Tiny Buddha

Tag: patterns

  • How to Break the Cycle of Painful, Dramatic Relationships

    How to Break the Cycle of Painful, Dramatic Relationships

    “No matter how far we come, our parents are always in us.” ~Brad Meltzer

    Had you asked me five years ago, before my healing and personal growth journey began, if my upbringing and childhood wounds were shaping the choices I was making in relationships, I would have scoffed at you and said, “No way. Are you kidding?”

    Somehow, I had normalized the dysfunction I grew up in: the absentee father, the mother with mental illness, the lack of stability and safety, the enmeshment and codependency, the attachment wounds that left me spending a lifetime searching for someone or something to fill the void.

    Somehow, I had overlooked the fact that I had chosen a partner who reflected back to me what had been familiar in my past: the power struggles, the imbalances, the passiveness and emotional disconnection, the unhealthy conflict resolution, the gaslighting and volatility.

    This is not to say that my former partner was all bad, because he wasn’t. No one is. It’s just that together, we became toxic and dysfunctional, unintentionally recreating the patterns we had both witnessed growing up.

    We were so entangled in our patterns and unconscious behaviors that we didn’t see how it was all playing out. I wrote off our unhealthy relationship dynamics as “normal,” something all marriages experience, because I had not yet spent any time diving into my childhood wounds to know any better. I lacked the awareness of what a healthy partnership looked like, because I had never known a healthy relationship—not with my mom, not with my dad, nor in observation of anyone in my extended family.

    Dysfunction in my family (and my former partner’s family), appeared to be the norm. Therefore, I convinced myself that what I was experiencing was normal. Little did I know that I would eventually be the one to break the mold, to become the reasonable and sane one in a sea of insanity.

    This is how I woke up:

    1. The level of dissatisfaction and dysfunction in my marriage reached a breaking point that inadvertently led me to fall for another man.

    2. This started me down a long road of healing, introspection, psychological work, and therapy.

    3. Therapy taught me that my spouse was reflecting back to me the characteristics of both my mother and my father.

    4. My relationship patterns were brought to my conscious awareness.

    5. The knowledge of where my patterns and behaviors originated allowed me to make the changes needed to heal.

    I remember the precise moment the light bulb turned on. It was like the heavens parted and a bolt of lightning came crashing down from the sky, illuminating what had previously been hidden in the dark. I was walking out of my therapist’s office one afternoon when I stopped abruptly in the middle of the parking lot and said aloud to myself, “Oh my God, April! You have married your mother and fallen in love with your father. How in the hell did this happen?”

    During that session, she had pointed out, or rather helped me see, how my partner’s anger issues and harsh disciplinary measures resembled those I had seen in my mother, while his passivity and lack of accountability resembled traits of my father.

    Unbeknownst to me, I had entered that relationship with a sort of subconscious recognition of both of my parents, even though some of these traits didn’t present themselves until later in our relationship. This realization in itself was enough to get me to wake up to the reality I had been living in and decide it was time to end the marriage.

    The knowing is what helped me break the cycle. The knowing is what liberated me.

    Through the painful and bitter process of uncoupling, I was finally able to free myself from the unhealthy and dysfunctional patterns that relationship was mirroring from my childhood. In a strange way, I was grateful for the unhappiness and dysfunction that partnership had created, because it provided me with the stark contrast I needed to experience in order to know what a healthy relationship is NOT.

    Looking back, I couldn’t have seen it coming any sooner. I couldn’t have known what I didn’t know, even though I beat myself up for months after the divorce thinking it was all my fault. Even though my former partner tried to do the same… blaming, shaming, and avoiding any responsibility for his part in the toxicity and dysfunction. Skirting the fact that he was the other factor in the equation.

    Then, I realized, “You know what? No. It takes two to tango.” Both parties need to clean up their side of the street, unpack their childhoods, and take accountability for their own wounding. Relationships are never a one-way street.

    For anyone who has suffered through these types of unhealthy romantic relationships (the ones full of pain, drama, and conflict), please allow what I have learned to save you a little time and a little heartbreak. I’ll cut right to the chase.

    1. We are all longing.

    Deep down, we all have the desire to be loved intensely and wholeheartedly. We desire someone to help us feel seen and adored and to wrap us up in a soft, comfy blanket of protection. We long for the parents we never had, for the love we wished we had received, and for the chance to be loved just once in the most breathtaking, unimaginable way. Sometimes, we are lucky enough to experience this. And other times, we think we have found it, only later to realize that it was just a memento of the past coming to pay us a visit.

    2. We unconsciously choose partners who remind us of our parents, usually the opposite-sex parent.

    This does not have to be tied to gender, but rather whoever embodies the masculine/feminine energy in the relationship.

    As much as we’d like to say that things with our partner “just didn’t work out” or that the problem was all on them, we must learn to admit to ourselves how our upbringing impacts our romantic lives. More often than not, the partners we choose have some obvious, and some not-so-obvious, things in common with our parent of the opposite sex.

    For example, if your dad was a workaholic and was rarely present for you as a child, you may tend to (unknowingly) seek male partners who are also career-driven and perhaps distant or detached. If you are a male, and you grew up with a mother who was meek and submissive and rarely stood up for herself, you may find yourself with female partners who are the same.

    3. We unconsciously seek partners who we think will give us what our parents could not.

    On another level, it can be that we are subconsciously trying to recreate scenarios from our childhood that didn’t meet our needs. We are attracted to people who show us what it could feel like to have the parent we wished we’d had.

    For example, we may seek a partner who is kind and nurturing, because we didn’t receive nurturing as a child. Or we might be enamored by a partner who makes us feel safe and protected, because we didn’t feel safe and protected as a child.

    If you go back to your childhood and think about what you were lacking, and then look closely at your last few relationships, or even situationships, you may come to discover that the person you were dating possessed certain qualities that filled a gap inside. What attracted you to them is that they filled a hole in your heart that was left by one of your parents.

    Keep in mind these dynamics usually play out on a subconscious level. You are often not consciously aware of your choices, because you have not yet done the work to reveal what it is that is driving your behavior and causing you to make these relationship choices.

    This is why it is so crucial to get to know yourself and to dive deep into your past, your wounding, and your patterns and behaviors. Until the underlying nuances are brought into your awareness, you will continue to repeat the same patterns, choosing similar kinds of partners who show up wearing different suits.

    If we truly want to free ourselves from the relationship patterns that we inherited from our caregivers, we must begin by focusing our attention inward. Rather than seeking love outside of ourselves, or looking to another to repair our wounds or mend our broken hearts, we must give ourselves the love we seek. This means healing our childhood wounds and traumas, re-parenting ourselves and our inner child, and cultivating a deeply compassionate self-concept.

    Some of the reparenting methods that helped me the most include:

    • Inner child healing and reprogramming exercises
    • Eye movement desensitization and reprocessing (EMDR)
    • Brainspotting
    • Journaling
    • Visualization

    Be patient with yourself during this process of healing, uncovering, and repairing. It can be difficult to come to new realizations about your past and some of the ways that you didn’t get what you needed as a child. It can stir up feelings of sadness, anger, or grief, so you must hold yourself gently and do the inner work as you feel ready and as you have the necessary support to guide you through it.

    Realizing that we made poor choices in relationships can cause enough shame. We need not strengthen the blow by beating up on ourselves further for something that we were not aware of at the time. However, being in a healthy relationship means that we are willing to own our side of the street, take accountability for our choices, and make the necessary changes to show up better the next time. As the saying goes, “Once you know better, do better.”

    Our parents did the best they could with the tools and awareness they had at the time, as did we. But now, it is time to pave a new path. You get to be the one to rewrite the script. You get to be the person in your family who, despite being surrounded with dysfunction and unhealthy relationship models, breaks the cycle for good. You get to prove to yourself, and to your future children someday, that just as dysfunction can be passed down through your lineage, so can healing.

    You… yes, you.

    Whoever gets to hold your heart will be infinitely blessed because of your courage. Love you. ♥

  • The Major Aha Moment That Helped Me Stop Fixating on Fixing Myself

    The Major Aha Moment That Helped Me Stop Fixating on Fixing Myself

    “The real difficulty is to overcome how you think about yourself.” ~Maya Angelou

    My newest friend ended our three-month-long friendship on a July day when I’d just returned from a dreadful summer vacation. Her Dear Jane email read, “It’s not you, it’s me.” The lever had been pulled, I was dumped, and I thought, “Ha!” I’d spent the last three months trying to help her fix her problems. I knew she had more problems than me.

    But then an anxious, obsessive thought loop began. What did it really mean? How could it not be about me?

    This wasn’t the first time I’d lost a friend, so of course, I needed to diagnose, dissect, and determine the origin of this unhappy pattern. My anxieties were ramping up, and I needed to fix something before this reoccurred. So I made an appointment with a therapist named Dr. Mary.

    After an hour’s drive through big city traffic, I arrived late and shaken to that first therapy session.

    Within fifteen minutes, Dr. Mary helped me recognize the parallel between my friendships and my relationship with my mother and and pointed out I didn’t have to parent my mom, a lifelong project due to her unsteady mental health. I was disappointed but relieved to find I wasn’t there to fix my mom’s narcissistic behavior. I was there just to fix myself. I paid her the ninety-five out-of-pocket dollars I owed and left feeling slightly better.

    Two weeks later, I drove that same hour for my second therapy session. I was not prepared for what I would take away this time.

    When I brought up my mother again, Dr. Mary asked me why I needed to change my mother. Couldn’t I allow her to just be?

    I was confused. Weren’t my mother issues the cause of everything? “If it’s not one thing, it’s your mother,” my friends and I always joked. And why wouldn’t my mom want to gain from my knowledge, love, and insight?

    Dr. Mary fed this next concept to me slowly. “Maybe you need to fix people so you can feel powerful, and then no one will be paying attention to your flaws. Maybe you want to distract others from seeing how unlovable you think you are.”

    This concept slowly hummed in my head until tears seeped from my face.

    Eventually I found tissues near my couch spot. And then our time was up.

    “Do you have any books you can suggest reading on raising self-esteem?” I asked as I paid her, needing something more to help process this information. “No,” she said, and then she opened the door and let a different version of me out into the world than the me who’d entered.

    As I drove to meet my friend for a lunch date, my mind screamed, “I’m freaking forty-five years old, and I have low self-esteem!!??” Over our Cuban pork sandwiches with mojo sauce, my friend Terry said, “Who doesn’t have low self-esteem?”

    Apparently, my discovery of my buried dysfunction was the new trendy life hiccup I was now living. When had low self-esteem become the in thing?

    My head was filled with angry bees as I journeyed the hour-plus back home. I didn’t feel good enough to be my kid’s parent that night. I fumed over Dr. Mary’s edict about my sentence of low self-esteem and not okay-ness.

    I had worked hard all my adult life on my self-awareness and self-love with therapy, self-help books, and humility! How dare she rob me of my self-definition and my purpose of showing others how to be okay. Who was I supposed to be now?

    A week and many journal pages later, I wanted to be done marinating in my indignation, so I crossed the grassy field to the library, intending to check out any and all books on self-esteem. When I explained what had happened, the librarians agreed that it’s hard to fill your self-esteem cup up if you don’t know what that cup or its contents looks like. Wise souls those women.

    At home, I read and thought and sat with my low self-esteem verdict. And then unexpectedly, I began to feel a new peacefulness. My anxiety was diminishing. Dissipating. Disappearing.

    If I was off the hook to fix the faults I saw in others, I would no longer have to fix the faults I saw in myself. My low self-esteem and anxieties were allowed. I could be just where I was until I was somewhere else. I was in a new place where I was okay with me, you could just be you, and where judgments no longer served a purpose. By naming the inner beast, I had somehow released it too.

    I am still attracted to people who self-admittedly need a little life tune-up, but I don’t obsess over “their” recipe for success or what “they” could do to be fixed. I make every day count toward my own healing.

    Eventually, with the help of medication, my anxiety felt like a phantom limb, a memory of a part of me that was no longer there, though I also need an occasional therapy tune-up.

    All I had to do was admit and own who and where I was to stop fixating on the fixing. If I saw her today, I’d thank Dr. Mary for the gift of my freedom. And I’d mention a couple of very good books on self-esteem I’d read.

  • Healing from Abandonment Trauma: 3 Things I Learned from Being Cheated On

    Healing from Abandonment Trauma: 3 Things I Learned from Being Cheated On

    “The wound is the place where the light enters you.” ~Rumi

    I want to share an experience I went through that hurt like hell, but that helped me so much in the long run.

    The experience was being “cheated on,” though the woman wasn’t my girlfriend. Nevertheless, I was very attached and it felt awful.

    So, let me start with the backstory.

    I met Diana through mutual friends in late 2021. I thought she was cute, and a little anxious, which I seem to gravitate toward. That’s just my savior complex coming out, which is another story for another day.

    Eventually we hooked up after a holiday party and continued hooking up regularly. I began to have stronger feelings for Diana than I anticipated, though I tried to play it cool and not cause any awkwardness in the group.

    Things started deteriorating between us at one point, and it culminated in Diana going home with another guy basically in front of me.

    Needless to say, I was devastated.

    My friend who introduced me to Diana was there, and he asked me, “Are you catching feelings?” I was so angry that he would try to shame me into not feeling what I was feeling. I said, “Yes, I am” and left immediately.

    On the way home, I was screaming in my car, and I even punched my steering wheel, which I had never done before. I was so triggered and mad. There was a tornado of emotion ripping through my chest—anger, grief, worthlessness, desperation.

    The next day, I woke up and left the house to get a smoothie. I didn’t want to be by myself as I was going through this.

    Initially I didn’t feel so bad, but I knew that the wave was going to hit me sooner or later. I started rereading books on relationships that I had read before. Books like Fear of Intimacy by Robert Firestone and Facing Love Addiction by Pia Mellody. Luckily, I had these books to turn to for guidance.

    Over the next two weeks I cried multiple times on my way to work, or on the way home from running errands. I even pulled over a few times to bawl my eyes out and wail alone in my car before continuing.

    Over the next couple of months, I worked on processing the grief and pain. Occasionally I would dive deep and get a memory of childhood abandonment, the real source of the pain. I’d get a memory of my mom not being there for me…

    While I was growing up, my mom worked all the time to support our family. And we had such a big family that one-on-one time was basically nonexistent.

    That meant there were countless times when I felt lost, abandoned, and overlooked.

    Being deeply hurt by Diana gave me the opportunity to go right to the source of the pain, my original abandonment experiences. Daily meditation and journaling helped whittle away the pain.

    It was slow progress for a while. I even stopped writing for a few weeks because I was overwhelmed with emotion. But eventually I began to feel like myself again.

    The first two months were rough, the next two were a little better, and after six months I was finally out of the weeds. But more than that, I feel better than I did before I met Diana.

    I feel as if my baseline level of security and happiness is higher. The way I think about it is that my abandonment experiences were heavy boulders weighing down my soul. Not carrying them around feels so much lighter.

    I must have spent over 100 hours meditating to let go of these emotions, and I’ve learned a few things in the process…

    1. Present pain is compounded by pain from the past. If you want to be free, heal the original wound.

    2. We seek what is familiar in relationships, even at the expense of our safety and happiness. And what is familiar is the love we received from our parents. If we want to have better relationships, we need to heal our past or we will repeat what we know endlessly.

    3. We get what we need to heal in relationships. And I think that’s beautiful. While things might suck in the short-term, you’ll come to know that life has your best interests at heart. Now that this episode is over, I’m glad life gave me the experience I needed to heal.

    Now it’s time for a counterintuitive move that helped me close this chapter in my life.

    I used to think “being left by Diana like that hurt so bad and I wouldn’t want to experience it again, but I am glad that I was able to learn and grow from it.”

    But that thought reveals that there is more work for me. To get closure from this experience, I had to open myself up to going through it again (but trusting life to not be so cruel).

    It’s not what you would think would help, but when you run from an experience you are still controlled by it.

    And if your goal is genuine freedom, you need to open yourself up to it. Of course, I will still be cautious going forward, just not fearful.

    Once I opened myself up to experiencing that same pain and hurt, I became freer. I took off the armor I was wearing, and I know that life can be trusted to have my back.

    I’d rather live with an open heart and get hurt than live closed off. That’s the way of freedom.

    “You have to keep breaking your heart until it opens.” ~Rumi

  • How I Stopped Chasing Men Who Hurt Me and Found Healthy Love

    How I Stopped Chasing Men Who Hurt Me and Found Healthy Love

    “There are two things you should never waste your time on: things that don’t matter and people who think that you don’t matter.” ~Ziad K. Abdelnour  

    “What is wrong with me?” I asked myself. Crying in the dark of the night. “Why doesn’t he love me?”

    I’d tried to fold myself in all the ways I could to be loved and accepted, but it was never enough. I found myself repeating patterns of chasing men who just didn’t want me. Same cry in the night, different men.

    The more I chased them, the more they ran away, and the deeper I lost my self-worth. 

    I was addicted to them. They were my drug. These men who were wounded and just needed a loving, caring woman to come save them. I wanted to be the answer to their pain so then finally, a man would choose me. Finally, I would get the love I had longed for and chased my whole life.

    I always chased men that were unavailable in some way. They may have been addicts, in other relationships, or just not ready for a relationship. The more they didn’t want the relationship, the harder I would chase.

    I would be up late in the night, full of anxiety, obsessing about them. So preoccupied with trying to make them love me that I forgot to take care of myself.

    I had no boundaries and would accept any kind of awful behavior. It would break my heart and I may pull back for a moment, but then they would notice and come toward me, so the pull-push cycle would begin again.

    I lacked self-love and self-worth, and this pattern was destroying what little I had. I felt like nothing and like there was something fundamentally wrong with me.

    My happiness, my everything, was tied up in receiving validation from these unavailable men. The older I got, the worse it got, and the more obvious it was that something was not right. My friends were getting married, having children, and moving forward. But I was stuck ruminating about my latest obsession.

    I even drove my friends mad! No matter what they said to me, it wouldn’t stop me chasing a fantasy. When they stopped listening, I rang a psychic line multiple times a day for validation that the man I wanted was ‘the one.’ So not only did my self-worth disappear but my bank balance with it.

    It was exhausting and brought me to my knees in my mid-thirties.

    Then I noticed something. If someone was interested in me, available, and wanted to move forward, I would feel suffocated and tell myself there was no chemistry. But if someone showed some interest but was not available, I would want them more than anything.

    I felt like there was something really wrong with me because of this pattern, but I was determined to change, so I could have healthy, loving romantic relationships.

    I read You Can Heal Your Life, by Louise Hay, and decided to change my beliefs.

    Here are the five things I did to heal so I could open up to a healthier relationship:

    1. I adopted a daily self-care practice.

    It became painfully obvious to me that I knew how to love others but not myself. So I began with adding some practices to my day to help me build self-love.

    I listened to affirmations on Spotify and read them to myself looking in the mirror. I tried meditation and hot baths to begin my journey. I was always researching new ways to show myself love. In addition to developing a self-care practice, I invested in support to help me get better, including therapy.

    2. I began doing inner child work.

    I went back to my earlier story through meditation and discovered that younger-me was always chasing after my dad’s unavailable love. Trying to help him, to be seen. Trying to fix him so he would tell me I was enough. Seeking his validation, his connection, because he was unavailable due to his own childhood trauma. My inner child had internalized this to means I was unlovable.

    I began to say affirmations to a photo of my younger self. “You are loveable,” “You are enough,” “You are worthy.” I would literally talk to her and ask her how she felt and what she needed. I would imagine playing with her and showing her love.

    I explored my inner child’s story and learned lots about attachment theory. I realized that I had disorganized attachment from my father’s inconsistency, and that this was not my fault but just part of my old programming. The great news was I could change this! A book that helped me was Healing Your Attachment Wounds, by Diane Poole Heller.

    When I recognized why I sought love from men who couldn’t give it to me, that ache for unavailable love lessened.

    3. I set clear intentions.

    I grew up on my dad’s little crumbs of love. It made me feel starved for love and attention, so later in life, I would accept them from any man who showed me interest. Even if they weren’t the right fit for me. I had no idea what that was!

    When I realized this, I compiled a list of what I didn’t want. I tuned into what brought me pain and unhappiness growing up. Things that made me feel unsafe. These became my red flags. For example, emotional unavailability, anger, shouting, gaslighting, denying my reality, and addiction were a few items from my list.

    I became conscious about what I didn’t want so I wouldn’t blindly go into a relationship that made me feel unsafe again.

    I also compiled a list of things I did want—must-haves like kindness and safety.

    4. I ended contact with unavailable men.

    This was a hard one and felt very uncomfortable. I took a step back from my ‘drug.’ I even unfollowed people on social media to allow myself space to heal. Sometimes I would have a bad day and make contact, but slowly my addiction lessened.

    To support myself through this process, I read books, listened to podcasts, and even trained for a marathon to give me another focus. Books like Father Therapy, by Doreen Virtue, and Facing Love Addiction, by Pia Mellody, helped me to understand my pattern. I also found communities where I could share my story and not be judged.

    I learned how to stop numbing the pain from my past with these unhealthy relationships by learning how to soothe myself and let my wounds heal.

    5. I dated myself.

    I stepped back from dating and focused solely on learning to love and date myself. To start, I took myself on a trip for three days in Italy. I took my books, went on tours on my own, and journaled about my story. I  regularly spent time with myself and even found new hobbies. Before, I had been so obsessed with these men that pleasing them was my hobby.

    I found ways to enjoy my own time and have fun! To feel whole and enough on my own. I took myself to restaurants and treated myself to gifts. I became the person I always wanted. Validating, attentive, kind, and fun!

    Sure enough, in time, I found an emotionally available man who chose me and was everything I wrote on my intention list. He had no red flags, unlike any of my previous partners. He makes me feel safe every day, and most importantly, he gives me space to continue the most important relationship in my life. The one with me.

    If you can relate to this pattern of choosing emotionally unavailable partners, just notice the behavior. It is not you. It is just a behavior you are doing to keep safe. Thank this part and know that it is possible to change and find your healthy love.

  • No One Was Coming to Save Me: The Insignificance I Felt as a Kid

    No One Was Coming to Save Me: The Insignificance I Felt as a Kid

    “Never make the mistake of thinking you are alone—or inconsequential.” ~ Rebecca McKinsey

    I can still remember it as vividly as if it happened yesterday.

    Our kitchen was small. Only enough room for a few people, and there were four of us kids scrounging to get our hands on the rest of the leftovers. It wasn’t a fight, but I can say with certainty that there was an underlying assumption that whoever got their hands on it first was able to claim it, so there was competition.

    I grabbed my spoon first and then went to the fridge to get my food when my dad grabbed the spoon out of hand.

    “Dad! Give it back!” I said in my most rude teenage voice.

    Not a second passed and his hand met my cheek with a blow that knocked me to the floor. There must have been a loud noise as I flopped to the floor, hitting the dishwasher, because my mom, who was doing laundry, came running inside to see what was going on.

    I lay there helpless on the floor, not struggling but also not fighting.

    I looked up at my mom, who looked back at me, then at my dad. She gave a sigh of disapproval, turned the corner, and walked away.

    Still on the floor, I looked up at my brother who was eating at the bar that faced where I was lying. He looked at me chewing his food, continued to eat, and said nothing.

    This was the first time I remember feeling alone. It was a reminder that hit me like a ton of bricks that nobody was coming to save me… nobody. 

    Of course, this reality check didn’t come without consequences. It most certainly left a hole in my heart and closed off parts of me that later became nearly impossible to break. But I survived. I just learned to survive without the parts of me that were open to love and compassion.

    While the trauma of getting hit by a parent has repercussions, I believe it was the ignoring of suffering that had more catastrophic consequences for me.

    Having both parents fail me at the same moment and then looking up to see my brother carrying on with his life as if nothing was out of the ordinary was complete devastation for me.

    In that moment, it was a reminder of my worth, and it was a reminder of my insignificance within my family. 

    And that became my voice for a large part of my life.

    It’s funny, though, because I never remember feeling alone as a kid, and it’s probably just because I never understood what that even looked like. It took years of trying hard to sit with my feelings to understand that what I was feeling was insignificance. Years.

    Not having the vocabulary around my feelings made normalizing them so difficult. Now I can look at what I was feeling with confidence and not give it more weight than it deserves. I can label it, feel it, look at it objectively, and move on without taking it personally.

    Today I realize that feeling lonely, unseen, and insignificant was simply a product of emotionally immature parents, not a reflection of who I was. But as a kid, I internalized it as a problem with myself because I couldn’t properly label it and assign meaning to it. Instead, I made what I was feeling a part of my character, and thus I subconsciously became a magnet for all the things that would validate that “character flaw” in myself.

    I dated people who treated me like crap and sought out mean guys. I had friends who were hurtful. And all the while I felt like I had a problem that made me unlovable.

    And I’m not gonna lie, I’m a lot of “too-much-ness” for a lot of people, but emotionally mature people cannot just handle me, they can love me too. Because while I am a lot, I’m also full of a lot of love too.

    I tell this story because I realized that naming our feelings is foundational to learning to communicate without projecting blame onto others. This isn’t just true for children going through a difficult time. This is true for many of us adults who just never learned the vocabulary around what certain feelings even look like.

    When we own our feelings, we’re less likely to blame other people for causing them because we understand where they originated and know it’s our responsibility to work through them.

    My feelings of insignificance will probably never go away when it comes to my relationship with my family. Mother’s Day was difficult for me this year because it brought back those same feelings of loneliness (and a bit of sadness), but they no longer hold the same weight. I now can see my feelings at face value without judging myself and my character as a result.

    Instead, I know that…

    I am not insignificant, and I am worthy of love. And that is why I have created a life full of love and meaning in my own family.

    My “too-much-ness” is only “too much” for those that don’t have the ability to see the beauty in me. And that is why I surround myself with only those who see me through a lens of love.

    There is value in learning what our feelings are, defining them, recognizing what they look like, and realizing how they can run us ragged if left unchecked. If you do one thing this year, learn about your feelings so they no longer can control you.

  • The Truth About Mr. S.: The Sexual Predator from My High School Band

    The Truth About Mr. S.: The Sexual Predator from My High School Band

    TRIGGER WARNING: This post deals with accounts of sexual harassment and assault and may be triggering to some people.

    “There can be a deep loneliness that comes from not having a family that has your back. I hope you can find supportive people who show up for you.” ~Laura Mohai

    I feel and have felt extreme sadness, anger, isolation, and fear over several sexual harassments and assaults in my life.

    The first time I was sexually assaulted I was seven. I was at a friend’s birthday pool party. My friend’s dad put his hand down my swimsuit and grabbed my undeveloped chest, then said that once “these” grow, I’d be irresistible and a hot f*ck. I was seven.

    After that, my stepfather bought the first pair of “sexy” underwear I ever had, when I was ten, and made me model them for him, among other things.

    From these early formative experiences, I wanted to hide from the world.

    My mom was cruel and never protected me. She knew my stepdad would leer after me and that I hid in my closet. She just sneered and told me that I wasn’t special or that pretty. As a result, I learned from a young age that I didn’t matter, that I wasn’t going to be protected, and that I wasn’t special. This backward thinking allowed me to be prey to other men, one of whom was a teacher.

    I was sexually harassed and assaulted numerous times by a “valued” community member. Mr. S was my band director during my junior and senior years of high school. His behavior with me during my years as a student was completely inappropriate. He should be in jail. Yes, jail. I am certain I am not the only female who experienced his advances.

    Mr. S, as the students called him, preyed on the fact that I was very naïve and beaten down, came from a single-parent household, didn’t have much of a relationship with my father, and wanted to be a professional musician.

    My senior year of high school, I had early release but didn’t have a car. My mom worked, so I often had to stay very late after school to wait to be picked up. I would go to the band hall to practice during early release. Every single day, Mr. S would hide my clarinet somewhere so I’d have to come and ask him where it was. It was his way of making sure he got to see me, to control and harass me.

    He would leave lengthy typed “love” letters and lifesavers in my case every day. I was appalled. I told him to please stop. I never reciprocated and did not want this kind of attention. I just wanted to practice my clarinet, and he knew this, but preferred to toy with me.

    Before he would “allow” me to take my clarinet from him and go practice, he would make me sit with him in his office. He would pull his chair up to me and sniff my hair, telling me to never change my use of Finesse shampoo, as he associated me with that “lovely” smell.

    He would ask me if I read his love letters, and then he’d pester me as to why I never replied or reciprocated. I was very shy and didn’t say anything. I was scared. I felt ashamed, though I didn’t do anything wrong. I was embarrassed and knew many kids noticed that he gave me “special” attention, and I hated it.

    He controlled when I could leave his office. He knew I had no transportation of my own, so if I tried to leave to go to a practice room or to the library, he would tell me that I couldn’t because I still had lots of time to be with him.

    He would sometimes help me with my music, as it appeared that I was just in his office for that purpose. It wasn’t. He was obsessed with me. I am now closing in on middle age, and until last night, I had never told anyone that he used to come to my Spanish class and pull me out to take me places. How this was allowed, I will never know.

    Mr. S would tell my Spanish teacher that I had Drum Major duties, and that it was urgent, and then she would allow him to whisk me away. I hated it.

    He would often take me to Lake Lewisville, where he and his wife owned a sailboat. He would make me get in the boat, and then he would tell me how he wanted to sail the world with me. Again, I was silent. I was afraid.

    He would force me to sit leg-to-leg with him and would kiss my cheek, putting his arm around me. I would sit there like a statue, then I would try to pull away, but he would forcefully pull me back and tell me that it was mean to deny his advances and affection.

    Typing this now makes me want to vomit. It’s repugnant. The woman I have grown to be would never allow this behavior. However, I was sixteen and had no guidance and not much self-esteem.

    Looking back, I cannot understand how a man who had a wife and three daughters could be so disgusting, cross so many boundaries, and be so creepy.

    The time he crossed the line in the most extreme way was when he pulled me to him, held me next to his body, and forced a mouth-to-mouth kiss on me, while pressing his hard-on into my stomach, in San Antonio at All State. I was terrified, and pulled myself away from him, ran back to the hotel, and cried the entire night.

    I wanted someone to rescue me from his nastiness. “Can’t everyone tell he’s a creep and I’m miserable?” I would think to myself.

    You are probably thinking, “Why didn’t you tell someone?” I was afraid. He brainwashed me into thinking that if I told anyone, he wouldn’t write any recommendation letters for me and no one would believe me (I know this is not true now). And he would remind me that I didn’t want to stress out my mom, who already worked a lot. He guilt-tripped me and shamed me.

    It wasn’t until college that I eventually told someone, a childhood friend who attended the same school I went to. I showed him the letters Mr. S had written and told him about it. My friend was livid and then threw all the letters away. (I now wish I had kept the disgusting letters so that I could have them published.)

    Mr. S would call me at college and tell me he missed me. I told him to never call me again, but he continued until I stopped picking up the phone.

    Mr. S was a child predator who never should have taught children. He tried to Facebook friend me several years ago. I immediately shut that down. The gall, the nerve. No shame, no conscience. I am tired of being silent. I will not spare his peace to keep this quiet any longer. I can only imagine how many other teenagers and young girls were forced to be at the mercy of his sickness. I will be silent no more.

    The above abuses and others caused my judgment to be clouded and for me to take routes that weren’t always best for me. For example, I turned down a full scholarship from Baylor University to attend Eastman because I was terrified of my stepfather and Mr. S. I wanted to get as far away as possible from them. I jeopardized my financial future by taking out loans to pay for flights and college in order to escape Texas.

    I have beat myself up too many times over some of my poor decisions and my methods of survival. I won’t continue to vilify myself for finding ways, good or bad, to try to be and feel safe. I did the best I could, and I can now see that I am proud of myself for surviving. As a child and as a young adult, I should have been protected, cherished, loved, and guided, but I received none of those necessities.

    To those who have experienced abuse, who were not protected, who were not valued or cherished, you should have been. You matter. Find your truth. Abusers gaslight to disorient you. You are smart, you are brave, and you can proceed with life.

    I give myself kindness and love now. You deserve that too. You should have had those things before, but now you must give them to yourself. Be your own biggest cheerleader and know you are not alone.

  • 10 Signs You’re in a Toxic, Unhealthy Relationship and How to Help Yourself

    10 Signs You’re in a Toxic, Unhealthy Relationship and How to Help Yourself

    “Love is never any better than the lover. Wicked people love wickedly, violent people love violently, weak people love weakly…the lover alone possesses his gift of love.” ~Toni Morrison

    Not all relationships are created equal. Some rage in like a storm and leave you far weaker than you were before. As you try to process the wreck that is now your reality, you wonder, how did I end up here?

    I found myself in a toxic and addicting relationship in my mid-late twenties. Now that some time has passed and allowed for reflection, I want to pass on some signs from my previous relationship that I should have paid more attention to, in hopes that this may help others who are in a similar situation.

    Signs a Relationship Has Become Unhealthy and Toxic

    1. You are putting in most of the effort, and your needs aren’t being met.

    Emotionally, I felt drained and exhausted. This frequently happened when I tried to communicate my wants and needs to my former partner. Most of the time, it felt like my efforts were in vain.

    2. You constantly feel like you are walking on eggshells.

    I never knew when I would say something that would be too much for my former partner to talk about and he would shut down emotionally. It made me nervous to bring up my concerns about the relationship, as I felt like he had a wall built around him that I just couldn’t knock down.

    3. You hang on because you think that’s what you are supposed to do when you love somebody.

    Blame it on Disney, romantic comedies, or countless love songs, but how many of us stay in unhealthy relationships because we feel like we owe it to that person to be there for them? But what do we owe ourselves?

    Looking back on my past relationship, I stayed in it for far too long because I thought that’s what you do when you love somebody. You stick with them when they are hurting. But what if it’s one-sided and it’s hurting you most of the time? Is that really love, or is it an unhealthy attachment to that person?

    4. You get addicted to the highs of the relationship.

    When things are bad, they are bad. But when they are good, you forget about the bad. The on-and-off-again pattern makes it passionate and addicting, almost like a game. It also makes it incredibly unstable. I felt like I was taking one step forward and two steps backward, constantly preparing for the next big crash.

    5. You are always giving in the relationship.

    I gave most of my time and energy to my previous relationship because I didn’t think I deserved to be on the receiving end of love. Now I know how wrong I was.

    6. You’re trying to solve problems that aren’t yours to solve.

    I tried too hard to solve my ex’s problems and didn’t focus on myself. I was overwhelmed by huge life transitions like moving and starting a new career, so it seemed easier to try to help him even though he didn’t ask me for help.

    This also allowed me to avoid admitting our relationship was deteriorating. It hurt too much to accept that our relationship was over and that I’d given 100% to someone who no longer cared about my feelings or well-being. After all, to admit is to acknowledge, and who wants to become aware that their relationship has become incredibly unhealthy?

    7. You get stonewalled.

    When I would be vulnerable and try to communicate how I felt, my former partner would go silent on me for long periods of time. This was pure mental torture. It was one of the most excruciating things I had ever experienced emotionally.

    Stonewalling was also incredibly confusing and traumatic. I would feel ignored, helpless, abandoned, and disrespected. This in turn would make me want to try to communicate more. Eventually we would start to talk again, and we got into an unhealthy cycle of me becoming anxious and him being avoidant.

    8. You lose a sense of who you are.

    At the end of the relationship, I felt broken and like a doormat that got stomped on incessantly. The person that I’d been before our relationship was no more, and all I was left with was a deep sense of shame for losing myself.

    I felt like I had fallen like Humpty Dumpty. No matter how much I tried, I couldn’t put all my pieces back together.

    It was hard to admit that I’d enabled my ex to treat me disrespectfully over and over again. I’d worried so much about him that I stopped focusing on myself and became entwined in trying to save a relationship that had fallen apart long ago. I didn’t want to accept that after all the years we were together this was the way that it would end.

    9. You feel like you are in limbo and things are out of your control.

    When my ex stonewalled me, I felt like I was waiting on someone else for my future to start. Everything got placed on pause. I gave him all of the power in the relationship, and I felt like I was waiting for answers that I’d likely never receive.

    10. You feel disrespected.

    My former partner stopped caring about my feelings the moment the stonewalling started. I felt so hurt, shocked, and betrayed. I think part of me stayed in the relationship so long because I couldn’t admit that this person who cared about me in the beginning had stopped showing concern for me and treated me without any kind of dignity.

    That loss of love, communication, and affection was really hard to face. His apathy and lack of compassion made me feel like I was a piece of garbage that he threw out. I felt invisible, degraded, and unheard.

    To get a clearer sense of how an unhealthy relationship is impacting you, ask yourself these questions: 

    • Why am I staying in this relationship? Am I staying because I am scared to be alone and deal with my own problems?
    • How much of the time do I initiate communicating? Am I the one putting in all the effort in the relationship?
    • Am I enabling the toxicity in the relationship by continuing to allow this person to treat me in a disrespectful way? Are there boundaries in the relationship for disrespectful and inappropriate behavior?
    • Am I trying to save my partner? Am I constantly worrying more about them than myself?
    • Why do I want to fix things in the relationship so badly? Do I feel like a failure for having the relationship end?
    • Am I trying to control something that has run its course? Do we both want different things?
    • Am I co-dependent? Am I staying in a one-sided relationship to help care for this person even when my needs are not being met?
    • Am I living the life I want to live? Does this relationship make me feel loved and fulfilled?

    Ending and walking away from a relationship that is unhealthy and toxic may be one of the hardest things that you ever do. Know that you are not alone and that you are worthy of being in a loving and healthy relationship. You deserve a relationship full of mutual respect, love, and healthy boundaries.

    Some activities and resources that have helped me on my journey to self-empowerment and growth have been:

    1. Express yourself; find your voice.

    Holding in all of the hurt from a toxic relationship isn’t going to make it go away. Talk openly to trusted loved ones or friends about what you’ve experienced. It may surprise you to hear that others have similar stories. Talking to a counselor, who can give you tools, strategies, and resources to help you navigate this difficult time, may also be helpful.

    Write in a journal or compose a mock letter to the person who hurt you, or to your past or future self. I wrote a letter to myself ten years into the future in hopes of where I wanted my life to be and found it to be inspiring and motivating.

    2. Educate yourself on codependency.

    I was familiar with the term codependency, but I didn’t truly understand what it was until I heard a podcaster mention the book Codependent No More by Melody Beattie. This book put words to everything that I felt during this turbulent relationship.

    It made me realize that I put all of my energy into a relationship that wasn’t mutual or healthy and lost myself on that journey. The book helped reinforce the notion that we only have control over our actions and not others. It motivated me to always be the driver of my life.

    3. Spend time alone.

    After things ended, I didn’t realize how addicted to the relationship I was and how challenging it would be to not reach out to my ex. It felt like I was going through withdrawal. It was intense and frustrating because, rationally, I knew it was for the best, but when I stopped contact, it was a visceral experience.

    I forgot how important it was to be alone, which is also the hardest and scariest thing. The healing truly began when I was able to sit with myself and all of my thoughts. Meditating and participating in yin yoga helped me recenter and decrease my anxiety while also decreasing built-up stress and tension in my body.

    4. Take responsibility for your part.

    I wasn’t just a victim in the relationship; I was also an enabler. I stayed in something that became incredibly unhealthy and allowed my ex to treat me in an inconsiderate and unkind way. I enabled this pattern to continue, which was the hardest thing to admit to myself.

    5. Be gentle with yourself.

    We are all human and are learning. Be patient and kind with yourself.

    When this relationship was finally over, I wanted to rush through all of my grief and uncertainty in order to move on because it hurt too much. It was too real.

    I knew deep down that this would take time to heal, and I wanted to fast-forward through that phase. Give yourself time and grace. Some days will be worse than others. Just know that eventually you will have many more good days than bad days.

    6. Forgive yourself.

    Initially, I wanted to forgive my ex and felt an urgency to do so because I thought it would stop the pain. However, the person that I was most upset with was myself. How did it take me so long to realize this relationship was unhealthy? Why did I allow someone to treat me so poorly emotionally?

    The person that I really needed to forgive was myself for allowing someone to walk all over my feelings for such a long amount of time. Once that process starts, everything gets easier. You may never get closure from your former partner after things end, but you can find it on your own.

    7. Use this experience as a lesson.

    Every relationship is a lesson. Even if it was a difficult time, learn what worked and what didn’t work. What you want and don’t want. Decide what are acceptable and unacceptable boundaries in a relationship so that the cycle doesn’t get repeated in the future.

    8. Take control of your life and be the author of your own story.

    Don’t wait for someone to change to start living your life. Hit the play button and start focusing on your goals and dreams and where you want to be in the future. You may not be able to put all of your broken pieces together in the same way they were before the relationship, but take time to figure out what person you want to become and rebuild yourself.

    9. Love and believe in yourself.

    Take good care of yourself because if you don’t, nobody will. Have high standards for what you deserve in a relationship and don’t accept less. Practice positive affirmations about your worth. How you perceive yourself will impact how others perceive you.

    —

    We might not have control over others’ actions, but we do have control over our own. It’s time to empower ourselves to live the life we want to live.

    If we take time to truly understand why a relationship was unhealthy and toxic, we can vow to break the pattern and not allow it to happen again. We can love in a secure and healthy way and in turn attract partners who do the same. After all, we deserve to be in a healthy, fulfilling, and happy relationship, with ourselves and with others.

  • How Our Self-Talk and Language Can Sabotage or Support Us

    How Our Self-Talk and Language Can Sabotage or Support Us

    “Today I want you to think about all that you are instead of all that you are not.” ~Unknown

    “Love the pinecones!”

    This was a comment from a friend on one of my Facebook photos from a beautiful seaside hike filled with wildflowers and other natural wonders.

    When I responded with “It was a puzzle figuring out how to best photograph them” (not what I originally planned to write), she wrote, “Gregg, that’s such a fun part, isn’t it?” That comment was the brightening of a bulb that had already been going off in my head. It led to deeper self-reflection and awareness around my own self-talk patterns.

    We’ve all heard that how we speak to ourselves has a huge impact on our life. If your self-talk is largely negative, it lowers your self-confidence, drive, creativity, spirit, and enthusiasm for life. In short, it limits your self-expression and access to joy. If your self-talk is compassionate, understanding, and loving, it helps you to move through your life with much greater flow and ease.

    There are the more obvious ways negative language patterns show up, and then there are more hidden, subtle, or unconscious ways. Amongst the more obvious are the habitual ways we berate ourselves or call ourselves names.

    For example, if you are making dinner and just as you finish you knock the whole thing on the floor, how might you respond? It makes total sense to be upset or disappointed, but how does that upset manifest within you?

    Perhaps you think, “Geez, I’m such an idiot!” or “I’m so stupid!” If so, rather than simply expressing your disappointment over the action or result, you are taking one moment in your life and using that to malign yourself at your core.

    Even calling yourself clumsy can become a self-fulfilling prophecy. Maybe you feel it’s actually true. Perhaps others have told you that as well. The thing is, whatever we choose to tell ourselves, whether unkind or gracious, our brain looks for ways to prove those thoughts are true.

    You can acknowledge a mistake, express frustration over an experience, or even decide you want to be more careful in the future, all without casting aspersions on yourself. Name-calling or harsh language directed at ourselves is an example of the more readily visible forms of self-talk. But what about those hidden or unconscious patterns?

    That kind of negative self-talk can be far more insidious and more prevalent than you may suspect. I know it was for me. It’s something I’ve been internally exploring lately and why I was struck with my friend’s comment on my post. Discovering the hidden ways I hold myself small has led to developing more empowering language that serves me on a daily basis.

    Though I was affected by ADD (attention deficit disorder) my whole life, it was not until I was in my forties that I was diagnosed. The first book I read on the topic and perhaps my favorite is called You Mean I’m Not Lazy, Stupid, or Crazy?

    I loved the lessons I got from the book and all that I learned about the workings of my brain. For several years, though, I felt at odds with the title. After all, I reasoned, I never spoke of myself in those pejorative terms. At least not that I was consciously aware of anyway.

    Over time, though, I realized there is a part of my brain that has been actively trying to prove I’m not those things. And if part of my brain is trying to prove I’m not that, then another part must in some way be telling me that I am lazy, crazy, or stupid. That’s when I decided it would be helpful to start consciously examining my unconscious patterns for the voice in my head.

    I’ve noticed my persistent stories of “I don’t know how” or “it will be too hard,” which have been a mantra in my head since childhood. I’ve long been mired in those stories, though they can show up in sneaky ways.  For example, if I see a picture of a place I’ve never been, I have a habit of thinking with melancholy “I’ve never been there” or even feeling jealousy or envy for the photographer.

    While it’s not wrong to have such thoughts, and it makes sense for them to come up from time to time, I noticed I was letting a beautiful photograph put me in a state of dissatisfaction, or even feeling sorry for myself. I was perpetuating limiting patterns of victim stories instead of empowering myself. I decided when I recognized that pattern to play with new thoughts.

    That might involve using that beautiful photograph of a place I’ve never been to remind myself of all the amazing places I have been. Or it might be feeling a sense of joy that such places exist or gratitude that others get to enjoy them.

    Or it could be as simple as thinking, “Oh that looks so interesting.” Or even “How do I get there?” That last one could be said with an air of resignation as a way of holding myself small and complaining, or it could be excitement over the possibility, all depending on how I choose to hold that thought.

    It’s not just the specific words we use but what meanings we ascribe to them that give them their energy and power. I’ve found it invaluable to notice my energy as well as the words I choose.

    With the Facebook exchange about my picture and the puzzle of figuring out how to best photograph the pinecones, my first thought was to write, “I was struggling to figure out how to photograph them.”

    But then I thought, “Why am I saying it that way?” I did not feel in struggle. Why would I want to frame it that way to myself or anyone else? So I altered the wording. That change definitely felt more empowered and certainly less stuck in victim mode. But again, it’s not just the words, but noticing the energy as well.

    Because depending on how I choose to hold it, “a puzzle” could be a game or it could be a chore. I was already leaning toward the more positive aspect but with residue from my initial thought of “struggle.”

    So when my friend chimed in with “Gregg, that’s such a fun part, isn’t it?”, I felt light, happy, and energized. And in all honesty, I initially felt a little bit of embarrassment too. Because it really highlighted for me the heavier energy I had been unconsciously creating over an experience I had thoroughly enjoyed.

    That awareness brought excitement for the deepening realization over the ways I can allow my word patterns to create disappointment and sadness or excitement and joy in my nervous system.

    It’s not just about whether we overtly beat ourselves up but what patterns we use. I’ve had a lot of unconscious patterns that have kept me in the mode of victim of the world rather than the creator of my life.

    It’s an awareness that I am continuing to deepen. As I do, I notice I feel more resilient, get stuck in negative emotions for shorter periods of time, and have more access to joy and aliveness. In an instant I can change how I feel just by the way I speak to and about myself.

    You can create that for yourself as well. Here are a few steps to do so. Outside of step one, they are not in chronological order and may even happen simultaneously.

    1. Start simply by slowing down and noticing your patterns.

    Do you berate yourself? Do you use words that feel untrue or create some kind of internal discord or discomfort that would not otherwise exist, as I had when I was going to use the word “struggle”? If so, explore how you can change those patterns and choose more empowering phrasing.

    This is not about denying that sometimes we do struggle or feel sad or have hard things happen. But you might find that your language actually influences your perception and your feelings about your circumstances. You can view the same situation as an obligation or an opportunity; it all depends on how you choose to see it and talk about it.

    2. Revise your word choice.

    On my journey of monitoring my patterns, I noticed that I’d write things like “I can’t figure out xyz” when, for example, I wrote to a company asking for technical support. The word “can’t” has such a disempowering connotation. So I started changing my word choice to things like, “I would like your help to figure out…” or “I would like to understand how to xyz.” This difference can seem subtle, but the impact on my psyche was immense.

    With the word “can’t” I was literally stating I’m incapable of something, whereas in the other two examples, I’m simply acknowledging information that I lack. Which of those feels more empowering to you?

    The language can seem new and uncomfortable or foreign at first. Perhaps you don’t feel sure how to make the shift. Again, the first step is simply to notice. The more awareness you create, the more your brain will automatically start looking for ways to shift toward your desired outcome.

    In the meantime, if you feel comfortable sharing your journey, you can ask a trusted friend, family member, or coach to point out disempowering language when you use it.

    3. Notice how your word choice affects your energy.

    In the example above about asking for technical support, I noticed how my habit of saying “I can’t figure out how to xyz” was subtly chipping away at my self-confidence. It kept me in a state of frustration and my energy small and insecure.

    Making the change to “I would like to understand how to xyz” felt more expansive. I was declaring a desire to make a change rather than declaring what I was not capable of. That feels more empowering in my nervous system, but still not with the aliveness I’d most desire. Now I’d say something more akin to “I’m learning your system” or “I’m gaining clarity around your system. Please explain to me how to xyz.”

    Sharing in that way, I’m speaking to my growth instead of declaring a deficit. In my body, that last one feels powerful and assertive while still asking for the support I need. What feels most powerful for you?

    4. Be kind and compassionate with yourself.

    Don’t expect perfection. Be compassionate with yourself. If you notice you’re reverting to old patterns, rather than berate yourself, use it as an opportunity to be excited. Because it means you are noticing. As in meditation, the idea is to notice your wandering thoughts and come back. Each time you notice you are creating an opportunity for new and more empowering patterns to flow.

    It can be like learning a foreign language. Because in a sense you are. And just like learning any new language can open up whole new avenues of possibility, this one will as well, releasing shame and self-judgment while brightening and uplifting your world.

    For myself, changing my hidden patterns has helped mitigate the impact of historical victim stories that I’ve held. I feel more empowered, with greater energy to achieve my goals. If you give it a try, I’d love to hear what you are noticing.

  • When a Mother Fails to Love: What’s Helped Me Move On

    When a Mother Fails to Love: What’s Helped Me Move On

    “You keep meeting the same person in different bodies until you learn the lesson.” ~Brandon Tarot

    Like most girls in junior high school, I tried out for all the cheerleading squads every time tryouts came around—basketball, football, even wrestling. And like 95% of the girls, I never made the squad.

    My kicks weren’t high enough, my splits weren’t split enough, my arms weren’t board-straight enough, I couldn’t jump high enough—and, let’s be real here: I wasn’t pretty enough and I wasn’t popular enough. After all, we are talking about junior high school.

    But eventually, the one tryout came around that I had half a chance at: the pom-pom squad. Even at thirteen years old, I knew I could dance. Pom pom was the group of ten to twelve girls that performed choreographed routines to music at half-time during basketball games, and rarely during the period breaks at hockey games, on ice (I grew up in North Dakota, where hockey was a big deal).

    To try out for pom pom, you usually got together with two or three of your best girlfriends who also wanted to make the team, picked a song you all liked, and tried to choreograph a dance routine to that song.

    Picking the right song was crucial: it had to be a popular song that everyone would immediately recognize (Top 40, currently getting radio play time was best!), and it had to have the right rock-and-roll beat that was not too slow so that it would be boring to dance to, yet not too fast so that we would have a hard time making spins, kicks, or coordinated moves in time with the beat.

    So it came to pass: Eighth grade, tryout date was announced, and teams signed up to compete. It turned out to be myself and my friends Diane and Becky who agreed we were going to go for it that year.

    We had no experience whatsoever in coming up with a dance routine; all we had ever done was watch the previous year’s dance team do their thing, and we figured we might be able to copy a few moves from them. This was 1970, and I believe we chose an Elton John song that was getting a lot of airtime that year.

    We pulled my bright orange record player out to my back concrete patio and set it up, where we played that song over and over as we practiced sequences of turns, kicks, fancy footwork, arm movements, and hip action.

    This patio was right off the back door leading from our kitchen, and in retrospect I’m sure hearing that song play endlessly must have driven my mother insane, because even after my friends left for the day, I continued to practice, practice, practice.

    Finally, the day of tryouts arrived! It was long and nerve-wracking, as we had to watch everyone else’s performance until our turn came around.

    We watched as their nerves got the better of them—as the plastered smiles froze and then faded completely, their eyes widening like deer in the headlights. We saw them forget their steps; turn in opposite directions; one girl ran off before her routine was even over. A few routines went smoothly, and you could hear the collective sigh of relief from those of us still waiting, but the disastrous ones unnerved us completely.

    I actually have no memory whatsoever of how our routine went. I remember our names being called, scampering up onto the gym floor, hearing the scratching of the needle on the record, and shaking like a leaf until the music started. Then I remember sitting down and the polite applause afterward. That’s it.

    We watched as the final teams competed, and waited for the judges to make their picks. This was the worst part of all. The gym was full of girls who all wanted a shot, and they would hear in front of everyone whether they would get that shot or not.

    It was already getting late and the judges seemed to be taking a long time. This event had taken place on a school night, so by now it was past 9:30 p.m.

    One by one, they started to call the girls’ names who had made it onto the dance team. When they eventually said “Gail …” and hesitated on the last name, I knew it was me they were referring to! (I had a Polish last name that always seemed to get massacred.)

    I leapt to my feet and ran out onto the gym floor in complete shock—OH MY GOD OH MY GOD!! My girlfriends pounded me on the back on my way out to the floor and shrieked and clapped for me. Finally, the ONE thing I knew I was good at, and I got my chance to be a part of this group. I was over-the-top euphoric!

    I lived a little more than a mile from my junior high school and had to walk back home that night. Well, I practically ran all the way home; I was so excited and couldn’t wait to tell my mom that I had made the pom pom team! I burst into the back door about 10:30 p.m.

    I yelled out, “Mom!”

    She stormed through the living room and into the kitchen, furious and screaming at me, “Where the HELL have you been??”

    Taken aback, I said, “You know I was at pom pom tryouts. I made it!”

    She said, “I don’t give a damn. You know your curfew is 10 o’clock. What the hell have you been doing this whole time?”

    Dumbfounded, I tried again. “Ma, you know where I was. It went late. It wasn’t my fault. Ma, didn’t you hear me? I made the squad.”

    “I don’t care about that. Next time you call if you’re going to be late.” Then she turned around and went to bed.

    I was stunned. If she had slapped me in the face, it wouldn’t have hurt worse. Literally the only thing I’d ever competed for, and they had said “Yes, Gail, you have talent, and we want you on our team,” and my own mother didn’t give a damn.

    If I ever needed a message that in her mind, my accomplishments meant nothing, she delivered it loud and clear that night. Unfortunately, it left a scar so deep that it remained with me for rest of my life, as the same message continued to be delivered, over and over.

    That night I could not get to sleep. Waves of excitement kept washing over me as I couldn’t believe my good fortune in being picked for this elite team. I remember literal chills going through my body; I simply could not relax. Then I would remember my mom’s reaction and a feeling of incredulity would take over.

    How could someone do that to their own daughter? How could someone do that to anyone who had such great news to tell—be such a horrible wet blanket?

    I never forgave her for how she treated me that night. At the end of that school year, the teacher/advisor who was the head of the pom pom squad thought it would be nice to host a mother-daughter night. The girls would choreograph a special routine, showing the mothers what they had learned all year long, and the teachers would prepare a special buffet for the mothers. This would take place after school one night. I didn’t even tell my mom about it.

    The day arrived, and I just told my mom I had a performance after school and would be home late. When I got home several hours later, she tore into me, furious. One of the other mothers had called her up, offering her a ride to the mother-daughter night. Of course this caught my mom off-guard because she didn’t know anything about it, and it embarrassed her as well. She declined the ride, seeing as she wasn’t ready to go out.

    Obviously, I got yelled at again because of the embarrassing phone call. But this time I didn’t care. I just tossed my head and said, “I didn’t tell you about it because I knew you wouldn’t want to go anyway.” And I walked away.

    The following year, as I was transitioning into high school, I tried out again for the high school pom pom squad. That year, I was the only one from my entire junior high school who made the team. For all three years of high school, I continued to try out and make the team. My senior year, I was the only senior on the squad.

    All this is to say that I was good at what I did. And for the four years I was performing with these girls, my mother never came once to watch me dance.

    I think her ugly dismissal of my winning a spot on the team, and my response by keeping her away from the mother-daughter night, created a gulf between us that never got repaired. The battle lines between us were already drawn, but that incident firmly entrenched them for many decades to come.

    When the most important people in my life essentially told me that I didn’t matter, that my accomplishments didn’t matter, two things resulted: I stopped “putting my pearls before swine,” and I started to seek validation from the wrong people and in the wrong places.

    By pearls before swine, I mean this: I protected my heart by not including her in the big celebratory events of my life. I felt that because of her lack of support, she didn’t deserve to be there and wouldn’t really appreciate what I’d accomplished anyway.

    We started to live a tit-for-tat existence. One day I came home from high school to find out that she’d given away my dog—she left a note for me on the kitchen table. The explosive fight we had when she came home that evening was epic, as was the silent treatment around the house that lasted for weeks afterward.

    She tried to prevent me from attending college, telling me I’d only be wasting money and was only going there to “chase boys” anyway. Four years later when I earned my B.S. degree, I purposely didn’t walk the graduation ceremony to spite her, thus robbing her of her day in the sun. “Why should she get any credit for that,” I thought? Several years later when I earned my M.S. degree, I didn’t invite her to that ceremony either, which I did participate in.

    The most far-reaching decision I made, as early as high school, was that I would never have children. I was the youngest of seven in my family and the only one who never had kids. I was so afraid I would turn out to be a mother just like her, and I didn’t want to inflict that kind of misery on any child.

    Where was my father in all of this? When I was in junior high school, my father had an operation for a brain tumor and its removal was successful. But a few days later he had a stroke that left him paralyzed on his right side and unable to speak. He remained in this state, wheelchair-bound, for the rest of his life.

    This was our alcoholic father who was unfaithful to my mother and physically abusive to her and to his seven children. Our mother, being the righteous Catholic martyr that she was, insisted it was her duty to now care for him at home. I am convinced it was this intensive caregiving for a man she did not love and who had been horrible to her that turned her into the bitter woman who was doing battle with me.

    It took decades of hindsight and therapy for me to see and understand this, but in the thick of our day-to-day dogfights, all I saw was a woman who would do everything in her power to hold me back. If she couldn’t be happy, no one was going to be happy.

    I’ve had three failed marriages, the final one lasting only nine months. My therapist helped me to see that I chose the same personality type each time: three overachievers, three brilliant and talented individuals, three bright and shiny objects. And by doing that, I was seeking my own validation—they reflected well on me, and surely they must see the same qualities in me.

    What I didn’t realize was that in these types of partnerships with high-achieving individuals, there is only room for one successful person, and that person would not be me. Megalomaniacs do not share the spotlight.

    Finally, in my sixties now, I understand that aloneness does not mean loneliness. I am more content and fulfilled than I’ve ever been in my life, as I pursue as many passions and dreams as the remaining years will allow. To finally achieve self-acceptance and self-esteem through rigorous study and therapy has been the greatest gift imaginable.

    It all started with understanding that my mother’s mistreatment had nothing to do with me. She let her pain shape her life. I won’t do the same. And I won’t spend my time seeking validation from anyone else, as I once did with my mother and three husbands. It’s natural to want approval from other people, but all that really matters is that we approve of ourselves.

  • Breaking the Toxic Cycle: My Family Dysfunction Stops with Me

    Breaking the Toxic Cycle: My Family Dysfunction Stops with Me

    TRIGGER WARNING: This post references physical abuse and may be triggering to some people.

    “Forgive yourself for not knowing better at the time. Forgive yourself for giving away your power. Forgive yourself for past behaviors. Forgive yourself for the survival patterns and traits you picked up while enduring trauma. Forgive yourself for being who you needed to be.” ~Audrey Kitching 

    I will never forget, when I was twelve years old, I went to sit on my father’s lap and he told me, “No! You’re too heavy to sit on my lap!” What does an adolescent girl do with a comment like that? She hides it away and adds it to the ammunition she has begun to store up in her arsenal of self-flagellation. Shame knows no boundaries.

    My father was never intentionally cruel to me. He had demons of his own. I knew that he had been physically abused as a boy and he used to tell us, or rather proclaim, “I vow to NEVER hit any of my kids!” He neglected to realize that words can hurt even more than a physical slap. And even more hurtful was when nothing was said at all.

    Silence is a killer that there are no words for.

    His father used a leather razor sharpening strap to beat him, and my father hung it in the kitchen of our house. I would wonder if it was a reminder of what happened to him, or was it a warning of what could happen to us? I made sure I toed the line so I would never find out. The beginning of my perfectionism.

    Growing up, the one message that was crystal clear to me was that my body was not acceptable. It was reinforced in so many ways. The times my father would suggest I attend Weight Watchers meetings with my mother. But the biggest reinforcement was once a month when the Playboy Magazine would arrive in the mail. That was what a real woman’s body was supposed to look like! And the only point of reference I had.

    I dealt with this by going within. I hid food and binged in secret. I used running and sports to try to counter the caloric intake. I became the perfect daughter on the outside, knowing it didn’t matter because I would never be acceptable. I fought a battle that there was no way to win. I just didn’t know it at the time. I was a teenager trying to find love in all the wrong places, with all the wrong people. In all the wrong ways.

    And I wasn’t the only one. I was the oldest of four children, and my siblings all had their own demons they were fighting as well. Some people would say that the family that plays together stays together. I would add that the dysfunction in a family can not only rip a family apart, but it can also pick them off one by one.

    My father was the first to fall victim. He died when I was thirty-six from pancreatic cancer after suffering a massive stroke. I am convinced that his stroke was a direct cause of his drinking and lifestyle.

    My youngest sister died when I was thirty-nine years old. She was in a physically abusive relationship for nine years. Her partner and the father to her two children beat her to death.

    The hardest loss was my mother, who died when I was fifty-two. She had suffered from dementia for years. but ultimately it was lung cancer that caused her death.

    At fifty-six, my second sister died of an accidental overdose of heroin. She was fifty-five.

    And lastly, my only brother, who is still living, is recovering from laryngeal cancer and now uses an artificial voice box.

    For the longest time, I would wonder when my time was coming. People would tell me that my family was cursed, and the temptation to fall into that camp was appealing. Just let the chips fall where they may! But the truth of the matter was that, like for us all, there are consequences for our choices. I know that sounds harsh considering that I have lost most of my family, but I cannot make it be anything it is not. And believe me, I’ve tried!

    My codependency was strong, and I tried to save them all! And in the process, I was losing myself. I was tired. I was sad, I felt defeated. But enough was enough.

    I had made the decision, when my husband and I adopted our only daughter, that the dysfunction was going to stop with me.

    I had a lot of work to do on myself. I had to uncover all the lies I had believed about myself. About my life. And then I had to choose new things to believe. I had to unearth all the ammunition I had used to build the walls I had cemented around myself. The walls that would have strangled me if I had let them.

    But that is my work to do now. And because I made the decision to do that work, my daughter is a healthy, well-adjusted young woman in her third year of college.

    I don’t say that to pat myself on the shoulder necessarily, but why not? I chose to walk a different path then my biological family. And choosing that different path also offered me different choices. And it will also my daughter different choices.

    I learned about the boundaries I needed to place around my own family unit, and I was not popular for that. Those boundaries were not popular, and I was ostracized and called out for them.

    My work was to take the box down from the closet. You know the one, where the secrets hide. And if I just keep it up there, no one needs to know. But I knew I had to open that box and take them all out. Then I could decide which were real and which were imagined. Which ones had to go and which ones I could work with.

    Life is a series of turning points. And we get to decide, at any time whether we keep moving forward or whether it’s time to turn around and begin again. We are never too old to keep moving forward. And we have never made a mistake that cannot be forgiven. A wrong that cannot be made right. I have forgiven myself for many mistakes. Many hurts I have caused. I have made amends. I keep taking the next right step.

    I am fifty-eight. I have forgiven those who have needed to be forgiven. I have grieved the family I wished I had. And I continue to grieve the loss of those who have died far too young. And the relationships that will never be.

    I no longer run from the loneliness that catches up to me from time to time. I just don’t stay wrapped in it for too long. I have shed the shawl of shame I have carried around me and work everyday to find the light and the beauty within.

    And I continue to remind myself, every single day, that it is not too late to become who I was created to be. My work is to keep doing the work and find my way home. Home is a place within. A place of wholeness. A place where self-forgiveness and self-acceptance merge. And beauty abounds.

  • The First Thing You Need to Do If You Want to Change Your Life

    The First Thing You Need to Do If You Want to Change Your Life

    “Awareness is the greatest agent for change.” ~Eckhart Tolle

    There are two ways to live life.

    One is a more reactive approach, where you fight back when you encounter challenges in your personal or professional life. The other is a more proactive one where you are mindful of the trends within you and around you and ready with your surfboard whenever a big wave hits!

    The only difference between the two is awareness.

    Awareness empowers you to make conscious choices based on an understanding of yourself and the situation, to notice what your choice created, and to then choose again. This is why awareness is powerful. By becoming aware, you are snatching control back.

    Merely observing your thoughts and behavior can spur positive action.

    Big words. How am I so sure?

    Just by tracking my sleep, I was able to gain insights into what aids my sleep and what disrupts it.

    When I started tracking my food, I realized calories don’t matter but macros do. I then changed how I consumed food.

    Journaling allowed me to observe my mental chatter and learn from it. It made me aware that most of my anger and frustration stems from lack of sleep, food, or water.

    Tracking my finances made it easier to make tough calls with my spending.

    I didn’t make these changes overnight. They took days and months of being aware before the changes actually happened.

    Awareness is knowledge. Knowledge gives you power. Power makes it easier to change.

    In the absence of awareness, you react mindlessly to your surroundings because all you have is the movement of thought. Your reaction will then depend on your past experiences and conditioning.

    If in the past, you dealt with stress by eating, you are going to reach for your favorite snack. If your past experience taught you to raise your voice to get heard, you will easily shout when you are being ignored.

    You start to believe what you are experiencing is reality when actually you are experiencing the narrative your mind created as a reaction to what is going on around you. Without awareness, you confuse what is happening in your mind with reality. You are at the mercy of the conditioned mind.

    “Awareness is all about restoring your freedom to choose what you want instead of what your past imposes on you.” ~Deepak Chopra

    Most of us are clueless about why we do what we do, how we present ourselves, and how others perceive us. And we get stuck in negative patterns as a result.

    Here are some ways you can improve your awareness so you can improve your life.

    Practice self-reflection.

    This allows you to take a step back and ask probing questions of yourself. As Ferris Bueller said, “Life moves pretty fast. If you don’t stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it.”

    Ask yourself: Why did I react this way? Why is this making me sad? Why am I so against this viewpoint? Where did this belief come from? 

    Doing this will allow you to make stronger connections. It will make your convictions stronger and give you the fuel to argue your viewpoint in a civil manner. It will also make you aware of your bad habits and thought patterns.

    For instance, self-reflection has taught me that I have a tendency to eat unhealthy food when I haven’t gotten enough sleep. I also have a tendency to shut myself off from people when I am angry instead of talking to them calmly. Knowing this about myself, I am able to catch these unhealthy habits and choose healthier responses.

    Journal.

    Journaling is a great tool for self-reflection, since it helps you understand and challenge your thoughts and beliefs, and it’s also an incredible stress reliever. It acts as a brain dump. Think of this as a parking lot for your thoughts. Just like your back feels lighter when you take off your heavy backpack, your mind will feel lighter and less stressful once you dump your thoughts on a piece of paper.

    You can do this once a week, once a day, or even once every fortnight. All you need is a diary and a pen to get going. Trust me, nobody is so busy that they cannot take five minutes in a day to journal.

    Take personality and psychometric tests.

    Whereas a personality test can give you insight into why you do the things you do, a psychometric test can help you asses your skills, knowledge, abilities, and characteristics. I am not a big fan of these, but there are scores of free tests available online. You might find yourself agreeing or disagreeing with the results, but they will give you some food for thought.

    Since they’re all based on some sort of questionnaire that you answer, I would recommend taking more than one to get a broader understanding of your strengths, weaknesses, and behavior patterns.

    Ask for feedback.

    There is a catch to this one. You need to be willing to take the feedback someone gives you without being offended or getting into an argument. If you can ask probing questions from them to dig deeper, even better!

    If you are uncomfortable with people pointing out your mistakes and shortcomings to your face, you can ask through email. This way you have time to digest what people write before responding and will be less likely to react defensively.

    Step out of your comfort zone.

    Once you become aware of your limitations, the next step is to push them and face your fears.

    I used to hate talking to large crowds or presenting in front of people. Nothing made me sweat faster!

    Since I was aware, I decided to tackle this by joining a student organization in college where my role was to go to different classes and present about the organization in efforts to recruit more students. It wasn’t easy, but within a year, I wasn’t sweating anymore!

    For you, this might mean setting a boundary with someone after recognizing your habit of letting people take advantage of you or applying for a job you’ve been interested in after recognizing that you usually hold yourself back with fears of not being good enough.

    This is how awareness changes your life: when you not only recognize what you’re doing and why but consciously choose to do something different.

    —

    Awareness makes you stronger. With awareness, you are able to bounce back faster after adversity. You are conscious of your insecurities and shortcomings. You have gone through the cycle enough times to understand what triggers them and how you can recover from them.

    For example, in my case, when I am feeling sad and depressed, I know I can recover if I take a nap or go workout. It helps me shake off the bad mojo.

    Awareness allows you to empathize with people. You can relate to the other person because you know the signs, having experienced them yourself. It becomes very easy to step into the other person’s shoes instead of judging them. In fact, it will come naturally after a while.

    Your agility increases because of your awareness. You can pluck yourself in and out of any situation when you want and are able to adapt and pivot as needed on much shorter notice. In other words, you are able to move, think, or act quickly.

    The pursuit of self-awareness also leads you to your blind spots. It uncovers the unknown and makes it known, so at least you are aware of it, even if you are not able to act on it right away.

    When I look back, I have been blessed to have experienced many moments of awareness discovering things either by myself or because someone in my trusted circle caught it. I am pretty sure when you look back, you will also be able to spot those moments where your transformation first began because of the awareness bringing it to light.

    The wheels of change begin to move with the first sign of awareness.

  • How to Love Yourself and Break Your Relationship Patterns

    How to Love Yourself and Break Your Relationship Patterns

    “And still, after all this time, the Sun has never said to the Earth, ‘You owe me.’ Look what happens with a love like that. It lights up the sky.” ~Rumi

    I grew up believing love was conditional. My grandmother, as much as I adored her, was extremely controlling, and unless I met her high standards of behavior and gave her a certain level of attention, she treated me with coldness.

    Whenever she disapproved of my behavior, she would tell me, “I love you, but I don’t like you.” As if she had a switch she could turn on and off that stopped or started the flow of love from her heart.

    When I was in her good graces, she gave me the world.

    After my grandfather passed away, I provided her much support and attention. As such, she became very loving and generous toward me. Helping me pay off my credit cards, gifting me valuable pieces of her jewelry, praising me on my accomplishments. It felt amazing to be loved by her. But this kind of love based on conditions is not sustainable.

    Eventually I fell out of her favor, and the switch turned off once again. The flow of love stopped. This pattern continued until she passed away a few years ago.

    I do not fault her or claim to be a victim, as I understand she learned this behavior from her own mother, and it was passed down for generations. Even more devastating, she grew up in Nazi Germany, where her family was prosecuted for being Jewish. These are deep multigenerational wounds that need healing.

    As an adult I am aware enough to break this inherited cycle. I recognize how I have repeated this pattern in my own relationships.

    I am very nurturing and giving to others. This is my love language and it feels good to give. However, when a relationship ends or the flow of love stops, I feel those old emotional wounds resurface.

    When the love I attempt to give is rejected this causes me much pain and distress and makes me question my own value. I make it mean something about myself, as I did with my grandmother. That I’m not enough, worthy, or lovable.

    I have also withheld love and affection toward others when I have felt vulnerable or hurt. We mirror for one another the parts of ourselves we reject, the parts of ourselves that need healing.

    I’ve recognized that the only way to break my unhealthy relationship patterns is to work on healing my emotional wounds and develop love for myself.

    How can we cultivate self-love and change our relationship patterns?

     1. Become the observer.

    The first step to breaking down the barriers that impede self-love is through awareness of our thoughts. By observing our thoughts, we can begin to identify our own destructive patterns and shift our thinking. As Buddha said, “All that we are is the result of what we have thought. The mind is everything. What we think we become.” Our thoughts become our words, our words become our actions, and our actions become our life.

    So often we stand in our own way. By living in our own personal dramas. Through our stories and conditioned thought patterns. By our inability to see things as they actually are. So many of these barriers exist in our own mind.

    In order to become more aware of our thoughts we need to carve out space to simply be still and watch them. Meditation and mindfulness are powerful tools to develop awareness.

    If we want to take it one step further, we can write down the flow of thoughts, and from this space we can see the often-ridiculous nonsense our mind produces. The more space we have from our thoughts, the more we can find peace within ourselves and can choose where to direct our energy.

    2. Find ease in your aloneness.

    I find it extremely unconformable to be alone. I have this irrational need to be in constant communication with others, yet at the same time, when I feel I am being stifled or overwhelmed, I have an intense need to retreat and go within.

    Then often when I am alone the negative thoughts and questions of worth resurface. My mind replays all the ways I have failed in my relationships and in my life. I become sad or angry or hurt as I put energy into these thoughts. It’s a toxic dance with my own thoughts and emotions.

    There is a difference between being alone and being lonely. Being lonely is where we feel isolated and disconnected from others and from ourselves. Being alone is being comfortable enough with ourselves to sit still in our own presence. To quiet the mind and simply be present with our breath.

    When we find ease in being alone with ourselves, we can move from a place of self-love rather than a place of need or insecurity. The more comfortable we become with ourselves, the more ease we will experience in our relationships, which will be founded on an open flow of mutual love and acceptance.

    3. See the love all around.

    I often ask myself why am I so concerned about the few people who treat me unkindly when love exists all around and within me.

    There are many instances in my life where I have been rejected, and I dwell on these relationships for weeks; meanwhile, my best friend or my puppy or a stranger on the street is demonstrating love toward me.

    When we focus on what is lacking, it closes us off to the flow of abundance always available—the love demonstrated in nature, the love pouring from other relationships in our lives, the love that exists in our own heart.

    When we shift our focus from what is missing and see what is right in front of us, we develop an increased level of awareness and attract like situations, relationships and experiences. 

    4. Practicing presence, trust, and surrender.

    The more present we become, the less we live in our minds and the more we move with the flow of life.

    We can always choose a higher path of acceptance. When we find ourselves in a situation or relationship that is not in our best interest, we can choose not to take things personally or make it mean something about ourselves. We can have enough self-respect to walk away from a relationship or situation that is not healthy.

    Trust is letting go and allowing the beauty of life to flow through us. If we could trust our path like we trust our own breath, that with each exhale a fresh inhale will come and fill us back up again, then perhaps it would be easier to let go.

    Releasing attachment, for me, is a regular practice, which is why I tattooed the word “surrender” in Sanskrit on my ankle as a daily reminder.

    —

    One of my favorite books, The Mastery of Love, by Don Miguel Ruiz Jr., tells the story of the Magical Kitchen.

    The story goes like this: Imagine you have a magical kitchen. You have so much abundance and amazing food to eat that you generously share with everyone. Everyone eats at your house because your kitchen is overflowing with nourishment.

    Then one day, someone comes to your door and offers you pizza for life. All you have to do in return is allow them to control you. What would you do? You would laugh and say, “I don’t need your pizza! I have a magical kitchen, but come in and enjoy the food I have to offer!”

    Now imagine you are starving, and your kitchen is empty. You haven’t eaten anything substantial for days. Now someone comes to your house and offers you the pizza. And you are so starving you accept it, allowing them to control your life.

    All of our hearts are like the magical kitchen, though we forget or get cut off from the abundance of love in our hearts. We accept relationships and situations that are unhealthy for us because we are starving for love and affection. All the while our heart has an eternal flow of love that asks for nothing. We are full of abundance, and once we rediscover this universal truth, we will never be hungry again.

    The most important relationship in our life is the one we have with ourselves. If we want to attract people and situations in our life that are healthy and based on mutual love and respect, then we must heal our emotional wounds, change our patterns, and love all parts of ourselves without condition. Only then can true love flow in our life and our relationships.

  • How to Break Unstable Relationship Patterns

    How to Break Unstable Relationship Patterns

    “Being willing to accept responsibility for the situation you’re in is the first step to a more fulfilling love life.” ~Renée Suzanne

    Remember the haunting ballad “Foolish Games” by Jewel?

    Jewel wrote the song when she was sixteen. She kept a serious journal, and said in an interview that a verse in the song was “about a relationship that I was dramatically involved in on paper.”

    That pretty much sums up my first relationship, which was a dramatic pseudo-relationship in many ways. I was sixteen going on seventeen, hopelessly romantic yet shrewdly skeptical of love at the same time. My emotions were wild and intense, and that was what I thought “real love” felt like.

    This drama followed me throughout the few but memorable relationships I had in my twenties. When a partner was rude to me or put me down, I’d think that I somehow deserved it or that it was a challenge to do better with a quick-witted comeback. I’d tell myself that the other person needed “space” to “calm down,” without giving as much care or thought to what I really wanted or needed.

    Mind games and second-guessing are part and parcel of an unstable relationship.

    As Anita wrote in a forum comment: “Maybe you are testing him each time you withdraw—will he go after me?” In my mind, I’d rationalize it as the need to be “reaffirmed” that I was really what the person was looking for in an ideal partner.

    All of the unstable relationships I was in ultimately failed.

    In hindsight, it’s no wonder why!

    I had constantly attracted and been attracted to partners who lacked commitment, reliability, and emotional stability. Things would blow hot and cold on a regular basis in either direction (“She’s So Cold,” by The Rolling Stones, was yet another song with lyrics I could relate to).

    When I reached my early thirties, I started putting in more effort to break out of these negative relationship patterns. I realized that I had to accept responsibility for being in horrible relationship situations that I thought no wise and sane person would ever put up with.

    I’d like to share what I learned in the hopes that my experience may help someone else who’s desperately trying to move forward from a troubled dating history.

    5 Lessons About Breaking Unhealthy Relationship Patterns

    1. Observe your thoughts and their actions.

    When I observed myself, I noticed that my own thoughts about love and relationships were full of negative or anxious associations. I believed that it was close to impossible to be in a healthy relationship or that I would always be attracted to unstable types.

    This anxiety carried over into my behavior on a daily basis. I was always skeptical to the point of being paranoid. Being too trusting is a fault, but I saw how the other extreme could be just as damaging as it didn’t give me much of a chance to see the good side of others. I couldn’t expect my relationships to improve if I had such low confidence in ever being in a fulfilling relationship.

    I also had to recognize when someone’s words and actions didn’t line up. A glib speaker might be able to use words to perfectly express or explain something, but it’s a person’s behavior that really matters at the end of the day. A partner who proclaims they’re the greatest is an egomaniac if they fail to see how their hurtful words or behavior affects you.

    2. Get clear on your boundaries.

    Think about what makes you feel sad, uncomfortable, drained, or diminished as a human being.

    My list of personal boundaries includes the following:

    • I need a partner who’s financially responsible.
    • I need a partner who won’t resort to belittling my mind and opinions should we have a clash of opinions.
    • I need plenty of alone time to rest, recharge, and dedicate to my creative projects.

    You need to understand what your personal boundaries are so that you can maintain them. More importantly, it helps you keep a distance from people who don’t respect your limits.

    Boundaries don’t exist because you’re selfish or because you want to make life difficult for others. Boundaries are a form of self-care for your mental and emotional health. If this makes things “difficult” for others, perhaps they’re not the people you should be spending most of your time and life with.

    3. Get clear on what you want.

    When you have a better idea of what you don’t want, shift the focus onto what you do want in your relationships.

    Think about the time and energy you’ve poured into unstable relationships. If you spent as much time and energy on seeking a healthy relationship, wouldn’t you have a reasonable chance of success?

    To enjoy a stable relationship with someone mature and available, consider the deeper values you and your partner need to be in alignment with.

    Do you want to have kids, or are you looking for someone who can also be a stepparent? Are you adamantly childfree and need a partner to respect this choice of yours? How financially responsible would you like your partner to be, and what are your financial expectations in a relationship?

    These aren’t exactly romantic questions, and you don’t want to be unrealistic with a never-ending list of points that a potential partner must check off. But knowing what your deal breakers are before entering a relationship can save you a lot of time and heartache.

    4. Don’t give up on yourself.

    You may feel like your dating history is akin to scorched earth, where there’s nothing but rubble, ashes, and a rancid boatload of chronic low self-esteem.

    No matter how bad it is, don’t give up on yourself.

    You are a unique individual, and the story of your life is up to you to create. There may be setbacks and failures, but you never have to lose sight of your dreams and goals.

    To lose yourself in a relationship is a sad way to feel out of touch with who you really are.

    Spend the time to not just get to know yourself, but to know what really motivates you. This self-understanding will serve as a source of inspiration whenever you need to remind yourself of your gifts and strengths.

    5. Choose wisely.

    You always have a choice at the end of the day.

    Instead of self-destruction through an unstable relationship, you can choose self-love and commit to leaving unhealthy relationships behind you. Choose peace over drama and emotional rollercoasters when it comes to romantic partners. Choose relationships where you feel free to be your authentic self instead of needing to walk on eggshells for fear of saying something that will set your partner off.

    Above all, choose to be with someone who is kind and respectful toward you.

    Your failed relationships help you to recognize the negative patterns that you need to break free from. This freedom allows you to begin healing from within, and it helps you move on in wisdom, not anger. You’re then able to face each day at an optimum level with the knowledge that you’ll be able to handle whatever comes your way.

    Realize that it’s not impossible to break free from negative relationship patterns. Know that life has more to offer than unstable relationships, and that you are worth a whole lot more than someone else’s self-destructive tendencies.

  • How to Re-wire Your Brain for Better Relationships

    How to Re-wire Your Brain for Better Relationships

    “For one human being to love another: that is perhaps the most difficult of all our tasks; the ultimate, the last test and proof, the work for which all other work is but preparation.” ~Rainer Maria Rilke

    I was eight years old when my father and I somehow ended up in a heated, verbal struggle. I don’t remember what we were fighting about, but I remember that he was yelling at me.

    I already knew by then that my father didn’t deal well with anger. It wasn’t uncommon for him to explode into fits of rage. I don’t know what I had done this time that had gotten him so upset, but I must have felt that he was being unfair. As he turned his back on me to walk away, I blurted out, “I hate you!”

    It’s not an uncommon thing for a kid to say in the heat of anger, because kids haven’t yet learned how to cope with strong emotions. If you’re a parent, you know what I’m talking about.

    My father didn’t respond. In fact, he didn’t say anything to me at all for several days. He gave me the silent treatment. He ignored all of my attempts to get his attention or to try to reconnect with him. He acted as if I didn’t exist.

    I felt alone, sad, guilty, and scared. As you can imagine, for a child of eight, it was excruciating to be shut off from him. And that wasn’t the only time my dad punished me with silence.

    Obviously, my father wasn’t a good role model for helping me to deal with anger constructively. If he had been, he might have asked me what was upsetting me and would have helped me figure out my feelings. At the very least, he might have apologized for getting so angry.

    Instead, he responded in a way that was anxiety-provoking, guilt-inducing, and painful. His tendency to act in this way made an indelible impression on me and my nervous system that I have struggled with for much of my life. The message I got was clear: Anger is bad and dangerous to a relationship; it brings disdain, loss of approval, and abandonment.

    It’s not that my father didn’t love me. I know now that he loved me very much. But he had a really hard time managing his emotions. This came from his own early experiences in his family where he learned the very same thing that he ended up teaching me.

    During our volatile exchange, I’m sure something deep in his brain had gotten triggered and had gotten the best of him. Some old unprocessed feelings came up, and caused him to withdraw and shut down.

    At the time, he didn’t understand what kind of damage his reaction was causing. He was actually doing the best he knew how. Fortunately, he’s grown and changed a lot since then and so have I.

    But that kind of treatment affected the way my brain got wired. I grew up feeling anxious about feelings of anger. If I felt angry with someone important to me, I worried that if I spoke up or asserted myself, they would abandon me.

    In my adult relationships, any sign of conflict with a partner, friend, or authority figure made me scared that something bad would happen, that I’d be punished in some way, rejected, or abandoned. In romantic relationships, I worried that I would lose our relationship if anything challenging came up.

    As soon as anger arose in some way, my nervous system would respond as though I was in danger. I’d feel anxious and panicky. I’d question my feelings and inevitably I’d rationalizing away whatever was bothering me. I avoided the discomfort of honoring my emotions and talking to the other person about how I felt.

    My adult relationships followed a typical pattern: They would start out with a lot of happiness and excitement, but as they continued, I’d start to feel anxious, worried, unsure, especially whenever there was any sign of conflict. I felt conflicted about my feelings and had a hard time working with them.

    Every relationship has times when partners get angry or upset, and in healthy relationships, the partners can find a way to constructively deal with their emotions and talk it out with one another. But that was not a part of my software. I’d avoid having uncomfortable conversations, I’d repress my feelings, and I’d hide how I really felt.

    As a result, I would often wonder why I felt so disconnected to other people. I would keep busy with my work, school, going to the gym and other activities just so I wouldn’t have to slow down and feel my real feelings.

    Of course, none of this was apparent to me at the time. It was just how I’d been wired. It took many years before I understood what was going on.

    Eventually a skilled and compassionate therapist helped me see how much anxiety was affecting my experience, that I was shutting myself off from my certain feelings because they felt threatening. I had been taught that strong emotions–particularly anger—were dangerous and would result in abandonment and rejection.

    Now, many years later, I have a happy twenty-two-year marriage to my husband, Tim, and I’m a therapist, writer, coach, and speaker. Though I still sometimes feel that old wiring trying to take control, I’ve developed some skills to manage the anxiety or fear that can get stirred up when something is off between us or when conflict arises.

    I see many clients who struggle with similar issues in their relationships. They feel excited to start out with their new romance, but as the relationship goes on, they start to struggle, they feel disconnected, shut down, or they and their partners fight a lot, or respond in ways that don’t support the health of their relationship.

    They often ask me: why is this so hard?

    I’ve learned that, while our specific relationship problems may be different, the underlying issue for most of us is the same.

    At the core of our struggles, underneath many layers of conflict and complaints, is a fear of being emotionally present and authentic in our relationships. We’re afraid of truly expressing our feelings in a vulnerable way. We worry that the other person won’t like us or want to be with us if we tell them what’s really going on for us.

    But why are we afraid of being emotionally present in our relationships?

    The short answer is that—as you saw in the story about my dad and me—our adult brains are still operating on wiring that was created in the first few years of our lives. Depending on what our caretakers taught us about how to function in close relationships, we may have learned some unhealthy coping mechanisms.

    If you struggle with painful romantic relationships (or even troubled relationships in general) as I have, you may be experiencing the effects of “faulty wiring.” You may have learned ways to cope with your emotions that don’t serve you anymore.

    Luckily, there are ways to “re-wire” your brain for better relationships.

    The first step is to understand what you learned about expressing your emotions when you were a child. Take some time to respond to these questions (separately for each parent or caregiver):

    • How did your parent(s) respond to your feelings?
    • Were they generally open, attentive, and responsive to your feelings?
    • Did they get uncomfortable or anxious when you expressed your feelings or certain feelings in particular (e.g., anger, sadness, fear, joy, and the like)?
    • Did they get distracted or seem to ignore certain feelings?
    • Were some feelings okay and others not? If so, which feelings were welcomed, and which weren’t?
    • Did they get irritated, frustrated, or angry at times when you expressed certain feelings?
    • Did they apologize when they hurt your feelings or reacted in an unhelpful way?
    • How did they respond when you were afraid or feeling vulnerable?
    • How did they respond when you were angry and asserted yourself?
    • How did they respond when you were affectionate and loving?
    • Could you rely on them to be there for you emotionally when you needed them?
    • Overall, how did it feel for you to share your vulnerable feelings with them?

    Now think about whether your answers to these questions reminds you of your romantic relationships in any way. Do you ever see yourself acting in similar ways to one of your parents or caregivers when particular feelings arise in your relationship? Does your partner ever act in similar ways? If you’re in a relationship now and your partner is willing, ask them to answer these questions about their parents as well.

    See if you can identify any patterns in how you both share and react to different emotions in one another.

    If you’re not currently in a relationship, think about past relationships, especially particularly difficult ones.

    After you get a sense of what lessons you may have learned about how to express emotions (or not) with people close to you, you’ll be in a better place to learn new ways of reacting.

    Here are some tips for growing your capacity to be emotionally mindful and present when you get triggered by your feelings. .

    1. Recognize and name.

    When you feel a strong emotion, you may have been triggered by old wiring. You may feel out of control in your response, which is why some people say, “I don’t know what came over me!” when they get really upset.

    The first step in regaining control of your emotions is to learn to identify the ones that most often trigger you. Practice observing yourself when you feel those challenging emotions. Name them as they come up. You might even want to write down the emotions that are difficult for you to cope with. This step takes a lot of practice, but it gets easier the more you do it.

    2. Stop, drop, and stay.

    When we feel triggered, upset, and uncomfortable, we often want to escape that emotion. We may get irritable, yell or criticize, walk away, shut ourselves in our room, or numb ourselves out.

    But in order to practice being mindful of your emotions, you’ll need to learn how to stay with them and ride them out. Rather than doing what you normally do when you have those feelings, stop. Pay attention to how the emotion feels in your body. Describe it. Ask it what it’s there to teach you. You may even want to write or draw it so you can become familiar and comfortable with it.

    The point is to look at it, stay with, and learn about it.

    3. Pause and reflect.

    When we’re in a conflict, we often feel like there’s no choice between the time we feel the strong emotion (such as anger, rage, hatred, or fear) and our response to it (yelling, becoming violent, shutting down, or running away).

    But in reality, by stretching the space between the feelings arising and responding, we can create some room in which we can chose how best to respond.

    So, practice feeling the challenging emotion and not responding right away. If you normally lash out with an angry statement when your partner says or does something you dislike, practice doing something else. Tell your partner you need a moment. Breathe deeply and slowly which will help to calm your nervous system. Go for a walk. Whatever you need to do to calm your distress and choose a more helpful response.

    The more often you do this, the easier it will get to make better choices.

    In this space that you create, reflect on what you’re feeling underneath the reactivity. If you’re feeling like lashing out, what’s underneath that? If you’re angry that your partner forgot to call you on your birthday, is there more to it? Are you feeling hurt, disappointed, or afraid of losing a sense of connection with them? Does it feel familiar? Might it be linked to feelings you had when you were a child?

    Explore the emotion. Give yourself time to figure out what you’re really feeling, what you want, what you desire, and what you’d like to happen in that situation.

    4. Mindfully relate your feelings.

    Once you know what it is you’re really feeling and what you’d like to happen, try relating that in a calm and open way to your partner. If your partner forgot to call you, rather than yell that she doesn’t really care about you at all, maybe you can say, “I’m realizing that I feel hurt that you didn’t call me. I worry that you don’t really care about me. I would like to understand what happened.”

    This will help you and your partner connect with one another, open yourselves up to one another in a more authentic way, and share your true feelings and experiences. This way, you are less likely to fall into old patterns where you may trigger one another and cause each other pain.

    By being vulnerable, open, and unafraid to express your true self, you’ll connect better to your romantic partner and you can develop a better understanding of what you want in your relationship.

    I speak from experience. Once I learned how to better express my emotions and what they were saying to me, I decided that I wanted a partner who would be willing to do that as well. I made the painful decision to end a 5-year relationship I’d been in which was full of conflict and, on a deep level, I knew wasn’t all that I longed for.

    But in doing so, in listening to and trusting my feelings, I was able to move forward and eventually meet my husband, with whom I’ve found the space disentangle myself from my old wiring and have a healthier, satisfying relationship. To love and be loved like I mean it.

  • How to Break Painful Relationship Patterns

    How to Break Painful Relationship Patterns

    “Until you heal your past, your life patterns and relationships will continue to be the same; it’s just the faces that change.” ~Unknown

    First of all: honey, you are not broken. We are all works in process. There is nothing inherently wrong with you. We all end up in a loop here and there. Sometimes it’s because we haven’t healed pain from the past. And sometimes it’s because we’ve healed our pain but still hold on to past habits. When we do this, past habits will promote the replaying of past events and, therefore, the pain will return.

    This happens at a psychological and practical level. The type of beliefs we have about reality will shape the way we perceive it, react to it, and interpret it. This is a neurological reality that has been proven scientifically: the brain creates concepts and finds ways to validate them.

    This is the way prejudice is built, but is also the way you expect sweetness and tartness out of an apple.

    The moment you read the word “apple,” you already started generating the necessary enzymes to digest one and enjoy its flavor. You already started reacting to something that isn’t even here, based on the concepts (beliefs) the brain (mind) has constructed on it according to previous experiences.

    This is one of the many ways science has validated that “life is an illusion.” This is great news. It means we can choose, in a way, what kind of illusion to believe in and, consequently, co-create in our lives.

    Past experiences—especially our childhood experiences—inevitably shape this concept-system in the brain. They create what we refer to as a value system in the mind. These, in turn, determine our thinking habits. The thinking habits will define how we speak and act.

    In other words, the way we perceive apples will determine how we react to them or even the idea of them.

    If you believe that you should expect sweetness out of apples, you will seek apples that provide sweetness, and you will react by preparing to enjoy the sweetness, which will allow you to do so at a higher level than if your body didn’t salivate and prep your taste buds for it. By expecting sweetness, you get to experience it with heightened senses when you get it.

    This idea also applies to unpleasant concepts. This is also a neurological reality and was designed as a survival mechanism.

    Go get your ears pierced and you will see what I mean. When you get ears pierced the first one is barely perceivable. However, the next one hurts quite a bit. Why? Because the brain was expecting pain; therefore, it reacted to the second experience with a concept of pain.

    You think, “This will hurt,” and, therefore, you experience more pain. The tool is still the same. The pressure did not change. Reality is the same as with the first one; however, your brain constructs a concept of pain, so that’s what you get.

    Your earlobes will heal within six weeks. But when you expect unpleasantness out of other life experiences, that’s what you will repeatedly get. In order to produce change, we must let go of a value system that constructs realities of pain and difficulty. This truth is evident in relationship dynamics as well.

    The Loop: What We Think About Relationships Defines How We Experience Them

    I want to make a disclosure about what you are about to read: taking responsibility for your thinking habits and how those affect what you expect from relationships does not mean that anything is your “fault.” It also should not be used to justify abuse.

    Abuse is not justifiable. However, as a survivor of abuse, I can say from experience that it’s actually empowering to realize how much is in my power. I can change how I think, how I talk, how I perceive situations, and how I react to them. I can co-create my relationships.

    I happened to grow up in a culture of fear. I grew up thinking work had to be hard, people had to be in a bad mood when they got home, marriages are meant to be hard, and you should not expect the best, ever; you needed to expect the worst.

    I was married for almost eight years and got divorced a year ago. Since then, I’ve found myself making similar mistakes in the way I seek partners, and all of my relationships have ended up leaving me drained and resentful. But why? I was doing what I thought was supposed to be done: I was being of service in a relationship where one person needed to be saved and I could be their savior.

    There are so many memes out there with the phrase “You saved me” phrase on them. It’s supposed to be romantic! Well, that did not go so well for me. It bred unhealthy and unbalanced relationships, and an environment of codependence that led to pain for both people.

    So I went on a quest for my own healing and discovered why I was constantly trying to save the people I date (more on this later). Finally, I was ready to get out there again. But this time, there was no saving involved. Because I was ready for a healthy relationship. I was at peace.

    I went on a first date with a wonderful man I’d met on a dating app. Before leaving, I called a friend to share how excited I was. She suggested that I calm down, keep “low expectations,” and keep my guard up. I decided not to follow that advice. It comes from a place of good intentions, but it’s really a chain of fear.

    On a vibrational level, to act that way would not allow me to attract my highest good. On a practical level, it would set me up to not look for the best in this person, which would produce a reality where I would be unable to see it even if it hit me in the face.

    I went in there with the same attitude I approach everything currently: at peace. No negative or positive expectations. Just being in the present moment.

    I ended up having the best date of my entire life and building a deep connection with my now-partner.

    We cheat ourselves out of wonder if we tiptoe around in life afraid to get hurt. We must be strong and self-confident to allow ourselves to expect goodness. I did not get here right away. It does take practice to make progress. But it really doesn’t have to be considered an “impossible” in our brains.

    How to Hijack Your Way Out of the Loop and Start Flowing Upward!

    These are some of the things that helped me heal and rewire my brain before I finally downloaded the dating app, posted a cute picture of myself, and hoped only for the best.

    1. Observe your thoughts. What are they based on? Which beliefs no longer serve you?

    A tool that helped me greatly in this step was John Bradshaw’s book Home Coming: Reclaiming and Championing Your Inner Child, which includes exercises to heal past experiences. This releases the brain to freely create new constructs and prevents us from staying on a loop.

    I was having trouble as an adult voicing my needs. I would be terrified and would be physically unable to communicate what I needed.

    During my work with myself I discovered that when I was four years old, I was so terrified of being physically and emotionally abused by my caregivers that when I was hungry, I would not dare voice that need. I have memories of hiding in a cabinet eating raw rice from a bag in order to feed myself without being a “bad girl” and bothering my caregivers.

    I recognized then that this was why I fell into a pattern of focusing on my partners’ needs and trying to save them: I was expecting that it would be painful if I voiced what I needed.

    So, I recognized the source of the problem, now what?

    2. Release the vibrational memory of emotional baggage.

    Once you recognize the roots it will be time to release their emotional baggage. That way you won’t be triggered by old stuff in your new relationship. In other words, you won’t fall into the same old patterns because you’re driven by emotions from the past.

    There are many ways to release emotional baggage, including meditation, Emotional Freedom Technique (EFT) tapping, Mental Emotional Release (MER) therapy, and journaling. Explore, experiment, and find what works for you.

    I went to an Emotional Release Body Balance therapy specialist. It’s the best investment I’d ever made in my life.

    I also engaged in regular cleansing rituals with sage at home.

    Finally, I used release affirmations and prayers daily. One that especially worked for me was a Unity prayer that states: “I release from me all energies that are contrary to what I am creating for myself. I cut them off and release them to the Universe to transform into beneficial forms of energy. I now fill myself with love, peace, and perfect health.”

    Okay, I am no longer controlled by emotions from my painful past, what’s next?

    3. Learn new skills.

    This is the ongoing step. It requires our willingness to learn new skills. New thoughts. New ways of communicating, new brain constructs about relationships, and new ways of having faith in ourselves and others. In my case, this meant learn to voice my needs instead of stifling myself in fear.

    To accomplish this, I attended virtual classes. I enrolled in a communication workshop and practiced those skills. It was just like learning how to read: practice, review, assess, practice again. You will need support here. Someone to practice with. I do so with my best friend. We exchange notes and debrief with one another.

    The skills you need to learn will depend on what you ascertained about your beliefs and expectations and what pattern you fell into as a result of them. It doesn’t matter if you attend classes, read books, practice with friends, or join a support group. What matters is that you do something to learn and strengthen the skills that will help you break your pattern.

    But… why?!

    Now, why go through all this? Baby, ‘cause you are worth it! Plus, there is no magical soul mate in the Universe who will heal your low self-worth concepts and create positive expectations of healthy relationships in your brain.

    You either do the work you need to complete on yourself before you get out there, or you will be stuck in an ongoing loop of pain, with a list of exes that turn out the be the same dog with a different collar, calling them “toxic” instead of owning your own need for growth.

    I’m rooting for you. I bless your journey. The best is already within you. What you want in a partner is out there looking for you as well. May you find each other at the right time and may you have the skills to enjoy your union. Ashe!*

    *Ashe is a West African philosophical concept through which the Yoruba of Nigeria conceive the power to make things happen and produce change.

  • The Key to Breaking Painful, Unhealthy Relationship Patterns

    The Key to Breaking Painful, Unhealthy Relationship Patterns

    Sad girl with heart

    “Forgiveness is just another name for freedom.” ~Byron Katie

    Aside from the fact that I was born on Groundhog Day, I didn’t know why I kept falling into the same relationship patterns, which inevitably led to heart-crushing breakups.

    I knew that I had a deep capacity to love, or so I thought, but it somehow wasn’t enough. I always ended up either feeling taken for granted or fighting desperately for my partner’s attention after the initial attraction phase wore off.

    I couldn’t help becoming someone else, someone I thought I needed to be in order to avoid being abandoned. This, of course, backfired, because it further lowered my self-esteem and caused me become even clingier and more neurotic.

    It was hard to not get down on myself for who I became in relationships. I didn’t know how to process the end of a relationship or how to separate what was my partner’s emotional stuff and what was mine, so I walked into the next relationship with accumulated anger, resentments, and taller walls around my heart.

    It was easier to blame the guy for being emotionally unavailable, withdrawn, selfish, and all the other names I called him. This went on for over a decade.

    Still, somehow my divorce was peaceful, and at times I even called my ex-husband in despair after a breakup, crying, “He doesn’t want me anymore.”

    He’d jokingly say, “Well, you shouldn’t have divorced me.”

    I knew what he meant. And I knew why I called him. It was the only relationship that didn’t blow up in my face at the end. I needed to see that I wasn’t a complete and utter mess and that I had something good to offer in a relationship, even if it didn’t last forever. We were able to remain friends who talked a few times a year.

    After my third heartbreak, I knew that something had to give. I became very depressed and lost hope for being able to have a happy relationship that didn’t end in divorce or a dramatic breakup.

    I kept asking the Universe, “Why am I not healing? What is wrong with me? Why do I end up falling in love with unavailable men and then clinging onto them for dear life?”

    I prayed all day, every day. My hope was eroding fast and my self-rejection was growing by leaps and bounds.

    The answer came in the form of one word: forgiveness.

    To be honest, I was not interested in forgiving anything or anyone. I wouldn’t even know where to begin or who to forgive. Instead, I just added more toxicity to my pain by letting resentments turn to hate. This gave me a false sense of power and the illusion of protection from further pain, disappointment, deception, and betrayal. I felt like I’d had enough of all of these.

    In my mind, forgiveness meant that I would die without receiving compensation for the ways I’d been wronged. That was just not okay.

    I sat on my throne of righteous indignation for a few more weeks. In the meantime, I was twisted up in knots over the guilt I felt from having hurt all my partners, which I didn’t know what to do with either.

    I wrote an email to my last boyfriend, which he didn’t respond to. That hurt even more. I got to feel what it’s like to not be forgiven for the mistakes you’ve made.

    Non-forgiveness may feel like power and protection, but it ends up becoming a lonely, self-made prison cell. At that point, I knew that I was creating more unhappiness and loneliness for myself.

    I finally gave in. Even though it took weeks for my ego to calm down and open to the idea of looking at who and what I needed to forgive, the thought alone started to make me feel lighter.

    Since my biggest pain revolved around men, I started with my father.

    In my last three relationships, I had relived the trauma I’d experienced with my dad.

    My father loved his younger sister more than any of us and was never shy about expressing it. As a little girl, I watched my father adore my aunt in ways I longed to be adored by him. She was a grown woman, only eight years younger than him, but he treated her like his beloved little girl he would bend over backward to please.

    What I got was mostly scolding, angry, disapproving eyes from him. I knew that he was capable of offering love to someone, but that someone was not me. My aunt had already filled that spot before I was born (not her fault) and there was nothing I could do to be daddy’s little girl.

    I felt helpless. He was the only father I had, and I was too young to seek other solutions.

    Of course, the men I fell in love with played this part really well: They all had a former lover they couldn’t get over, they had a wandering eye that left me feeling as if I weren’t enough for them, or they were burned out from showering their former partners with adoration and getting hurt in the end.

    They were wounded by those partners (and possibly their own mothers), so they either didn’t know how to connect intimately with a woman and commit to her, or they were too burned to risk going there again. Regardless, I was getting the short end of the stick despite how much I loved them.

    As I wrote my story, I started seeing the threads. I prayed for this pattern to be healed and lifted up from my consciousness, burned the pages along with it, and let go of the outcome.

    I waited for the process to start working and watched for signs. Nothing seemed different for a while. I was still grieving and feeling remorse for my own mistakes.

    Then I realized that I had to process my “love story” from the vantage point of my former lovers and forgive myself as well. The other side of the non-forgiveness medal was guilt. Both were toxic and blocks to my happiness.

    So I wrote about my mistakes and again asked the Universe to give me a clean slate. At this point, knowing that there was nothing I could do, I put all my focus on caring for myself and making plans to achieve my goals. I wasn’t in charge of the Universe and couldn’t dictate when the healing was supposed to come.

    A few days later my last partner called and said that he wanted to have a heart-to-heart conversation with me. I didn’t know whether he wanted to yell at me or talk about patching things up, but I agreed to meet. I had nothing to lose.

    I called a good friend and told him what had happened and all about my forgiveness process. As I was telling him the story, it felt as if the person who was talking was not me. My words were softer; there wasn’t a trace of anger or blame left in them.

    I heard myself say, “It’s no one’s fault, you know. We are all trying to find healing. Even my father. He didn’t know how to be with his daughter. His relationship with my aunt was safe. For some reason it was in the cards for me to experience that neglect so I could use it for something greater.”

    In that moment I felt my heart open. I saw the walls around my heart melt away in my mind’s eye. He was quiet for the longest minute. Then he said, “Banu, this is the most loving thing I have ever heard you say. I am speechless.”

    I can’t explain what a miracle is, but I now know they exist.

    My former partner and I had our talk, and I was able to hear his side without getting defensive or attacking back. I was no longer looking at him and seeing my dad. I could just see Jim as Jim, as the man I love and as someone whose healing I could contribute to by giving him the gift of seeing who he truly is.

    After our talk, as we started spending time together, I found myself actually seeing him for the first time. He was freed from the role he had to play for me in order to get to this place of forgiveness. He was free to be himself.

    The future of us? Who knows? We decided to take it one day at a time and rebuild trust. I no longer feel the need to make him do or be anything.

    My heart is at peace knowing that I now have something more to offer in a relationship than my projections and resentments from the past, which have nothing to do with the person I am relating to. I have to tell you, I feel like a new person.

    Your pain served a purpose and brought you to this place where you can also recognize your own patterns, if you’re willing to look for them. In a way, those unhealthy relationships were gifts because they provided clues as to what needs healing in your life. So give forgiveness a chance. That is the only way to wipe your slate clean.

    Recognize that we are all perfectly imperfect—we’re all working through our own patterns and trying to heal our pain—and that forgiveness is the biggest gift you can give yourself and anyone. I hope that you can have this. You are worth it.

    Sad girl with heart image via Shutterstock

  • How Complaining Keeps Us Stuck in Relationships That Don’t Work

    How Complaining Keeps Us Stuck in Relationships That Don’t Work

    Couple in Prison

    “As I began to love myself I found that anguish and emotional suffering are only warning signs that I was living against my own truth.” ~Charlie Chaplin

    When I was eight years old my father burst into my room in the middle of the night, high on drugs, and threw my dresser drawers all over the place.

    “Stop your crying!” he screamed. “Stop your crying!”

    There was a crazy man in my room and I was terrified.

    “Now clean up this mess!”

    I was shaking. What on earth could I have possibly done to deserve this? With a slam of the door he was gone.

    For years my father annihilated me like this. He shamed me in public and raged at me behind closed doors. He was emotionally abusive and sometimes physical too.

    He taught me to believe that everyone was out to get me and that everything was my fault. He taught me to believe that I was a worthless piece of you-know-what and that I didn’t deserve any better. Seriously, how else is an eight-year-old supposed to interpret this kind of adult behavior?

    Raise of the hand, excuse me, Dad, but what you’re doing is messing me up for the long run. I was a kid. I assumed I was getting the parenting and love I deserved.

    Growing up I took what my father taught me out into the world and perfected it. The first girlfriend I ever had cheated on me with another man, yet I stayed with her because I thought I didn’t deserve any better.

    My best thinking (at the time) told me that nobody else would ever love me, so I stayed and allowed her to treat me badly.

    I lived in a one-bedroom apartment for four years even though every time I needed something fixed the landlord would yell at me. She would yell at me as if I was the problem, yet I stayed and paid my rent each and every month on time. I had no self to esteem and allowed her to treat me poorly.

    See my pattern? I stay in and return to painful, destructive relationships. In fact, I’m in one right now.

    I have stayed in the same painful relationship for the past thirteen years. It’s a relationship that no longer works for me, yet I keep going back to it as if one day, magically, things will change. Shake of the head, things never change.

    I have been yelled at, threatened, and taken advantage of. I’m undervalued, underappreciated, and constantly miserable. Take, take, take, that’s all the other side does.

    Each day leaves me emotionally drained, mentally distraught, and in a fowl mood. It’s obviously an unhealthy relationship, yet I stay because my stinking thinking tells me I don’t deserve anything better. I’m talking about my job.

    I hate my job. Okay, maybe hate is a little over the top. Let’s just say I don’t like my job.

    Yet each day I get up, shower, put on my uniform, and return. Voluntarily, mind you. And that makes me sad.

    Sad because by staying, I’m allowing myself to be that scared little eight-year-old all over again. By staying, I’m telling myself that I’m not good enough and that I don’t deserve anything better. I’m ‘parenting’ myself the same way I was parented by my father.

    I should’ve left my first girlfriend when she cheated on me, but I didn’t know how to take care of myself then, so I stayed. A healthy person with healthy boundaries would’ve been out of there. I wasn’t healthy.

    I should’ve told my landlord that it wasn’t okay to yell at me, but I didn’t and I stayed. I didn’t have the tools to stand up for myself and therefore allowed her to bully me.

    We do this, don’t we? We stay in and or return to painful destructive relationships when we deserve so much more. We do this with family members, boyfriends/girlfriends, friends, and yes, we even do this with jobs.

    But why? What’s the payoff for staying? (Trust me, there’s always a payoff.)

    For me, it’s about sympathy, which fuels my low self-esteem. If I complain loudly enough someone will ultimately sympathize with me, which in return validates my pain. Look at me, I’m a victim! 

    Trust me when I tell you, I complain a lot. I complain at the bank, while driving in my car, at work, at the movies, at home, on vacation, at the grocery store, and so on. All so I can validate my childhood belief that I don’t deserve any better.

    In the process I’ve created a reality that coincides with my thoughts. A reality that looks a lot like my childhood. Argh.

    Deep sigh. I’m tired of being a victim. It’s exhausting and it’s gotten me nowhere.

    Folks, this isn’t about my job or a past girlfriend or landlord, this is about me. It’s about me not being a victim anymore and learning to love myself in return. When my emotional suffering goes away, I’ll have the strength to walk away from things that aren’t serving me instead of complaining.

    If I stop complaining, what am I left with? Me, just me.

    And that right there is the gift! Getting a chance to be with just me. To love and affirm me.

    Talk about an amazing opportunity for growth. If I’m working at being the best me I can possibly be, I’m doing myself a disservice by wasting time complaining. We all are.

    Complaining doesn’t change anything. It just keeps us stuck, victimized, repeating old patterns and unable to change them. The alternative? Take responsibility for our part, forgive ourselves for the patterns we’ve perpetuated, treat ourselves with the love and respect we know we deserve, and begin to make positive changes in our lives.

    So what’s my next right action? Well, just for today I’m going to see if I can go twenty-four hours without complaining and at the very least stop/catch myself if I start to. I’m also going to be grateful for what I have in my life, which is a lot.

    Gratitude list here I come! I deserve the good stuff. We all do.

    Couple in prison image via Shutterstock

  • Change Your Patterns and Stop Sabotaging Relationships

    Change Your Patterns and Stop Sabotaging Relationships

    “Jealousy is nothing more than a fear of abandonment.” ~Unknown

    My biggest relationship fear used to be getting dumped for another woman.

    If it actually happened, it was going to be the ultimate proof of my worthlessness.

    It wasn’t easy to live with that fear. When it came to conjuring up scenarios of loss and pain, I was like a rag doll in the hands of my imagination.

    Even if my partner did not leave me or intend to cheat on me, the fear of being abandoned turned me into a person the man I was with no longer recognized.

    It was almost as if the woman he’d met and was attracted to, who’d responded to him with passion, interest, and adoration, had turned into the nightmare girlfriend that he had read about in men’s community forums.

    My fear, hiding in the closet like an imaginary monster, made me extremely jealous, paranoid, manipulative, and controlling.

    It was limiting my experience of life and preventing me from truly opening my heart to my partner.

    I didn’t like who I had become, and the less I liked myself the more I would depend on my partner to feel good about myself. He would energetically feel this pressure and withdraw, which then would trigger my fear of abandonment even more. It was a vicious cycle that I could not end.

    I was aware of these side effects but I didn’t have the courage to face it. I had underestimated the magnetic energy of my fear.

    I was a walking self-fulfilling prophecy. Maybe it was just dumb luck that I attracted men who would help me work through my biggest fear. Or we can call it perfect divine timing and order. I personally choose the latter.

    The men I attracted were intelligent, creative, talented, fun, and sexy. I wasn’t the only one who saw those qualities. Other women were drawn to them like bees to honey.

    It would not have been a problem if these men had confidence and didn’t feed off the energy coming from these women. I was tortured with suspicion. I cried, screamed, yelled, threatened, and did whatever I could, but I was unable to change the men.

    These relationships turned into a huge source of stress—for me and for them.

    I knew I couldn’t live like that anymore. I wanted to stare the fear in the eye and feel its cold breath on my face so that it would not have control over me anymore.

    Once I recognized what I was doing, I began identifying outdated perspectives and beliefs that didn’t contribute to healthy relationships. Reviewing this short list may lead you to your own a-ha moments.

    1. Be willing to be honest with yourself.

    I could have avoided so much stress if I was willing to face my fear of abandonment. Instead, I shoved it into the back of my subconscious and pretended it was all my partner’s fault.

    Eventually, it got too big to keep it under wraps. What we don’t know—or don’t want to know—can actually hurt us.

    2. Recognize your love script.

    We all have a love script ingrained in us that we unconsciously follow. If this script keeps bringing us pain and disappointment, we may have to pay more attention to what we’re doing and why.

    Do you always go for women who have a lingering interest in another person?

    Do you pick the guy who has a fun personality but still lives with his parents and can’t take care of himself financially?

    Now look for other constants and pull from your family history to make connections. Your love script will reveal itself. Once you see it, it will all make sense.

    3. Know that your expectations, not other people, cause disappointment.

    Some of our expectations are not realistic, and in some cases, it isn’t our partner’s job to meet them.

    Not knowing our expectations is a deadly trap that creates tension and resentment.

    I felt shame when I tried to say, “But you didn’t call me after work before you went off to have drinks with your co-workers.” So instead, I would do the same to him in order to give him a taste of his own medicine.

    He had no idea that I expected that from him. He would have, if I had known it myself and communicated it. But I didn’t. Instead, I reacted. Deep inside I knew that it was an act of control and it was childish. My hidden expectations slowly pulled us apart.

    4. Realize you’re not the center of your partner’s world.

    It sucks to find out that the world doesn’t revolve around you, doesn’t it? I used to think, “You mean, you don’t think of me all the time, fantasize about me, hang onto my every word, and see eye to eye with me on all areas of life? Wow, I thought you loved me.”

    The truth is, they are their own person and they are having their own life experience. No matter how much they love us, we are still playing a role in their life, and aren’t their whole life.

    For how long and how well we play that role is up to how each person does the relationship and lets the other person be themselves without trying to control or change them.

    —

    If we are unable to look at ourselves and be honest about our pain and how that fuels our behavior, we will keep repeating the same patterns.

    I don’t know about you, but that got old for me, and I had to own my own fear of abandonment in order to untangle myself from this pattern. I am glad that I did.

    Now, if I feel insecure in a relationship, I just think, “Oh, it’s that old fear again” and stay present. Now I feel like an adult most of the time instead of like a child who fears abandonment. It has made a whole world of difference for me, and it could for you as well.

    Unhappy couple image via Shutterstock

  • Recognizing Our Patterns and Learning How to Change Them

    Recognizing Our Patterns and Learning How to Change Them

    “What we call chaos is just patterns we haven’t recognized. What we call random is just patterns we can’t decipher.” ~Chuck Palahniuk 

    Life has a funny way of teaching us lessons. When there is something you need to learn, something that you need to work on, the same situation will continue to repeat itself until you either learn your lesson or find a healthy way of dealing with that particular issue.

    Think of the movie Groundhog Day. It was one of my favorites. Once Bill Murray realized that he was living the same day over and over again, he came up with ways to fix the things that went wrong before.

    He learned how to fix the relationship with the object of his affection. He even learned to deal better with the annoying insurance salesman who approached him every morning.

    It wasn’t until he learned to accept his fate that the cycle of reliving each day ended. He also became more compassionate and more sympathetic—an overall better version of himself.

    I hear people say: Why do I keep going through the same things in relationships? I’m with different people, but things always end up being the same, or they act just like someone who I used to know.

    Some of these people give up, some get stuck in a vicious cycle of their own making, and others don’t even realize that they are basically chasing their tail, repeating the same situation over and over.

    Recently, I found myself in a pattern of attraction. It took some time for me to understand it. I had a hard time coming to terms with my divorce, and for years I wanted a second chance in that area of my life. A new start. A new marriage.

    Only problem was that when I did come across someone I liked, he was unavailable—already in a relationship or emotionally unavailable to me, and therefore, unwilling to participate in a relationship with me.

    I went through a period of time when the only guys who asked me out were either married or in a relationship of some type, live-in or on-and-off with a current girlfriend.

    Instead of pursuing those situations (for obvious reasons) I would instead go for the single, yet emotionally unavailable guy. And I would try to win him over, to no avail, trying to prove that I was “good enough.”

    It wasn’t until recently that I had an “a ha” moment, in which I realized that the critic I was trying to “prove myself” to was not someone else. It was me—the inner critic who still had not come to terms with the dissolution of my marriage and considered it a complete failure.

    My thought process was: If I could turn this person around or make this person change his mind and love me, then I would be worthy of love. (more…)