Tiny Buddha

Tag: lonely

  • What to Do When You’re Having Trouble Making New Friends

    What to Do When You’re Having Trouble Making New Friends

    “The measure of intelligence is the ability to change.” ~Albert Einstein

    I’m sitting on the couch by myself watching Dexter reruns on Netflix. But I can hardly focus on the show. I’m freaking out because I still haven’t made any friends, even though I moved here over a month ago.

    I keep thinking to myself: “Will all my Saturdays look like this?” “Will I actually be able to make new friends and build that social circle I was so excited to have?”

    Let me rewind just a bit.

    It’s a hot and sunny summer day in Southern California.

    After hours of Tetris-like packing, my Toyota Corolla is packed to the brim with everything I consider important. My guitar amp has clothes stuffed in the back of it. Even my snowboard is upside down, forming to the shape of the roof.

    I should be exhausted from packing, but I’m not. I’m beaming. Smiling from ear to ear, I can’t wait to start a new chapter in my life.

    With a new promotion in hand, I am given the task of opening a new office in Santa Fe, New Mexico. I have never even been to New Mexico before, but I am ecstatic to meet new people and create new life experiences. So I hop in my car and make the fifteen-hour drive to begin my new adventure.

    I’ve arrived in New Mexico, and I am high on life in the high desert of Santa Fe.

    Life is great. I’m loving the delicious, authentic New Mexican food and the warm monsoons with crazy lightning. I’m spending my time getting to know the wonderful city of Santa Fe.

    More than a month goes by and, just as monsoon season is ending, I’m all settled in and enjoying my job. However, the excitement of making new friends and living the dream is starting to disappear. Actually, it’s starting to turn into fear.

    I’ve never felt so lonely in my life.

    Day after day, anxiety slowly grows deep inside my body. When will I start to make new friends? Will I ever even make any friends here?

    The fear of loneliness is eating me alive. Especially because I didn’t think that this would be a problem at all. But it’s making it hard for me to focus on anything but my inability to make friends.

    I know that if I want to meet new people and make friends that it is up to me. I need to take action and be proactive. The only problem is that I don’t really know how.

    But I try anyway.

    I muster up the motivation to go to a public pub crawl on a Saturday night and tell myself that I am going to turn things around and move toward my social goals. When I finally realize at the end of the night that I only spoke to one person the entire time, it only deepens the pain and stress.

    As bad as it seemed and felt, some good things were taking root even though I didn’t know it at the time. I had been on a self-help kick for quite some time and was constantly reading and doing what I could to improve my life.

    By some stroke of luck and beautiful timing, I got my hands on the book Yes Man by Danny Wallace. In it, recently single Danny was falling into isolation and loneliness until he decided to say yes to everything, and in the book he recounts the events that unfolded.

    In short, he met tons of new people, did a bunch of crazy things, and had one hell of an adventure.

    I read the entire book in one day—quite a feat for me. I may not have known it at the time, but this was a pivotal moment in my life. It fundamentally changed my beliefs and the way I look at life.

    I was missing opportunities left and right.

    My problem wasn’t an unwillingness to do new things; my problem was how picky I was being about the things I chose to do. I would turn down going to music in the Santa Fe Plaza because, “eh, that music doesn’t seem to interest me.” I would turn down an invite to hang out with someone because, “he didn’t seem that cool.”

    But then, after reading Yes Man and deciding that I need to be way more open to new experiences and new people, I decided to be much less picky.

    I hung out with a forty-year-old Texan I met through email and went to a strange and interesting event called Zozobra. I went to a college football game in Albuquerque (definitely not my wheelhouse) and to the Santa Fe Wine and Chile Festival. I also played darts with some people in the back of a cigar club.

    On a Monday evening around 8:00 PM, rather than calling it a night and turning down an offer to go to a BBQ at a friend of a friend’s house, I went. But it wasn’t easy. I still had all those thoughts running through my head: “it’s late,” “you’re tired,” “you have work tomorrow,” “just go next time,” yada yada yada.

    This time, though, I decided to say yes. Even with the knowledge that I had to find my way around the ridiculous streets of Santa Fe, which don’t seem to make any sense whatsoever.

    When I arrive, the friend that invited me meets me out front and shows me in. He introduces me to the hostess who was throwing the BBQ. Fortunately, I’m welcomed with open arms.

    I’m offered dinner, but go straight to dessert (5:00PM is much closer to my dinner time). I sit down at the table and start to talk with a group of six people. I get to know them and they get to know me.

    They seemed cool, although I didn’t think they were anything special. I got a couple numbers at the end of the night and went home.

    The seeds are sown.

    Over the next month, I slowly started to hang out with these new people. One of them invited me to go bowling with his friends. Another invited me to get drinks with some people.

    The momentum kept building and eventually I met a bunch of new people and was doing new things regularly. Before I knew it, I had a core group of five really good friends, and was talking to and hanging out with many others. Things were finally starting to turn around.

    Even though I didn’t think they were anything special right when I first met them, they ended up being some of the most amazing people I’ve ever met. Truly great friends—the type that bring soup to your house during their lunch break when you’re sick.

    Had I continued to judge people before getting to know them, I would never have made the friends I did. Coming from Southern California, I had a much different style and culture than the people I met. I could have easily just asked, “are these really people I want to become friends with?”

    Or, after meeting everyone at the BBQ, I could have shrugged them off and not hung out with them the following times.

    Well, deciding to say yes was the best decision of my life. It’s been almost four years since I left Santa Fe and moved back to So Cal, and I’m still good friends with those people. I’ll even see many of them at my wedding in September.

    This whole process taught me so much. Particularly, that it’s the person on the inside that is much more important than what you see on the outside. The person that you get to know over time, not in the first few minutes you meet them.

    And I’m not saying that just to be sweet and nice. People that I would have typically judged as “not my type” ended up being some of the coolest people I have ever met. Those are things you don’t realize the first time you meet someone.

    What Saying Yes Looks Like

    When people are inviting you to do things with them, you want to be reactively saying yes. Otherwise, you will need to be proactively saying yes by finding your own opportunities to meet people.

    Proactively say yes: Be proactive and find new things to do, while doing your best to meet new people when you are doing them. This can be joining a book club, an adult-league soccer team, or a weekly board game meet up. It can be volunteering or seeing a band at a local bar.

    It can also mean finding people online and emailing them, or going to the disc-golf course and pairing up with others. The goal is to find new experiences where you can meet new people, and then say yes to yourself by going!

    Reactively say yes: When people invite you to do different things with them, say yes. Although you might not be sure if you really like the person yet, or you don’t think the event or activity is something you’d have a lot of fun doing, do it anyway. And do it with the intent of getting to know the people you go with and meeting new people while you’re there.

    Being open to new experiences and new people changed my life dramatically for the better. If you are having trouble making new friends, wherever you are, you might want to consider saying yes more often.

  • If You’re Ever Feeling Lonely

    If You’re Ever Feeling Lonely

    If you're ever feeling lonely

  • Not Everyone Who Is Single Is Lonely

    Not Everyone Who Is Single Is Lonely

    Not everyone who is single is lonely

  • The Beauty of Being Single: 6 Benefits of Solitude

    The Beauty of Being Single: 6 Benefits of Solitude

    “I never found a companion that was so companionable as solitude.” ~Henry David Thoreau

    Shock. Rage. Sorrow. Excitement. Terror. These are just a handful of the emotions one experiences in the aftermath of a separation or divorce. Emotional rollercoaster? It’s more like being hit with the speed and velocity of a bullet train.

    I should know. After twenty-five years of marriage to a kind and accomplished man, I found myself alone.

    Our decision to divorce was neither acrimonious nor cruel; neither sudden nor impulsive. Rather, our decision to file for divorce was an incremental process.

    We had more disappointment than hope, more unease with each other than affection and contentment. As difficult as it was to recognize the wrong turns we’d made in our two-plus decades together, we both realized that it was time for each of us to draw a new map.

    While my husband remained in the home we had lived in together throughout our marriage and the raising of our daughter, the path on the new atlas of my life led me back to Italy, the country of my birth.

    In retrospect, it was far easier to relocate to somewhere radically different from the place I’d called home for thirty years than it was to sit with the equally radical emotions aroused by separating from the person who knew me best.

    Once the bags were unpacked, the boxes unloaded, and the small apartment I’d rented in the heart of Rome redecorated, I had to contend with the alien feeling of a naked ring finger and a heart full of pain.

    The relief of our separation—no longer would I have to tiptoe around the mounting frustration and disenchantment between us—was short-lived; the rush of excitement at the idea of “a fresh start” evanescent as a shooting star.

    With a job from home, only a shoebox of an apartment to tend to, and no wifely duties, motherly chores, or social commitments, I had only one thing to do and one place to go—and that was inward.

    It was lonely in there. Where, I kept thinking, was that rock-solid husband of mine who was ready to jump onto the roof at a moment’s notice when the gutters overflowed?

    Who would take care of me when I was sick, keep me warm when I was cold, ease me into sleep when I had insomnia? Who would share the beauties of life with me?

    How could I live if I didn’t have a partner to love?

    I was in profound disbelief (it wasn’t really over); angry (how could my husband let me go?); worried (would I end up begging for scraps of food in Piazza Navona?); ashamed (I should have tried harder); resolved (I’d get him back and we’d make it work), and adrift (life was pointless).

    But then resignation arrived, and with it, a certain, glorious freedom. I was divorced, not dead. The questions I had? It was akin to asking a well where I could find a drink of water. And in their absence, new ones arrived: Who were my neighbors in the eternal city? Which interests could I develop? How could I create a routine that nurtured my values? And how could I march in single file?

    As I began navigating life alone, I discovered that, while enormously different, a great deal of solace and satisfaction can be found in solitude. If you’re going through a similar transition, consider the following benefits of flying solo:

    1. Your imagination will soar.

    It’s true: Creativity emerges from quiet and an open agenda. Having long been a writer—but also a wife, mother, homeowner, and full-time corporate executive—I long ago learned to write against distraction.

    In my new space, where the only distractions were those I created, my imagination was provoked in ways that I hadn’t experienced since I was a child. Without time- constraints and working to the tune of a television show I wasn’t watching, I found myself freer on the page, more productive, and thoroughly content daydreaming about a daydream.

    If thinking of a long, unstructured weekend day fills you with the blues, use it to your advantage. Creative expression, whether through writing, drawing, or dancing, often proves to be cathartic for people.

    Paint your way through anger, redecorate a room to lift your mood, or spend an hour imagining the places you have the freedom to explore in your new, unencumbered state.

    2. Your life will become entirely yours.

    Responsibilities have always been a large part of my adult life. From commuting to the office to hosting dinner parties for my husband’s colleagues, rarely did my former schedule allot much time for what I—and I alone—wanted to do.

    In the absence of these duties, I found a surplus of time, energy, and excitement to pursue my passions. A candlelight yoga class? An art-house film on a Tuesday that would have been otherwise dedicated to household chores? Cocktails on a school night? Yes, yes, and yes, please!

    I discovered the deliciousness of creating my own schedule and following what called to me rather than what was expected of me—and you are wholly free to do the same.

    What fell by the wayside during your relationship—friendships, hobbies, unread novels, moving to the city of your dreams—are exactly where you left them. Only now you have the time and devotion to give them the attention and energy they deserve.

    3. You will learn self-reliance.

    While I was the master of my own life, I was also the one solely responsible for making sure that such a life worked.

    Going from a dual income to one was daunting at first—until I recalled the gift I had for budgeting pre-marriage, which allowed me to buy my first apartment before I turned twenty. A leaky faucet, a flat tire, a frustrating day? I bought a toolset and watched YouTube videos, befriended our local mechanic, and learned that Rainer Maria Rilke was entirely right when he said that no feeling is final.

    The more self-reliant I became, the more confident—and happy—I felt.

    Should you find yourself in the same place, start slowly but stay determined. Pick one area of your life where you need to become self-sufficient, whether it’s in balancing your checkbook or learning to cook for one. Once conquered, attack the next…and next, and next, and next, until you find yourself surprised that at one time you depended on anyone else at all.

    4. You will befriend yourself.

    With only myself to please and take care of, I embarked on a new relationship—with myself.

    I was tentative at first, much as one is when they first start dating someone new. Would I like a glass of cabernet out of habit because it’s what my husband often ordered, or did I think a Viognier might be a better fit with this dish? Would I like to stay at home and take a bath, or venture out to a café with a newfound friend?

    The more I began treating myself with the kindness and attentiveness I showed toward my husband and daughter, the more I got to know myself on a deeper, truer level, realizing how much of what I did and what I ate and how I acted was an act of either submission or compromise.

    If you’re in a similar position, listen to your needs, honor your wants (within moderation), and tune in to what your heart is telling you. The more you take care of yourself, the better equipped you will be to deal with the conflicting emotions your newfound single status has likely stirred.

    5. You will learn the art of a healthy inner monologue.

    Marriage and motherhood don’t leave much room for listening to one’s inner voice—there’s enough noise as it is. Alone, I was introduced to a whole cast of inner players I had silenced out of necessity for years. Some of these voices were unkind—judgmental, condescending, or tempting me in unhealthy directions—but with time and practice, I learned to conduct inner dialogues that were loving, beneficial, and illuminating.

    As you set out alone, give yourself the time and space to listen to the voices inside of you. Silencing those that are cold or self-sabotaging will allow you to hear the tenderness and determination of others. And, with time, you will cultivate an ability to listen to what is best for you—and the backbone needed to ignore all the rest.

    6. You will find peace with your past.

    Those first few months alone were ripe with recrimination. If only I’d done this; if only he’d done that. How could I have done this; how could I have done that? I was reprehensible, a failure, destined for a future of take-out alone and two too many cats. But, again, with time (a true salve for most things), I realized that the old adage is true: Everyone we meet comes into our lives for a reason.

    My marriage was not so much a failure as it was a stepping stone on my journey. I had lost, but I had also learned.

    If you’re bearing similar grief, consider compiling a list of what you have gained rather than focusing on what you’ve suffered; what you look forward to rather than what you miss.

    If you’re anything like me, you’ll find that the greatest lesson of all is that the person you were looking for was right where they were supposed to be all along: within.

  • How to Make New Friends When You’re Feeling Lonely

    How to Make New Friends When You’re Feeling Lonely

    Boy Sitting Alone

    “The only way to have a friend is to be one.” ~Ralph Waldo Emerson

    It’s a weird paradox.

    In a world where technology and social media seem to bring more of us together more of the time, recent research indicates that more of us are feeling lonely more of the time too.

    People sometimes deflect their feelings of social nakedness by making a joke of it.

    “Look at me: Norma No Mates!” they say when admitting again to having no plans for the weekend.

    But it’s no laughing matter.

    And I get it. I really do. I’ve been Norma No Mates till recently myself. At least that’s how it felt.

    Six years ago, I moved out of the city and away from a community of long-standing friends and neighbors.

    From a scenario in which I used to go out to work pretty much every day and got about on foot or public transport, now I work from home and go everywhere by car. Not great for those bumping into people in the street moments that can give such rich social possibilities.

    Add to the mix that at the same time my husband changed jobs and is now often away for long periods of time, and you can start to understand just how life began to feel very solitary at times.

    I was that person making a virtue out of watching DVD box sets of an evening.

    “Got anything on the agenda this evening?” a client might ask at the end of a call.

    “Catching up on a couple of episodes of Mad Men with a nice glass of red wine,” I’d say, feigning buoyancy, and thinking, “I hope this person can’t tell I’m feeling like Norma No Mates.”

    It sucked.

    And the more I ached for company, the more isolated I felt. The more isolated I felt, the less able I was to reach out. And the less I put myself out there, the worse it all was.

    But recently I’ve broken through this horrible catch 22, and I’m happy to say that Norma has moved on and my countryside life is feeling more sociable at last.

    What changed?

    Well, my circumstances didn’t, but I did. If you want to ditch your own Norma (or Norman) No Mates Status soon, here are some of my insights for you to riff off.

    Feeling lonely is not a judgment.

    We can feel lonely for lots of reasons. In my case it was a big change in my living arrangements, and unfamiliarity with how things worked in my new surroundings. For others, it’s caused by focusing on work and achievement to the detriment of relationships and social life.

    For others again, it’s caused by the loss of someone or something dear: a parent, partner, sibling, friend, or child, maybe even a career or ability once held.

    Someone very close to me right now is becoming profoundly deaf, and I can’t tell you just how that’s causing him to often feel very lonely.

    But irrespective of what’s brought it about, there’s no judgment on you. You are not a bad person because you are feeling lonely.

    Yet I think at times we allow loneliness to say something about our worthiness. I certainly confused the two for too long.

    But the truth is that being lonely is one thing. Feeling that you’re somehow not okay is another.

    So, step one, separate them out.

    And know that, no matter how you’re feeling, you’re already okay just as you are.

    Create time and space for connection.

    If you want to make friends, you have to make space for them. Energetically invite them into your life.

    That seems obvious, but it plays hard.

    For me, making space meant stopping being so anal about work, and being prepared to trade time previously assigned to it with social time. It also meant allowing myself to drop the guilt of missing some of my self-imposed deadlines in favor of being more playful.

    It’s tough to let go of our old, familiar behaviors. But allow yourself to see just how often they keep you feeling lonely, as much as they keep you feeling safe.

    Let yourself experiment, and notice how eventually you feel your life enriched by the connections that you yourself have created.

    Become your own best friend first.

    As you begin to reach beyond yourself, check out how needy you feel.

    Needy is never a great place from which to create anything—certainly not relationships of any kind. If you’re needy, no matter how you try to disguise it, other people pick up your vibe and are likely to distance themselves from you.

    So, while you’re waiting for friendships to coalesce around you, do what I did and overcome the neediness factor by becoming your own best friend. Take yourself on dates to the cinema, museum, coffee shop, and restaurants. Let yourself explore that new hiking route. Check in for an afternoon at the spa.

    Then friendships become the icing on your cake because they truly are about connection and not about making you feel better about yourself.

    Don’t wait for others to reach to you.

    The Norma No Mates factor can cause us to be reticent about reaching out to others. Instead, we wait for them to come to us.

    But that puts us in a pretty powerless position, which doesn’t help the way we’re feeling at all.

    Take the risk. Even if it feels scary, dare to reach beyond yourself and make the first move.

    That can be as simple as making small talk with the person behind you in the coffee shop queue, or saying hello to a face that’s starting to become familiar in your gym.

    And when someone begins to emerge as a person you’d like to spend more time with, don’t overthink it. Don’t get all up in your head about whether you really do want them for a friend, or what they may say if you approach them.

    Trust your gut. If you feel inspired to reach out, do. Then listen to the feeling that forms between you.

    That will guide you on where to go from there.

    Learn the art of rejection.

    Quite often we don’t reach out because we fear rejection. But “no” in whatever form—a silence, a straightforward negative, an unanswered phone message, text, or email, something not followed up—is just a “no.”

    It’s just a piece of information. Someone is in their own way letting you see that they aren’t the kind of person you want to befriend.

    Seeing the truth of this was another big turning point for me.

    By the same token I came to understand that if, having invited someone to coffee I found myself wanting to check my phone early on in our time together, the fact that I’d made the first move didn’t oblige me to say “yes” when they suggested a subsequent get together.

    In fact, the more you can see that both “yes” and “no” are neutral words and don’t need to be laden with shame or guilt, the more lightly you can navigate your way through what begins to become the game of making friends.

    Beware the social media effect.

    Look, I love social media and have lots of friends on platforms like Facebook and Twitter that I’ve never met in real life.

    These are genuine connections. But it’s tempting to make them a surrogate for people you’d have a glass of wine with, or hang out at the weekend’s soccer game.

    So, sure, keep surfing. But know when to put your device down in favor of making an in-the-flesh connection. One of my happy innovations has been finding opportunities to meet social media friends in person. And then subsequently getting the best of both worlds.

    Maybe you could try that too?

    My Life After Norma

    While it has taken time and a shed load of vulnerability, I can honestly tell you that my new life finally feels a lot more social. The dark loneliness cloud has lifted. I’m happy in a way that I was not for a while, and I notice how that gives a new sense of color, hopefulness, and vibrancy to, well, everything.

    Which makes me reflect on how grateful I am for Norma, the challenges her presence made me confront, and the things I’ve learned and the new people in my inner circle as a result.

    So, if you’re sitting there feeling like you’re doomed never to make friends, don’t diss the feeling. Listen to it with curiosity. Try some of the things here that worked for me, and wave Norma a happy goodbye.

    Boy sitting alone image via Shutterstock

  • Create a Team to Battle Fears and Loneliness

    Create a Team to Battle Fears and Loneliness

    People Holding Hands

    “When you realize there is nothing lacking, the whole world belongs to you.” ~Lao Tzu

    Five years ago, I found myself rebuilding my life after my fourteen-year marriage ended. During those first months preceding my divorce, crushing feelings of fear and loneliness often consumed me. Thankfully, I began seeing a wonderful therapist named Muriel.

    Each week, I held my breath until it was time for my appointment, when I could curl up on Muriel’s sofa and exhale all my anxieties.

    One week, when I was particularly overwhelmed, Muriel gave me the number of the local Crisis Hotline and insisted that I save it in my mobile phone.

    “I’m not suicidal!” I said, laughing as I dutifully recorded the number.

    A few nights later, I awakened in the middle of the night filled with anxiety and fear. I couldn’t stop crying. I called a good friend, but she didn’t answer. Just as I began to panic, I remembered the number Muriel gave me.

    After pouring my heart out to a complete stranger at the Crisis Hotline Center, an hour later I hung up the phone and promptly fell asleep. (In fact, I felt better from the moment I heard the volunteer’s voice on the end of the line.)

    Having the right resource empowered me to get the help I needed, when I needed it, in an appropriate manner.

    After that night, I realized the value of reaching out to the “right” person to help me through the various challenges I faced.

    In the months that followed, I came to rely upon my attorney to navigate the often rough waters of custody negotiation and property dispersal.

    I called on my accountant to provide me with guidance on my tax return.

    When I became anxious about my financial situation, I tapped the expertise of a financial planner to help me set up long- and short-term goals.

    In my personal life, I knew I could rely on my sisters for parenting tips, and I tapped the wisdom of my (single) friends when I began dating again.

    I also had colleagues with whom I could share ideas about pitching stories, or finding new clients. And I sought out a spiritual community with whom I could study, meditate, and pray.

    After a while, I began to look at every person in my life who helped me with an aspect of my well-being as a member of “Team Brigid.” Soon, my phone was filled with numbers of “experts” who could help me weather any crisis, or celebrate any triumph.

    Celebrities and millionaires have entourages and handlers to take care of their every task and need. But I don’t have to have fame or fortune to put together my own personal concierge service. In fact, having a team doesn’t have to cost me a cent; I only have to identify the people who are most valuable in my life and ask them for help.

    Creating my team roster didn’t take a lot of effort. Most of these people were already helping me in some capacity. But it’s a great source of comfort and confidence to create a list of all the people in various areas of my life who could help me with different tasks.

    For example, the mechanic who changes my car’s oil every 3,000 miles is an incredibly valuable member of my team—if I choose to look at him that way. Same goes for my hair stylist and my dry cleaner and my editor. I can look at each facet of my life—intellectual, physical, and spiritual—and identify people who are already helping me.

    By using the team perspective, I consider everyone who provides me a service as an ally, which makes the world a friendly place.

    The checkout woman at the grocery store who is always so nice to me (and everyone in her lane), and the Zumba instructor at my gym are all members of my team. As I expand my list, I realize how many people contribute to how I get through the day. Sometimes a friendly smile in the checkout lane makes all the difference.

    I don’t have an intimate relationship with every single person on my list. In fact, most of Team Brigid doesn’t know what’s happening in my personal life, let alone that they are on my “team roster,” but I can count on them all to play their part.

    Today, my team is more important than ever. Some days, just remembering that I have a wealth of (paid and unpaid) experts at the ready to support and guide me helps me maintain sanity and perspective when life becomes difficult.

    “Team Brigid” includes: my accountant, financial advisor, therapist, attorney, gynecologist, general practitioner, dentist, spiritual teacher, my neighbors, work colleagues, editors and clients, my car mechanic, hair stylist, 12-Step Sponsor, 12-Step program friends, my sisters and family members, girlfriends, my son, boyfriend, ex-husband*, my son’s teachers, coaches, and school counselors, and my son’s pediatrician.

    (*Yes, my ex is on my team today, as he plays an important role in helping raise our son.)

    Whenever I begin to feel anxious or lonely, I pull out my team roster and call up the appropriate player. For example, if I’m concerned about my son’s math grade, rather than sit and worry, I send an email to his teacher.

    Sharing my team perspective comes in handy when I have a loved one who is struggling with a difficult situation and leaning on me for support. Like my dear friend who (thankfully) slept through my 2am meltdown years ago, sometimes I just can’t be on the end of the phone—or I’m not the appropriate person to provide assistance.

    By helping my loved one develop her own team roster, I’m empowering her with far more help than I could by simply doling out advice based on my limited experience. (Plus, the team approach helps reduce caregiver burn out.)

    Who’s on your team? Spend some time today making a list of all the helpful people in your life who contribute to your well-being. You might find a position or two that needs to be filled. Or you may discover that you’ve “over-hired” in some areas.

    Looking at my life from a team approach helps me be open to the resources that are around me. I don’t have to be completely self-reliant, nor depend on any one person to take care of my needs.

    Ultimately, creating a list of the Most Valuable Players in my life helps me remember that, no matter what comes my way, I am never alone.

    People holding hands image via Shutterstock

  • How To Stop Being A Slave To Your Emotions

    How To Stop Being A Slave To Your Emotions

    Emotions

    “I don’t want to be at the mercy of my emotions. I want to use them, to enjoy them, and to dominate them.” ~ Oscar Wilde

    Would you describe yourself as emotional?

    Do you feel like your mood can change instantly according to what happens in your day?

    Then you may be a slave to your emotions.

    Being an emotional person and leading with the heart can both be great qualities. Leaning into our feelings allows us to be more self-aware and helps connect us to others. But if we allow our emotions to dictate how we live our lives, it can lead to anxiety, depression, and even have a negative impact on our health and relationships.

    As an empathetic person who feels things deeply, I have learned this lesson the hard way.

    It took me many years to grasp the concept that all emotions stem from thought. As a young woman with low self-esteem, I didn’t realize that my negative self-talk and sensitivity to others’ opinions were having a profound effect on my emotions and moods.

    After years of faulty thinking about who I was and what I had to offer in life, I found myself in my doctor’s office clutching a prescription for anti-depressants. My emotions had officially taken control of my life.

    At the time I had no idea that each negative thought was having a compound effect on how I viewed myself and my life.

    The older and wiser me has learned to be very aware of my emotions and to check in with myself on several levels before allowing them to have the final say.

    Here are some of the lessons I’ve learned over the years to help me manage my emotions rather than allowing them to lead the way. 

    Validate your emotions first.

    When you find yourself riding the wave of emotion, it’s important not to dismiss those feelings. Emotions can be a lot like unruly children in need of attention. Once we validate them, we allow them to be seen and have a voice.

    Feeling our emotions is an important part of life; it’s what we do with them that can create problems.

    For example, if I’m feeling bored, sad, or lonely, I tend to turn to food for comfort. This usually doesn’t end well. As I gain weight I then feel even worse because now my self-esteem suffers. Leaning into my emotions instead of numbing them with food has been a huge part of my process.

    When we validate our emotions, we become more aware and accepting of them, and we begin to understand where they come from. It’s only in this place of awareness that we can see what power they may hold over us. 

    Be aware of your triggers.

    If you know you struggle with specific emotions, such as anger, jealousy, or fear, try to become aware of the circumstances that trigger them.

    In my own life, I have learned that I often feel angry when I am disrespected or unappreciated. So if I ask my kids several times to do something and they ignore me, I feel anger beginning to rise inside.

    Not too long ago I would have given in to the emotion and started to shout, whereas nowadays I’m able to tune in to the preceding thought—they don’t respect me—recognize that it isn’t true, and avert the anger. 

    Awareness is power; it gives us the control to choose how we respond.

    Always remember that emotion is derived from thought. If we find ourselves experiencing strong emotions, it’s helpful to examine the thoughts that preceded them. Then ask the question, are these thoughts based on truth, or my perception of the truth? 

    Write it down.

    One of the biggest tools in helping me deal with my emotions has been to write them down. I have been journaling daily for about three years now, always asking questions about my emotions and trying to dig beneath the surface-level thoughts.

    If I feel at the mercy of my emotions, I’ll ask a simple question in my journal, such as, why do I feel so overwhelmed today? From there I can work back through the sequence of events and thoughts that have led me there.

    I will then ask a positive action question to engage with another emotion, such as, what is one positive thing I can do for myself right now?

    If you don’t have time to write, try to at least ask the questions.

    Take responsibility.

    How many times have you told someone that his or her actions made you feel a certain way? For example, “You made me angry when you were late.”

    It’s true that other people’s words and actions affect us, but we also need to take responsibility for the emotions we feel in response to those words and actions. No one can make you feel anything; it’s always your choice.

    So often the reactive emotions we feel are based on our own perception of the truth, and on the things that matter to us. Being late may be one of your triggers for anger, but for someone else it may be their norm and no big deal.

    Consider also that people act a certain way based on many influences that differ from your own, such as culture, upbringing, beliefs, and life experiences.

    Take time away.

    When you’re strongly connecting with a negative reactive emotion, it’s important to take time away from the person or situation you are reacting to. Never act on strong emotion. Wait until you are feeling calm and have given yourself time to rationalize and think. Only then should you act. 

    Even if the emotion is a positive one, it can still lead you down a destructive path. How many times have you done something you later regret in the name of love?

    Create your mantra.

    It’s easy to say, “Take time away,” but hard to do in the heat of the moment. If I find myself beginning to anger and I’m not able or quick enough to remove myself from the situation, I try to connect with my mantra. A mantra is just a word or short phrase that helps you become aware of your emotion and not be controlled by it.

    The word I use is “soft” because I associate this with a gentle temperament. For you it may be something completely different, depending on the emotion you are most reactive to.

    Ultimately, it’s important to remember that you are not your emotions—you have the ability to decide if they lead you or if you lead them.

    As you build awareness and learn to recognize your triggers, you will become increasingly savvy about when your emotions are serving you well and when you may need to take charge of them.

    Emotions image via Shutterstock

  • Why We Might Feel Lonely and What to Do About It

    Why We Might Feel Lonely and What to Do About It

    Lonely Woman

    “We have all known the long loneliness and we have learned that the only solution is love and that love comes with community.” ~Dorothy Day

    Throughout my life it’s been really hard to admit when I’ve felt lonely.

    I’ve been through intense periods where I have been without others.

    I’ve been surrounded by people yet have felt no real connections.

    The people I have loved have been physically or emotionally absent.

    I’ve simply been alone over weekends, over weeks, over months, over years, and it has been grueling and horrible.

    I found I had to monitor how much I shared with friends and family about how terribly lonely I felt, and that many resisted hearing it.

    I have been through periods when I’ve been successful and periods where my life has fallen into devastation; loneliness has been a part of both.

    In our society to admit loneliness seems like a big admission of failure. It’s uncomfortable to hear. The subtext is that our loneliness is a result of our inability to make connections. It’s all our fault.

    I don’t know about that. I think it’s time that we understood that we are not alone in our loneliness, and it has more to do with the society we live in than anything else.

    Experts are now saying that loneliness is becoming an epidemic, particularly in western societies.

    Governments are just starting to see loneliness as an issue that has serious repercussions on our health and well-being. It’s become obvious to the structures that govern and to those that study us that loneliness is an issue that needs to be addressed.

    Where Did This Epidemic Come From?

    The fact is that humans aren’t used to being so alone. We’ve had literally hundreds of thousands of years of programming for living in groups.

    Groups were important in keeping us alive. Our children were reared by the group. Meal times were a group affair. Groups were crucial in protecting us from predators and finding food.

    Groups played a part in helping us to advance as a species over our distant cousins, the chimpanzees. We were really good at hanging out, chewing the fat, having some intergroup fighting, and making up with group hugs.

    About 250 years ago the industrial revolution changed all that. Machines replaced the things we could do by hand. Stuff could be produced in mass quantities, which meant that we didn’t need to go down to Mrs Grumblebutt’s cottage for butter, or Arg Arg Arg’s corner of the cave for mammoth meat.

    Two hundred and fifty years is not long time if we consider that modern humans hung in groups for at least 100,000 years.

    This short, sharp change started to cause the dissipation of communities, as we no longer needed to rely on each other but on the system to meet our needs. We could live further apart, raise the height of our fences, and function as independent but separated beings.

    So there it is. It’s simple stuff, I know. We all know that it happened, but when we are crying in our houses we just need to remember that this has only just happened. Only just a little over 250 years ago things were different.

    We changed because our mechanism for survival changed from groups to a system, so it’s asking a lot to expect that a species that has had thousands of years of genetic programming for group living should all of a sudden live separately.

    Turning the Tide

    I think we still need groups for survival, maybe not so much anymore for the food in our mouths, but for everything else—for a chat, for help with working through issues, for a shared direction, a shared passion, for a fight or two if that’s what’s needed, for care, and for hugs.

    We don’t talk so much about pestilence or camels or carving sticks anymore, but there’s lots we need to discuss, such as how to fix a tap, climate change, cake recipes, sadness, music, politics—the list goes on.

    The rise of online communities is evidence that we are programmed for group living, but we really do need face-to-face contact, as that’s what we are used to as a species, whether it be through hobbies, friendships, families, or building better societies. We need to revive our tribes!

    So what’s stopping us from being part of a face-to-face group? One of the remedies for loneliness is within our grasp, so why aren’t we doing anything about it?

    Part of it could have to do with the recent rise of the ridiculously busy movement that seems to have appeared in response to loneliness. It’s about filling one’s life up so there’s no time to feel alone, and it has a particular call and response mechanism.

    “How are you?”

    “I’m so super duper busy. How are you?”

    “I’m ridiculously crazy over-the-top busy.”

    Hmmmm. Being ridiculously busy is not a badge of honor but evidence of imbalance. It’s not surprising that our culture has invented it, as there’s such a big gap to fill, but it’s not the way forward.

    It’s logical that ridiculously busy people get worn out and can feel even lonelier in the process.

    If one is rushing around, there’s little time to forge deeper bonds and be there for others. It’s rewarding and stimulating in the short term, but self-defeating in the long run.

    Many of you could argue that you are ridiculously busy as a result of society and its demands, but I would say that busyness is a choice, and we need to ask ourselves why we have made these choices.

    Was it to fill some gaping hole? Is it necessarily your fault that the hole is there as per the discussion above?

    When I think about my friends and family and their resistance to hearing about my feelings of loneliness, I realize there’s a very real possibility they felt this underlying loneliness too.

    Maybe underneath all those layers of busyness there was a gaping hole, and hearing about someone else’s loneliness was too much of a trigger for theirs.

    The problem with the ridiculously busy movement is that there’s no longer any time to hang out. All engagement must be scheduled. We don’t have time to ask of each other what we truly need. We don’t feel we have a right to do so.

    So what’s the answer? How can we feel less lonely?

    We need to reduce the amount of things we are doing, to see the formation of a group or groups as a priority, and to thank the system sincerely for supporting us but to make a firm commitment to working out how we can support each other. We need our tribes.

    Alternatively, if we aren’t busy and feel terribly lonely, then we’ve got plenty of time to get on our sneakers and get out to find the tribes that we’ve lost. We need to honor our programming.

    I know that there will be resistance and fear associated with making any of these moves, as we’ve put up a lot of gates between us over the last couple hundred years, but we’ve got to swallow this fear and go for it.

    Feel comfort from the fact that it’s the path that almost everyone else in our bloodline walked, so we do have some good intuitive backing to help us.

    Building Community with Self

    As well as being fierce about re-establishing our tribes, there’s something else that might help with loneliness.

    Most people in tribal communities had a role. They made shoes, rubbed goat dung on sick people, made swords and crossbows and feather dusters when they were feeling more peaceful.

    I’ve found one of the absolute keys to feeling less lonely is to ask myself, “If I could be anything, what would I be in the village? How would I serve others?”

    The beauty of asking this question is that we are actually asking who am I? We are getting to know ourselves.

    If we tune in to what we really want, we are ultimately not going to have to ignore or run away from our deepest needs.

    Obviously direction or purpose is just part of the puzzle of getting to know ourselves, but it’s a good place to start.

    I’ve found that honoring my calling as a writer has been absolutely fundamental in feeling comfortable with myself, and I’m far more able to handle times of loneliness and rejoice in times of connection.

    All this comes with the big caveat that society is, once again, not particularly encouraging of this type of thinking, and will do lots of things to put up barriers and fears to stop us from doing and being what we want. Society has created a structure, and there’s an incredible amount of pressure to conform to it.

    That said, it’s worth it to be able to sit down with yourself and say, “I’m happy with you. Finally you are doing what I’ve been asking for all along.”

    Let’s call this process self-talk, self-community, building a helpful dialogue in ourselves. The bottom line is that when we are happy with ourselves and are listening to our beautiful inner voice, we feel a lot less lonely.

    Calling in the Tribe

    So there it is. A little exploration into why we are lonely and what to do about it.

    Feeling lonely is not your fault. Our society has thrown us a bit of a curveball and now it’s time to throw that ball right on back, spit on a wall, build a bonfire, and have a super huge hug with ourselves and someone lovely.

    And right now, I’m also sending you that hug across the campfire, ‘cause that’s what tribe members do.

    Lonely woman image via Shutterstock

  • How to Tell When Someone Needs a Friend

    How to Tell When Someone Needs a Friend

    Two Friends Laughing

    “Don’t wait for people to be friendly. Show them how.” ~Unknown

    When I was in high school I was shy, to say the least. I guess a more accurate description would be to say that I was insecure. Painfully insecure.

    Looking back, I don’t know why I cared so much. But I did. I was too insecure to ever say hi to anyone in any of my classes, or to try to sit with anyone new at lunch.

    There were even some days when I went through the entire school day without speaking a word. I felt utterly alone and certainly friendless.

    One day, though, for no discernible reason whatsoever, a kid on my school bus started talking to me. He lived a few houses down the road from me, and his sister went to the same elementary school where mine did.

    We didn’t really talk about anything all that significant, but he seemed to actually be listening to what I had to say, and I felt like someone really cared about what I had to talk about—even if it was nothing at all.

    I’ve tried to model myself after this guy since then. To be a genuinely good listener and to go out of my way to help someone who looks like he or she is having a bad day. It’s a great feeling—feeling like someone wants to hear your thoughts.

    But it can be pretty easy to get caught up in the on-goings of our daily lives. So much so, that we may not notice when others around us need someone to talk to.

    Being able to recognize the signs of someone in need of a friend is important. It’s important to that person because loneliness not only makes you feel bad, but it has also been linked to health problems like higher stress, a negative life outlook, and a less-healthy immune system.

    However, being able to recognize when someone is in need of a friend can be important for you, too.

    The more people you reach out to and form meaningful relationships with, the more friends you will have. This helps fulfill your biological need to be social and can give you extended support systems and greater life happiness.

    So often, though, we don’t want to reach out to others in need of a friend because we’re “too busy” with what we’re doing at the moment or because we simply don’t notice the signs that they need someone to talk to.

    But we need to notice, and we need to care enough to do something about it when we notice.

    More than 800,000 people worldwide commit suicide each year, according to the World Health Organization. And while my purpose in writing this is not to focus on suicide and its prevention, I think it is worth mentioning that having a friend to talk to could do a lot for a potentially suicidal person. It can do a lot for any person.

    Here are some subtle signs that someone might be in need of a friend. Take a few minutes of your day to ask them how they’re doing, offer a smile, or just shoot the breeze with them. 

    They often do things by themselves.

    This could just be shyness, or it could be a sign that someone is uncomfortable reaching out to others.

    If you know someone who tends to stay removed from groups and conversations, they might simply need someone else to take the initiative. Many people want to talk to their coworkers and peers more—they just don’t know how to start.

    They try really hard to make small talk.

    Pay attention to acquaintances who regularly ask what you’re doing for the evening, what you think of the weather, and if you saw the latest episode of whatever show you both watch.

    True, sometimes such small talk is just polite conversation made to ease an awkward silence, but it can also be a sign that someone needs a little human interaction. Try to ask them a few questions about their plans now and then, too.

    Their hobbies are their entire lives.

    A 2011 study published in the Journal of Consumer Research suggests that lonely people sometimes form attachments with their possessions or hobbies because they don’t have enough social connections to feel fulfilled.

    So yeah, you may find it kind of odd that your coworker collects and names various kinds of plants, but that person might just need a friend to offer their company instead. Take the initiative to ask the person about their hobbies and establish some things you have in common with them.

    They spend way too much time on social media.

    To some extent, we all spend a little more time on Pinterest and Facebook than we should. But if you know someone who is not only on social media all the time, but is also talking about it all the time, that person may simply not have enough real life friends to put their social friends in perspective.

    They ruminate on negative things.

    According to research published in the journal Current Directions in Psychological Science, lonely people tend to spend more time focusing on stressful experiences. People who tend to dwell on their negative experiences—even the seemingly small ones—are likely spending too much time alone.

    That driver who cut your coworker off in traffic last week? Still an issue. However, it might only be an issue because that person isn’t getting the external social stimuli he or she needs.

    While one of these signs could warrant taking a few minutes out of your day to ask how someone is doing, someone who displays several of these behaviors might really need a friend to hang out with. Make yourself available for a movie and some drinks, or suggest getting together over the weekend to check out that hiking trail you’ve been eyeing up.

    Granted, you won’t be able to help everyone. People suffering from a serious medical condition like depression or a bipolar disorder may be less receptive to your “Hey, man, how’s it going?” But that’s no reason not to try.

    And as far as that kid on my school bus who spoke to me way back when, I still remember him and think about him often. Granted, I did end up marrying him, but that’s another story for another day.

    Friends talking image via Shutterstock

  • To This Day: An Inspiring Video About Pain, Loneliness, and Beauty

    To This Day: An Inspiring Video About Pain, Loneliness, and Beauty

    If you’ve ever been bullied, if you’ve ever felt ugly, if you’ve ever felt lonely, or unworthy, or unlovable, then you and I can relate. We are graduating members from the class of “we made it.” And like me, you may find this video powerful, moving, and beautiful.

  • 8 Solutions for Loneliness That Don’t Require a Romantic Relationship

    8 Solutions for Loneliness That Don’t Require a Romantic Relationship

    Lonely woman

    “People are lonely because they build walls instead of bridges.” ~Joseph F. Newton

    The epiphany has finally occurred. Why on earth has it taken so long? I ask myself this as I look back on the last nine years, which I have spent trying to cover up my real issue. Loneliness.

    After getting married at twenty and then leaving nineteen years later, it took another two years before I met another man that I fell in love with almost instantly. He told me from the very beginning it would never be a relationship, and yet I have persevered with our friendship in various formats for the last seven years.

    During that time, I have also tried, albeit unsuccessfully, to find someone else to be a part of my personal life. I met someone else just five months ago, and after a very difficult dating period of three and half months, I ended it. We had completely different primary values. So essentially, I have been single for nine years now.

    To my surprise, the last man taught me that the last nine years have not been a waste. Being single does not mean that I am not of value to society (which is what I had been thinking).

    Now that I am on my own again, I realize that this whole process of finding a partner has not been about finding a relationship at all. I have been desperately trying to overcome loneliness—and possibly for a long as twenty years!

    Let’s look at what has been happening and see if you can identify with any of these:

    Workaholic

    Rather than face the real issue of loneliness, I have dedicated myself to my work and various business enterprises.

    The people out there in the real world can see and have benefited from my productive endeavor. Alas, I have not managed to keep a reasonable amount of rewards for myself or spend as much time as I would like with my children.

    Constantly helping

    Yes, I find it easier to say yes rather than no. Oh Sue, you are so great at … could you please…? And the answer is nearly always yes. It’s only no when I have something else on that I am doing for someone else.

    Neglect

    I don’t cut my hair every six weeks, I only get my nails done if required, and I consider the effort it takes to get dressed up a waste of productive time rather than something fun and special to do. It recently took me four hours to get dressed and ready for a Christmas function, and I felt exhausted by the end of it. Isn’t it supposed to be fun to get dressed up? Why do social occasions feel like work too?

    Social isolation

    I moved from my hometown twenty years ago. Since then, I have raised two children, who are now nineteen and sixteen, without a family support network. I have tried countless times to connect with various people, but somehow they perceive me as too busy and so we hardly ever catch up.

    I have had brief moments of companionship and then lengthy periods of getting on with life on my own.

    Victimhood

    This is the real ugly face of it. I have been very good at disguising it in various forms to attract a bit of sympathy, but if I really want to fess up, then I should admit that I have fallen into the trap of reminiscing and saying “poor me.”

    That stops me from doing what I could be doing, and it gives me an excuse to say why my situation is like this and state that a relationship is the only panacea, when it isn’t.

    I have lost count of the number of books I have read, personal development courses I have attended, and healers I have sought assistance from. I have tried counseling, psychology, hypnotherapy, pastoral care, energy healing, kinesiology, massage, talking to anyone who will listen, writing, walking my neighbor’s dogs, going to all sorts of events, and more.

    I now realize that the root cause of all of this searching for answers or a cure for me is loneliness.

    However, I am wise enough to know that some strategies for overcoming loneliness are more successful than others.

    I also know that loneliness can occur either inside or outside of a relationship, as I have felt it in both situations.

    The irony is that I regularly advise people on how to connect in a new location and have even carried out my own advice, but the safety barrier I have put around myself to protect me from the pain of loneliness has stopped the friendship from coming through.

    I have been friendly but not vulnerable enough to let people see the real me. No wonder they have let me fend for myself!

    If you have also created a personal protection barrier or are feeling lonely, I can recommend these tips to overcome it:

    1. Connect through your sports, hobbies, passions or interests.

    Meet like-minded people who share something that you also love. They will make time for you; other people already have full calendars.

    2. Borrow or adopt a dog and go walking.

    People talk to people with dogs.

    3. Talk to senior citizens.

    They have plenty of wisdom, time, and advice that they can share. By listening, you are also validating them as well as yourself.

    4. Expect it to be challenging.

    It may be difficult for you, but don’t give up. Keep going but start with the easiest options first.

    5. Find out why you feel lonely.

    Perhaps there is some bitterness, resentment, or guilt that you are carrying around. It is time to forgive yourself and others so that you have the best chance possible to connect with yourself and others.

    6. Celebrate.

    Develop new routines and rituals to celebrate special occasions and reward your new healthy behaviors.

    7. Be brave.

    It takes courage and persistence to overcome your bad habits—but it all starts with you, not someone else. Ask for help, seek some guidance, but take full responsibility for your happiness.

    8. Dream big.

    Visualize what you want in the future and watch it materialize. Keep your vision sharp and clear.

    Can you see how none of these suggest finding a partner or fixing the one you have? Isn’t that liberating? By connecting through various people, activities, or regular commitments, you are no longer dependent on a partner to complete you or help you overcome your feelings of loneliness.

    And you may just find that when you are no longer lonely, you will be happy—with or without a partner.

    Photo by Hartwig HKD

  • You Are Enough (Even if You’re Not in a Relationship)

    You Are Enough (Even if You’re Not in a Relationship)

    Tamara Levitt, the talented writer and illustrator who brought us the inspiring video Ode to Failure, has created another uplifting short film about being single. If you’ve ever felt that you’re lacking because you’re not in a relationship, this one’s for you!

  • Coping with the Pain of Loneliness After a Breakup

    Coping with the Pain of Loneliness After a Breakup

    Breakup

    “Relationships are like glass. Sometimes it’s better to leave them broken than hurt yourself trying to put it back together.” ~Unknown

    I am at a phase in my life right now where I’m struggling with loneliness.

    Most of the time, I feel a deep sense of disconnection from the world around me and the people I share it with.

    The mere fact that I am writing this in the small hours of the morning, deafened by the ear-splitting silence of an empty flat, unable to sleep, simply emphasizes this point to me even harder.

    The empty flat in question is mine. And the situation in which I find myself was not part of the plan that I had envisioned for my life at this moment in time.

    Everything that was once familiar has now changed.

    It was during the end of summer of last year that I split up with my long-term boyfriend. We had begun our six-year relationship stepping out into the big wide world, side by side, doing the grown-up thing of getting our first place together.

    It was new and exciting. The future looked promising. And to be fair, it did work, on and off, for a respectable number of years.

    However, fast forward past the cluster of good times and the occasional happy holiday, and I found myself having to face up to the heartbreak of a damaged relationship. In particular, the daunting prospect of sharing my future with another human being who, in essence, I just did not feel a connection with anymore.

    I could choose to spend my days feeling alone, on the surface still part of the relationship, but deep down feeling emotionally detached and distanced from him.

    I could patiently wait for the days where I felt an element of hope—the momentary optimism that everything would turn work out okay for us in the end. I could even reason with myself that this is only a rough patch in our relationship, just a little blip in the overall bigger picture.

    Or I could face up to the truth and accept the glaringly obvious: it was over, unfixable, and time to move on.

    For months my thoughts were in constant battle. The laborious task of trying to make things work seemed like it was set up to be life-long endeavor. Neither of us had the enthusiasm anymore. It seemed we had simply lost the passion.

    In the end, we knew what was coming. It was time to call it a day, move on, and go our separate ways.

    Here is what I’ve learned about dealing with loneliness:

    Feel your emotions.

    When you strip away a big part of your life, you feel exposed, empty, and vulnerable.

    During the time after my breakup, I experienced deep feelings of unshakable loneliness. And I still suffer with these feelings from time to time.

    However, I have learned that masking those uncomfortable feelings (my escapism being alcohol and meaningless dates) only leaves the pain unattended for a while longer.

    I started to understand that I needed to accept my loneliness as a true emotion. It would not just softly fade away, no matter how hard I tried to numb my feelings or look for distractions.

    As you experience your emotions, you start to feel lighter. Give them the time and space they need to be fully expressed. Write down your thoughts. Talk about them with someone. Acknowledge that they do exist and that what you are feeling is very real to you.

    Trust that the pain does eventually lose its intensity, making room for you to experience a sense of calmness and clarity amidst the difficulties.

    Listen to your own advice.

    I have indulged in my fair share of self-help books over the years, ranging from detailed accounts on depression, self-esteem issues, and more recently, tips and tricks on beating loneliness.

    These stories may offer a few moments of fleeting comfort as you flick through the pages. But they are not able to take the sting out of the raw emotions that you experience first-hand, such as during those times when you are sitting alone, feeling fed up and isolated from the world around you.

    Therefore, I have learned to take only the advice that works best for my own mind, body, and spirit, and leave the rest for someone else.

    Maybe you are someone like me who prefers to stay at home, enjoying a book, watching a film, or having a bath rather than getting “out there,” meeting people, and forging new relationships.

    Sometimes you just need to give yourself a break, making space during those times when you need to rest and restore. Go at your own pace. Understand that you are your own best teacher. And only you will know when it feels right to take the brave step out of your comfort zone into the unknown.

    Realize there is nothing to fix.

    We know the world is a busy place, crammed full of busy people with busy lives. But that doesn’t mean we need to rush around trying to mend everything that is seemingly wrong with us all of the time.

    While learning to stay with uneasy emotions, I realized that I didn’t need to find a speedy resolution for the difficult feelings. It’s okay to feel lonely; it’s just one of our many human emotions.

    In fact, it was a relief. There was no need to force myself to search in all the wrong places for the solution anymore. I am certainly not the only single person in the world. Why did I feel that I needed to fix this aspect of my life so soon? It wasn’t even broken.

    Try and enjoy the freedom that comes from being detached. Appreciate the opportunity to gain introspection on yourself. You may even discover new interests or familiarize yourself with old forgotten hobbies now that your life has shifted focus.

    Accept how it is.

    Accepting that there is nothing wrong with how I am feeling gave me the grace to relax. There is no problem right now; therefore, there is nothing I urgently need to attend to.

    I know that eventually life will change again; it always does.

    How I am feeling now may not be a true reflection on how I feel in a few weeks, months, or years’ time. And I trust that I will stumble across whatever it is I am looking for at some point again in the future.

    Right now, though, I am experiencing my life as it is, complete with its bundle of thought-provoking emotions that come as part of the package.

    I have learned to accept that this is just another passing chapter in my story, purposely placed here to keep life interesting and meaningful.

    It may not be a highlight, but it is still part of my life. And I can live with that.

  • Dealing with Loneliness: Hold onto Patience, Not the Past

    Dealing with Loneliness: Hold onto Patience, Not the Past

    loneliness

    “Patience is not passive; on the contrary, it is active; it is concentrated strength.” ~Edward G. Bulwer-Lytton

    Last night, I discovered the tiniest of creatures in my shower: a minute scorpion, no larger than the average human fingernail.

    I could not for the life of me work out how it had ended up here because I live on the third floor of an apartment building in a busy South African city. Nonetheless, there it was—a little fellow in the corner of the tiles, receiving ricocheted water droplets on his tiny little carapace.

    My main personal learning theme for this year seems to be patience, and, whether initiated by the universe or by my own hand,  I have set out to embrace it in everything I do.

    Starting my first job in January required me to apply patience in many ways: in my interactions with co-workers and clients, in driving in to work every morning in such a bustling city, in waiting for a slot between several adjacent meetings to eat my lunch. Most importantly, it required me to exert patience on myself.

    Patience has never really been a strength of mine, especially with regard to relationships.

    I was a serial monogamist since I was 17, bridging each ending relationship with a romance that I could immediately start. Even small gaps between these adjacent relationships were filled with several casual physical interactions just to ensure that bridge was securely built.

    But somehow, it has been over a year since my last romantic commitment to another human, and I have learned to curb my need for somewhat less committed relationships to a great extent too.

    On the second night since the little being’s arrival, I could not find it anywhere. I bent down to examine every crevice, every dimple, every crack. Nowhere.

    I was concerned it may have ended up under my duvet, but decided to deal with that concept closer to bedtime.

    For now, I could remain blissfully unaware.

    I got into the shower and, after a few moments, the scorpion appeared to me mere centimeters from where it was discovered.

    I picked it up with an ear bud and it reared its tail and claws at me, before promptly turning and marching straight down the hard plastic rod away from me. I decided it would be best to release him outside, where he would hopefully find a decent meal and undergo less stress.

    After a good couple of flicks of the ear bud outside of my window, he let go. I released him to the external world knowing that the large tree ferns below my apartment would cushion his fall.

    I suddenly felt sadness wash over me for a reason I could not instantly grapple. It was such a transient little creature and I had so little to do with its life—nor did it have very much to do with mine. So why did it make me pause to feel and think?

    It became clear that the metaphor had struck my subconscious mind and was allowing me to work through feelings, those that I had previously not fully embraced, in a safer environment.

    The scorpion was akin to many a romantic partner: showing up from seemingly nowhere, planting themselves in the heart of our lives for a moment, and then inevitably vanishing from our existence.

    And sometimes, when a romantic partner gets ripped away, we panic in the void left behind, and make hasty decisions to fill it with something or anything at all.

    When my last relationship ended, I felt so terribly empty, as if part of me had evaporated alongside him as he walked away from me for the last time. He told me that I was not “the one.” I translated this as him saying that I could not be loved by him because I was innately flawed, beyond being lovable.

    So I threw myself into an active social life. I met people while out in bars—people who seemed to see the beauty in me—and established whatever form of connection with them they would allow me to have.

    Again and again, all they allowed me was a material connection based on physical need. I was fooled by them wanting to see me again. All they wanted was a repeat of the night we met. All I needed was to be deemed loveable.

    When they saw this need in me, they ended their connection without contemplation or care, and I didn’t always see it coming. But I was dragging this behaviour out of them. I was the cause and the effect. I was the sole player in the game. They were not to blame.

    Lovers and partners may exit in innumerable ways: they may aggressively march out of your life, they may gently release you, or they may leave you breathless by their abrupt and unjustified departure. They may leave this earth physically altogether. You may do the equivalent to your lovers and partners.

    I wandered into three considerable outcomes, and justifications, of patience.

    • Only patience allows us to fully understand why important people in our lives come and go.
    • Only patience allows us to reap the lessons of a past emotional interaction in its entirety.
    • Only patience from the point of solitude onwards will allow us to wander into a truly constructive circumstance with another human being.

    To liberate others is to liberate oneself. And vice versa.

    I then recognized that I had been holding on to some things (or someones) for a long time. People that I consciously remembered had left my world, but part of whom were still with me.

    I held onto their messages, gifts to me, and belongings they had left at my apartment. I held onto the things they said to me out of sheer gratitude and love for me, and replayed these over and over in my head, out loud. I held onto the smiles that I had caused. I held onto the idea that they would come back.

    These were not the full, whole, and meaningful parts. These were exoskeletons—something left behind that the person no longer needed when they moved on, but that I held tightly in my grasp to reassure myself that I was not alone.

    And in no way will these parts ever be that person. In no way will these elements ever represent the entirety of a being. In fact, they are warped memories that are left by your mind to comfort you and nourish your wounds, but are anything but true.

    My last romantic relationship’s end had been the most peaceful departing that I had ever experienced. He had gently released me. But for a while, I was lost—with the shell of him, and (seemingly) as a shell of myself.

    The fear of not being complete when solitary can be devastating. You are more inclined to stick with people who abuse and degrade you. You are more likely to pass up opportunities that may lead you to fulfilment in your career and personal life if they don’t allow you to stay with the person you’re bound to.

    Your confidence and lust for life diminishes when you are alone, and you may make harmful and self-destructive decisions.

    The time I have spent “alone” has been remarkable. I have embraced my deepest fear: loneliness. I have been afforded the opportunity to see my courage, and my scorpion-like perseverance.

    Now that I hold onto patience and not the past, I am more free. My confidence has been amplified, my sleep and concentration have improved, my moods have stabilized, pursuing my passions has a daily place in my life, I show more love to the people that matter, and I am a more easy-going person. In an interesting way, this all sets me up to meet the right people as a side effect.

     I encourage you to hold onto patience, and not the past, too.

    One of the easiest ways to instantly gain patience is to carry out a kind of on-the-spot meditation. When you are feeling overwhelmed or flustered by guilt, sadness, or regret from your past, stop your thoughts altogether and focus on the tension in your muscles, especially your face, neck and shoulders.

    Blink slowly, and let this tension go with a deep breath. You are not your worst mistakes. You are not the person from yesterday, or last month, or the previous year. You are present in this moment as a full human being. You have the ability and freedom to make new choices.

    Photo by Raj

  • You Don’t Have to Be Lonely: Proactively Choose to Connect with People

    You Don’t Have to Be Lonely: Proactively Choose to Connect with People

    Happy Brother and Sister

    “Make the best use of what is in your power and take the rest as it happens.” ~ Epictetus

    Do you know that feeling when you are completely alone?

    I don’t mean in a calm, solitary, I-choose-to-be-on-my-own kinda way.

    It’s the alone that inflates with silence that makes your ears ring. It’s the ache in the pit of your gut that boils the insecurities and needless feelings of rejection. It’s the push of desperate pain that wells in your eyes and stains your cheeks.

    You know, that kind of alone?

    I never intended to feel this way. When I first moved to Paris, the images of hope and “my future starts here” were bursting from every pore.

    As I whizzed around daily life, getting to know my new colleagues, digging into shiny new work projects and exploring the jewels of this amazing city, I was so engulfed in the newness of it all that I made no time to stop and think about the long term.

    And there was no need to. I was embarking on an exciting new phase of my life. There was no time to stop and think!

    But then the newness faded. My colleagues became familiar to me. My job was less about discovery and more about delivery. My apartment was decorated. I was done being “new.”

    And that’s when reality finally sunk in.

    It was time for normality. Routine. Familiarity.

    But nothing in Paris was like my old life. I didn’t have any real friends here; nobody I could call and say “hey, let’s hang out together today.” Family were in a completely different country too.

    The emptiness was explosive.

    Humans are naturally social creatures, and I am not just gregarious; my energy comes from connecting with others. Taking this option away from me was like stripping my identity bare.

    I didn’t descend into a depression. Neither did I go out nor have wild, cocktail-soaked nights. In fact, there was no defining moment when a flare of inspiration transformed me from the no-friends-alone-on-the-weekends person to a blossoming social butterfly.

    As with anything I had in my life, friendship would take time to achieve. And even then, there was no end game, no one event that signified completion.

    Building a life filled with what I wanted would not swiftly appear through chanting a few affirmations or signing up to a list. I would have to define it for myself. It would be an evolutionary process. The difference was made using two words: what and how.

    What did I actually want? It was simple. I wanted to have someone I could call and spend some time with. But more than ever, I just wanted engagement, conversation, a spark of chemistry and shared experiences.

    I didn’t want acquaintances. I wanted real friends—the ones where we shared a mutual respect and just had each others’ back. Simple!

    How to get there started with letting go of preconceptions and insecurities, like:

    • Everyone already has a circle of friends. Why would they want to befriend me?
    • I don’t speak the language yet, so how can I engage with new people?
    • The French are notoriously unfriendly, so the odds are against me anyway.

    Thoughts like this alone could have been strong enough to keep me routed in my own self-doubt.  But my security did not come from removing the doubts, but choosing to take action in spite of them.

    My journey to finding new friends began with two main themes: the people I knew already, and the things I was interested in doing.

    I decided I would first ask a few colleagues to have lunch with me. These conversations revealed shared interests, so I asked one colleague to join me at a couture class where we learned to sew dresses. Another colleague and I went indoor-wall climbing.

    Mingled with this was using the desire to learn French to also engage with people outside of the office. I joined an online group and began meeting people who wanted to learn English and in turn they taught me French. This created a reason to meet and some common ground to work from.

    Some of these people have become irreplaceable friends and some I will probably never see again. But I found simple joy during this process. Would I ever have encountered these people if I had not made the effort to do so in the first place?

    And that is perhaps the most fundamental lesson from this experience. If I wanted friends, I had to ask for them. It was my responsibility to make the first move. There was no magic pill, no secret formula—just discovering the what and the how.

    What changes have you made to feel less lonely? What has this taught you about yourself?

    Happy kids image via Shutterstock

  • Recovering from the Pain of Bullying and Finding Confidence as an Adult

    Recovering from the Pain of Bullying and Finding Confidence as an Adult

    Waiting

    “If your number one goal is to make sure that everyone likes and approves of you, then you risk sacrificing your uniqueness, and therefore, your excellence.” ~Unknown

    I envied the clusters of kids at recess, playing games from which I was always excluded, not just because I couldn’t play them, but also because I was the class outcast. I envied them, the ease with which they moved; their grace, speed, and precision as they ran, kicked, danced, dove. Things I could hardly hope to do.

    But it wasn’t just my Cerebral Palsy. It was something that wasn’t really about my looks or behavior or the fact that my day-to-day life was so utterly different from theirs.

    It was everything: the thick, black boys’ shoes that I wore because they could fit the orthotics strapped to my legs, and the long white knee socks that I wore with them, their cuffs folded over the Velcro straps to prevent chafing.

    It wasn’t anything you could put your finger on, something that could be explained or proven; it was in the tone of their voices, in the endless, hated laughter.

    I couldn’t honestly complain to a teacher or a principal that they were making fun of me because of the silly lunch bag I carried, couldn’t make a scene because I was the only one out of thirty kids who didn’t receive an invitation to a classmate’s birthday party or a dopey paper heart on my desk at Valentine’s Day.

    In twelve years of public school there were maybe three incidents that involved actual contact abuse: a shove, a chair pulled out from under me when I went to sit down. One time, while working on a group project, I chimed in with a comment, and one of the girls twisted my arm and told me if I spoke again, they would kill me.

    The rest of the time, it was subterfuge, gaslight incidents, “pranks” that were anything but comical.

    They would rifle my coat pockets, not to steal anything valuable, but for ammunition: every tiny detail of my life was mocking-fodder, something to be laughed about behind palms, whispered through textbook pages; nasty comments and caricatures doodled on notebook paper and passed when the teacher wasn’t looking.

    Those girls were suspicious of something they didn’t understand, and jealous of what they thought of as special treatment. When they paid attention to me at all, it was pointedly catty. The rest of the time, they were cold.

    They would rearrange things in my desk when I was out of the room, hide things or simply mess them up. I was too damnably, painfully shy to confront them; the few pathetic times I managed to bring it up they feigned utter innocence and acted like I was crazy.

    It became almost a relief to be ignored, even though it was incredibly lonely. When you are abused every day, to be passed over feels like a gift. I didn’t know how to articulate my loneliness. 

    Like when I sat alone at lunch because the other girls wouldn’t “let” me sit at their table. When I sat alone with a book at recess, the yard monitor told me, “Stop reading and talk to somebody; how do you expect to make friends if you don’t hang out with the other girls?”

    She didn’t get it. None of them did, those harried, overworked authority figures. They had too much to do to pay attention to one friendless kid, and one so quiet, so polite; they had other students to deal with, the troublemakers, the ones constantly sentenced with detention, the ones from troubled families who were cutting class and already smoking at age eleven, who mouthed off and were on the verge of flunking.

    So they forgot about me.

    My parents tried to solve my problems. There were years when there were meetings with principals, guidance counselors, and the school psychologist several times a month. The bureaucrats of the school system just wanted the situation to go away.

    The school board tried to make it seem like it was my fault: I was just an awkward, oversensitive kid who needed to get along better with her peers. The guidance counselor, a Pollyanna optimist who had smiley faces all over her office and gave equally vapid advice, told me to try harder, she was sure that the girls wanted to be my friends. She was useless.

    My parents said that I would find my niche in college, that kids would mature and see how special I really was. They tried to help me. But no matter how carefully I dressed like the cool girls, or tried to talk like them, watched the “right” TV shows and read the popular books and bought pop CDs and the cute accessories that they all wore, it never worked.

    I even tried to bribe those kids to be my friends, a memory which still, after all this time, leaves me feeling a mixture of anger and shame. Anger at them for their pointless cruelty, for making me cry at night in bed, shame at myself and my behavior. I was like a woman throwing herself at a man who has absolutely no interest in her even though she is in love with him.

    They rejected me, and I tagged along after them. I found out when their birthdays were and left little gift bags on their desk. My pitiful attempts at friendship only led to more rejection, more laughter.

    Later on, when the anger surpassed the shame I felt, I longed to scream at them. Some brilliant, caustic kiss-off, an aggressive statement that would leave them shocked and gaping. I wanted to hurt them the way they had hurt me so many times.

    So often I was embarrassed by the specter of my Cerebral Palsy, the spasms, the startled jerks and twitches, my ugly leg braces, and the way everything had to be done for me, like I was an infant.

    When I dropped a heavy textbook in the utterly silent classroom, it hit the ugly industrial linoleum with a thud that seemed to echo, and my body burned with shame. The teacher gave me a dirty look for daring to disrupt the class, and the students tittered, no doubt whispering about what a spaz, what a weird, clumsy thing I was.

    I hated myself for my blind devotion to the clique, and my desperate overtures of friendship.

    I hated myself for being a skinny, ugly little freak with big glasses and unruly curls and braces on both my teeth and my legs. I hated those girls for their careless, stinging words and their easy perfection.

    Whenever I have a bad day, when I feel fragile and insecure, when my manuscript has been rejected or I am having an “ugly” day where my skin is broken out and my hair won’t behave, it all comes back to me, and the memories make me cringe.

    I spend more time than I want to admit thinking about those years when I was the class geek, eternally uncool, a scapegoat for adolescent insecurity. I spent years trying to be someone else, and when the futility of that finally sunk in, I spent years trying to figure out who I was.

    I am no longer a victim. I have a certain measure of confidence in my choices and my work, and I have scraped a veneer of self-assurance from self-help books and years of therapy.

    I recently purchased a bumper sticker that says, “There Is No Alternative To Being Yourself.”

    When I consider my life, I do not regret my own hard-won authenticity. I regret the times I tried so hard to be what I’m not. 

    I think I simply got sick of struggling to fit into some mold that was entirely the wrong shape for me. It was so much less painful to do what felt right for me, to dress how I wanted, to say exactly what I felt even when nobody else agreed, and not worry about whether they did or not. It is incredibly liberating not to care.

    There is no magical, fast-acting cure-all for alleviating loneliness and developing confidence. And the truth is, I don’t really know how it happened. I read self-help books, I saw therapists, and I had an incredible support team of family and friends who loved me and helped me believe in myself.

    I know how painful it is, and the only thing I have to offer is my honesty, my truth. I hope that my story provides some comfort and solidarity to those who need it.

    Photo by Jenna-Carver

  • Signs: A Simple Short Film on Communication

    Signs: A Simple Short Film on Communication

    Signs is a simple short film about reaching out, connecting, and feeling less alone. We are never alone.

  • You Deserve Love, Including Your Own

    You Deserve Love, Including Your Own

    “The amount of happiness that you have depends on the amount of freedom you have in your heart.” ~Thich Nhat Hanh

    Several years ago, I was in an unhealthy and unhappy relationship. It didn’t start out that way, of course. During the first year that we were together, I was in heaven. I was blissfully happy and everything seemed perfect.

    My partner and I were so in love and happy just to be together; you couldn’t keep us apart.

    It was years later that the trouble started. It was when my husband reconnected with a woman from his past that our marriage started to fall apart. It is hard to say if things would have fallen apart in time anyway, but this other woman certainly contributed to bringing us unstuck.

    My husband told me that they had never been a couple, but that he used to be extremely attracted to this woman. She had recently moved to our city so he offered to help her out and get her familiar with the surroundings. I thought nothing of it at first because I thought I could trust my partner completely.

    Eventually though, I noticed that he was spending more time with her, and when I would ask him about it, he always made it seem like I was a bad person for being suspicious.

    I started reading messages on his phone when he was asleep because my gut instinct was telling me that something was not right.

    When I confronted him with the incriminating messages, he got very angry. He denied everything and berated me for having so little faith in him. All of this made me quite depressed, and eventually I became very bitter. We were fighting almost constantly over the smallest things.

    I was bitter with the world and, yes, I became bitter with myself. I did not like the person I had become.

    I was always stressed out, suspicious, and unhappy. I blamed myself for the status of our relationship. I started believing that I was the one at fault and that he was the injured party.

    After some time, his affair with the woman finally came to light and we broke up. Even after having confirmed that all my suspicions were correct and that I had done myself a favor by ending the relationship, I was still extremely unhappy. I still carried a lot of bitterness inside me.

    I could not understand why something so bad could happen to a good person like me. I was angry with my ex and was equally angry at the world. (more…)

  • How to Overcome Loneliness

    How to Overcome Loneliness

    “Man stands in his own shadow and wonders why it’s dark.” ~Zen Proverb

    After my ex-girlfriend and I broke up several years ago, I never felt more alone in my life. I hung up the phone with tears streaming down my face as I stepped into my new reality.

    I only had one friend in the world, who happened to live fairly far away, so most of my newfound singlehood was spent alone.

    It was difficult for the first few weeks due to all the painful emotions that usually come with a breakup, but after a while the pain went away.

    Usually I could keep a positive attitude and project the appearance was all okay, but truth be told, I was a very lonely person back then.

    Sometimes, a coworker or some acquaintance would ask if I was seeing anyone to make conversation. I told them that I was taking a break from dating for a while to heal from the breakup.

    However, I really had no idea how to meet people. After being in a relationship for seven years and losing touch with a lot of friends, my social skills were pretty much nonexistent. I wanted to meet people, make new friends, and date, but I really thought I was just incapable of doing it.

    At one point the loneliness just overwhelmed me. I was walking down a street one night. As I was passing by a busy restaurant, I looked in the window and saw so many people at quiet, intimate tables sharing smiles and conversations over candle light.

    Suddenly I just couldn’t take it any longer. My mind became flooded with all of these thoughts like “Why is it never me in there with someone else?” or “Why am I always alone? Is there something wrong with me?”

    Before I know it, I was crying right there, while walking down the street.

    It all just seemed so futile. What was the point of living if I didn’t have anyone to share my life with? (more…)

  • Better Together: We Are Not Alone

    Better Together: We Are Not Alone

    “Alone we can do so little; together we can do so much.” ~Helen Keller

    My patient, John Done, rolled in by ambulance from his home in rural Oregon. As his story unfolded I understood why the nurses and ER doctors in the room were slack-jawed and shaking their heads, and I understood why I had been called to see what the nurse called a “DIY’er.”

    I have been a surgeon for over ten years and had never been consulted for a case of do it yourself surgery. John had had a belly button hernia sticking out a couple of inches for many years. It started hurting a few days before I ended up seeing him.

    Somehow, John convinced himself that the hernia had turned in to an abscess, even though it had been there for, as I said, many years. The pain changed his mind about an obvious reality. Once he decided it was an abscess, it made sense to lance it.

    John was not fond of going to the doctor and usually took care of his own medical care.  He opened up his Korean War medic kit and found his sterile scalpel…

    When I got to John he had two stab wounds in his abdomen and was leaking intestinal contents onto the dressings. We took him to surgery, took out a segment of his bowel, and repaired his hernia.

    He did well and was very happy to be free of the hernia. He agreed to call me prior to embarking on another DIY operation.

    Although it seems unbelievable that lancing a hernia could happen, understanding the chain of events is instructive. (more…)