guilty I missed that text you sent,” it would most likely be considered okay.

    But if you said, “I feel so ashamed of myself that I missed your text,” it would likely make the conversation awkward.

    People don’t talk about shame because that in itself can feel inherently shameful. It can activate other people’s shame, and it can add to our own expanse of shame when not properly handled. 

    There were many areas of my life where shame showed up. In my relationship, how I responded to my kids. I even started to notice intense shame when a childhood back injury would flare up, and I wouldn’t be able to walk properly. I would start feeling shame for not being mobile, like I needed to apologize for my injury.

    When I started learning about emotions, I realized how much I needed to unravel the shame I was carrying. So I made it my mission to learn and share everything I could so that I could start to live a life where I felt proud and free of who I was—not trying to make myself smaller or more acceptable, but brazenly free and confident instead. Here are some ideas to support you on your journey to healing and releasing shame.

    The Purpose of Shame

    Shame is a natural emotion that has a purpose, like all emotions. Shame’s job is to help us stay connected to our group by adhering to the group’s social rules, to keep us safe by being connected, and to ensure we stay in line with both the group and our own values and needs.

    For example, if we were told as children that we should be quiet, and at a family gathering we were very loud, shame might have appeared to remind us that our parents would be unhappy with us, so the shame would come to try to slow us down and not risk our connection.

    It makes sense for us to have these shame activations when we are children because our safety and survival relies on us staying in connection with our caregivers. But all too often we carry this shame from childhood into our adult life, where it inhibits us from thriving.

    Or as an adult, we’re going on holiday with a friend, and they suggest a much more expensive hotel than we’d normally pick. We start to feel uncomfortable and notice shame has arisen, and when we explore it, we see that shame is trying to remind us of our values of not spending our money in ways we don’t feel good about.

    This is where shame is trying to be our guide, our ally, so that we can retain both connection with our group and our ability to be authentic to our own needs and values.

    Of course, these shame activations don’t feel good, but when we learn why shame exists, it can support us to work with this emotion so it doesn’t feel so overwhelming.

    Shame Often Binds with Other Emotions

    Do you notice that when you feel certain emotions like fear or anger or grief, shame can appear as well? Like I feel bad for feeling how I am. That I shouldn’t be feeling angry, sad, lonely, fearful, etc.?

    This is because shame often binds with emotions that we might not have been allowed to feel as children, or we would get into trouble for. We might have been told off for feeling angry and shamed for doing so. So shame comes up to try and reduce the amount of anger we feel so we don’t get into trouble. And that pattern stays on into adulthood if we don’t recognize it and start to dismantle this shame bind.

    For me, I had a strong shame bind with fear. I would often be made fun of for always being a “scaredy cat” by my friends as a child, or told not to feel fear by the adults around me—that I was being silly.

    Shame identified fear as an emotion that caused problems in my relationships, so it would appear when fear came up to try and slow the fear down so I wouldn’t show it to other people, thereby protecting my relationships.

    How to Melt the Shame You Are Carrying

    Recognize it’s shame and not a factual report of all of your wrongdoings.

    For me, the first step in working with shame is recognizing that I am feeling shame, and that I am not getting a long, factual report of all the things I am doing wrong in my life.

    Shame is a lens that distorts our vision of ourselves. We don’t see who we really are when shame is activated within us.

    Ask yourself: What does shame feel like for me?

    Shame can feel like:

    • Being uncomfortable in your body.
    • Feeling shy and pulling away.
    • Having a flushed face.
    • Feeling tightness in your throat or nauseous.
    • Struggling to breathe.
    • Needing to look away; having trouble keeping eye contact.
    • Feeling like the bottom is falling out from underneath you.
    • Freezing, shutting down.
    • Being lost for words.

    What does shame feel like for you? What happens to your body when shame activates?

    The next step for me is noticing what I do when I feel shame. How do I respond?

    Potential reactions to shame include:

    • Putting yourself down.
    • Attacking or blaming others—trying to throw the shame onto someone else.
    • Suddenly forgetting what you are going to say.
    • Going blank or freezing.
    • Denying or avoiding.
    • Using an activity to numb out.
    • Withdrawing and pulling away or pulling in.
    • Wanting to disappear, vanish.

    For me, putting myself down and withdrawing from people are my two biggest reactions.

    When we know what it feels like for us, it’s easier to spot when it arises. And when we can acknowledge the shame we are experiencing, and not judge ourselves for having this very natural and normal human emotion, it can help us move out of the shame activation more quickly.

    Use gentle movement to move out of shame’s freeze qualities and connect to your body.

    When we experience shame, we often have this urge to shrink or disappear. And this comes with some rigid freezing sensations in the body. We can feel stuck in our bodies and find it hard to move.

    To support ourselves with this freezing, rigid state, we can offer ourselves some gentle, slow movement. Making sure we are staying connected to our breathing, and that we are indeed breathing, we can rock, sway, hug ourselves, move our hands, wrists, and arms—whatever feels both possible and positive in the moment.

    It can also feel very supporting to give ourselves some comforting physical touch—stroking our face and arms, putting a hand on our heart and giving ourselves a gentle rub, rubbing our arms and giving ourselves a hug, wrapping ourselves up in cozy scarves or blankets, offering gentle, kind, and loving physical support.

    Connect to your breath.

    Keeping in touch with our breath is vital. When we are emotionally overwhelmed, we can either hold our breath or have very shallow breathing, so taking some short inhales and long exhales can start our breathing again and also give us a sense of calm. (The long exhales activate the ‘rest and digest’ part of our nervous system.)

    Offer empathy, validation, and connection.

    All emotions yearn for empathy and validation. Emotions want to be acknowledged, to be seen, to be felt and heard. When we ignore our emotions, or judge ourselves for having them, we inhibit their ability to integrate and release from our bodies.

    Giving ourselves empathy in acknowledging our experience can be so soothing in the midst of a shame activation.

    “It’s so hard to feel all of the uncomfortableness of shame.”

    “It was so painful to feel so much shame around this experience. It makes so much sense though that I felt that.”

    “Shame isn’t easy for anyone to feel! I am going to stay and support myself while I move through this emotion.”

    Remember that curiosity is an antidote to shame.

    Curiosity is a very powerful tool to start melting shame. Curiosity can help us process and support any emotion, but it really supports us in working with shame.

    It feels pleasurable to be curious, so we can ask questions like: Might anyone else feels like this? What is happening to me? In my body? In my thoughts? How are my past experiences affecting how I am feeling now?

    It breaks some of the rigidity that shame creates with “always” and “never” statements: I am always getting this wrong. I never make any progress. I’m always a terrible person.

    When we start being curious and looking for new ideas, new ways of seeing, it can break us out of the tunnel vision, fixation part of shame. And when our vision expands, it feels better for our whole physiology.

    When we learn how to reduce the amount of shame we are carrying, as well as learn the message it’s trying to deliver, shame can be a powerful ally. It can show us where we are straying away from our authenticity and our own boundaries. It can remind us of what is important to us, and how we can stay in safe connection with each other.

    Learning the messages our emotions are trying to deliver is one of the most empowering journeys we can take toward self-healing, confidence, and authenticity.

  • You Don’t Have to Put Up with It

    You Don’t Have to Put Up with It

  • What Toxic Shame Feels Like: 9 People Share Their Experiences

    What Toxic Shame Feels Like: 9 People Share Their Experiences

    “The curious paradox is that when I accept myself just as I am, then I change.” ~Carl Rogers

    My heart races as I raise my hand, eager to contribute yet terrified of the attention it brings. When the teacher picks me, the entire classroom turns toward me, putting me in the spotlight. I feel exposed. Shame floods over me like hot lava, twisting my stomach into knots and flushing my face with heat. I try desperately to stop it, but the throbbing intensity only grows. 

    I mutter words I can barely comprehend, feeling like a stranger in my own skin.

    In that moment of shame, I was an embarrassment to myself and all I wanted to do was vanish. This forty-year-old memory is as fresh as if it happened yesterday.

    Growing up in a status-oriented, conflicted home where love and connection were both unpredictable and scarce, I learned early on that I wasn’t safe to be myself in this world. I learned that to get my needs met, I had to change myself. That love and connection were unpredictable, and that I couldn’t just relax and be myself; I had to hustle for it.

    So, when the eyes of the classroom turned toward me, I couldn’t just be myself and answer the question. My programming told me that being myself equals abandonment and leads to rejection and pain. So I hustled to do things “right” to control the situation and avoid the pain of being exposed.

    But here’s the thing:

    When we’re disconnected from our authentic selves, we’re like a house on a shaky foundation—insecure, weak, and ready to fall into a mess at any moment.  And we feel that instability deep within. It’s precisely because of this disconnection that we’re overwhelmed with fear and anxiety, stumbling like fools through unfamiliar territory.

    These moments of shame were a regular part of my childhood. And it wasn’t limited to the classroom.

    When my piano teacher made eye contact, I instinctively looked away, wanting to vanish into the bench.

    When police cars passed me on the street, I’d quickly hide behind parked cars, fearing arrest for finding change under a school vending machine.

    I couldn’t explain these feelings; all I knew was the desperate need to escape that painful exposure.

    The constant anticipation of shame, never knowing when I would be engulfed in excruciating humiliation and loneliness, consumed me. It felt like a full-time job, and I fought against it with everything I had, desperate to regain control over the unpredictable.

    At school, I excelled, earning straight-A grades; at home, I became the perfect peacemaker, striving to manage the chaos of conflict. Eventually, I turned inward, seeking solace in a world consumed by counting calories, restricting food intake, and obsessing over numbers on the scale—a world where I exerted absolute control.

    Anorexia, perfectionism, and peacekeeping became my shields against shame for years. Despite the hospitalizations and brushes with death, they seemed like a safer refuge compared to confronting the raw agony of shame head-on, even if it wasn’t a conscious choice.

    There came a turning point in my journey. After years of battling anorexia, perfectionism, and the relentless pursuit of control, I hit a moment of truth. I realized the shields I’d built to protect myself were suffocating me, trapping me in a cycle of self-destruction.

    I then faced my inner turmoil head-on. With my boyfriend’s (now husband’s) support, I dove deep into studying everything I could about shame, healing, and self-discovery, eventually finding the most success with my own mix of radical acceptance, mindfulness, and somatic emotional release.

    Slowly, I started tearing down the walls I’d built, opting for vulnerability and authenticity instead. It wasn’t easy, and was full of setbacks, but it was a journey that enabled me to reclaim my true self from shame’s grip.

    Looking back, I wish I had known that shame is a fundamental part of the human experience—a challenging emotion that is especially prevalent among shame-sensitive individuals and those of us who’ve endured childhood trauma. Perhaps then, I wouldn’t have overlaid my shame with harsh self-judgment, letting those moments of shame carve themselves so deeply into my self-image.

    Instead, I might have understood that shame, while incredibly tough, is a universal emotion, particularly prevalent among those of us who’ve faced childhood traumas.

    As a culture, we need to grow in our collective understanding of shame. It’s high time we engage in open conversations about shame, fostering empathy and support for those struggling with it.

    That’s why I reached out to my newsletter subscribers and asked those who are living with shame to describe how it feels for them. Nine people shared their experiences. I hope through reading their quotes, it will help you deepen your own understanding of shame, and perhaps help you feel less alone. Here’s what they shared.

    1. I’m constantly trying to hide how messed up I am.

    “Shame feels like a constant pressure to not just do well but to go all out, trying to hide how messed up I am. I’m always worried that if someone sticks around or sees the cracks in my armor, they’ll never really love the true me. It’s like climbing this impossible mountain, always striving for perfection just to deserve love.” —Shelly P., 36

    2. I feel like I don’t belong with “normal” people.

    “I feel like I don’t belong with others. I cringe when I hear myself talking. I read too much into facial expressions and the look in people’s eyes, and it’s a constant reminder that I’m different from everybody else. It’s as if I’m from another species and I don’t belong with ‘normal’ people. I get this overwhelming feeling of being an alien, of being wrong, of being off, of having no right and place to belong. I have the urge to disappear. I want to curl into a ball, be smaller, and evaporate.” —Jen R., 24

    3. It’s discrediting any success I have.

    “I discredit any success I have as being expected. I view it more as‘ Great! You did what a normal person should be able to do’ or ‘Wow, am I that far gone in life that I’m celebrating bottom of the barrel normal behavior??’” —Kalisha C., 49

    4. It feels like every setback is deserved, even expected.

    “It’s a never-ending feeling of unworthiness, being unwanted, and an overall feeling that I’m utterly disgusting in every conceivable way. It’s feeling like I don’t deserve happiness; that every setback is deserved, even expected, because I’m so terrible. It’s not being able to look in the mirror without cringing, and every photo I see of myself is a reminder of my disappointment and failure.” —Angela H., 52

    5. It’s like I’m at war with myself.

    “There’s always something that needs to be changed, improved. If I’m shy, something is wrong with my shyness. If I speak up, I sound stupid. If my opinion isn’t popular, my opinion must be wrong. Everything about me is invalidated. It feels like I live in a self-imposed prison of self-hatred.” —Michele L., 50

    6. I’m always curating myself.

    “It feels like wanting to hide, to be unseen, unheard, and nonexistent to others. I’m always very cautious about what bit of information about myself I share, and with whom. When people get to know me, they’re often surprised by what I’m really like and they tell me how they had a different image of me in their minds. It’s like how I show up doesn’t match who I really am.” —Tina R., 28

    7. I can’t make eye contact.

    “It’s very physical for me: My skin feels hot and tingly, especially on my chest, my face, upper back, and the backs of my upper arms. I hunch forward, my head and eyes lower, and I feel frozen. I can’t make eye contact. My mind goes blank, and I struggle to think properly. And I often get angry and start blaming others. I get resentful and bitter. I hate everyone and I hate myself. It’s awful.” —John T., 32

    8. I’m always anticipating more shame.

    “Shame feels like being sucked into a black hole. It feels like everyone’s looking at me and judging me because I’m so pathetic. It’s so painful that I’ll do anything to avoid it. Anticipating shame and trying to avoid it causes me a huge amount of anxiety.” —Brianna F., 47

    9. And it feels like it will never go away.

    “I’ve done so much work on myself, had so many years of therapy, but it still feels like shame is untouchable, like nothing will ever make it go away  People tell me it’s possible to overcome chronic shame, but I’m not so sure. No matter how hard I try, every day still feels like a struggle. I feel like I’m broken, and nothing can fix me.” —Julia G., 32

    Can You Relate?

    If you’re nodding along with those quotes, rest assured you’re not alone in your journey to heal from shame. It’s entirely possible to heal, though it takes time and dedicated effort. Surround yourself with people, books, or therapists who understand shame from a positive perspective—those who can guide you with empathy and insight.

    It’s crucial to work with professionals who are at peace with their own relationship with shame. Therapists or friends who approach it with fear or condemnation may unintentionally perpetuate the cycle of self-loathing and judgment you’re striving to overcome. Seek out those who offer a non-judgmental space for exploration and healing.

    By engaging with shame compassionately and curiously, you open the door to profound transformation. Embracing shame as a teacher rather than an enemy reveals its hidden wisdom and leads to genuine self-acceptance and empowerment.

    After years of battling shame, I found my way out of the suffocating darkness not by burying or suppressing it, but by turning toward it. Educating myself about shame, I learned that it isn’t merely a byproduct of trauma; it’s a misunderstood yet inherently normal emotion with its own intrinsic value. This new understanding shifted my perspective from fighting against shame to approaching it with curiosity.

    I discovered that, despite its weight, shame holds invaluable power because it can teach us how to love ourselves—even in the darkest of times. When we experience ourselves as inherently flawed, it’s the perfect training ground for cultivating compassion and true self-love. And by caring for ourselves during the hardest moments, we’re reminded that even in our most vulnerable states, we are deserving of love and acceptance.

    Just as we cannot understand light without darkness, we learn to love ourselves through moments of feeling utterly inadequate. These moments, though excruciating, serve as catalysts for profound personal growth and transformation.

    Today, when I raise my hand to speak up in a public forum, I expect to feel a bit awkward and shy, and my face may even blush a little. But it doesn’t stop me from speaking up because I am no longer at war with shame. I know it’s just part of being the exquisitely sensitive human that I am. And I’m okay with that.

    *These quotes have been edited and condensed for length and clarity. 

  • How to Overcome Relationship Conflict with the Internalized Other Practice

    How to Overcome Relationship Conflict with the Internalized Other Practice

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

    If so, how do we do it?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

    1. The simple questions

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  • I Hope That When You Look Back on Your Life…

    I Hope That When You Look Back on Your Life…

  • To All the Highly Sensitive Souls Out There – The World Needs You

    To All the Highly Sensitive Souls Out There – The World Needs You

    “Highly sensitive beings suffer more but they also love harder, dream wider and experience deeper horizons and bliss. When you’re sensitive, you’re alive in every sense of this word in this wildly beautiful world. Sensitivity is your strength. Keep soaking in the light and spreading it to others.” ~Victoria Erickson

    I am lying next to my son in his bed before turning the light off one night, in that relaxed space between awake and asleep where he allows himself to feel and share. He tells me that he feels very lonely at school.

    He shares his loneliness in the middle of kids that are not seeing him for who he is, and that are not being nice to him. He shares his feelings of being invisible, always a bit different and unable to create deep friendships. He discloses that the mockery of others calling him names causes him a great deal of pain.

    I immediately relate to the sadness he feels and feel this deep tightness in my heart. A profound sadness and grief as I listen to him. A need to stop his pain immediately and protect him forever from all the cruelty of the world. A deep mother’s pain. A screaming motherly protective instinct.

    In addition to feeling his pain, I feel my own shadows and fear of being rejected. I feel my wounded younger self being isolated, mocked, and lonely as well. I don’t want that for him. I numb the feelings and go in “fixing mode,” telling him what he has to do—stand up for himself and put his foot down.

    Obviously, fixing mode is not what he needs right now, and he just retracts … and indignantly says, “I don’t get it.” I pause and thankfully get that this is not what he needs right now. He needs me to hold space with empathy. I breathe. I allow the next essential step to unfold.

    I let myself feel his pain, I let myself feel my own pain, and we both cry. Wounded son. Wounded mother. No separation.

    After a while, when the energy has moved, I tell him:

    “My son, it can feel lonely out there. It can feel lonely in there” (showing him my head). “Especially for highly sensitive souls like you and me. I have been there. I feel your pain. I feel my own pain as a mother, and my wounded child feels it too. You are not alone.”

    My son and I are quite alike. We are highly sensitive beings. It is a bit of a cliché these days, but I am not sure how else to describe our uniqueness.

    We have food, sensory, and emotional sensitivities. We are both highly sensitive to loud noises. We had to leave a theater twenty seconds after the start of a kids’ play, as it was too loud for him, when he was three years old. I am highly sensitive to any type of noise, small or big, and I can hear things that other people can’t, like electricity, and other faint noise that would bother no one but me.

    We both get migraines with aura from artificial lightings or certain screens. He is highly sensitive to the texture of clothes and food. We both get highly affected by what is happening in the world or injustices in the communities—to the point that some days I can’t even function if I listen or watch atrocities or sad stories on the news, and I have to take a day off to nurture myself and realign.

    We are both highly empathetic and can feel what others can feel. We are both highly in tune with what others can’t see, on a human level and in the energetical and spirit realms.

    It almost feels like we come from a different planet; like we’re trying on a human space suit and visiting a place we don’t fully understand, finding it hard to adjust here amongst other humans, amidst the noise.

    So that makes life hard to bear some days. We have many triggers, and we feel the whole and wide spectrum of emotions… on a daily basis.

    We are highly reflective and constantly observing, analyzing, in our heads, so we are prone to self-doubts, leading to paralysis and procrastination.

    We have social anxiety when we are in bigger groups and tend to feel uncomfortable, invisible, awkward, and easily exhausted in such a setting

    But our sensitivity also makes life majestic when we are living in alignment with what makes our hearts sing. Theo loves nature, exploring, mountain biking, playing the piano, and being with and learning about animals; and he can get lost in all of that—utterly joyful, captivated, and happy.

    I love playing music and singing, yoga, hiking, and spending time in nature, and it’s all equally magical for me.

    We are also super creative when we get into a state of flow.

    We don’t go with the status quo, and we can make our own way, being a seed of change in a family, organization, or the world.

    Above all, being highly sensitive enables us to connect with others on a deep level, knowing what is going on emotionally for them, having observed humans for a while and being highly intuitive.

    So, to all of you highly sensitive people out there, you are needed. Don’t ever think that you are not good enough because you don’t fit nicely in the world around. You are uniquely positioned to be a seed of light to the world around you.

    You have a gift for understanding and empathizing with people. Your creative talents can bring joy to others and help solve some of the world’s biggest problems. And your passion for the things you enjoy can inspire other people to stop merely surviving and start getting the most from their days.

    Use your strength, be yourself, and release the limiting belief that you are not good enough. This is simply not true; you are more than good enough. So get out there, do scary things like being visible, and shine your light.

    Because you are highly sensitive, it takes a bit more work to effectively take care of yourself—your body, your mind, your emotions, and your energy. Eat nourishing foods that are good for your gut, sleep at least eight hours, exercise, spend time in nature, meditate, set boundaries with other people. And above all, do the things that light you up daily: create, sing, write, journal, paint, play music, dance… whatever it is for you!

    I was lucky to find yoga and neuro-linguistic programming early enough in my life, and they saved me in the moments of hardship and loss, when I met the darkness of my soul.

    I had ways to approach life, manage my emotions, and see the bigger picture and the world in a different way. I had approaches to relax my nervous system and move my blocked energies. I am hoping my son will find his path and healing approaches that work for him. Of course, I will do my best to guide him along the way, but I know he will be the one to find his path and do the work.

    To all the sensitive souls out there. I hear you. I feel you. I understand you.

    Share your light with the world. You are truly needed.

  • How I Learned That My Pain is Valid and Worthy of My Own Empathy and Love

    How I Learned That My Pain is Valid and Worthy of My Own Empathy and Love

    “Sit with it. Sit with it. Sit with it. Sit with it. Even though you want to run. Even when it’s heavy and difficult. Even though you’re not quite sure of the way through. Healing happens by feeling.” ~Dr. Rebecca Ray

    It’s July 2022 and I’m in the middle of a red tent at Shambala Music Festival in British Columbia.

    I sit elbow to elbow, knee to knee, heart to heart with a group of women who I am meeting for the first time.

    It’s hot and we’re sweaty.

    A teacher is leading a healing womb meditation, and she prompts us to identify a person that has caused us pain, so that we can release that person and the power they wield over us.

    I am coming up short, thinking…

    “No one has caused me any real pain.”

    “I don’t have any real trauma.”

    “The pain I have experienced isn’t bad enough.”

    So I directed my healing energy to two friends who I believed were in need of more healing than me.

    I instantly realized what I was doing. I was defining my friends by their perceived abundance of pain and trauma and defining myself by my supposed lack of pain and trauma.

    I knew in that moment that this was probably not fair to my friends or to me, but this way of thinking had been familiar to me throughout my thirty-two years of living.

    Over and over again, I have found myself feeling guilty for the fact that I don’t think I have any “real” trauma.

    I come from a stable home with parents who love and support me. Growing up, I had everything I needed and most things I wanted. I have a big brother who is one of the best men (best humans) I know. I grew up in a middle-class part of Maryland. I have white skin in America. I can see, hear, and move my body.

    I used to constantly wonder how the challenges I have experienced could possibly stack up against those of my friends. She who experienced the deepest sexual trauma at a young age; or she who had an alcoholic father who was physically and emotionally abusive; or she who is regularly profiled when she walks home to her apartment because of the color of her skin.

    Or how my challenges could stack up against students I’ve mentored…like a ten-year-old boy from Syria whose legs are decorated with shrapnel scars; or a fifteen-year-old boy from Eritrea who was a child soldier; or a sixteen-year-old young woman who is the caretaker for her sick mother and five younger brothers and sisters.

    Luckily for me, and for you, I have detached from my struggle story that my pain is not enough. I have learned quite a few things and shifted away from this unhealthy way of thinking about pain and trauma.

    First, I have learned, and will continue to re-learn, that there is no competition for who has suffered the most. Trauma and pain are not a comparison game. 

    All experiences, emotions, and feelings are valid. And we all get to practice empathy for and awareness of the experiences and heartache of others, and of ourselves.

    I have also learned that people are not defined by their trauma. 

    And I am deeply sorry to the people in my life who I have ever defined in this way.

    My final learning is that the things I have experienced are valid and enough to warrant my own empathy, healing, and love. 

    Like…

    The countless times having sex with a previous partner, even though I didn’t want to, because it was just easier to go along with it. Which resulted in a period of my life where I really didn’t like sex. I told myself, it’s not that big of a deal, it’s just sex.

    The pressure from a friend to mess around with her boyfriend while she watched. Even though I said, “I don’t want to.”  I told myself I was just being a prude. This should be fun. What’s wrong with me?

    The grabs and gropes on the street, in the club, at the bar. I told myself this just came with the territory of being a woman.

    The unwanted touch and advance from a friend. I told myself I’ll just forget this and move on.

    The shame of one-night stands, even though I knew he, whoever he was, felt not shame but something more akin to glory. I told myself it was my fault for having a one-night stand. I brought this shame upon myself

    All of these experiences, and more, have been buried deep within me for years and I had barely been aware of them, until recently, as I have embarked on a very intentional journey of self-excavation.

    For me, this journey has included meditation, prayer, journaling, somatic healing, and experiences like the one in the red tent.

    I embarked on this journey thinking I would unpack a few insecurities and move on with my life with relative ease.

    But what has actually happened is that I have uncovered so many hidden treasures in myself.

    These treasures are sometimes in the form of past pain. Other times they take the form of nuggets of ideas that I buried long ago for a rainy day. And yet other times, they are in the form of things that I used to love as a child but forgot about as I grew up and was told by the world what I was supposed to love and who I was supposed to be.

    And now I get to excavate even further to see what each of these treasures is here to teach me. For the ones I shared above, there is a clear theme of sexuality, and that theme has led me to deep dive into this space with myself. This looks like self-pleasure, dancing naked in the mirror, loving every part of my body, and speaking my desires out loud to my partner.

    This journey has plunged me into the depths of my own darkness. And in that plunge, I have been reminded of my own strength—of my ability to bask in the darkness, all while knowing I will be okay.

    I also get to remind myself that I am enough. My pain is valid. I am worthy of taking up space.

    Guess what. The same goes for you, love.

  • The Absence of Empathy and Understanding

    The Absence of Empathy and Understanding

  • An Unexpected Place to Find Kindness: What Made Me Feel Like I Belong

    An Unexpected Place to Find Kindness: What Made Me Feel Like I Belong

    “Not all of us can do great things. But we can do small things with great love.” ~Mother Teresa

    Routines are important to me. I rely on certain things to bring me back home to myself; to feel clear and open in my mind, body, and heart.

    One of the activities that bring steadiness to my life is swimming. It’s one of my greatest pleasures. There is something magical to me about the feeling of water on my skin, the repetition of the arm strokes that calm my mind, the sound of my breath that relaxes my body, and the rays of sunlight that reflect off the water.

    I rely on swimming three mornings a week. I like to say it gets me back in my lane or it keeps me out of the others’ lanes.

    I showed up to my local pool several weeks ago—pool closed due to mechanical issues.

    It was just supposed to be for a few days. I told myself that it was a gift to give my body a rest from swimming. Over the next few days, I told myself that this time allowed me to help a loved one who needed extra care. But as more time passed, I couldn’t find a reason to find peace without swimming. I missed it.

    I found another pool a bit farther away from my home. Though I felt irritated that I had to go to another pool and create a new routine, I chose my love for swimming over any of the inconveniences.

    After my first swim, an employee ran over to me and said, “I’d like to introduce myself and welcome you to our pool. It’s wonderful to have more lap swimmers here.” We connected over our love for swimming.

    I left feeling a little more cheerful than I usually do after a swim, and I am already pretty cheerful after swimming.

    I came back the following week, and after finishing my swim was greeted by the water aerobics women. As I got out of the pool, they chatted with me about swimming and how they want to learn to do laps.

    Over the next few weeks, I began to notice that every time I left swimming, I was a bit more cheerful.

    One morning, as the aerobics women came into the pool, I noticed that they greeted each other with hugs and kisses (yes, in the pool at 9:00 a.m.).  I asked the lifeguard, “Does this always happen?” 

    He replied, “Sure does.”

    In the locker room women hum songs, tell me to have a blessed day, and chat with me about all sorts of things as I shower. I don’t know anyone personally, and yet they are undeniably kind and warm to me.

    Just this past week a woman belted out in the locker room I AM BEAUTIFUL. I couldn’t help but feel completely overjoyed at this women’s confidence and radiance.

    I have been noticing how I’ve been feeling after swimming, and I have become curious about what’s contributed to the fact I haven’t checked if my pool has reopened.

    It’s the women. It’s the kindness. It’s the singing. It’s the joyful greetings. It’s the curiosity.

    While I only know two women by name, they know even less about me and how the things they have been doing for many years have been bringing an extra dose of cheer into my life.

    It has not been easy for me living in a neighborhood that is known for intergenerational legacies of families living here. I didn’t come from this neighborhood. Even though I have been here for eighteen years, feeling like I fit in has been a private struggle that I don’t often share with others.

    In this pool, a short drive from my home, in another neighborhood, I have found a place that I need more of in my life. 

    We all want to find our people; we all want to belong.

    Sometimes we don’t actually know how much pain we hold until we are blessed with the one thing that has been missing—kindness.

    And with that kindness, the protection starts to soften and the hurts come to the surface. We realize that’s just what our heart was holding all of these years.

    In my mind, I’ve known the story of the past eighteen years of living in a place I don’t really feel like I fit.

    I’ve worked with the beliefs. I’ve taken responsibility for what is mine to learn, heal, and grow from. I’ve also come to accept that this was what life gave me and that even in not feeling like I belong, there have been tremendous gifts and blessings these past years.

    But it is also true that we need to give words to our truth. I want to belong. It is a human birthright to belong. We are designed to belong to groups of human beings.

    We see people through our own lens and make up stories about them that aren’t necessarily true. I am grateful that these women at the pool didn’t make up a story about me and instead treated me with kindness.

    They could have easily made up a story about me. They are black, and I am white. They know I am not from their neighborhood, but instead, they saw past what I looked like and opened their hearts to me. They sang to me in the shower, blessed my day with prayers, and wished me well for the rest of my day.

    None of us know the story of someone’s insides. None of us know how simple acts of kindness and inclusion can make someone feel like they belong.

    Sometimes the people that we least expect to make a difference in our lives do. We are all capable of this.

    We all live with a protected heart in some ways; none of us are free from hurts. If I hadn’t sat with the pain of not belonging and feeling disappointed in past relationships, my heart may have been impenetrable. I had to learn to be there for myself with kindness before I could allow others to be there for me. I think this is true for all of us.

    Sometimes the simple gesture of placing your hand on your heart and saying to yourself, “I am here for you” is a great act of kindness and allows the unexpected joys of life to be felt when you least expect them.

  • How to Love Mindfully When You’re a Socially Anxious People-Pleaser

    How to Love Mindfully When You’re a Socially Anxious People-Pleaser

    “It’s okay to care about what people think. Just know there’s a difference between valuing someone’s opinion and needing their approval.” ~Lori Deschene

    My date—an attractive student in her twenties—talked away excitedly, but all I could think of was this:

    “How can I make her like me?”
    “How can I impress her?”
    “How can I make her laugh?”

    I agonized over every word that I said, every response from her, every moment of our interaction, and I poured every single detail that I could find—or imagine—under the microscope of my mind… and all of a sudden, the date was over!

    As we said goodbyes and as I walked out of the cafe, I recalled the conversation. Wait. What did we talk about? What did I say?

    To my horror, all I could remember were my anxiety-filled thoughts. I said the wrong thing! She frowned! I mumbled! It got even more awkward!

    At that very moment, I felt trapped in a hell of my own. And I had no idea how I’d ever get out.

    For years, I would remain stuck in the seemingly eternal loop of social anxiety and romantic failure.

    I was mostly unsuccessful in sparking new romantic connections. Even if there were sparks of chemistry, they fizzled out by the end of the first date.

    And when I did have a girlfriend? I sacrificed my needs to please her in any way possible, which led to me eventually resenting the relationship and lashing out (which I’m not proud of at all).

    Desperate for change, I embarked on a multi-year journey of learning and reflection.

    I read dozens of books on relationships and communication. Took multiple mindfulness courses. Journaled and meditated daily. Sought advice from a therapist.

    After four years, here are the four things I’ve learned about loving mindfully, with less worry.

    Loving mindfully is about accepting your insecurities.

    Whether it’s feeling not successful enough, not rich enough, not smart enough, or not attractive enough.

    What’s your biggest insecurity?

    That might just be at the heart of your social anxiety. And when you’re socially anxious, you’re more sensitive toward judgment—especially if it’s about your deepest insecurities.

    For example, if you’re feeling insecure about your looks, a passing comment on your pimple might feel like they are critiquing your entire appearance. The anxiety amplifies the criticism, making it a lot louder and stronger in your mind.

    The stakes? When you aren’t aware and accepting of your insecurities, they can shape the entire dynamic of your romantic relationship. When you don’t feel worthy of love, you might engage in excessive people-pleasing and even hide your true personality.

    Tara Brach, a celebrated clinical psychologist and meditation teacher, calls this the Trance of Unworthiness. In her words:

    “Basically, the familiar message is, “Your natural way of being is not okay; to be acceptable, you must be different from the way you are.”

    When in this trance, we are living in an imprisoning perception of who we are. When strong, our beliefs and feelings of deficiency prevent us from being intimate and authentic with anyone; we sense that we are intrinsically flawed and others will find out. Because the fear of failure is constant, it is difficult to lay down our hypervigilance and just relax. Instead, we are consumed with hiding our flaws and/or trying to be a better person.”

    My biggest insecurity was—and still is—that I’m not successful enough. As a result, I’d say and buy things to please my partner, since I felt that I had to “win” their affection and make up for my inadequacy. When I shared this with Raz, a close friend of mine, she said something profound:

    “You can still date while becoming more successful.”

    The power of what she said is psychological flexibility: accepting your insecurity and your desire to improve without shying away from romance. Rather than an “either or” story, you focus on a  “this and that” story instead.

    Loving mindfully is about accepting disagreement and disappointment.

    For socially anxious people-pleasers like me, disagreement and disappointment can feel like relationship-ending threats. If your partner or date disagrees with you, you might see it as a sign that they dislike you or that you need to change your opinion.

    For example, if you love dancing and your date says, “Nah, I would never try dancing,” you might start thinking, “Are they hinting that we aren’t a good match?” You might even backtrack on what you said: “Actually, I don’t like dancing that much.”

    As a result of your fear of disagreement and disappointment, you avoid conflict, and you often become overly accommodating. Over time, you lose your sense of self in a relationship. You’re no longer the full, vibrant you, and that’s a tragedy, isn’t it?

    I know all this too well, because this was my default mode of interaction for years. Rather than being an equal romantic partner, I became a servant to my partner’s needs and preferences. Now, I’m learning to be okay with letting others down and accept that I will feel bad doing so.

    The truth is, even the best relationships experience disagreement and disappointment. And the reason is simple: no one can 100% agree with each other or meet each other’s needs all the time.

    Loving mindfully is about accepting and respecting their choices.

    Here’s how Hailey Magee, a codependency recovery coach, defines codependency:

    “Codependent relationships exist between partners who rely predominantly on each other for their sense of value or purpose. People in codependent relationships tend to neglect themselves while overprioritizing their partners’ values, needs, and dreams. The result? A painful and tangible loss of self.”

    Sounds kind of like people-pleasing, if you ask me.

    In fact—based on my experience, at least—there’s a lot of overlap between people-pleasing and codependency. When you’re a people-pleaser, you put your romantic partner’s needs above yours, and your happiness depends on their happiness.

    In my case, I took excessive responsibility for my girlfriend’s feelings and problems. If anything wasn’t going right in her life, I tended to assume fault and went out of my way to make her feel better.

    Over time, I learned that love isn’t about helping your partner solve their problems or feel good all the time. Support and encourage them as needed, but never become their babysitter. What does that mean?”

    • Not ‘fixing’ their feelings, as Dr. Aziz Gazipura, a clinical psychologist, would say. (I highly recommend learning from him, by the way.)
    • Not giving unsolicited advice (a telling phrase is “you should…”)
    • Not making their decisions on their behalf

    Loving mindfully is about accepting the possibility of a breakup.

    When your partner breaks up with you, it can feel like a blow to your ego—that you’re not as desirable or lovable as you thought. To many, it’s the ultimate form of rejection. You might be so afraid of a potential breakup that you spend all your time with your partner looking for signs it might be coming and trying to prevent it—and then you might end up creating a self-fulfilling prophecy,

    You might also end up settling for a good-but-not-great relationship. As Eliora Porter, a University of Pennsylvania psychologist, suggested:

    “Socially anxious individuals may be more inclined to stay in a less than optimal relationship for fear of having difficulty finding a new partner if they were to end the relationship.”

    So how do you accept the painful possibility that your relationship might end one day? Accept that a relationship doesn’t have to be permanent to be successful. Even if it doesn’t last forever, you can enjoy each other’s company and help each other learn and grow. Adopting this mindset will enable you to get out of your head and appreciate the relationship for what is in the moment.

    Also, see the silver lining in heartbreak. When a relationship ends because you weren’t a good fit, it gives you another chance to find a better match.

    In the past, I stayed in unsatisfying relationships for much longer than I wanted to, as I was scared that I’d never find someone else. So, what changed my mind? Going on Tinder when I was newly single and getting more matches than I thought I would. That made me realize that, “Hey, I’m not that unattractive after all.”

    To sum it all up, mindful love is about:

    • Accepting your insecurities.
    • Accepting disagreement and disappointment.
    • Accepting and respecting their choices.
    • Accepting the possibility of breakup.

    And above all…

    Mindful love is a dance between your needs and your partner’s.

    While you balance both with empathy, you’re always acting from a foundation of self-awareness and compassion—and that’s what gives you the strength in any relationship.

  • If You Really Want to Change the World: 4 Ways to Be Kind

    If You Really Want to Change the World: 4 Ways to Be Kind

    “I’ve learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” ~Maya Angelou

    I’ve now reached the age in my life when every so often, I get an email or text informing me that someone I know has died. Some of the people who have passed away have been former supervisors or teachers from high school. Others have been the parents of friends or elderly members of my church.

    At one time, the news that someone had died was shocking to me. Now it’s nearly a monthly occurrence, and I’ve become accustomed to it.

    Whenever I receive one of these texts or emails, I always go in search of the obituary. This may sound macabre, but I love a good obituary. I like to learn what people chose to do with this one life that they were given. I particularly like the obituaries in which you get a sense of who the person was. Aside from their accomplishments, what was that person really like?

    Because the reality is that your accomplishments aren’t what will have mattered most about your life.  Instead, what matters about your life is how you made people feel, as so aptly put by Maya Angelou. Another way of putting it is this: Were you kind to others?

    Why does kindness matter so much? Because kindness is the only real way to change the world for the better. For example, I can give you $20, and you can use that to buy one meal. Certainly, that is a nice gesture.

    But what if I encourage you? What if I take the time to specifically identify your gifts and talents? What if I explain to you that you have the ability to do great things with your life? Then my kindness potentially has changed your life.

    Kindness is powerful. In fact, being kind is the most important thing that we do in life.

    Below are ways to start incorporating kindness into your daily life. If you make kind acts part of your daily routine, you’ll end up being someone who changes the world in the most beautiful way.

    To Be Kind, Be an Encourager

    We live in a very critical world. Sadly, people are quick to criticize, and they are reluctant to offer praise. Given the harshness of our world, it’s no small wonder that so many people lack confidence in themselves.

    Kind people are our only hope to fight the world’s negativity. That is because kind people encourage others. They are the type of people who go out of their way to comment when someone does something well. And they readily point out others’ gifts and talents.

    But realize that encouraging others is something that we have to intentionally choose to do. For example, often a complimentary thought will float through my head. “Her hair looks great today.” Or “That was a terrific presentation.” But unless I catch myself, that idea will float out of my head just as quickly as it floated in! As a result, I try to make an effort to say those complimentary thoughts out loud whenever I can.

    Realize that being an encourager has to be a conscious choice. Otherwise, those complimentary thoughts will just stay inside our brains. And the other person won’t benefit from those precious words of encouragement.

    So choose to be kind by choosing complimenting over criticizing. Build others up instead of tearing them down. If you do, you’ll make the world a far more pleasant place to be for everyone.

    Be Helpful in the “Right” Way

    Most of us strive to be helpful. After all, that is what good people do—we help others! But the problem is that so often we help others in the wrong way.

    For example, I learned many years ago that to be a good mother, I had to help my daughter in the ways that she wanted help.

    The issue came to the fore one day when her room was messy. I thought I would help her out by tidying it up. Later that day, she returned home from school and wanted help with her homework. However, by that point, I felt worn out because I’d already cleaned up her room. She then said to me, “But Mom, I can clean up my own room. I didn’t ask you to do that for me. What I need help with is my homework.”

    She was right. That moment was a turning point for me. I tend to think that I know what is best for everyone! But after that experience, I came to realize that even if I think I know best, I need to help others in the ways that they want help.

    Because if you help people in the way that you think is best for them, you aren’t respecting them. You effectively are saying, “I know better than you what you really need.” And that attitude diminishes people.

    So part of being kind to others is helping them in a respectful manner. If you want to want to help someone (or give them a gift), find out what that person wants. You aren’t being truly kind and helpful if you simply help them in a paternalistic fashion in which you convey that you know best. Instead, be kind by helping others in the right way.

    To be Kind, Choose Compassion Over Judgment

    Unfortunately, it’s human nature to judge others. After all, how often do we walk by a homeless person and think, “That person needs to get a job!” Or we may have a family member with an alcohol addiction, and we’ll say, “For heaven’s sake, just stop drinking! Pull your life together.” Or we may have a child who is failing math, and we’ll tell the child, “These bad grades are your fault. You need to study more and stop goofing off.”

    But being kind means offering compassion, even when it is oh so easy to judge. I find that the best way to avoid the “judgment trap” is to say this to myself on a regular basis: “But for the grace of God go I.”

    What that means is that some of us get lucky in life. We may have been blessed with a stable upbringing, or with good genetics. Or we may have been born with a gender, skin color, or nationality (or all three!) that simply makes our lives a lot easier than other people’s lives.

    Given that some folks are just dealt a better hand in life than others, it makes sense that we should interact with people who are struggling by coming to them from a place of compassion rather than judgment. Our attitude should be “I’m so sorry that you are suffering. Let’s figure out a way to fix this situation.”

    I’ll concede that it is frustrating when people make big mistakes that negatively affect our lives and the lives of others. Nevertheless, be kind. Remember that to be kind means to be compassionate, even when it is so much easier to judge.

    Value Kindness Over Being Right

    Years ago, I hosted a family gathering in which there was a heated argument about politics. Angry words were said. People insulted each other. And everyone left the gathering feeling terrible.

    What was particularly stupid about the whole thing was that the argument was pointless. Not one of us worked in politics. And not one of us had any sway over politics outside of our one vote in each election. So we didn’t change the world by arguing. We simply damaged our relationships with each other.

    I’ve had a similar experience when it comes to discussions about other hot button topics, like religion. For instance, I happen to go to church. Now, I never try to inflict my religious views on anyone. Rather, I consider religion to be a deeply personal matter.

    Yet, every so often, I’ll receive a snide, insulting remark about my religious faith from people who are atheists or agnostics. I choose not to argue back when I hear those remarks, but I always think to myself, “What was the point of that remark? How did that remark make the world a better place?”

    Realize that problems arise when we are more concerned about being right than we are about being kind. Of course, there are times when we need to voice our concerns. For instance, we should always speak up when we see someone being treated unjustly. But that is different from demanding that others see the world in the exactly same way that we do.

    To treat others with kindness, we have to be willing to agree to disagree. We can’t bully others into our point of view. Instead, we have to value being kind over being right.

    If you really want to change the world, the simplest thing you can do is be kind. Be kind consistently. Strive to be kind, even when you don’t feel like it. Be kind because it is the easiest thing that you can do to make the world a better place.

  • 11 Important Things I’ve Learned in 11 Years of Marriage

    11 Important Things I’ve Learned in 11 Years of Marriage

    “A great marriage is not when the ‘perfect couple’ comes together. It is when an imperfect couple learns to enjoy their differences.” ~Dave Meurer 

    My husband and I will soon be celebrating our eleventh anniversary. By no means do we have the perfect marriage or are we the perfect couple. Over our eleven years of marriage, I’ve recognized a few critical areas needed to build a solid and lasting union as a couple.

    Here are eleven things I’ve learned in eleven years of marriage.

    1. Communicate.

    In the early days of my marriage, I was terrible at communicating my feelings with my husband. Rather than sharing what was bothering me, I suppressed my feelings, hoping he would read my mind.

    Over the years, I’ve learned that my spouse is not a mind reader, and if something is bothering me, I need to talk to him about it so change can occur.

    Both parties must be willing to communicate openly for a marriage to succeed.

    Admit when you both are not aligned with each other. You don’t always have to compromise or give in, as doing this will make only one of you happy. Instead, find common ground by communicating your feelings honestly and looking at things from each other’s perspectives.

    2. Support each other.

    As a couple, we’ve always supported each other’s dreams—big or small.

    Last year, my husband needed to move across three provinces for work.

    While I didn’t see that in our future and wasn’t a fan of moving, I knew what it meant for him.

    He’s always been an enormous support and constantly encourages my growth in business and my personal life. Without a shadow of a doubt, I knew I needed to stand by him and make a move, so we did!

    Even when difficult, we must give each other support to grow.

    3. Apologize to each other.

    I’m not always the best at apologizing, but I’ve improved over the years. I’m mature enough today to say, “I’m sorry” or “I apologize for XYZ.”

    In the past, I was way too proud to say I was sorry or even acknowledge I was wrong, but over the years, I’ve learned to apologize rather than start a small conversation and carry on as usual without owning or acknowledging the argument.

    Saying I’m sorry shows that we validate each other’s feeling and are willing to work through our disagreements.

    Saying I’m sorry also promotes that we are a mistake-making couple, willing to improve ourselves while lifting each other up.

    4. Set boundaries with relatives.

    Relatives love giving their two cents in relationships.

    We had a lot of comments from relatives regarding when we should start a family. The choice to exclusively breastfeed both of our kids also got a lot of criticism (especially with the first one).

    The most recent was when my spouse had to move across the country due to work, his parents suggested he shouldn’t.

    We learned the importance of setting boundaries with family members early as a couple—being brave and bold enough to say, “Thanks for the advice; however, we will make a decision best suited for our season of life and our family.”

    5. Have common goals.

    My spouse and I are total opposites. But I believe that our differences complement each other.

    Not all of our goals are the same. My husband has his personal goals, and so do I. But we, as a couple, have common goals and key areas we agree upon. For example: how we raise our kids, invest our money, spend our time, plan vacations, give gifts, and so forth.

    6. Make time for each other.

    As a couple with two young kids, we are constantly interrupted. That’s the season of life we are in, and we openly embrace that.

    In fact, we enjoy incorporating our kids into almost everything we do, spending as much time as possible with them.

    However, once the kids are asleep, we spend an hour or so every night intentionally chatting and catching up before heading to bed.

    7. Don’t judge or criticize each other.

    After eleven years of marriage, I’ve realized there’s always going to be something he does that irritates me. Likewise, some of my actions will annoy him. It’s an inevitable part of being married.

    I no longer get frustrated when he changes and leaves his PJs on the bed. Instead, I put them in the hamper for him.

    Paying attention to all your spouse’s quirks and quickly getting annoyed will only hinder you from seeing their endless good qualities.

    8. Show interest in learning more about each other.

    When you’ve been with someone a long time, it’s easy to assume you know everything about them, but there’s always more to learn and understand, and curiosity can keep a relationship fresh and exciting.

    Even though we’ve been married for over a decade, there’s still so much to be known.

    I’m always interested in learning more about my spouse, listening attentively to him, and noticing what triggers him when he’s looking at the news, or what is of interest to him when he’s playing a game, watching a movie, or playing with the kids.

    9. Choose not to keep score.

    Tit for tat never works well and is quite unhealthy for any relationship.

    Of course, both people should have time and the ability to nurture their own interests. But if you think you need to find a new adventure as some sort of payback for your partner golfing all afternoon, you’re probably breeding resentment.

    10. Avoid running to your parents or best friend to complain about trivial matters.

    Arguments in marriage are inevitable, and disagreements can be healthy. I believe they provide an opportunity to learn something new about each other.

    The more people you involve in your affairs, the more complicated things get because it’s tempting to let them influence you instead of making the choice that’s right for you and your relationship.

    When spouses sit together and have an honest, open, thoughtful conversation, they can understand each other better.

    11. Be playful.

    Over eleven years of marriage, I’ve recognized the importance of not always talking about mundane activities and things happening worldwide. Our hearts can easily become heavy when we focus on everything that’s going on in the world.

    As a couple, you must take a moment and indulge in life’s light-hearted, playful side. Sometimes, for us, this involves looking at funny TikTok videos together or sending funny text messages to one another.

    This allows us to add joy and bring a much-needed sparkle into our life.

    —

    Marriages are not always easy. We’ve got stats to prove it, right?!

    Today, I feel blessed and thankful to be entering another year of marriage with my husband.

    I’m ready to learn, grow, and aspire to be the best version of myself while supporting him to be the best version of himself.

  • It’s Amazing How a Little Kindness Can Open Someone’s Heart

    It’s Amazing How a Little Kindness Can Open Someone’s Heart

    “We cannot tell the precise moment when friendship is formed. As in filling a vessel drop by drop, there is at last a drop which makes it run over; so in a series of kindnesses there is at last one which makes the heart run over.” ~Ray Bradbury

    I have a weekly ritual of stopping by a small Vietnamese market close to our home. Thursday is delivery day for Lady Finger bananas, which are sweet little bananas from Mexico.

    When I first frequented the shop, the small, dark-haired owner behind the counter would comment rather sternly, “Only bananas, that it!” She would weigh them and stretch out her hand, and I’d dutifully pay, hoping my small purchase would not continue to irritate her.

    After a few months, I asked her name. “Maria,” she answered abruptly. I decided it best not to burden her with mine.

    As the months continued, I always made sure I said, “Hi Maria!” and “Bye Maria!”

    One day there was a younger man behind the counter, and since it was a family-owned business, I assumed it might be one of her sons. When I asked about where his mom might be, he explained she was taking a few days off.

    As we started chatting, he shared how stressful the grocery business can be for her. “But I always tell her, Mom, you have to be nicer to the customers. You can’t yell at them!”

    I decided to continue my quest to make friends with Maria. One day I brought her banana bread made with my little bananas. I handed the small loaf across the counter. She tilted her head and asked, “What this for?” I explained I just wanted to thank her for selling me so many bananas. I think she thanked me but maybe not.

    One cold morning in December, she seemed unusually subdued. When I asked how her day was going, she answered quietly, “My eldest son die.”

    I let her know how very sorry I was, and on my next visit I brought her a card and another loaf of bread. This time she thanked me with a hint of a smile.

    I often felt she didn’t know what to do with my gestures of gratitude and concern, but as the months wore on, she no longer reprimanded me for only buying bananas. One day she made my purchase that much sweeter, when she asked, “Your name?” “Priscilla,” I answered proudly carrying my sack toward the door.

    Winter passed and spring arrived bringing relief to our small Colorado town. As I approached the shop, a sign on the door read, “We will close early today and stay close over weekend.” Her younger son was behind the counter, and I politely asked why they were closing.

    “My dad passed on yesterday.” Once again, I offered my condolences.

    Soon Maria was back, looking thin and tired. As I handed her my bananas to weigh, I said how very sorry I was to hear about her husband. I pulled my credit card from my wallet and saw a green and white Starbucks gift card nestled behind it. I reached across the counter and offered Maria the small gift.

    “Would you buy yourself a big cup of warm tea and know it is from me?” As I turned to leave, I heard her say quietly, “Wait.” She came around the counter and held out her arms for us to hug. We held each other close. After a few years I had made a new friend.

    It’s amazing how a little kindness can open someone’s heart.

  • Freedom Is the Space Between Each Judgmental or Righteous Thought

    Freedom Is the Space Between Each Judgmental or Righteous Thought

    “It is inner stillness that will save and transform the world.” ~Eckhart Tolle

    Life is hard. Impenetrable at times. How can we use our spirituality to navigate through the density of life?

    That question inspired this piece of writing. And my navigation tool is almost effortless; I feel compelled to share it.

    When my mind is churning and burning with thoughts and fears and worries, I take myself off to a quiet place, get still, and watch my mind. I wait for the tiny gap between each thought. Bingo.

    That space, that little gap, is freedom in its truest, purest form. It is the birthplace of peace. And every time I enter that space, I am no longer at war with anything. Despite what madness may surround me, that place always remains untouched. It is like an infinite reservoir of strength and love—one that feels like, well, freedom.

    How I came to find that reservoir is a long and nuanced story (that’s why I wrote a whole book about it), but I’ll try and give you the nutshell version.

    Essentially, to even find it, I had to first get to the point where I was so disillusioned—with my cancer, with people, with the system, with the greed, with the house chores, with the destruction of the planet, with war, and with life full stop.

    Little did I know it then, but that disillusionment was freedom’s gateway.

    For so long, I looked to ‘the other’ as the source of my disillusionment.

    Sometimes ‘the other’ was a person, sometimes it was a situation—my cancer, the pandemic, the person who I believed had wronged me, the political party; anything or anyone that caused a disturbance to my happiness fell into this bucket.

    Of course, it felt good to blame cancer, that person, or the pandemic for my woes, at least on the surface. Yet the blaming was also the root of my suffering. The biggest wars I’ve had in my own life were when I was trying to get ‘the other’ to yield / change / admit they have it wrong so I could live in peace.

    But the true source of my disillusionment was never with them. When I stopped waiting for the situation to change and shifted my attention to my mind, I observed something that floored me at first: my own righteousness.

    Staring back in the mirror were my tendencies to be correct, envy, judge, complain, and win. That mirror revealed one simple truth: I was adding to the war I desperately wanted to end. I had arrived at the place where I was simply fed up—no longer fed up with life but rather fed up with the suffering caused by my very own mind.

    The challenges and hindrances of life may have taken you to a similar point—the point where you’ve had enough. Before freedom is even possible, this stage is necessary, essential even.

    The world is unsatisfying. So, now what? This is freedom’s front door. It is the opening to the very core of your being. When we have had enough of looking outside for contentment, only then do we look inward. This is where the rubber meets the road.

    But we have to go deeper—beyond the mind, beyond our thoughts about what is right vs. wrong, left vs. right—to our essential oneness.

    And, as a collective, I think we get there by asking ourselves one simple question: Do I want peace or war?

    If it is peace, we must start with the peace in our minds. In all the frenzy, it is possible to simply stop and enter into the space between every thought. Rest there for a few scared moments. Feel the ease wash over every cell of our being. Come home to that again and again. Life doesn’t need to be any different to enter that space.

    That space is freedom. And true freedom is not bound in any person or situation. Freedom is what sits underneath the war. It is found in the tiny gap between every righteous and non-righteous thought; it occurs through stillness.

    From this stillness, I’ve learned (yes, the hard way) that we can speak our truth, but now we speak it without the need to control any outcome.

    For example, rather than trying to force my husband to read a spiritual book instead of opting for Netflix—as if I know what’s right and best for him—I can respect him for where he is at in his inner journey. I still act. I still suggest books. But my happiness is not dependent on his choice.

    Instead of being angry at a friend who hurt me, I can step out of my righteousness and cultivate empathy for where she is at in her life. I still reach out. I still attempt resolution. But my peace is not dependent on her response.

    I throw my seeds of truth, dug up from the depths of my heart, out into my family and the world. Sometimes they land in the fertile soil of ‘the other,’ and sometimes they don’t. So be it. It is action without criticism, judgment, blame or control—without the war. I had found a place within where I could look at ‘the other’ and feel compassion and even love instead of anger and annoyance.

    Eckhart Tolle says, “It is inner stillness that will save and transform the world.”

    I couldn’t agree more. Because from that place, from the silent stillness within, war is not escalated but instead averted.

    So, to anyone feeling disenchanted, I want to honor you and say one thing: The freedom your soul is aching for is within arm’s reach. It is as close as your breath, as close as the space between each of your thoughts.

  • How to Release the Fear That Holds You Back and Keeps You Small

    How to Release the Fear That Holds You Back and Keeps You Small

    “The purpose of fear is to raise your awareness, not to stop your progress.” ~Steve Maraboli

    I used to hate my fear because it scared me. It terrified me that when fear arose, it often felt like it was driving me at full speed toward the edge of a cliff.

    And if I were driven off a cliff, I would lose all control, all function, perhaps I would collapse, perhaps I would shatter into a million pieces. I was never totally clear on the details of what would happen if I let the fear get out of control. That’s because I spent most of my life trying to control it.

    It’s why, when things don’t go according to plan, when I am running late or things change at the last minute, I can get snappy and sound angry. I feel rage when people come along and do things that seem to amplify my fear—like my husband using the bathroom three minutes before the train is leaving, or not locking the front door at night with all its three locks.

    Oh, I had so much judgment around this fear. I hated it, but I hated even more that I seemed to be an overly fearful person. I felt disgusted and full of shame for not wanting to do things that other people seemed to find easy, like flying, or for freaking out when I was sick, thinking I was dying.

    I carried the shame of fear around with me, hoping I didn’t have to reveal it, and if I did, if I had to show people how terrified life made me, I would be horribly self-deprecating.

    Because I had this sense that I shouldn’t be like this. It wasn’t normal. So I blamed it on myself as a character default.

    That’s why I wouldn’t want to walk toward scary things. That’s why I avoided things that brought up the fear because if I didn’t, it would have driven me off the cliff so freaking quickly, and I’d think, how stupid could I have been to allow it?

    I see now that my fear lived at such a low-level frequency in my body that I didn’t notice it was there. It was on a low buzz all the time, like a refrigerator noise—not really in my awareness but controlling how I made decisions.

    I know this because, when I was really paying attention, I realized I was always trying to pick the least scary option. But when I kept choosing the least scary option, the least challenging to me, my life got smaller and smaller.

    I was not even really aware that I was doing this. It just felt like I was being sensible.

    But sometimes I would get this glimmer of another world where I did the most interesting and exciting things, like exploring alone somewhere new or taking a belly dancing class. Where I lived unleashed and unbounded by fear. I said what I meant, I did what I wanted, and I didn’t worry all the time about terrible things happening to my loved ones.

    Living a life immersed in fear felt like being bound with invisible rope that no one could see. And because people couldn’t see this rope, they would ask me to do things that I couldn’t possibly say yes to.

    Things started to change when I didn’t just ask how I could get the fear to stop, but I started to learn why there was so much fear in my body, where it came from, and how it was affecting how I experience life. So much of my fear came from a lack of emotional safety, and sometimes physical safety, as a child and young woman.

    When I learned to start being curious about the fear that confined me and not judge it as a character defect, I started unraveling it. This, along with some powerful emotional processing and nervous system regulation, transformed how I now experienced fear in my life.

    Here’s the thing: We don’t intentionally create bodies that can’t handle emotions like fear. We don’t intentionally create nervous systems that are jumpy and hyper-vigilant. We don’t create sensations of immense doom for pleasure.

    How we were taught to be with emotions, how we were taught to allow or not allow them, how we were cared for when we were in the midst of emotions—this all informs how we now deal with fear.

    It makes sense that fear feels too much for our bodies to handle when we have lived with too much fear; when we haven’t had enough emotional support of someone helping us hold that fear; when we’ve had experiences that have terrified us down to our very bones, that have stayed trapped in our bodies; when our lives have been rocked by tragedy; when sudden life-changing events shake any sense of stability from us; when fear has just been too much for too long.

    We need to learn how to provide deep emotional support, a sense of safety, love, empathy, and validation, to our bodies that have held so much pain and discomfort. We need to learn how to tend to and meet our needs.

    Emotions need to be seen, felt, and heard. When we haven’t learned how to do that, how to hold emotions and really be with them, we get pushed into a part of our brains where things feel deeply overwhelming and urgent—our survival reactions.

    It’s a part of our brain that uses primal methods for dealing with emotion—meant to be utilized in emergencies and when our survival is under threat, but too commonly used to discharge uncomfortable emotions. And none of these survival reactions feel good.

    When we are in our survival reactivity, we can feel doomed and trapped; we can feel like there are no options; we can feel the red mists of rage or a deep-freezing panic. We can go into overdrive doing too much, or sometimes we just slow down and shut off. Everything feels like too much.

    That’s why we feel we could go over the edge. That’s why we don’t feel safe. That’s why we desperately try to stay in control. Because we have this sense of an unknown, dark, and terrifying force in our bodies that feels like something beyond what we can handle.

    We don’t know how to deal with this part of our brain, these survival reactions, so we spend our lives attempting to control our fear, hoping that it won’t rear up and push us over the cliff edge.

    But there is another way. And it’s not by feeling the fear and doing it anyway. I couldn’t dislike that piece of advice more because of how wildly misunderstood it is. You can only feel the fear and do it anyway if you have a comfortable relationship with fear and it doesn’t push your nervous system into overwhelm and survival reactivity—where you feel like you are actually fearing for your life.

    If you are in survival mode, you don’t want to be pushing through anything.

    In fact, quite the opposite.

    You want to be doing everything to reassure yourself that you are physically safe, that there is no emergency, that all is well.

    And that is step number one. That’s the first place I go to when I feel the escalating sensations of fear.

    It’s learning to look after yourself and meet your needs in ways that maybe you have never done before. You learn to build your own safety, and to repair all the damage that has been done to that solid feeling of protection that others seem to have but you sense you deeply lack.

    There are several things you can do for this..

    1. Stop the overwhelm.

    My first suggestion is an exercise you can do when you feel you have entered that survival mode of things feeling like way too much—when you are overwhelmed, feeling doomed or trapped. This is an exercise called regulating breath. The aim is to activate your parasympathetic nervous system, which is where you are “resting and digesting.”

    It’s super simple—short, quick inhale, long exhale. Then repeat this until you are moving away from that deep overwhelm. It’s a signal to the brain that you aren’t unsafe; this isn’t an emergency; you are safe to move out of survival mode and back into your body. I use this breath daily to keep my nervous system regulated and feel a sense of physical safety.

    2. Be curious about why the fear is here.

    The fear didn’t just show up unannounced today. If the fear feels like too much, there is definitely a history that you can trace back. And when you know your history, it can help you drop a lot of the judgment that you feel about it.

    Ask your fear: Where have you been showing up in my life, and how far does this go back?

    3. Ask your fear what it needs.

    Uncomfortable emotions like fear are expressions of needs that have been unmet perhaps for all of your life. Needs like clarity, structure, peace, or consistency. When you can learn to really connect with your emotions and hear what they have to tell you, you can then start meeting those needs.

    I love to talk to my fear. I ask it questions on a regular basis. I ask my fear: What do you need? Why are you here? What are you trying to tell me?

    When I am able to really sit with the fear and hold it in my body, it will tell me things like: I’m just trying to keep you safe. I just want you to be protected. I don’t want you to do unsafe things!

    When I know that the fear just wants to keep me safe, I can then reassure it, and myself, that I can provide the safety that I need. That I know how to make good choices; I know, as an adult, how to look after myself.

    4. Offer empathy and validation.

    Give yourself the deeply nourishing support of validation and empathy. Fear is a normal emotion that manifests as physical reactions in the body because of how we’ve learned to be with emotion, or due to the limited support we have received around big, challenging experiences.

    When you recognize this, you can start to not judge your reactions. You can say to yourself: It makes sense that you feel like this. It’s okay, I’ll stay with you. I will support you through this. 

    You can give yourself the tender validation and empathy you would offer to someone you deeply love—your child, a friend, your partner. You can treat yourself as someone deserving of being wrapped in beautiful, loving empathy.

    When you do things like double-check the locks at night or keep checking your phone to see if your teenager has messaged, when you are asked to take a trip to a place you haven’t been to before, instead of getting lost in the fear or loading yourself down with shame about it, offer empathy and validation instead.

    “You know what? This is bringing up a lot of fear. And it’s understandable that I have fear around this; it’s completely okay. So I am going to support myself through this feeling. I am going to tend to my needs around this feeling. And I am only going to do what feels best for me. What feels right for my body right now.”

    By meeting the needs your emotions are expressing we start to change our relationship with the emotions we find most uncomfortable. When we try to white-knuckle through, we often end up more rattled, more exhausted, more overwhelmed, and sometimes with more trauma than if we had actually taken tender, gentle care of ourselves.

    And by taking loving care of ourselves, by showing up and giving our feelings—and our sense of overwhelm—attention, we can end up naturally starting to want to do those things that maybe we were too scared to do before.

    By giving ourselves the empathy that our emotions so yearn for, we create a much deeper, more loving and trusting connection with ourselves. When we know how to emotionally support ourselves then we can learn how to emotionally support other people.

    My relationship with fear is a work in progress. Sometimes it slips out of my grasp and escalates before I have the chance to process it. But I know now that I can always bring myself back from that edge. I can always bring my nervous system back into regulation, even when it feels a bit messy.

    When we know that we can handle any emotion that comes our way, we have so much more freedom in our lives to make the choices we want to make instead of just choosing the least scary thing.

    Fear is a normal part of life. It’s there to help us stay safe and protected and make good choices. But sometimes, when we have had experiences that have intensified our fear, we can end up keeping ourselves small. Changing how we take care of ourselves to support ourselves in these big emotions is a great first step to living a more exciting, fulfilling life. I hope these tips have been helpful.