Tiny Buddha

Tag: fight

  • How I Found Peace After Feeling Disregarded and Disrespected

    How I Found Peace After Feeling Disregarded and Disrespected

    “Self-care is also not arguing with people who are committed to misunderstanding you.” ~Ayishat A. Akanbi⠀

    It was an early evening in late June of 2020. My housemate and I were eating sushi in our backyard while crickets tuned up for their nightly symphony around us.

    To our right loomed a voluminous green tree, imposing in height but with a texture (furry and cuddly like a Sesame Street character) that made it seem friendly.

    I could’ve really used a friendly creature right then.

    Hours earlier we’d found out that our housemate—who’d contracted COVID while on vacation with a fourth housemate—would be returning home the following day.

    I’d expressed my discomfort with this, in no uncertain terms; however, my housemates had dismissed me and maintained their plans to return home regardless.

    I considered my options. One would be to stay at home. Even if my housemates didn’t transmit the virus, the CDC had advised (when sharing a house with a COVID positive person) to quarantine. I’d pause my life for two weeks, foregoing my income (as a freelance Spanish interpreter my assignments had not yet been moved to Zoom) while living with the anxiety of potentially contracting the virus.

    *This was pre-vaccine, when knowledge of COVID and its long-term effects was minimal. People (younger ones included) were dying from the illness daily. I was experiencing mysterious health symptoms at the time, so my health felt especially fragile. Months later I’d discover the cause to have been Celiac disease.

    Option two would be to stay at motels. I’d spend some of my savings while continuing to pay rent on the apartment I was leaving behind—but my health would be spared. I’d also be able to continue working, which would help to cover these costs.

    I was leaning toward the latter and expressed my line of thinking to my housemate as we ate our meal out back.

    There was more nuance to the interaction than I’m able to capture here, but basically, the news of the uninvited COVID house guest hadn’t fazed this housemate, and she seemed visibly annoyed that their decision was causing me anxiety.

    Here was the gist of our exchange:

    “You could catch COVID from one of the hotel maids,” she said. “Hotels aren’t safe.”

    “Less safe than sharing a house with a COVID positive person?” I challenged.

    Sensing my frustration and incredulousness, her face hardened. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore,” she said firmly, her tone suddenly icy and sharp.

    A butterfly had just landed on my chopsticks. To keep calm, I focused my eyes on its gently fluttering orange wings. I continued focusing on them while my housemate stood up, picked up her sushi debris, and walked back toward the house.

    **

    After packing my belongings, leaving the house, and relocating, my emotions fluctuated throughout the week. An internal tug-of-war of, “Just accept the decision they made and let it go / No don’t, your needs and feelings are valid and that wasn’t okay,” played out various times.

    I’d have understood if either housemate had contracted COVID at work or the supermarket, or under any other circumstance that falls largely outside of one’s control. Or if they’d already been home, I would never have asked them to leave.

    That they’d gotten sick in another county though, despite CDC’s strong desperate plea for people to refrain from traveling—and had then knowingly brought it home—made all the difference.

    I brought these concerns up again during a video call with my housemates after I’d been gone for five days, only to be dismissed once more. My housemates suggested that if I didn’t like it, then maybe I should find another place to live (no matter that I’d been living there before them and had even chosen them as housemates).

    After our call ended, the room around me spun as I sat there processing that nowhere in my housemates’shared consciousness had there seemed to be any acknowledgment of my reality or validation of my perspective.

    Moving out indeed seemed like the most sensical and emotionally healthy option.

    I’d left a few weeks earlier feeling like I was fleeing a burning building. While gone, I realized that the fire would have continued blazing had I continued living with them—long after my housemate recovered and COVID ceased being a threat.

    It would be because my trust and emotional safety were broken for me now. When in place, these things provide light and warmth. When they’re broken, that light turns into flames. I felt like my options would have been to armor up indefinitely, or to leave the burning house behind.

    Certain issues (when small enough) can be swept under the carpet. Some are mere annoyances best handled by simply letting go. I’d done that with some of my housemates’ prior behaviors that had bothered me.

    But this one felt too big to fit.

    **

    The day I returned to the house to pack up my belongings, I thought about how different things had been just a few months prior. How at the start of shelter in place, the four of us seemed to be getting along—becoming, if not friends, at the very least friendlier.

    How abruptly things had taken a turn.

    The emotionally stressful situation brought to light two important lessons for me.

    One was that we each have to be our own best protectors.

    My housemates had described their decision to come home as a boundary, which I suppose it technically was (in my opinion, a harmful and inconsiderate one). They were entitled to return, and I couldn’t physically stop them.

    And while they had a right to that boundary, I had a right to decide I wasn’t safe with people who’d feel okay with setting such a boundary despite the stated impact it would have on a person they were coexisting with. I had a right to decide that their boundary was incompatible with my receiving the care, respect, and consideration that I both need and provide in return.

    If others are disrespecting us or disregarding our well-being, we can decide our hearts aren’t safe with them. We can remove them from their reach.

    If they’re uninterested in considering your perspective, don’t try harder to explain it in a way they’ll understand. They don’t deserve the ego boost of having you chase their acceptance.

    We can’t and won’t change others’ behavior. We can only care for our own selves.

    I try now to spend less time attempting to prove the validity of my perspective to people who simply don’t want to hear it. I try to spend more time making decisions that are healthy for my mind, body, and spirit.

    More time on surrounding myself with people around whom I don’t even feel tempted to over-explain—because their care and consideration for me keep that impulse from activating to begin with.

    We all deserve people like this in our lives. But in order for them to surround us, we must remove ourselves from situations that are harming us.

    The second lesson I took was that people who harm us don’t deserve our time or mental energy.

    Following what happened, there was so much I wanted to say. There were comments I thought my former housemates deserved to hear. There were character evaluations I felt tempted to launch their way.

    Ultimately, though, I saved my energy, communicating only about practical matters such as getting back my deposit (which they initially attempted to withhold from me).

    After finding a new living situation, I poured my efforts into friendships; into long phone conversations and Zoom calls.

    I immersed myself in my interpreting work.

    I cooked healthy meals that nourished me.

    I pet the sweet cats who wandered through my backyard.

    I wrote, spent time with my nephew, processed what had happened with a therapist, devoured books, and did my best to heal from the emotional pain that the whole situation and its bitter ending had caused me.

    I also paid attention to moments of goodness—recalling how the morning I left for the motel, I’d approached my car, bags in hand, to find the back window shattered. The glass littering the surrounding pavement felt symbolic of what was happening with my living situation.

    A neighbor had asked if I needed help. Mask on, he came out with a broom and dustpan. He helped me sweep up the glass. Spikes of it still hung from the back window. We broke them off together so that I wouldn’t be driving around with the shards.

    A small audience of neighbors beheld the scene. Kids watched the glass shatter and land against the seats of my car. They watched it rain down onto the pavement.

    In short, I redirected energy I would have spent on vengeful thoughts onto improving my life.

    I want my energy. I want my equanimity and mental stillness. I don’t believe they deserve the satisfaction of taking those things from me.

    Because as Carolina de Robertis put it in her novel The President and the Frog:

    “Rancor and revenge could keep you mired in the past, a swamp of which he wished to be free; [her character] couldn’t afford that sort of thing, there was too much to do in the here and now.”

    Sometimes it’s better to choose peace over righteousness. Above all, it’s your own heart and mind that most stand to benefit.

  • 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.

  • Dear Parent of an Estranged Adult: What Might Repair Your Relationship

    Dear Parent of an Estranged Adult: What Might Repair Your Relationship

    Dear estranged parent,

    I know it’s not easy to feel cut off from your child when you still feel love and maybe even remorse. I know you might feel confused about why your adult child is so upset, and you might even feel angry and wrongly accused.
    Perhaps there’s some truth to that. I don’t know why your child cut ties with you, but I can share a little of my own experience and then offer some tips that might help, regardless of your unique situation.

    So why did your son or daughter cut you out of their life?

    I can’t speak to the specifics of your situation, but I can offer you some insights from my own experience and I can talk about common themes expressed by my community of estranged adults.

    Before I go any further, I need to remind you that everyone remembers and experiences the same events differently. For example, you might remember the fun family trip to Disneyland where everyone was together and had a good time, but your son or daughter might remember getting yelled at or you and your spouse fighting.

    I’m not trying to invalidate your feelings but simply to remind you to be open to the possibility that your child may remember or may have experienced events differently.

    I tried to have a relationship with my parents for many years before I made the hard decision to cut them out of my life. I would seek validation for my academic accomplishments, but all they would notice were the mistakes I’d made, and they would repeatedly highlight them.

    I’m not saying I was perfect, but a little love and affirmation would have gone a long way. Each rejection left me feeling hurt. I questioned my self-worth and became depressed. Still, I tried to maintain a relationship with them, despite the fact that it took a toll on my health.

    I showed an interest in my mother’s life, and every time I came back to visit, I did my best to be helpful around the house and attend to their needs in any way I could.

    My parents would criticize me repeatedly, even in front of friends and family members, and I was left feeling smeared and demeaned. All of my actions were met with judgmental negativity.

    If I tried something new, my father would list all the reasons why he thought I was going to fail, while my mother would take sadistic joy in my failures. My parents never wanted anyone to see the good in me or even to allow me to see the good or the potential within myself. I was always a failure in their eyes—a common theme among estranged adults.

    My parents also repeatedly failed to respect my boundaries and at times would list off reasons why I could not have the ones I had set. They often guilted me for having boundaries or even basic needs.

    My parents never admitted the hurt they caused me. They never admitted the years of abuse and neglect. It was always somehow my fault. They were also unwilling to listen or allow me to have a productive conversation about my feelings. Again, I’m not saying I’m perfect, but I didn’t deserve to be treated in the manner I was during my formative years.

    Each time I would invite them to come visit me or take an interest in my life they gave me a list of reasons why they couldn’t come or why I was not good enough for them to bother caring.

    Each interaction cut me deeper, causing me to get depressed and shut down.

    When I got engaged, my father listed all the reasons why he thought my relationship would fail, and my mother expressed frustration at the thought of having to help me plan a wedding. I couldn’t force them to care, and the tremendous emotional effort I was making was taking a toll on me. I felt I had no choice but to accept that the relationship I so desperately wanted would never be and let go.

    For me, this was the right decision because it freed me from the bondage of hope that one day I might be good enough and it allowed me to live a meaningful and happy life.

    I must reiterate that there is a reason your son and daughter has cut you out of their life because no one would make this decision lightly.

    If you care about rebuilding a healthy relationship with your estranged child, these are some steps that you can take.

    Realize that people remember events differently and be open to seeing their perspective.

    Sometimes we remember things so differently that we’re inclined to deny the other person’s reality. Please don’t do this, as it will only create walls and cause them to recoil and pull away.

    If your child says they did not like it that you pushed them into doing sports and only cared about them winning games, don’t shut the conversation down by saying “You were good at sports.” If your child says that you always criticized them about their weight, don’t tell them that you were trying to help them lead a healthier lifestyle.

    Listen and try to understand their point of view. Simply allowing them space to share how they experienced their childhood can help them feel heard and respected.

    If it helps, keep communications in writing to start.

    Oftentimes, it’s hard to really hear what someone is saying when you feel attacked, accused, and emotional. If conversations are upsetting both parties, try communicating by e-mail so that you can read and reread what they have to say in order to digest the message being communicated. Try your best to understand their experiences and empathize with them whenever you can, and odds are they’ll be more willing to do the same for you.

    Avoid being critical.

    You may not agree with your child’s lifestyle or their actions, but repeatedly criticizing and voicing your disapproval will only cause them to pull away. Don’t call them names or make reference to their past failures. Work on being supportive and providing them with validation whenever possible.

    This might be hard to do if you feel they’re being critical of you. Criticism tends to shut people down—on both sides. But replacing criticism with validation can help heal old wounds.

    Be self-reflective.

    It can be hard for anyone to take a critical look at themselves and examine their actions in order to admit that they’ve harmed someone. This can be a painful process that forces you to see yourself in a new light. Sometimes, as painful as it is, it has to be done.

    This doesn’t mean that you are inherently bad. Most people parent as they were parented and repeat harmful patterns without realizing it.

    It takes tremendous courage to examine yourself and admit that you caused pain. Remember you don’t need to do this alone. Seeing a trained counselor or psychologist can help you understand yourself better.

    Take responsibility for your actions.

    Many estranged adults, myself included, never felt we got the apology we longed for. If you have wronged your adult child, even if you feel you were a good parent on the whole, own up to your mistakes and apologize. This simple act will go a long way toward rebuilding the relationship.

    Respect boundaries.

    It can be tough to honor a firm boundary when you feel an urget need to talk things out. But you can’t force someone to hear you until they’re ready. If your son or daughter has said that they don’t want to see you for the next month, don’t show up at their door. This will only leave them feeling intimidated and disrespected and cause them to pull away.

    Be willing to change your behavior.

    If your son or daughter has described behaviors of yours that bother them, make a conscious effort to change. Show them that you are capable of taking their constructive criticism and applying it. Listing off ways that you think you have changed isn’t enough. Your actions need to speak for themselves.

    This is, of course, a two-way street. Adult children are also capable of doing things that upset their parents. And in a perfect world, they’d hear you and make changes too, if necessary. But you can’t control their behavior—only your own.

    Understand that distance isn’t always permanent.

    Sometimes we need to take a break from family and friends in order to heal from childhood trauma and focus on our own health and well-being. This is a natural part of the healing process. If you have been asked to give your son or daughter space, honor their request.

    Never use guilt.

    As harsh as this might sound, your adult child doesn’t owe you anything. By inflicting guilt on them—telling them they should have a relationship with you because you’ve done and sacrificed so much—you invalidate their feelings and exert power and control that could cause them to pull away even further. It’s far better to create a new relationship from a foundation of mutual understanding than try to force one on a foundation of guilt and shame.

    Don’t try to buy them back.

    If your child asks you not to send gifts or give them money, don’t. You might think the gifts are a way to repair the relationship, but this never works and only breeds resentment. Estranged children can also see gifts as a means of exerting power and controlling, forcing us to feel obligated to have a relationship we do not feel comfortable having. Relationships can never be bought.

    Offer to go to therapy.

    This can feel intimidating at times, but your willingness to go will send a strong message that you’re open to rebuilding a healthy relationship. Many times it can be easier to talk about sensitive subjects in front of a trained neutral third party that can help us work through our emotions and misunderstandings. If your child declines your invitation to go to therapy, see a therapist on your own.

    Allow for growth and change.

    Some of the healthiest relationships we will ever have grow and change as we do. Don’t expect your child to like the same things or act the same way as they did before; this is simply not realistic. You must adapt and grow as they do and be open to the fact that the relationship may change.

    If all else fails, work on accepting the situation.

    Not every story has a happy Hollywood ending. Sometimes all we can do is accept the choices other people have made, let go, learn from the experience, and move on with our lives. If your child insists that they cannot have a relationship with you, respect their choices, as painful as this may be. Don’t contact them repeatedly. Remember that nothing in life can be forced, not even relationships.

    I’m not saying that parents are solely responsible for healing broken relationships with their children. We have to do our part too, but often we’ve tried for years only to feel invalidated, disrespected, and rejected.

    Had my own parents done any of these things it might have been possible to reconcile with them and work together to heal.

  • When You Strongly Disagree with Someone: How to Find Common Ground

    When You Strongly Disagree with Someone: How to Find Common Ground

    “The truth you believe and cling to makes you unavailable to hear anything new.” ~Pema Chodron

    I was recently having dinner with a group of friends, and I casually mentioned that I’ve been making more effort in my life to help prevent climate change.

    Across the table, someone looked straight at me and said, “You know human-induced climate change isn’t real, right?”

    I was shocked because I’ve known this person for years, and we’ve always agreed on important topics in the past. I immediately shot back with, “Umm, yes it is!” and proceeded to tell him exactly why he was so wrong.

    I’ll spare you the gory details, but let’s just say the rest of the conversation didn’t go well. It gradually got more and more heated until we were the only two people talking (read: yelling) at each other across the table.

    In the end, someone shut the argument down by saying, “You’ll just have to agree to disagree.” We both took the hint, retreated into our corners, and glared at each other for the rest of the evening.

    A few days later, I was relating the incident to another friend. In all honesty, I was looking for an ally who would help stoke my righteous indignation. But instead of nodding and agreeing with me, she said, “It sounds a lot like you were trying to force your beliefs on him and got mad when he wouldn’t back down.”

    This comment stuck with me, and over time I was forced to admit she was correct. I was so caught up in being right that I had refused to accept anyone could believe differently. Even worse, emotion had completely taken over, and I’d made no effort to find common ground or try and see things from a different perspective.

    In hindsight, I’ve realized I was missing the larger truth that we all believe we are seeing the world as it should be. Our entrenched beliefs become part of our identity because they help us make sense of the chaotic world we live in. And when someone holds a radically different view to our own, it shakes the foundation of our own beliefs and makes us feel off balance and insecure.

    But the good news is, no matter how differently you see the world from someone else, there’s always a way to find some common ground. Here are six tips I’ve learned to help have productive, respectful conversations and open your mind to different perspectives.

    1. Focus on the outcome.

    When you get bogged down arguing about specifics, take the argument up as many levels as you need until you find common ground.

    For example, in the case of climate change, we could have both easily agreed that the environment is important and we want to leave the world a better place for our kids. We just have different views on how to get there. This is a great way to reset the conversation because you’re focused on discussing the outcome rather than winning the argument.

    2. Understand their perspective.

    Learning the underlying reason why someone believes something can help you see a different side of the issue. It might not change your mind, but it will help you treat the other person with more empathy and give you fresh ideas to discuss.

    For example, someone’s refusal to accept climate change might be caused by concern about the negative effects it will have on their life. Maybe transitioning to renewable energy means they will lose their job or be forced to change their lifestyle in ways they don’t want to accept.

    If you can understand these underlying concerns, you’ll be much more likely to find common ground and have a productive discussion.

    3. Separate emotion from logic.

    A stressful argument can hijack the prefrontal cortex—the part of the brain responsible for critical thinking and decision-making. When this happens, you go into “fight or flight” mode and become more likely to react emotionally, think less creatively, and say things without thinking them through.

    The next time you find yourself getting angry or defensive in an argument, take a step back and try to de-escalate your emotions by acknowledging them. Once you’re feeling more logical and calm, you can start to look for common ground again.

    4. Practice active listening.

    Active listening is a communication technique that involves hearing, paraphrasing, and responding to what the other person is saying. It’s an essential skill for finding common ground because it shows that you’re genuinely interested in understanding their perspective.

    The next time you’re in an argument, try repeating back what the other person has said in different words to make sure you’ve understood them correctly. Then, add your perspective to what they’ve said. For example, “I can see why you feel that way, but I also think…”

    5. Be mindful of your own biases.

    We all have biases—it’s part of being human. We want to win arguments, be right, and be liked, so it’s easy to fall into the trap of only listening to information that supports our point of view.

    In this case, I was forced to admit that I haven’t actually read any of the climate change research myself. My beliefs are almost entirely based on existing in a bubble with other like-minded people who reinforce those beliefs.

    Exposing yourself to different perspectives—even if you don’t agree with them—can help you think more critically about your own beliefs. It might even help you find common ground where you thought there was none.

    6. Remember that differing views are important.

    If everyone agreed on everything, the world would be a pretty boring place. But even more importantly, differing ideas help to push society forward. They challenge us to think critically about our own beliefs and come up with new solutions to problems.

    So the next time you find yourself in an argument with someone, try to see it as an opportunity to learn and grow rather than a chance to prove your point. You might just be surprised at how much common ground you can find.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

    Words are powerful. Choose them wisely.

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

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

    “Quiet!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  • What Your Anger Is Trying to Tell You and How to Hear It

    What Your Anger Is Trying to Tell You and How to Hear It

    “When we embrace anger and take good care of our anger, we obtain relief. We can look deeply into it and gain many insights.” ~Thich Nhat Hanh

    It just took a few words from my husband before I felt my body move from calm to a boiling cauldron of rage. My whole being was alight, in flames. Energy felt like it was moving through me and shattering everything inside me.

    I hated it. Anger is so intense, and so big, that most of us can’t bear to feel it in our bodies.

    I wanted to do a lot of things—shout at him, throw things, scream the house down, offer rageful thoughts to anyone who would listen.

    I wanted this anger out of my body. NOW.

    In the past I have reacted to these inner sensations and launched arguments that could last hours or even days. I would rarely get anything other than anger back from my husband, and a continuous wrangling over who was wrong and why.

    It was painful and corroding to our relationship, feeling like a bomb would go off and we would spend days dealing with the damage.

    Until I learned that the source of my anger wasn’t my husband. Or my kids, or that person on Facebook, or politicians or corrupt business people.

    The source of my anger wasn’t outside of me, but within. And it was situations that were activating this anger. Until I learned how to deal with the anger, it would keep coming up over and over again, in ways that felt too overwhelming and painful for me.

    I was suppressing anger most of the time because I didn’t feel safe letting it out, but when it did come out it felt too strong and too damaging. It felt repulsive, overwhelming, dominating.

    Boiling rage. Painful flames of righteous anger tearing through my body. A sensation that the anger was smashing bits inside me.

    Anger is a hard emotion for most of us to feel. It’s got so much energy, so much force, so much intensity to it. And as an emotion, if we express anger, we usually get the most negative response back.

    Anger is frightening. It’s unbearable to hear, it sends shivers through us if we walk past someone angry and fuming.

    But when we suppress anger, when we don’t allow it to come up it gets trapped in our bodies, the energy of it creating havoc inside. For me it felt like it was trapped in my jaw, which was so often sore from clenching and squeezing my muscles.

    I didn’t want to feel overwhelmed by anger anymore. I wanted to be a woman who could be with it, feel it, and not explode or fall apart or trap its tension in my body.

    I started to become intimate and friendly with my anger. I started to recognize when it was coming up in my body—in small doses sometimes, activating minor annoyances in my life.

    “Oh, anger! There you are, I see you lurking there in the shadows.”

    And the times when I would feel a huge surge of it in my body, when my kids would say something, or I’d receive an unpleasant email or read something on Facebook.

    “Oh, lots of anger here now! Okay, I see your anger. You’re here, I understand.”

    And by noticing when it came up inside of me, I began to see how often it was a thread in my life. And by noticing it I started, in a small way, to provide some relief for myself.

    The thing that I would then do, which made such a beautiful and healing difference, especially when huge surges of anger came my way—like when my husband said that thing and I wanted to shout shout shout at him—is to give myself time, space, love and support

    I stay with myself and don’t react externally.

    I don’t blame what I see as the source of my anger, but really isn’t.

    I tend to myself with a loving touch of my heart. (When touch on the body lasts over twenty seconds it releases oxytocin, the love hormone.)

    I give myself loving words—Di, I see this anger is really painful. It’s so big, so overwhelming.

    I ask myself, where is this in my body, how is it feeling?

    All of this attention on myself, at my reactions and how I am feeling, gives my body the signal that I am being deeply and lovingly cared for. I am safe to feel this feeling.

    I might do some relaxing breathing, giving a short inhale, followed by a long exhale which activates the rest-and-relax mode.

    I stay with myself as long as the emotion is there. “I’ve got you, Di! I can be with you through this feeling. I love you, Di.”

    And if I need to move and do something to help the energy pass through me, I do. I go for a walk, smash some rocks, squeeze or punch a pillow.

    Why this is so very important, why this makes so much of a difference in how we handle our emotions, is that it gives us the chance to let the energy of the emotion pass through. And when we do this repeatedly, we teach our system that emotions like anger are safe to be experienced, that we can hold and support ourselves through what life brings us.

    It also doesn’t make the situation worse by exploding at the person who may or may not have said or done something you didn’t like.

    If this is a situation that needs to be sorted out, if what was said or done needs discussion, it is infinitely more effective to wait for your anger to move through you until you are out the other side, than to talk to someone when you are in a rage.

    That’s because you are highly likely to activate their anger, as anger in others can feel like an attack on ourselves.

    And when we are deeply emotional, we can’t truly hear and empathize with other people, so we are just giving a speech, which the other person can’t hear if they’re also emotional!

    We risk escalating the situation further by saying and doing things we deeply regret. And, of course, we can also put ourselves in danger.

    If we want to be truly heard by someone, and if we want to create change, we have to wait until the emotion has passed. Then we have the best possible chance of coming to a positive agreement with someone else about what we didn’t like or want.

    Anger, like all emotions, can give us a unique understanding of what needs we have that aren’t being met. When we see the roots of what has activated the anger, we can see that there are often unmet needs to explore.

    For me, after that big rageful explosion, after I moved through the flames of anger and out the other side, I saw that I wanted more private space for myself to work uninterrupted so I could fully concentrate.

    It was a need I had been thinking about on and off for a while, but that I hadn’t really realized that it was upsetting me. It gave me the sense that I was last on the priority list as everyone else in the family had a space for private time.

    And so seeing that, I could then work on meeting that need, and reducing the chances of anger being activated around that subject again.

    Anger, what are you trying to tell me? I asked, and it told me.

  • How I Stopped Arguing with People in My Head and Cultivated Calm

    How I Stopped Arguing with People in My Head and Cultivated Calm

    “Thoughts fuel emotions. If you don’t like what you’re feeling, step back and examine what you’re thinking. Pain is inevitable, but you’ll suffer a lot less if you disengage from your thoughts.” ~Lori Deschene

    The warm droplets from the shower are bouncing off my skin. I could be relishing in the warmth. I could be exhilarated by the cleansing power of this precious water.

    Instead, I am entranced by an argument.

    I’m animated and tense. Gesticulating wildly and frowning.

    In the shower.

    There’s no one else there. I’m not shouting or even speaking out loud. This is all happening in my mind.

    Over and over, I rehash my position. Imagining my opponent’s rebuttal and conjuring up another defense. Each time I hone my argument feeling more certain that this is the winning strategy.

    Finally, I realize I’ve been in the shower for far too long. So I step out and start my day, barely noticing what had just happened.

    I’m driving to the shops. I could be singing along to my favorite tunes or discovering a new idea via a podcast.

    Instead, I am arguing in my head again.

    Yes, I’m paying attention to the road. Driving safely. Yet in the back of my mind the wheels are turning in constant mental warfare.

    I’m cozy in my bed, lying next to my beloved partner. I could be enjoying his reassuring presence. I could be calmly drifting off to sleep.

    Instead, I am resisting rest by mentally rehearsing conflict. Lost for minutes, hours perhaps? Time slipping away in a fog of hostility.

    In these quiet moments that I could be relishing, I’m filled with stress and tension.

    Who am I fighting? It doesn’t matter. It could be anyone.

    These arguments could be with family members, friends, or even strangers on the internet. If someone, somewhere has said something I disagree with, the mental argument is on!

    It took me years to realize how much my mental energy I wasted this way. And once you’ve seen it, you can’t unsee it.

    When I realized that these subconscious arguments were occurring, I began to see how frequent they were.

    Endless opportunities for calm and clarity were stolen by arguing with people in my head.

    Why I Would Mentally Argue with People

    In my quieter moments—showering or drifting to sleep—my subconscious thoughts were becoming conscious.

    Feeling like my nervous system was on high alert was not a new feeling to me. But realizing how much stress I was creating in my body and mind during these argumentative moments was confronting.

    It took so much effort for me to be a calm person, and I had been practicing for years. I thought I was making progress. I thought I was calmer than I had ever been.

    But witnessing this internal mental conflict was disheartening. My mind was a merry-go-round of malevolence.

    In her seminal book, How Emotions Are Made, neuroscientist Lisa Feldman Barrett outlines a new theory of how emotions work.

    Emotions are not a reaction to a stimulus. Emotions are stories that we construct from the internal and external sensory information presented to our brain from moment to moment.

    As Lisa says, “An emotion is your brain’s creation of what your bodily sensations mean, in relation to what is going on around you in the world.”

    I was constructing arguments to deal with stress I felt on a regular basis.

    And that stress? It was from complex trauma.

    How My Trauma Gave Rise to Mental Arguments

    It’s common to think of trauma as big things. War, violence, abuse, or neglect. But trauma isn’t about the event itself: it’s about how your body processed it.

    Trauma is a fundamental feeling of threat. A perceived lack of safety. It is anything that overwhelms your ability to cope. And there’s a lot that can overwhelm a child.

    And in the face of overwhelm, without consistent soothing from a calm caregiver, a child will grow up with a model of the world that is unsafe, inconsistent, and uncertain.

    Growing up as a highly sensitive person in an insensitive world, coupled with intergenerational trauma, led to a lot of overwhelm, anxiety, and depression for me.

    And as a traumatized highly sensitive person, my felt sense of safety was lacking.

    So I thought my mental arguments were a way for me to feel safe with other people. If I could get people to agree with me, and think like I did, then I knew they wouldn’t be a threat. We would all get along because we would all agree.

    But I misunderstood the purpose of these arguments. I thought I was dress rehearsing conflict in order to create safety.

    In reality, I was conflating existing stress with the need to argue.

    My body was feeling stress from unresolved trauma, and my brain was constructing stories of similar times I felt stress. During arguments.

    I wasn’t stressed because I was arguing, I was arguing because I was stressed.

    How I Stopped Arguing with People in My Head

    You’ve probably heard the term “safety first.” I couldn’t get to a place of mental calm without first developing a felt sense of safety in my mind and body.

    And even though I had been practicing meditation for years, there were a few very specific tools that helped me to find that safe feeling.

    1. EMDR

    EMDR stands for Eye Movement Desensitization & Reprocessing. It’s an incredible somatic therapy that is at the cutting edge of trauma treatment.

    Finding an EMDR therapist was a game changer. She helped me release many traumatic memories and start to feel safer overall.

    2. Cultivating calm

    The mind-body connection is well established. So, in order to have calm thoughts, I realized I also needed a calm body. In meditation I would practice embodying calm as much as possible.

    How much deeper could I make my calm? How much more could I sink into the bed or chair? How much more could I let go?

    3. Self-regulation

    A well-regulated nervous system can easily shift from stress to calm. And activating calm is a learned skill, called self-regulation.

    Learning to self-regulate as an adult was a difficult practice. First, I needed to pay attention to when dysregulation or stress was occurring.

    For me, signs I’m becoming dysregulated are talking more loudly, biting my nails, or constant movement like playing with my hair or jiggling my legs.

    Learning to recognize my increasing stress and breathe deeply or practice being still helped me to embody calm outside of my meditation practice.

    4. Calm relationships

    We are hardwired to need each other. And I think this gets overlooked a lot in the self-help world.

    Self-regulation is a vital skill. And there’s lots of ways you can learn to self-soothe. But we also need calm relationships. Calm families. Calm communities.

    In fact, regulation can happen through relationships. This is called co-regulation. Ideally, it begins in childhood being consistently soothed by our caregivers.

    But co-regulation also continues in adulthood. And it happens through secure attachments with our friends and intimate partners. Co-regulation can even exist in a relationship with a trusted therapist.

    Having a few close people that I could co-regulate with was vital for helping me to feel safe and calm.

    5. Letting go

    The final piece of the puzzle was realizing I didn’t need people to agree with me in order to feel safe. I can have strong values and disagree with people and still be okay.

    Letting go of the need to be right… of the need to change someone else’s mind… of the need to create safety through validation… was liberating.

    I’m no longer as triggered by differences of opinions. I’ve freed up so much mental energy. My creative output has skyrocketed. And I regularly feel a sense of calm clarity.

    Takeaway

    Becoming a calm person isn’t easy. We are buffeted by chaos and suffering all around us. But learning to feel safe in my body, to let go of mental conflict, and embodying calm has been life changing for me. I hope that by sharing my story, you can find a greater sense of calm in your life too.

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

    Hurt by Negative People? How to Stop Taking Things Personally

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

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

    It’s our relationships.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

    We all Have Emotional Scars from the Past

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

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

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

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

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

    We all See Ourselves Through Others’ Eyes

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

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

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

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

    Learning to Connect in a Different Way

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

    We’re All in the Same “Life” Boat

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

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

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

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

  • Surviving a Dysfunctional Relationship: What I Wish I Knew and Did Sooner

    Surviving a Dysfunctional Relationship: What I Wish I Knew and Did Sooner

    “No person is your friend who demands your silence or denies your right to grow.” ~Alice Walker

    When I was a child and in my early teenage years, I was a free bird. I laughed easily, loved life, never worried, and dreamed big. I thought the best of others, the glass was always full. I never dreamed others would hurt me, and I had a joyful and playful attitude toward life.

    That was a long time ago.

    My breakdown started gradually and slowly with judgments from a very close and trusted family member I dare not name. This person, though probably well-intentioned, thought that you make someone stronger by criticizing them. They believed in knocking me down, throwing verbal punches to make me “resilient.”

    They believed in “hard love.” They watched while I faltered and sometimes suffered. They stood back and watched from the cheap seats, then critiqued my performance. Their assessment of me was rarely, if ever, encouraging and was full of arrogance and judgment.

    Well into my adult life, this trusted person threatened me after an ugly incident where they made a terrible judgment call. Instead of admitting their error, they threatened me and made it my fault by saying, “If you ever tell anyone about this, I will disown you.”

    Shuddering under the weight of those words, I decided to sever ties with this person once and for all.

    Those words, “If you ever tell anyone about this, I will disown you…” said so much about this person who I have struggled to understand my entire life.

    For me, it was about as close to the admittance of wrongdoing I would ever get from them. And as always, there was the signature and ever-present judgmental spin. “I will disown you” because, after all, this is your fault, and you deserve punishment.

    I try to come to terms with the aftermath of the ugly side effects that this person has brought to my life.  Someone so blatantly flawed showed me my own weaknesses because I allowed them to erode my confidence and well-being.

    I regret not cutting ties sooner—like twenty years ago.

    As I sat in the aftermath of this situation, I wondered what good can possibly come from such a disappointing relationship? A lifetime of misunderstanding, jarring actions, harmful words, and hurt feelings—all from a person so close to me—someone I should trust, love and respect.

    Perhaps the answer lies in the decisive way I ended it after so many years of abuse. The final decision for me to end this relationship was my first real stand to protect myself. The first time I valued myself more than another person.

    The dysfunction of this relationship would not have come this far if I knew how to establish healthy boundaries early on and knew how to deal appropriately with a difficult person. I am nearly sixty years old and have learned my lessons the hard way.

    I like to share with you some easy strategies you can employ if you are struggling with a dysfunctional person in your life.

    1. Nothing you say or do will ever change them.

    Save yourself a lot of time and energy and come to terms with this reality. The only person you can change is yourself, which is the best place to focus your energy. You can control your reactions to this person, your opinions, and how you deal with them, but you can’t control them.

    They have to accept you for who you are, and likewise, you have to accept them for who they are.

    If you don’t like them or their behavior, you have to decide how you will deal with it. Maybe you only visit once a year or not at all. Perhaps you only call on the phone. Explore all the options that you feel will work for you and keep you safe, and try not to feel guilty about your decision.

    2. Set healthy personal boundaries.

    Healthy boundaries are essential not only for you in this relationship but within all relationships. Setting healthy boundaries with friends, your boss, your wife or husband, your children, with anyone is key to having healthy and fulfilling relationships.

    When you set healthy boundaries, you also allow the other people in your life to know what you expect and what you will or will not tolerate.  They will appreciate you for that.

    Setting healthy boundaries starts with knowing what irritates you, what pushes your buttons, what compromises you might make, if any.  Healthy boundaries have a lot to do with knowing your core values. Start with a shortlist of core values important to you. Know them and stick by them, and when someone challenges those values, be ready to protect them because they are there to protect you.

    Also, choose your words carefully when setting clear boundaries. For example, saying, “You insulted me, so I am out of here,” is not as effective as saying, “Your words (specify the words you find insulting) are insulting to me, and if you continue to talk to me like that I will have to leave.”

    Everyone deserves a chance to change their behavior for the better. However, act decisively and immediately if your boundary is crossed.

    3. Whether it is a friend or family member, people who constantly cross your boundaries and challenge your values don’t deserve your energy.

    Being decisive like this is called standing up for yourself. You can walk away and come back another day—or not.

    If you don’t stand up for yourself early, people will chip away at your inner confidence and make you resentful and even potentially volatile. Don’t let things get that bad.

    Make yourself strong from the inside out, rely on your judgments. Don’t listen to other people who persuade you to ignore your guidance. Only you can know whether someone is violating your inner self.

    4. You are not a bad person for deciding to step back or even end the relationship.

    Tell yourself that you are not a bad daughter, son, wife, husband, mother, whatever. You are not bad for deciding to end a volatile relationship that has left you drained, eroded, and empty.

    Maybe you could have done things differently or better or sooner, but you didn’t and couldn’t, and you did your best. You had good reasons to step away or even leave the relationship; accept that and don’t beat yourself up over it. Self-preservation will always make you a better person in a relationship, and indeed, it will make you a better person out of it as well.

    —

    There is a great deal of wisdom that can be learned from years of perseverance and working your way through challenging lessons. It was my choice to stay in a dysfunctional relationship, perhaps too long, in a place that clipped my wings.

    I now know the true value of standing strong in who I am, and not basing my self-acceptance on the way others treat or view me.  That wisdom is profoundly liberating and once again I can be free, like a bird with newly feathered wings.

  • You Can Have a Tender Heart and Still Be Fierce

    You Can Have a Tender Heart and Still Be Fierce

    “Life is a balance between what we can control and what we cannot. I am learning to live between effort and surrender.” ~Danielle Orner

    For too long, I felt myself pulled between two shores of my identity. On one side was my yoga teacher, meditator, healer identity—my tender side. On the other side was my activist, change-maker role—my fierce side.

    I always felt like I was too tender for some and too fierce for others. It made me feel like I didn’t fit in anywhere.

    Definitely the soft-hearted “woo” person in my activist circles. And I was definitely the one talking about structural oppression and other activist ideas in my yoga teacher trainings. (The ahimsa lecture was always a sticky one.)

    What I now know is that both of these sides of myself are valid. Both are necessary for living in the world, whether you want to bring healing, love, and light—or whether you want to really shake things up.

    The problem is not that both of these exist (both do, in all of us). The problem is what happens when they are out of balance.

    When we favor our tender side too much, we might succumb to heartbreak and collapse. If we let our fierce side get too strong, our anger might consume us until we flame out. Either option is a recipe for burnout and exhaustion.

    This is your official permission slip to embrace both of these sides of yourself.

    When I became a mom, my perspective shifted dramatically. While I aimed to be a tender, safe container for my baby, I also had to be a warrior-advocate for him on a number of fronts.

    New motherhood was also a time when I had to admit vulnerabilities in myself like I never had before, while having less access to outlets for my fierce activism. I had to admit that I had no idea what I was doing; that I needed help; and that I needed to take a step back from certain areas of life.

    It was tender. And it was an act of fierce self-love. I learned that we needed both, not just within us, but at the same time.

    My self-care also shifted. I couldn’t procrastinate or be wishy-washy anymore. I had to clearly (sometimes fiercely communicate) my needs.

    I also had to slow way down and shift my expectations for myself. I had to invite a sense of tenderness into my days, even when it would have been much easier to push harder. I incorporate a sense of flow into my days, even when it feels challenging to allow myself that.

    That looks like taking dedicated, structured time for myself and my work when my energy is high. And it looks like easing off a little bit when my energy is lower. This requires clear communication with those around me, and a lot of grace for myself.

    It takes both the fierce side and the tender side, working together.

    Now, I’ll be honest: Society is sometimes not wild about folks being fierce and tender. It can be very gendered: men are expected to be tough and fierce; women are expected to be sweet and tender. So we’re breaking the rules.

    But trust me when I say that it’s worth it. It’s worth it to embrace your whole self. Ultimately, those around you (and the world!) will benefit from you showing up as your complete self.

    Yes, our fiery side will make some folks uncomfortable, just the way our vulnerabilities will. Everyone will survive that discomfort. Just remember that your tender heartbreak is valid—as is your fierce desire to create transformation.

    Sometimes it feels as though nuance is no longer welcome—that we’re reduced to what we can fit into an Instagram caption. But you are allowed to be complicated.

    There’s a myth that being fierce isn’t spiritual—that we’re all supposed to be perfectly calm all the time. That just isn’t true. Our fierce side—or any other reaction to oppression or the state of the world—is just a set of conditions we’re working with.

    Anger is simply another part of our experience. In fact, it offers us grist for our practice. Beyond our own individual practice, our fierce side is a lamp to illuminate injustice and show the path forward.

    On the other hand, there’s a misconception that if we’re “too” tender, then we’ll crumple when the going gets tough. It’s true that we don’t want to become victim to our emotions. It is a gift to be able to work with them skillfully.

    Our tenderness, though, is actually an asset. Tenderness allows us to perceive our interconnection more easily—to recognize ourselves in others, and vice versa. It is the foundation of a more compassionate world.

    This is why I (and we) need both. When there’s too much of one, we fall out of balance. There are gifts to embracing both, of being somewhere in the middle.

    To create more of this balance, it’s important to know your tendencies. Do you tend toward the fierce side or the tender side? With that information, you can navigate ways to create more equilibrium and communication between those two sides.

    If you tend more toward the fierce side, practice getting in touch with the feelings underneath any anger or reactivity. Remind yourself that it’s okay to feel tender and vulnerable. Place your hands over your heart and breathe, if you’re having trouble getting in touch with your tenderness.

    If your natural state is more tender, practice taking action in service of what breaks your heart. Getting into action creates a sense of empowerment. Taking action (even small actions) regularly may help you release the feelings of helplessness you might be feeling.

    Above all, remember the root of your caring. Whether it comes from a place of fierce protection or tender nurturance, these feelings are reminders that you care.

    We are all allowed to hold all of our parts, all at the same time, even if some of them don’t seem to fit at first.

  • What Happens When We Assume the Worst of People We Love

    What Happens When We Assume the Worst of People We Love

    “Before you assume, learn. Before you judge, understand. Before you hurt, feel. Before you say, think.” ~Unknown

    There we were on a Saturday afternoon doing such benign things as running errands at Costco, Trader Joes, and the post office. Excitement galore.

    Yet, it would be a day I came to a major realization, understanding something I already knew in theory but wasn’t putting into practice.

    Here’s the realization: Mind reading in relationships leads to confusion, resentment, frustration, and name-calling.

    I’m not talking about psychic mind reading either! I’m referring to the kind of mind reading that you likely do every day, all the time, likely without even realizing it.

    Mind reading is when you assume you know what another person is thinking or feeling without direct evidence. In other words, you’re assuming their thoughts, beliefs, and intentions (and you’re usually assuming the worst).

    Big mistake.

    What Does Mind Reading Look Like?

    Here’s an example from the day I mentioned at the start of the post: We went to Costco and got a few things, and I asked him if he wanted to grab some sushi for lunch after. “Nope. I’m good” was his reply.

    “Hmmm. Well, thanks for asking me if I’m hungry,” I thought to myself. At this point I was sort of simmering in my own irritation but trying not to think about it.

    I’ve been battling this theory in my mind that no one really cares about me or my needs at all and that everyone else on the planet is selfish twit.

    So, another twenty minutes went by and he said, “We can go grab something small to eat if you want.”

    Cool! I was starving. That red bull on an empty stomach sure didn’t help.

    We needed to drop off the stuff at home first. As I was putting our groceries in the fridge, I pulled out two leftover sausages and threw them up on the counter to dump in the trash. We needed room and they looked icky.

    He immediately grabbed the sausage and a plate and started cutting them into pieces.

    I was mortified and pissed. What the hell????

    All I could think to myself is, “He doesn’t care about me or if I’m hungry. He’s hungry, so he’s going to eat and he’s going to do what he wants like he always does. Jerk.”

    My mind leapt right to it. I went right to assuming bad intentions and to assuming he doesn’t care about me or my needs. Quite a leap from him eating two sausages, I know.

    But instead of saying, “I’m hungry. I thought we were going to go eat. What’s up?” I yelled at him and blurted out, “It seems like you don’t care about me and the fact that I’m hungry, and you’re going to do what you want and you only care about yourself and you’re being a selfish jerk.”

    Oooops.

    What’s the Truth?

    His response was to look at me like a deer in headlights because he had absolutely no idea what I was getting so mad about, why I was yelling, or why he was suddenly a selfish jerk.

    At first, I was happy with myself. I had told him my feelings, right? I had stood up for myself. I had told him how I felt instead of pretending I wasn’t mad and always letting everything be okay. This was good, right?

    Actually, no, it wasn’t good.

    I had to stomp around for a while and simmer down, but as time went on, I realized we needed to resolve the issue, so I calmly asked him if he understood why I was upset.

    Of course, he didn’t. I tried to explain my side and where I was coming from and how my feelings were hurt by his insensitivity, but as he kept talking, I concluded that the issue wasn’t him being selfish. The issue was that I misunderstood him. I assumed he was being selfish. I inferred negative behavior toward him when all he wanted was a sausage.

    The truth is he thought I was putting the sausage up there for him to eat. He would eat the two sausage, still be hungry, and then we’d go have lunch. No harm. No foul.

    The poor guy thought he was doing what I wanted him to do and instead I called him names. My bad.

    I realized that my natural inclination to think that people are out to get me (which stems from childhood sexual abuse) is a problem, and that it’s my job to curtail this problem and stop acting out on it. I may feel a certain way, but that doesn’t make those feelings true.

    I need to be more careful about assuming the worst in my partner, and I need to be better at communicating my feelings more effectively (that’s an entirely different post).

    What to Do Instead of Assuming the Worst

    If you can relate to my story, first, you should try to remember that most people have good intentions. We all act to increase pleasure and avoid pain, and very few people go out with the intention to hurt you. Even when people do hurt you, they are likely still acting with good intentions for themselves rather than bad intention toward you.

    This doesn’t mean you put up with an abuser or a toxic relationship. It means when you are in a relationship with someone who cares but doesn’t always get it right according to your grand plan of the way the world should be, you stop assuming their intentions (especially if they’re negative), you give them the benefit of the doubt, and when in doubt, you ask.

    If you go around assuming the worst about your partner, you’ll get the worst.

    If you assume your partner doesn’t care about you, then you’ll end up with someone who doesn’t care about you.

    If you assume you know what your partner is thinking, think again.

    If you assume your partner knows what you’re thinking, think again.

    We go around assuming everyone else lives in our model of the world, and that’s just ridiculous. You have your childhood, your life experiences, your intelligence, your beliefs, and your emotional make-up, and everyone else has theirs.

    What we need is more compassion and understanding, and less mind reading and negativity.

    The truth is our entire argument (one-sided though it was) was based on a miscommunication and misunderstanding of the facts in evidence. The only true facts were 1. I put sausage out on the counter and 2. He started cutting up the sausage.

    Everything else was a complete assumption on my part.

    So, think about it next time you get upset with your partner. Do the facts support your belief(s), or are you assuming you know how they feel or why they’re acting the way they are? Are you assuming the worst of them, or are you assured that they care but maybe just suck at showing it the way you expect it?

    Only you have the power to control your thoughts, emotions, and reactions. Only you can seek to create a harmonious rather than a contentious relationship.

  • How to Fight Well in Your Relationship

    How to Fight Well in Your Relationship

    “Raise your words, not your voice. It is rain that grows flowers, not thunder.” ~Rumi

    I had one of those really intense arguments with my partner recently, and it made me realize the importance of knowing how to fight well in a relationship.

    That might sound like an oxymoron, but there isn’t a relationship I know of where the couple doesn’t fall out at one point or another. Fights can make or break a relationship. That’s why it’s important you know how to fight well—because the success of any relationship isn’t based on how well you manage the good times but on how well you can deal with the bad.

    Basically, it’s about how well you can learn to fight.

    Learning to fight well is important because it can help bring up lots of hidden stuff that’s been lying dormant for years; it enables you to be really honest with each other, which helps you develop deeper levels of trust; and studies have shown that learning to fight well can even improve the intimacy in your relationship.

    But back to our fight.

    It all started when I was out at friend’s house and lost track of the time. My partner and I had agreed to spend some quality time together that evening, and when I noticed the time, my heart sank. I knew she would be upset as I made the difficult call home, and yep, I was right. She was livid. We then descended into a really uncomfortable argument of blame and counter blame, with a bit of defensiveness thrown in for good measure.

    Criticism and defensiveness are two of the four horsemen of the apocalypse, as highlighted by renowned relationship experts Drs. John and Julie Gottman. They noticed these two traits are highly correlated to relationships that lead to breakup and divorce.

    Whenever my partner and I would have our worst arguments these two traits would always be present, and this time was no different.

    That’s why becoming more aware of how you fight can help you avoid relationship Armageddon and instead increase the trust, safety, and love in your relationship. To help with this here are seven key steps to follow when you feel as if you’re descending into another one of those earth shattering fights:

    1. Upgrade your language.

    Some arguments can help grow the relationship and develop greater levels of trust and intimacy between both parties. Other arguments are the opposite; they create a hierarchy and a power struggle, which diminishes respect, trust, and love.

    If we rewind to the start of our arguments we can predict to some extent their “success” by the language that started them and whether it was “hard” or “soft.”

    Hard language starts with generic hyperbole like “You always…” or “Why do you never…” or “I knew that you would…” Soft language uses “I” statements and focuses on the actions that took place, how they made us feel, and what we want to happen.

    My partner’s language that day was very “hard.” She criticized me and I immediately became defensive as the original story in my head started to change in response to her accusations. The firm agreement I knew we’d made became a tentative expectation in my mind. My lateness was no longer my responsibility but my friend’s, who had been delayed preparing food. Bit by bit I retold the story of what had happened and made myself into a victim of my circumstances instead of the owner that I really was.

    The language used at the start of our exchange influenced my response and how the subsequent argument progressed.

    The Gottman Institute reported that they can predict with 94% accuracy how a discussion will end based on the language used to start it. The softer and kinder our words, the less defensive we become, meaning we are more open to taking responsibility and creating connection instead of disconnection.

    A key principle to help with this is to use language to complain but don’t blame.

    2. Create space.

    Luckily, I had a one-hour drive home to work out what had happened and to get some perspective following our argument. I didn’t realize it at the time, but this was a crucial period because I used it to work through what had happened, and there’s no way we could have achieved such a good outcome without the time this gave us.

    I’ve learned that it’s wise to agree in advance to call a “timeout” or “press pause” before arguments begin. In the past I’ve attempted to call a timeout to create the space to calm down, but this has only made matters worse.

    My partner and I now have an agreement that if either of us needs to call a timeout in an argument the other will respect the request. It can be infuriating at the time, but arguing when you are in a low mood or heightened sense of emotion is never going to assist your dialogue. Therefore, it’s important to create space as much as you can.

     3. Safely express your emotions.

    On that drive home the first thing I did was shout and scream about what had happened. My inner child had a field day as I moaned and complained to my imaginary passengers about what she’d said and how wrong she was. It was fantastic, and a very cathartic way to clear the negative energy and emotions I was holding on to around the conversation.

    When we had the initial phone call I went into a stress response as my body became flooded with cortisol, and my heart rate went through the roof. Expressing my emotions and doing lots of deep breathing on the way home helped me flush the cortisol out of my body and return it to its original state. Without doing this I would have taken those negative emotions and feelings into the resumption of the fight on my return home.

    The intense emotions we have during a fight form a negative filter through which we see the relationship. There’s not much our partners can say that we won’t interpret the wrong way when we come from this place. That’s why it’s so important to clear the filter and express your emotions as best you can.

    It’s important to make sure that you find somewhere safe to do this, however. Doing it next to your partner won’t go down well, so get out of the house and find somewhere to express your emotions as cleanly and safely as possible so you don’t take it into your next fight,

    4. What if…?

    Once I’d let go of the emotions I started to calm down, and it was only then that I realized I could let go of the story I’d been telling myself. It was at this point I decided to tell myself a new story that started with “What if…”

    “What if she had a point?”

    “What if I wasn’t being honest with myself?”

    “What if I wasn’t taking responsibility for something?”

    This provided a new lens through which to see the situation. With my strong emotions now expressed it was like a fog had been lifted, and I could see the situation from a new vantage point. This new perspective allowed me to completely shift my thinking on what had happened and relinquish my grip on the version of events I had concocted to help deal with my partner’s “hard” response.

    5. Take responsibility.

    From that simple question I realized that there was plenty I could take responsibility for, that I was ignoring based on my initial triggered response. I was shocked because once I found one thing, I found another, and another. By the end, I could take responsibility for almost all of what happened.

    It would have been easier to take responsibility for either nothing (be stubborn) or everything (be a people-pleaser). But the more honest I was with myself, the more I could distinguish between what was mine and what was not.

    For example, we had made a clear agreement about what time I would get back. I knew the food was going to be late, so I could have explained to my friends and left without eating. I knew I didn’t have a watch, so I could have checked on the time from somewhere else.

    Previously I’d been telling myself the story that I needed in order to ensure I wasn’t in the wrong and to protect the scared little boy inside myself that was upset at being made to feel bad.

    This also helped me to realize what I was not prepared to take responsibility for. I was being accused of some things that weren’t right. In fights we easily turn critiques about our actions into criticisms of our character. So, for example, in this scenario I was late home because I didn’t prioritize my partner. This is a critique (and is true); however, a criticism would be that this action makes me a selfish person (not true).

    Taking ownership for what was mine helped me release responsibility for what was not. This helped me to feel much stronger and clearer in owning my part in the situation and how I communicated it to my partner, as a result.

    6. Respect your partner’s process.

    When I arrived home I was excited to share what I’d learned with my partner and imagined us having a great conversation about it. That didn’t happen because she was still really annoyed with me. I came through the door with this great insight and awareness about the argument and how and why I’d behaved as I had. However, I was met with stonewalling.

    I’d used the journey home to vent and express my feelings, so the emotions in me had subsided. However, my partner had been sat at home the whole time stewing and making matters bigger and badder in her head, so we were in very different places. She still needed to express those emotions and get them out of her system before she was able to communicate with me in a productive way, and I needed to create space for her to do that.

    That was really tough because I realized I was in one place (emotionally and physically expressed, and now ready to take responsibility for what was mine), whereas she was somewhere else (still emotional and not ready for a rational conversation).

    7. Create the “container.”

    Fights often get out of control when you are both full of emotion and expressing it from a place of fear. The most important thing missing in most fights is a safe space within which to share and be heard

    When my partner and I fight we often fight for space to be heard as much as we argue about whatever the fight appeared to be about. Most fights are secret battles for power in the relationship and not really about whatever started them.

    To fight well requires one of you to have enough presence, away from your emotions, to create a safe space (or the “container”) within which to have the conversation.

    Once my partner’s emotions had calmed I asked if she was okay to have a conversation about what had happened because I wanted to share with her some things I wanted to take responsibility for. She agreed, and we were then able to have that conversation where I took responsibility for what was mine and we discussed what was not for me to take.

    I found that leading and taking responsibility for what was mine made her more trusting in me, which added to the safety we’d developed in creating the “container.” This made her much more understanding and able to take responsibility for what was hers.

    It really helped me when she said the simple words “I was wrong to say you were selfish.” I felt validated, which helped further develop the trust we had for each other.

    She would never have been able to admit that if we’d not created the sufficient safety for us both to be honest with each other.

    —

    This certainly wasn’t an easy conversation, but it would never have been possible if we hadn’t taken steps to create some space to express our emotions, take responsibility for what was ours, and then create a safe environment within which to discuss it.

    I learned that it’s not what we fight about but how we fight that’s most important.

  • When Family Members Push Our Buttons: How This Helps Us Grow

    When Family Members Push Our Buttons: How This Helps Us Grow

    Humanoids Argue

    “If we learn to open our hearts, anyone, including the people who drive us crazy, can be our teacher.” ~Pema Chodron

    You love them most of the time. You can’t stand them some of the time. But in the end, family is family.

    I’ve never liked to admit it, but I am just like my dad. Close in birthday, same number 5 life path in numerology, both risk takers, very passionate and adventurous, fun-loving, and witty, and we lead by example. That’s positively speaking.

    However, it becomes a negative pattern to focus on the other side of the coin. We both have the ability to become angry, withdrawn, and addicted to drama, and we both try to please everyone then resent others for their own imbalance.

    Do you think it’s any surprise the family you were born into?

    I used to blame my snappy behavior on my dad, whether at work, with girlfriends, or in social environments. “It’s my conditioning,” was my excuse I told myself. That’s exactly what it is from my perspective—an excuse.

    On closer self-reflection, I found myself getting angrier and angrier that I was like my dad and becoming more like him.

    Even though he’s a great guy, whenever I had a frustrating moment or lost my temper, I would blame him. No accountability or responsibility for my beliefs and actions, or the decisions I had made that led me to my current state.

    What this did was further fuel my anger because I began to resent myself too.

    I didn’t love myself as a “whole,” warts and all. I only wanted to see the positive stuff, but that became harder to do when I didn’t acknowledge, understand, and process my shadow as a part of who I am. This neglect strangely disabled my ability to enjoy the more positive aspects of my nature.

    From my perspective, my dad was waking me up to own my anger and helping me see how it was also of benefit and service to me.

    This moment came to a head at a FedEx Office when an employee made a remark to me that made me feel stupid. Well, that’s how I interpreted it at the time anyway. I hadn’t read the signs on how to use the self-service computers, and the employee reminded me in a condescending tone to read the signs over to my left.

    That was enough for me to lose it. “What the hell did you just say to me?” I snapped.

    I went from zero to a thousand in an instant and kept shouting like a crazy person. I could feel my head boil. It was then that a friend called on my cell. I stepped away, while the employee looked stunned and embarrassed by my behavior, while the women in line clutched their pearls so to speak.

    I picked up the call and subconsciously said, “Don’t mind me, just having a moment here at Fed Ex. Snapped like my Dad.”

    There went the finger of blame. Once again, I refused to accept that I could behave that way. My easy-going nature was where I liked to focus my awareness.

    The idea that I could sting with my words in a heartbeat, I chose to neglect. It reminded me too much of my dad and how I didn’t like it when he cut me off from a sentence or adamantly refused to see things from my perspective. It was his fault that this was becoming an all too familiar occurrence was my excuse.

    Thankfully, my friend on the phone is also a mentor, so he reminded me it was time to take a closer look.

    “If your dad is the constant focus of your anger, what is he trying to wake you up to? Can you see he is subconsciously summoning you to investigate a part of yourself that desperately needs attention?” he asked.

    It’s hard looking at yourself in the mirror when you may see an aspect of yourself you deny. But in order for me to understand my anger, I needed to become familiar with it and take responsibility.

    By owning the positive side of my angry outbursts, I could stop judging myself and release blame directed at my dad.

    Sound a little weird? Stay with me.

    At home with a pen and paper, I wrote down every benefit I could think of, which told me how being angry was also of service to me. Some benefits included:

    • Anger helps me take action; the fire within motivates me to go after what I really want. It helps me create tunnel vision and to block out anything or anyone that I see as a distraction to my goals.
    • It adds to the emotion and depth of my writing, which can only add to its authenticity.
    • It gives me an opportunity to practice accepting my shadow side. I don’t need to fight my anger; I just need to understand it and become more mindful of how I use it. This becomes a practice of accepting myself as I am.

    By the time I had finished this exercise, which quickly became a page and a half, I felt a huge weight had lifted. The more self-aware I became, the less my anger bubbled to the surface.

    I believe that was because I let myself off the hook. I forgave myself for being angry and forgave my dad for how he was. That in of itself was a huge weight to lift off my chest. Understanding it made me calmer and accentuated my ability to enjoy the more “positive” aspects of my nature.

    This is, I believe, what my dad was waking me up to. I’ll say it again:

    Do you think it’s any surprise the family you were born into? Think about it. Considering the amount of time we spend with our families growing up, it comes as no surprise that certain family members seriously push our buttons.

    Why do they push our buttons? To help us discover what we’re meant to work through in this lifetime. Simply put, to help us grow. They are our teachers to help us wake up to parts of ourselves that need attention, understanding, and in some cases healing.

    When rubbed the wrong way, the idea is to be able to take a closer look at ourselves and grow. What are these button pushers trying to teach us? Why do we react the way we do? What pain point are they touching? Are we willing to admit this and address it? Are we willing to not take it all so personally?

    I believe that there are no accidents. I believe that our birth into our individual families is not random. Even if you don’t share this belief, you can still choose to see your challenging relationships as opportunities for growth, thereby empowering yourself instead of victimizing yourself.

    The invitation to grow can help us be more empathetic, compassionate, loving, self-aware, trusting, authentic, confident, and less self-absorbed, jealous, envious, uncooperative, angry, and impatient.

    You might be thinking, “Well, my brother bullies me,” or “My mother was abusive.” Sure, they might have been and probably were. But what do we know about hurt people? They hurt others.

    Put yourself in his or her shoes. Imagine how much he is hurting or what dis-ease she has in her body? You have no idea what it is like to walk in their shoes. And look, it doesn’t give them a “get out of jail free card,” but it does give you an opportunity to become stronger and more self-aware, and to tap into a deeper understanding of your authenticity.

    Maybe the bully of the family is summoning you to stand up for yourself, believe in yourself. Maybe your mother is calling for you to treat yourself with more kindness, so you can then teach others how to be kind.

    I could go into a billion examples in family relationships, but the point I’m making is that your family is designed to help you grow. The task at hand is to wake up and pay attention to what each one of them has to teach you.

  • How to Confront Someone When You’re Afraid of Conflict

    How to Confront Someone When You’re Afraid of Conflict

    “Peace is not the absence of conflict, but the presence of creative alternatives for responding to conflict.” ~Dorothy Thompson

    I used to think that in order to live a completely peaceful existence, there could never be any conflict in my life, so I would do anything possible to avoid it.

    That included selling myself short, never sticking up for myself, and effectively compromising my value. That didn’t seem like the road to peace.

    The odd time I did say something, it still felt like a losing situation because I never felt I actually gained anything.

    Conflict scared me. It made me feel like I was a bad person or not spiritually evolved enough.

    About ten years ago, it became apparent that I simply couldn’t maintain a functional relationship with my in-laws, and I was devastated. The relationship became only about conflict, and it was simply too much for me.

    After saying goodbye to that dream of being part of one big happy family, I felt traumatized and fearful whenever I was faced with any sort of conflict.

    Despite always trying to do the right thing, I have had a falling out with a family member, an argument with a good friend, and a teeny, tiny disagreement with a colleague that became a much bigger drama than it should have.

    Each time I tried to learn from the previous situation and handle things differently; each time it didn’t work out for me. I was left wondering, what’s the best way to handle conflict?

    When someone does something to upset you, do you say how you feel? Do you ignore it and let it blow over? Is there another option?

    First, I decided to question my belief about conflict. Do I have to view conflict as a negative thing?

    It’s impossible to be perfectly aligned with everyone in our life so that no conflict ever arises. Expecting that is just going to result in disappointment, or, as in my case, feeling like I was lacking in some way when I couldn’t achieve that.

    Sometimes it doesn’t seem right to ignore things either.

    When someone is out of line, do we have a duty to make them aware of their impact on others? When someone is being unkind to you, isn’t it showing yourself kindness to put a stop to it? Is potential conflict your opportunity for growth?

    If you have a relationship in which you know that sharing your feelings is safe and the other person will respond positively, then you likely don’t even have to contemplate what you should do.

    It becomes difficult when you feel unsafe, so you start debating whether to ignore things or tell someone you’re hurt or angry.

    If we ignore it, we run the risk of the relationship with that person revolving around how we’re upset with them. We then look for any wrongdoings as evidence; that makes that story true and justified. Things can snowball, and then we can misinterpret everything they do or say in order to support what we believe.

    Telling people how we feel sometimes isn’t a good idea either. (Again, I should point out that I am talking about situations where conflict has the potential to increase—maybe with difficult family members, certain acquaintances, or challenging friends).

    If we tell people how we feel, there is an expectation for them to accept or at least acknowledge that we feel that way. That might not happen. The other person might not be capable of that, and things then escalate.

    Instead, they might go straight to defending themselves. Chances are, the other person did not intend to hurt you, and telling them will make them feel bad, intensifying the situation. This is not the foundation in which to resolve conflict.

    Fact and truth are different. Facts aren’t disputable. Truth is.

    There is your truth, and then there is what is true for the other person. Both truths are based on perception, which can be completely different.

    That doesn’t mean that one is right and the other is wrong. It means that truth can be different for everyone, because it’s influenced by one’s experiences, wisdom, and thoughts.

    We expect to feel better by telling someone how we feel and then can blame the other person if that doesn’t happen, making things worse.

    So, is there another option? Yes, yes there is. Instead, tell them what you need.

    Defining what you need requires a bit of self-reflection, and that allows you to work through what is your ‘stuff.’

    If you are angry with the other person and actually can’t whittle it down to being able to ask for something you need from them, then perhaps it is an internal conflict that the other person triggered, and you actually don’t need to involve them.

    Focusing on what you need removes “should” and “should not” from your internal dialogue –”they shouldn’t be so insensitive” or “they should be more respectful.” It isn’t true that they should or shouldn’t be a certain way; that’s just something you want.

    After determining how their behavior is affecting you, you can then discover what you need or would like to change.

    The intention of simply asking for what you need is not to elaborate, but if the other person seeks to understand the situation further, then they might ask questions that lead you to sharing your feelings.

    This becomes more of a conversation rather than a confrontation, because the person knows up front what is expected from them and they invited you to share your feelings; therefore, the dynamic in the discussion is different.

    Sometimes asking for what you need results in creating boundaries, which are useful and essential in life. (But remember that enforcing boundaries creates separation, which is kind of the point. But if you don’t seek to show your affection within those boundaries, the other person may just feel rejected.)

    There is no perfect approach to conflict; there is no surefire way that ensures both parties go through the process without being hurt or upset. And I certainly don’t think that we should never tell people how we feel.

    What I am suggesting is that sometimes, in some situations with certain people, it doesn’t help to voice our feelings (and it never accomplishes anything), so taking this approach to only ask for what you need might be more useful.

    Unfortunately for me, some of my conflict has resulted in me taking a major step back from certain people, which raises another important question: How do you know when enough is enough? What if there is continual conflict, or you don’t receive what you need?

    If grieving that relationship is a less painful option than having that person remain in your life, then that is something for you to consider, especially if it affects your self-worth.

    If I had asked my in-laws for what I needed, might things have turned out differently? Maybe.

    If I knew what they needed might it have changed things? Probably.

    If it didn’t conflict with my boundaries, then I would have accommodated their needs any way I could, had I known what they were.

    I know that things would have been very different with my family member if I had just said, “I need your support; I want us to be closer because you matter to me” instead of just feeling rejected, dismissed, and criticized.

    Or, if I had just said to my friend who would always cancel our plans at the last minute, “Can we only make arrangements if you are sure you won’t have to cancel, because I really want to see you.”

    Or, to my colleague, who I thought was being insensitive when a conflict of interest had arisen, “Maybe we should avoid talking about this topic until there is no conflict of interest, but I really enjoy talking to you, so let’s just focus on other things.”

    Asking for what you need, instead of focusing on the other person’s negative behavior and your feelings, is going to make it easier for them to respond to you, especially if you follow your request up with a positive statement.

    So, next time you are debating whether to ignore something or say when you have been upset, try asking yourself, “What do I need?”

  • Why Silence Is Often the Best Response to a Verbal Attack

    Why Silence Is Often the Best Response to a Verbal Attack

    “Have the maturity to sometimes know that silence is more powerful than having the last word.” ~Thema Davis

    It all started with the forks.

    “You need to return my forks,” my roommate demanded one morning as I sat in the kitchen attempting to get some work done.

    “I have already said that I don’t have them. We told you that the other roommate has been hiding them,” I replied.

    She began raising her voice at me, “I can’t believe you would accuse her. You’re just a mean, nasty person!”

    I slowly turned around and said calmly, “Today is my birthday, actually. So I don’t really want to have this conversation right now.”

    She retorted, “I don’t care,” and then began to attack my character with a spiel of all the various other things I’ve ever done to upset her.

    Perhaps she felt some kind of underlying hurt, but she would not share this with me. She was not telling me these problems so that we could work on them together to fix the hurt. Instead, she was insulting and attacking my very existence as a human so that I could feel hurt with her.

    I could already foresee that nothing I could say was going to calm her down, so I chose to respond with silence. I suppose my silence pushed her over the edge, because she ended the conversation with “good luck with your miserable life treating people this way!” and stormed out of the room.

    Well, that escalated quickly. All because of some missing forks. I continued on with my birthday as happily as I could.

    Over the next few weeks, I waited for my roommate to come to me in a calm manner to resolve her issues with me, but she never did. Any chance she had, she continued to speak to me in a hateful manner, even though I didn’t engage her.

    For some reason, my respectful silence made her angrier with me. I had held my tongue and kept my negative thoughts to myself, yet she still found a reason to hold on to her anger. This made it seem to me that she did not respect me or wish to resolve our issues.

    One day she shoved me while coming in the front door at the same time as me. She went so far as to spread rumors that I was planning to break up with my boyfriend so that he would break up with me first. I remained silent and still as a tree.

    Looking at things from her point of view, it seems that she was trapped in pain. A pain so severe she wanted someone else to feel it with her. She did not know another way to express her pain to me, so I will never know the true cause of it.

    Luckily for me, she moved out shortly afterward. Though our relationship ended and our issues remained unsolved because of her lack of cooperation, I do not regret my silence for several reasons.

    Silence shows that external factors cannot affect your self-esteem. 

    If you have hurt them, it is okay to acknowledge this and apologize. You are a human who makes mistakes. If they are unfoundedly attacking you, remember that they are speaking from a place of hurt that clouds their judgment.

    In either situation, remind yourself that their negative view of you does not change your self-esteem and value as a person.

    Oftentimes, flinging an insult is a reflection of their hidden insecurities and fears. True maturity comes from letting the hurtful words roll off your back without feeling the need to defend yourself, knowing that they are not a reflection of you.

    Silence is not weakness.

    Silence is harnessing your calm in a heated moment. Silence is a moment of Zen in which you can see the positive and negative coexisting together. Silence is the power to mindfully choose to stay out of the negative space, and not to say hurtful words back.

    It takes true strength to hold your tongue and not succumb to negative energy. With time and practice, it will become easier and easier to ignore negative comments and continue on happily with your day.

    Silence is not ignoring the problem.

    Silence is the way to avoid saying things during a moment’s anger that you may later regret. Of course if the person has cooled off later on and wishes to speak to you calmly and respectfully regarding the matter, you should have a dialogue with them. Rational conversations are the only way to effective conflict resolution.

    Silence is always in your toolbox. 

    When someone has an interpersonal problem that they genuinely wish to fix, they approach the other person from a place within their heart, a place of actual caring and love. If someone immediately attacks your integrity and character, they are not speaking out of love but out of hate. Hatred cannot solve problems, only love can.

    When the other person is being intentionally hurtful, without regard for your feelings, you always have the choice to stay silent and walk away from the conversation. There is a point where no words will calm them down, and they simply want you to join in their anger. Reciprocating their anger and adding fuel to their fire will just make things worse.

    Silence is always there for a moment of clarity.

  • How to Mend a Broken Friendship (Even if You’re Not on Speaking Terms)

    How to Mend a Broken Friendship (Even if You’re Not on Speaking Terms)

    Two Friends

    “If you judge people, you have no time to love them.” ~Mother Teresa

    I kept thinking about how many years had passed by. Did I really waste four years by not contacting my best friend?

    You see, I had a falling out with my close cousin. Growing up together since childhood, we became best friends—more like brothers through the years.

    That was until we had a huge disagreement. We didn’t speak for what seemed like forever.

    Admittedly, I was the one to blame. Though at that time, I didn’t see it that way.

    When someone means a lot to you and then disappears, it leaves this huge void in your life—and possibly all because you couldn’t admit any wrongdoing. It’s something you can’t sweep under the rug so easily.

    During that time, I wondered what he was up to. Should I try to contact him? It had been so long, I didn’t know if I should even try any longer.

    Sometimes we take a sole stand, even if it’s against close friends. Maybe we won’t budge because we know we’re right (or refuse to admit we’re wrong). And if we can’t make sense of it all, maybe we wonder if we should let it be.

    After four long years, our paths crossed once again. I heard he wanted to get in touch with me. I felt the same and was eager to finally meet up and talk in person.

    It just so happened he also wondered how I was and what I was up to. After our talk, it’s like we never lost a beat. We took some time to bring ourselves up to speed, but we ultimately fixed our friendship.

    Reflecting on my experiences taught me some valuable lessons about how to fix friendships. These may work for you too, if you apply them wholeheartedly:

    1. Let the dust settle first.

    If the argument was recent, allow some time for the psychological wounds to heal. If you do anything now, you may cause more harm than good.

    Tempers flared, and hurtful things were said. Let both of you gain your senses first and reflect on what happened.

    If you get back into the mix too soon before you’ve both had a chance to cool off, you risk experiencing a repeat episode of the same argument.

    Time is your ally, so wait a while.

    2. Purge your frustrations.

    Frustrations can and will arise from time to time, so you’ll need an outlet to release stress and keep them from accumulating. Otherwise, they may undermine your good intentions.

    Sometimes you’ll feel the need to vent and validate your hurt feelings, and that’s okay. It’s not healthy to hold your feelings in and pretend you’re okay, so vent away.

    But at the same time, don’t badmouth your friend to anyone who’ll listen. Instead. Limit your diatribe to just one person you can confide in and trust.

    It’s actually about working through your feelings. Talking out loud about your frustrations not only can make you feel better but can also give you more focus and perspective in the rebuilding process.

    3. Give your ego a break.

    An ego may have good and bad parts, but one thing’s for certain:

    The ego is a projection of how we want people to see us. Sometimes, we go out of our way to protect this projection, but this costs us, because we often don’t allow ourselves to be vulnerable.

    When attempting reconciliation, both your egos are just additional obstacles both of you have to bore through to make meaningful communication between your pure selves.

    Remove any defensiveness you’re harboring and open your heart, exposing your vulnerability.

    Face your fear of unpredictability even if you don’t know if your friend will accept or reject you.

    Keep in mind that your friend needs to vent as well; you must mentally prepare yourself to listen to whatever opinions are thrown your way.

    Lastly, be mindful not to criticize, judge, or complain. These will definitely close the doors to communication. Be sure to keep an open mind.

    Your goal, by withdrawing your ego, is to get your friend to withdraw their ego as well and open up, thus removing barriers in order to reconnect.

    4. Don’t be afraid to reach out first.

    Get over that initial hump. It’s not as difficult as it appears.

    Want to email them? Don’t be afraid to push that send button. That button won’t bite you back.

    Afraid they won’t reply to you? You haven’t spoken to them for a while anyway, so what’s to fear?

    Be fearless, take the leap, and go for it. Go ahead and find a way to contact them. Believe me, you’ve got absolutely nothing to lose, because your current situation can’t get any worse.

    5. End the blame game once and for all.

    Still figuring out who’s to blame? That means you’re still dwelling in the past.

    Blaming something on anyone brings back up your fighting stance. Definitely counterproductive in fixing any relationship.

    Accept the situation for what it is even if it doesn’t make any sense at the moment.

    No one’s perfect in this world, and the last thing you want to do is stir the proverbial pot when trying to fix your friendship.

    Find a way to climb on top of that and gain the advantage of seeing over your obstacles.

    6. Visualize forgiveness before you utter a single word.

    Whatever wrongdoings your friend has committed against you, picture yourself forgiving them, and envision those misdeeds dissolving into nothingness. Let this mindset envelope your soul right before you speak.

    It’s like a golfer visualizing the ball moving through the green into the hole. He has his predetermined path planned in his head leading to his goal. All this visualization before he’s even putted the ball.

    By foreseeing your goal, you’ve already set the right tone from the get-go.

    Whatever the outcome, good or bad, you want your friend to know your intentions originated from peace, not hate.

    7. Apologize for your part in what happened.

    Saying sorry not only eases their pain but also shows that you’re giving a peace offering to the other side.

    Even if you don’t feel you’re at fault, please know you still had some part to play in the fight.

    Say sorry for anything incidental. For example, you took so long to contact them, or you weren’t able to hear their side of it.

    8. Avoid asking “Why?”

    Why is a tiny three-letter word that can cause more damage than good. When asking “Why?” you’re pretty much pinning them in a corner and making them feel trapped.

    It’s like saying, “Explain yourself; you’re guilty!” They’ll get defensive, shut down, or stay silent.

    You can change the question around so that it shows you care rather than appear demanding. Instead of asking, “Why did you act like that?” say, “Did I do anything that made you feel like you had to defend yourself?”

    Asking it this way seems less confrontational and more inquisitive.

    9. Avoid trying to force reciprocity.

    If they’re the perpetrator, don’t feel entitled to an apology, and don’t fish for feedback.

    Expecting something brings your ego back into play. It may cause unnecessary tension and create false expectations that can hinder any improvement.

    Also, it’s possible they may never come around and may never be sorry at all. This is about unconditional love by giving only from your point of view, so it’s best to not expect anything in return.

    If they truly wish to make it work, they’ll come around to explain their reasoning and let you know they’re sorry.

    Doing it this way allows them to learn and grow themselves.

    10. Be prepared to move on.

    This is all about creating peace. However, if after all that you’ve done it does not come to fruition, don’t despair. Know in your heart that you’ve taken the initiative and freed yourself from guilt.

    Why? Because you did everything you could possibly do. Now the ball is in their court.

    Don’t burn any bridges and keep that door open to friendship, but use your best judgment. If you’re treated horribly or abused, after all of your best intentions, then it would be in your best interests to close that door.

    Make That Friendship Even Stronger Than Before

    The positive thing coming out of breaking and fixing a friendship is that both of you know each of your boundaries once you have crossed them.

    It’s like playing with fire and getting burned.

    You now know what not to cross, but at the same time, you’ll have a closer connection from having experienced it. A deeper understanding you couldn’t get any other way.

    Your fixed relationship is sort of like an irreplaceable, cracked heirloom vase carefully glued back together. It may not look the same as it did before, but you can still value it for what it is and fully embrace it for what it represents.

    One thing that I know for sure: if you value this friendship, the time you lose with them can never, ever be replaced. Life is short, and the clock is ticking.

    Get the ball rolling. Make a conscious choice now. Remember, you have nothing to lose and only a friend to gain.

    Friends image via Shutterstock

  • Dealing with Anger Storms Without Causing Destruction

    Dealing with Anger Storms Without Causing Destruction

    Angry Thundercloud

    “Anger is like a storm rising up from the bottom of your consciousness. When you feel it coming, turn your focus to your breath.” ~Thich Nhat Hanh

    There is an elderly lady—I’ll call her Ms. A—living in my mum’s village. She regularly shouts at people as they pass by her house walking their dogs.

    She can be quite intimidating really. She even followed my mother up the road on one occasion, much to Mum’s alarm. My mum, unlike me, now avoids walking past her house, even though it’s a good route for her to take when walking her dog.

    Ms. A has also shouted at me and called me names on a number of occasions. The thing is, I know Ms. A has mental health issues, and I have remarked to my mum how much she must be suffering, poor lady, and needs our understanding rather than our condemnation.

    But on this particular day, all my good thoughts and intentions went right out the window.

    I’m embarrassed to say that when she came over to shout at me, instead of walking by like I usually do, I went right up to her and shouted angrily back.

    I became the intimidator then, telling her, in no uncertain terms, that she really must leave my mum alone and also stop shouting at me and calling me rude names when I walk by on the public road. I said I would report her for harassment if she didn’t stop.

    She shouted back at me, of course. She also looked rather alarmed.

    After I finished my rant, I resumed my walk, shaking. I felt absolutely rotten—guilty, ashamed, sad, and embarrassed. I was horrified at my reaction.

    It was an uncomfortable walk home to my mum’s that day. I knew I hadn’t helped the situation at all. So much for my understanding and compassion!

    So what went wrong? When I looked within, I realized I’d approached the house thinking a number of unhelpful thoughts due to my desire to protect my mum and my perception of being wronged. Some of my thoughts included:

    How dare this woman intimidate my mum?! I really should put her in her place and stop her from doing it again. And how dare she say those rude things to me?!

    It’s a public road; I’m doing nothing wrong by walking here. She’s the one in the wrong, not me, so I have the moral high ground! Yes, I’ll sort this situation out once and for all—I’ll tell her!

    All these stormy thoughts were racing around my head as I neared her house. Looking back, I also realize how much I always dreaded walking by there. I didn’t like getting shouted at, but I didn’t want to change my route either, as that seemed unfair.

    All this was a heady mix of thoughts and emotions, and more than enough to initiate a storm.

    By the time I reached her house, where she was standing, seemingly waiting for me, the storm hit, and I was lost to it.

    It certainly wasn’t my finest hour, but I learned a lot about myself in the subsequent analysis of the whole sorry incident.

    I realized that my reaction had come from a place of darkness, a place where my own distress lurked, and that shining a light on it would help to illuminate a much better way to respond in the future.

    I also realized that it had been a premeditated outburst, in the sense that my thoughts had helped whip it up. I saw too that I had gotten it all wrong: my thinking and perceptions were faulty. Ms. A was limited in her ability to control herself, due to her mental illness, and she really wasn’t a threat to either my mum or to me.

    I could also see and understand why this storm had arisen and what was at the root of it. This led to me feel more compassion for myself, which in turn helped me to face, and also own up to, my angry outburst.

    I once wrote about a tree I had walked by in the forest. It was crowded by other trees, and it had curved its way around them to reach up to the available sky. I realized that this curved tree hadn’t gotten caught up in how unfair the situation was; it had just gotten on with things and found the light it needed.

    This nature lesson advises us to ‘curve around’ more when a situation calls for it.

    By this I mean refusing to get caught up in a “that’s not fair!” mentality or get worked up over things that are of little consequence in the big scheme of things. This isn’t a helpful way to live our lives: it causes a lot of unnecessary stress.

    I’m not saying that we should just roll over or back down all the time; rather that it would be much better for us to not rush into situations without thinking things through carefully and dispassionately beforehand. I’m all for being (calmly) assertive when it’s required.

    It’s about looking at the bigger picture and taking a more balanced and less inflexible approach to life.

    Thinking about Mother Nature and anger storms, another lesson occurs to me: nature doesn’t take revenge.

    Even though we can sometimes think that nature must be angry with us and is hitting back at us with devastating storms, floods, and hurricanes, in reality it is just in the process of bringing balance back to the planet.

    Please note, I am not denying the immense human and animal suffering such events cause. My point is that nature bears no dark ulterior motive—it isn’t taking its revenge on us.

    Nature doesn’t think to itself that we need bringing down a peg or two; that we are getting out of hand and need to be punished. It isn’t reacting from a place of aggression. It just does what it needs to do to survive the best way it can. These storms are not sent as a personal attack on us.

    And that’s the problem with our own angry reactions; they often come about because we take things so personally.

    We can feel that we are personally under attack in some way and then go on the attack ourselves. Tit for tat. Not a good idea, as things escalate—they always do!

    If we can learn to step back and realize that someone’s anger has everything to do with their own suffering, rather than with us, we may be able to take things less personally and not feel the need for revenge.

    We may (or may not) need to take some action, but if we do, we can do it from a place of non-aggression, like Mother Nature. We can also do it from a place of clarity and calm. For this, we need to stop, focus on our breath, and let the storm clouds pass.

    I learned a lot about myself that day, stuff I didn’t really want to own up to. But I did, and I’m grateful for the lessons.

    Next time I will be more mindful of my thoughts and not let them whip up an unnecessary storm. And if storm clouds start to rise up, I’ll focus on my breath and walk on by. I’ll look at what’s happening inside me and remember, too, to take on board the other person’s distress.

    I’ll also take a leaf out of nature’s book on responding to stressful situations: I’ll curve around when I think it’s the best approach and try not take things so personally.

    Angry thundercloud image via Shutterstock

  • 5 Simple Ways to Quickly Resolve Conflict with Your Partner

    5 Simple Ways to Quickly Resolve Conflict with Your Partner

    “Don’t make a permanent decision for your temporary emotion.” ~Unknown

    You have a small disagreement with your partner, and before you know it, it escalates into a big fight. Sound familiar?

    You then get dreadfully grumpy. You stick your head in the ground like an ostrich and ignore your partner. You think that you have the right to be grumpy or even angry.

    You’re in “war” mode now, and you want to win the battle. You dig a trench, jump into it, and arm yourself with weapons.

    You barely listen to a word your partner says, and all you want is for him or her to say, “I’m so sorry, you’re right.”

    Perhaps this is something that you can relate to. Maybe you find yourself responding in this way at times. But I have to admit, this particular example is referring to myself.

    This was me on a lot of occasions when confronted by a small disagreement with my partner, and something that I still struggle with today.

    It became a bit of a habit. I would get offended quickly, and I’d turn what could have been something that was easily resolved into a big war.

    Why?

    Well, here goes… because I was proud. I didn’t want to admit that I was wrong.

    I have come to realize that not only was my response incredibly damaging for my relationship, it was not very loving or caring.

    It the heat of an argument, it’s easy to forget that and we let our pride get the best of us.

    Every time you give into your pride and start a war, you make a little crack in your relationship. It may not seem to have a big impact at first, but slowly, the crack will get bigger.

    You can compare it to a crack in the window of your car. If you don’t fix it, the crack will become bigger and bigger until it is so big, it can’t be repaired anymore.

    So, is it really worth it? For me, it’s an easy no. Holding onto my pride is not worth putting a crack in my relationship.

    More than anything, I want my relationship to be successful, fulfilling, and full of love.

    5 Ways to Quickly Resolve Conflict with Your Partner

    We all know that it’s not easy to turn off the “pride switch” when we are in the heat of an argument. We don’t want to give in.

    The key is to find tools and strategies to help you respond better when in the heat of the moment. Here are some simple but effective tools to help you have productive conflict, rather than destructive conflict.

    1. Stop in your tracks and choose your response.

    When you are just on the verge of having an argument, you need to make a decision. You need to decide: Am I going to choose to respond positively and productively, or am I going to let myself get angry and annoyed?

    Often, we get angry without even thinking about it. It’s our natural response when confronted with conflict. But once our body jumps into that fight or flight mode, it’s very difficult to turn back.

    The key is to get in the habit of asking yourself quickly, before you get angry: How am I going to choose to respond at this moment? Just challenging yourself quickly might be enough to push you in the other direction.

    2. Ask yourself these questions before you get angry.

    • When I wake up in the morning, will I agree with the way I responded?
    • Will I regret my response?
    • Would I want my partner to respond in the same way?

    These are all questions that can help you to make the choice to respond productively, rather than giving into your pride or anger.

    3. Acknowledge the other person’s feelings.

    A lot of the time when we have arguments, they seem to just go around in circles. 

    “Yes but, no but, yes but, okay but” are words that you tend to hear a lot!

    Acknowledging the other person rather than saying “but” after their every sentence will virtually guarantee that the conversion will make progress. This will also mean that you won’t go around in circles, and, therefore, get more frustrated and angry as the minutes and even hours go by.

    Acknowledging sounds pretty simple, but how do you actually do it?

    It’s more complicated than you think, because overtime we have programmed ourselves to defend ourselves, and not acknowledge the other person during an argument.

    Here’s an important truth to help you break away from that habit: Acknowledging the other person’s feelings does not mean that you agree with what they have done. It does not mean that you are giving in either.

    It simply involves saying something like “I can understand how you have come to feel that way,” not “You are right for feeling that way, and I am wrong.” 

    If you can learn the skill of acknowledgment, you will be amazed at how much less often a small disagreement will turn into a war.

    4. Avoid using rhetorical questions to get what you want.

    It will only aggravate the situation to ask rhetorical questions, such as “Why do you always do that?” or “Why can’t you just be more loving?” or “Why do you only ever think about yourself?”

    It’s not productive at all because it attacks the other person. Rather, you should be specific with what you want. For example, instead of saying,“Why do you always do that?” you could say, “I really don’t like it when you shout at me; can you please stop shouting?”

    Learning to have productive conflict is so important for a happy and successful relationship.

    5. Say sorry.

    Just do it!

    Chances are, during an argument, you are going to say or do things you shouldn’t have. Maybe you got angry, maybe you raised your voice, or maybe you said something nasty.

    The point is, no one is perfect.

    Apologizing for your part does not mean that you agree with the other person’s behavior; however, someone has got to say it first, right?

    So, maybe you can choose to be the person who just sucks it up and apologizes.

    Why? Because you would rather get over the conflict sooner, and enjoy your relationship with your partner.

    In my relationship, I have learned that apologizing more freely has led to significantly fewer arguments and very few fights.

    Rather than fighting with my partner, I can laugh with her, have fun with her, and enjoy her company. And we don’t have to worry that our day or night will be ruined by a silly little argument.

    —

    Pride is a powerful thing that can wrap itself around you and suck you in. Once you’ve crossed that line and have gotten angry, it’s difficult to go back. To help you turn that around and have productive conflict with your partner, be sure to use these tools.

    They have helped me significantly in choosing a better response when at the verge of an argument, and my relationship is much better off for it.

  • How to Avoid Drama: Stop Taking Things Personally and Needing to Be Right

    How to Avoid Drama: Stop Taking Things Personally and Needing to Be Right

    “Concern yourself not with what is right and what is wrong but with what is important.” ~Unknown

    I remember quite distinctly the point where my rational self, less invested in the discussion, took a step back and pointed out that I was descending down the path of needing to prove that I was right.

    It was precisely when I started seeing the other commenter as needling my position and attacking the ideas as mine.

    What started out as an appeal to respect cultures that celebrate death as a normal part of life, turned into a mud-slinging event the moment I ceased to educate and instead went down the road of righteous anger.

    Even if we were to keep our social network to the closest friends and family members, there will inevitably come the time when, as we scroll through our Facebook feed, we encounter something that we disagree with.

    If we are not careful about the way we react or respond to these kinds of things, drama will arise.

    And oh, such drama it was! Despite not participating any further once some ganging up occurred and outright insults were being flung, I came away from the debacle more furious with myself than anyone else.

    In hindsight, it really was hilarious the way it quickly descended into a playground squabble where the crux of the matter was “I’m right, you’re wrong!”

    But unlike childhood fights where it is rare that full-blown grudges develop (notice how children make up and play together easily?), the issues that adults tend to have petty fights over are a bit more complicated, simply because we are way more invested in it.

    It isn’t over a fire truck belonging to us that can be easily shared with another child. It is occasionally belief systems and ideologies that we think define us, and so we do not take too easily to them being challenged.

    I later received a long message from the other person that was essentially an attempt at civility after the earlier descent into childishness. But while the absence of trolling was a nice welcome, here too was another invitation to engage further in another bout of drama.

    Ignoring the comments about my character and only clarifying issues I felt were relevant to the earlier discussion, I refused to bite.

    What I’m slowly learning, and I am quite a slow learner when it comes to social interactions, is that personal affronts are key to the development of drama, and how we choose to respond to what the other person doles out will determine our state of being.

    This isn’t something solely confined to social media interactions, either; Facebook, Twitter, and other sites like them are all just platforms where our interactions take place. Unnecessary drama and squabbles did not appear after the Internet but are simply magnified by it.

    If you decide earlier on that personal attacks will not hurt you and that you will not yourself fling insults, you’ll be much more likely to have a discussion that’s conducive for education and sharing of ideas.

    These attacks often come out innocuously enough. An adept practitioner of shade can fling one at you with much subtlety, so control is necessary in ensuring that you are always on the right road.

    Unfortunately, I have yet to be gracious enough to not throw shade myself, and thus the initial eruption of drama stemmed from my lack of control. We cannot control will perceive or retaliate with, but we can choose how we respond to them.

    The moment we choose to take the issues personally, we cease to participate in civil discourse as we insist upon the particular details that we feel attack our characters.

    We feel the need to yell that we are right rather than strive to seek and communicate truth.

    With that said, I am certainly not excusing those who choose to create conflict rather than communicate peacefully. Once you see things heading down that awful road, it’s best to simply disengage and leave because nothing fruitful will come out of it.

    What matters at this point, I feel, is how you resolve your position, and it isn’t about how you appear to other people who may be watching (or reading the thread), but how you now feel about your beliefs and ideas.

    Are ad hominem attacks ever conducive to the truth? The moment we associate ego and pride with our various ideologies, we miss the mark. 

    In a world of multivariate opinions, beliefs, and philosophies, friction is bound to occur when these ideas inevitably collide.

    There are certain fields more volatile than others, like politics and religion, and they require careful treading. When in the thick of drama, especially with drama-hungry spectators egging us on, we lose the point and indulge, instead, in a battle of wits over who can yell the loudest in being right.

    To keep drama at bay, it is necessary to maintain that, while ideas form much of what we think we are, they are merely constructs that only help us make sense of life and do not essentially form who we are.

    If someone attacks what we believe, they’re not attacking us. They’re disagreeing with our opinion because they hold a different point of view. And if they choose to attack us personally, it’s likely not about us, but rather reflective of their fear-based attachment to their beliefs.

    It is perhaps worth bearing this in mind whenever we feel the urge to take something personally.

  • Letting Go of Stubbornness: Appreciate Your Loved Ones While You Can

    Letting Go of Stubbornness: Appreciate Your Loved Ones While You Can

    friends

    “Before someone’s tomorrow has been taken away, cherish those you love, appreciate them today. “ ~Michelle C. Ustaszeski

    My brother Greg and I were the closest of friends growing up, even if you weigh in the occasional tiff or disagreement we sometimes had.

    We discovered our favorite toys together as kids, rode bikes side by side, and conquered video games as a two-man team. Even well into our teenage years, we were an inseparable pair, always looking out for one another.

    The fact that our father died of a brain tumor when we were young had forged a deep understanding between us. I remember us crying together in our mother’s arms when we got the news, soaking her chest with tears. We both knew without saying a word that we’d need one another to lean on in the years to come.

    My Brother’s Keeper

    One day Greg and I were out in the woods in the wintertime with our grandfather and uncle when we happened upon a small river. A collapsed tree had fallen over it, which offered the only visible means of crossing. So with the adults behind me and my brother in front, we set about making it to the other side.

    Somewhere around the halfway point, Greg slipped and fell into the river. Instinctually, I yelled out, “Hang on, Greg! I’m coming!” and immediately dove in after him. Once in the river, I was able to lift him back toward the fallen tree, where Grandpa pulled him the rest of the way up, followed by me.

    The river might not have been deep enough to drown him, but it didn’t really matter to me. My brother was in trouble, and the last place I wanted to be was out of his reach. Jumping in with him put us both in the same predicament, fighting our way out together—the same as it was when our father died.

    And Greg more than returned the favor one day, when a kid from the neighborhood pulled a bow and arrow back at pointed it at me. Without even hesitating, Greg stood directly in front of me and said, “If you’re gonna kill my brother, you have to kill me first.” The kid slowly released the bow, dropped his arrow, and ran away.

    Two Of A Kind

    We were cut from the same cloth, my brother and I. Our love and courage for one another knew no limits or bounds. But like most brothers, we often found ourselves at odds over the most trivial of things.

    We argued about toys, had screaming matches over who would get to keep the prize from a cereal box, and even punched each other out once over a video game.

    Being cut from the same cloth could also mean a mutual stubbornness during disagreements. And though we always seemed to work things out, a day arrived when we would no longer have that luxury.

    Pain Is A Teacher

    Greg and I were going through another one of our tiffs in the fall of 1997 (we weren’t exactly burning mad at each other, but we hadn’t been speaking much, either), when I was awoken by a phone call from my grandmother one morning.

    She told me that my brother had been hit head-on by a drunk driver the night before…and was killed instantly. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.

    After I hung up the phone, I screamed and wailed for nearly two hours straight. I just couldn’t articulate my pain any other way. There was such a strong bond between me and Greg that I felt like half of my body had been cut in half.

    And on top of the pain of losing him, I was reminded of that one final argument we never got to resolve. It took me years before I stopped thinking about it and began to appreciate the valuable lesson life had taught me.

    An Open Challenge

    I’m a lot more cautious these days about leaving things unresolved with people I love, or with anyone else for that matter. Life is short. We’re all given a set amount of days in which to enjoy this life and appreciate one another—and none of us know just how much time we actually have left.

    Today is the time to work out our differences and disputes with the people we love, and to ask ourselves an important question: Is my stubbornness really worth it? Is it possible that I’ve been making a big deal out of something trivial—a position that I’d feel awful about if this person died tomorrow?

    I hear stories all the time from people who never got to tell a parent how much they loved them before they passed, and even siblings who never buried the ax before it was too late. Regret is one of the hardest things in the world to live with.

    Challenge yourself to resolve an issue with someone you’ve been feuding with for a long time, especially if it’s a family member or friend. Let them know they mean much more to you than your old stubborn position in a past argument.

    Photo by Fovea Centralis