Tiny Buddha

Tag: perfection

  • The Power of Imperfect Work in an AI-Driven, Perfection-Obsessed World

    The Power of Imperfect Work in an AI-Driven, Perfection-Obsessed World

    “Have no fear of perfection—you’ll never reach it.” ~Salvador Dalí

    We live in a world that worships polish.

    Perfect photos on Instagram. Seamless podcasts with no awkward pauses. Articles that read like they’ve passed through a dozen editors.

    And now, with AI tools that can produce mistake-free writing in seconds, the bar feels even higher. Machines can generate flawless sentences, perfect grammar, and shiny ideas on demand. Meanwhile, I’m over here second-guessing a paragraph, rewriting the same sentence six different ways, and still wondering if “Best” or “Warmly” is the less awkward email sign-off.

    It’s easy to feel like our messy, human work doesn’t measure up.

    I’ve fallen into that trap plenty of times. I’ve delayed publishing because “it’s not ready.” I’ve rerecorded podcasts because I stumbled on a word. I’ve tweaked and reformatted things no one else would even notice.

    Perfectionism whispers: If it isn’t flawless, don’t share it.

    But over time, I’ve learned something else: imperfection is not a liability. It’s the whole point.

    A Table Full of Flaws

    One of the best lessons I’ve ever learned about imperfection came not from writing or technology, but from woodworking.

    About a decade ago, I decided to build a dining table. I spent hours measuring, cutting, sanding, and staining. I wanted it to be perfect.

    But here’s the truth about woodworking: nothing ever turns out perfect. Ever.

    That table looks solid from across the room. But if you step closer, you’ll notice the flaws. The board I mismeasured by a quarter inch. The corner I over-sanded. The stain that didn’t set evenly.

    At first, I saw those flaws as failures. Proof that I wasn’t skilled enough, patient enough, or careful enough.

    But then something surprising happened. My wife walked into the room, saw the finished table, and said she loved it. She didn’t see the mistakes. She saw something that had been made with love and care.

    And slowly, I began to see it that way, too.

    That table isn’t just furniture. It’s proof of effort, process, and patience. It carries my fingerprints, my sweat, and my imperfect humanity.

    And here’s the kicker: it’s way more fulfilling than anything mass-produced or manufactured as machine-perfect.

    Why Imperfection Connects Us

    That table taught me something AI never could: flaws tell a story.

    Machines can produce flawless outputs, but they can’t create meaning. They can’t replicate the pride of sanding wood with your own hands or the laughter around a table that wobbled for the first month.

    Imperfections are what make something ours. They carry our fingerprints, quirks, and lived experiences.

    In contrast, perfection is sterile. It might be impressive, but it rarely feels alive.

    Think about the things that move us most—a friend’s vulnerable story, a laugh that turns into a snort, a talk where the speaker loses their train of thought but recovers with honesty. When was the last time you felt closest to someone? Chances are, it wasn’t when they were polished, it was when they were real. Those moments connect us precisely because they are imperfect.

    They remind us we’re not alone in our flaws.

    The AI Contrast

    AI dazzles us because it never stutters. It never doubts. It never sends an awkward text or spills coffee on its keyboard. AI can do flawless. But flawless isn’t the same as meaningful.

    But here’s what it doesn’t do:

    • It doesn’t feel the mix of pride and embarrassment in showing someone your wobbly table.
    • It doesn’t understand the joy of cooking a meal that didn’t go exactly to plan.
    • It doesn’t know what it’s like to hit “publish” while your stomach churns with nerves, only to get a message later that says, “This made me feel less alone.”

    Flawlessness might be a machine’s strength. But humanity is ours.

    The very things I used to try to hide—the quirks, the rough edges, the imperfections—are the things that make my work worth sharing.

    A Different Kind of Readiness

    I used to think I needed to wait until something was “ready.” The blog post polished just right. The podcast that’s perfectly edited. The message refined until it couldn’t possibly be criticized.

    But I’ve learned that readiness is a mirage. It’s often just perfectionism in disguise.

    The truth is, most of the things that resonated most with people—my most-downloaded podcast episode, the articles that readers emailed me about months later—were the ones I almost didn’t share. The ones that felt too messy, too vulnerable, too real.

    And yet, those are the ones people said, “This is exactly what I needed to hear.”

    Not the flawless ones. The human ones.

    How We Can Embrace Imperfection

    I’m not saying it’s easy. Perfectionism is sneaky. It wears the disguise of “high standards” or “being thorough.”

    Here’s what I’ve found helps me. Not rules, but reminders I keep returning to:

    Share before you feel ready.If it feels 80% good enough, release it. The last 20% is often just endless polishing.

    Reframe mistakes as stories.My table’s flaws? Now they’re conversation starters. What mistakes of yours might carry meaning, too?

    Notice where imperfection builds connection.The things that make people feel closer to you usually aren’t the shiny parts. They’re the honest ones.

    The Bigger Picture

    We live in a culture obsessed with speed, optimization, and polish. AI accelerates that pressure. It tempts us to compete on machine terms: flawless, instant, infinite.

    But that’s not the game we’re meant to play.

    Our advantage—our only real advantage—is that we’re human. We bring nuance, empathy, humor, vulnerability, and lived experience.

    Robots don’t laugh until they snort. They don’t ugly cry during Pixar movies. They don’t mismeasure wood or forget to use the wood glue and build a table that their partner loves anyway.

    You do. I do. That’s the point.

    So maybe we don’t need to sand down every rough edge. Perhaps we don’t need to hide every flaw.

    Because when the world is flooded with flawless, machine-polished work, the imperfect, human things will stand out.

    And those are the things people will remember.

  • What Happened When I Stopped Expecting Perfection from Myself

    What Happened When I Stopped Expecting Perfection from Myself

    “There is no amount of self-improvement that can make up for a lack of self-acceptance.” ~Robert Holden

    Six years ago, I forgot it was picture day at my daughter’s school. She left the house in a sweatshirt with a faint, unidentifiable stain and hair still bent from yesterday’s ponytail.

    The photographer probably spent less than ten seconds on her photo, but I spent hours replaying the morning in my head, imagining her years later looking at that picture and believing her mother had not tried hard enough.

    It’s strange how small moments can lodge themselves in memory. Even now, when life is smooth, that picture sometimes drifts back. The difference is that I no longer treat it as proof that I am careless or unloving. I see it as a reminder that no one gets it all right, no matter how hard they try.

    I tend to hold on to my “failures” long after everyone else has let them go. My daughter has never mentioned that photo, and one day, if she becomes a mother, she might discover that small imperfections are not proof of neglect. They can be a kind of grace.

    For most of my life, I thought being a good person meant being relentlessly self-critical. I stayed up too late worrying over things no one else noticed, like an unanswered text or a dusty shelf before company arrived. Sometimes I replayed conversations until I found the exact moment I could have been warmer or wiser.

    The list was endless, and my self-worth seemed to hinge on how perfectly I performed in every role. Somewhere along the way, I started expecting myself to already know how to do everything right. But this is the first time I have lived this exact day, with this exact set of challenges and choices.

    It is the first time parenting a child this age. The first time navigating friendships in this season. The first time balancing today’s responsibilities with today’s emotions.

    The shift came on a day when nothing seemed to go my way. I missed an appointment I had no excuse for missing, realized too late that I had forgotten to order my friend’s birthday gift, and then managed to burn dinner. None of it was catastrophic, but the weight of these small failures began to gather, as they always did, into a heaviness in my chest.

    I could feel myself leaning toward the familiar spiral of self-reproach when I happened to glance across the room and see my daughter. And in that instant, a thought surfaced: What if I spoke to myself the way I would speak to her if she had made these same mistakes?

    I knew exactly what I would say. I would remind her that being human means sometimes getting it wrong. I would tell her that one day’s mistakes do not erase years of love.

    I would make sure she knew she was still good, still worthy, and still enough. So I tried saying it to myself, out loud. “We all make mistakes.”

    The words felt clumsy, almost unnatural, like I was finally trying to speak the language I had only just begun to learn. But something inside softened just enough for me to take a breath and let the day end without carrying all its weight into tomorrow.

    Self-compassion has not made me careless. It has made me steadier. When I stop spending my energy on shame, I have more of it for the people and priorities that matter.

    Research confirms this truth. Self-compassion is not about lowering standards. It is about building the emotional safety that allows us to keep showing up without fear.

    And here is what I have learned about actually practicing it. Self-compassion is not a single thought or mantra. It’s a habit, one you build the same way you would strength or endurance.

    It begins with noticing the voice in your head when you make a mistake. Most of us have an internal commentator that sounds less like a mentor and more like a drill sergeant. The work is in catching that voice in the act and then, without forcing a smile or pretending you are not disappointed, speaking to yourself like someone you love.

    Sometimes that means literally saying the words out loud so you can hear the tone. Sometimes it means pausing long enough to remember you are still learning. Sometimes it means choosing kindness even when shame feels easier.

    It also helps to remember what self-compassion is not. It is not excusing harmful behavior or ignoring areas where we want to grow. It is acknowledging that growth happens more easily in a climate of patience than in one of punishment.

    The science supports this. When we practice self-kindness, our stress response begins to quiet, and our nervous system has a chance to settle. This does not just feel better in the moment; it makes it easier to think clearly and choose our next step.

    I’ve noticed other changes as well. Self-compassion makes me braver. When I’m not terrified of berating myself if I fall short, I am more willing to try something new.

    I take risks in conversations. I admit when I do not know something. I start things without obsessing over how they’ll end, and when mistakes inevitably happen, I don’t have to waste days recovering from my own criticism.

    Sometimes self-compassion is quiet, like putting your phone down when you begin to spiral through mental replays. Sometimes it is active, like deciding to stop apologizing for being human. Sometimes it is physical, like unclenching your jaw or placing a hand on your chest as you breathe.

    Over time, these small gestures add up. They rewire the way you respond to yourself, replacing the reflex of blame with the reflex of care.

    We are all walking into each day for the first time. Of course we will miss a detail or lose our patience. Of course we will get things wrong.

    But when we meet ourselves with kindness instead of condemnation, we remind ourselves that love, whether for others or for ourselves, has never depended on perfection.

    And that lesson will last far longer than any perfect picture.

  • The Art of Being Flawed in a Perfectionist World

    The Art of Being Flawed in a Perfectionist World

    “Perfection is not attainable, but if we chase perfection, we can catch excellence.” ~Vince Lombardi

    Okay, let’s be real for a second. As I sit here trying to write this perfect essay about embracing imperfection, the irony isn’t lost on me. I’ve rewritten this opening paragraph about five times now. Old habits die hard, right?

    Picture this: It’s 2:37 p.m. on a Wednesday afternoon. I’m pacing the lecture hall, watching my law students furiously scribbling away at their exam papers. Their furrowed brows and white-knuckle grips on their pens remind me of, well, me, not too long ago.

    Flashback to my own law school days. There I was, the quintessential overachiever. Nose perpetually buried in a casebook, surviving on a diet of coffee and sheer determination. Perfect grades, perfect internships, perfect career trajectory—these weren’t just goals, they were my entire identity. The pressure I put on myself was so intense, I’m surprised my hair didn’t turn gray by graduation. (Spoiler alert: It’s starting to now, but I digress.)

    Fast-forward to my transition from practicing law to teaching it. I thought I had it all figured out. Professor Kalyani Abhyankar, the flawless legal mind, here to shape the next generation of lawyers. Ha! If only I knew what I was in for.

    It was during one particularly “memorable” lecture that my perfectionist facade began to crack. I had spent hours preparing what I thought was a flawless presentation on constitutional law. I was on fire, if I do say so myself, rattling off case citations like a human legal database. And then it happened. I mixed up two landmark cases.

    The horror! The shame! In that moment, I swear I could hear the ghost of Justice Brandeis weeping. I stood there, frozen at the podium, waiting for the ground to swallow me whole.

    But then something unexpected happened. A student raised her hand and asked, “Professor Abhyankar, are you okay?”

    And just like that, the dam broke. All my insecurities came flooding out in front of my class. My fear of not being good enough, the crushing weight of always needing to be perfect, the anxiety that one mistake would unravel my entire career.

    To my utter shock, instead of judgment, I was met with… understanding? Empathy, even? One of my students actually said, “Wow, Prof. We always thought you were this untouchable legal genius. But this… this makes you human. It’s kind of inspiring, actually.”

    Inspiring? Me? The one having a meltdown in front of her class? But as I looked around the room, I saw nodding heads and relieved faces. It was as if by showing my own vulnerability, I had given them permission to be imperfect too.

    This was the beginning of my messy, often frustrating, but ultimately liberating journey toward embracing imperfection. And let me tell you, it wasn’t a smooth ride.

    At first, I tried to schedule “imperfection time” into my day. Yes, you read that right. I, Kalyani Abhyankar, recovering perfectionist, tried to perfect the art of being imperfect. The irony is not lost on me, I assure you.

    There were setbacks galore. I’d resolve to be more laid-back in class, only to find myself obsessively color-coding my lecture notes at 2 AM. I’d promise myself I wouldn’t overthink my students’ questions, then spend hours agonizing over whether my off-the-cuff answer about tort law was comprehensive enough.

    But slowly, oh so slowly, things began to shift. I started to pay attention to my classroom with new eyes. I noticed how the most engaging discussions often arose from questions I couldn’t answer right away. I saw how students learned more from working through mistakes than from memorizing perfect responses.

    Here are some of the changes I stumbled my way through:

    1. Practicing self-compassion

    Instead of berating myself for every perceived failure, I tried to treat myself with the same kindness I’d offer a struggling student. This meant acknowledging my efforts, regardless of the outcome. And yes, sometimes it meant looking in the mirror and saying, “You’re doing okay, Kalyani,” even when I felt like a total impostor.

    2. Setting realistic goals

    Rather than aiming for an impossible standard of perfection, I learned to set challenging but achievable goals. This allowed me to celebrate progress and maintain motivation. Novel concept, right?

    3. Embracing the learning process

    I started to view mistakes—both mine and my students’—not as failures but as valuable teaching moments. Each setback became an opportunity to deepen understanding and foster critical thinking. Who knew that “I don’t know, let’s figure it out together” could be such powerful words in a classroom?

    4. Cultivating a growth mindset

    Instead of seeing legal aptitude as fixed, I began to emphasize to my students (and myself) the capacity to develop skills through effort and practice. This made us all more willing to tackle challenging legal problems, even if we didn’t always get it right the first time.

    5. Letting go of comparison

    I realized that constantly measuring myself against other professors or legal scholars was about as productive as trying to teach constitutional law to my cat. Instead, I focused on my unique strengths as an educator and mentor.

    Now, don’t get me wrong. I still have days where my inner perfectionist rears its meticulously groomed head. I still occasionally find myself up at midnight, agonizing over a single word choice in my lecture notes. Rome wasn’t built in a day, and recovering perfectionists aren’t cured overnight.

    But here’s the kicker: As I’ve learned to embrace my imperfections, I’ve actually become a better professor. Free from the paralysis of perfectionism, I’m more creative in my teaching methods, more willing to tackle controversial legal topics, and more open to feedback from students and colleagues.

    My students seem to prefer this new, slightly messier version of Professor Abhyankar. They’re more engaged, more willing to take risks in their thinking, and—dare I say it—they seem to be having more fun. Who knew that constitutional law could actually be enjoyable?

    To those still caught in the grip of perfectionism, whether in law school, legal practice, or any other field, I offer this hard-won wisdom: Your worth is not determined by flawless performance. There is profound strength in vulnerability, in admitting that you’re still learning and growing.

    Embrace your imperfections. They’re not weaknesses to be hidden but unique aspects of who you are as a professional and human being. Let go of the exhausting chase for perfection and instead, chase growth and authenticity.

    In doing so, you may find that you achieve things far greater than perfection—you achieve a life that is fully and beautifully lived. And if you happen to mix up a few Supreme Court cases along the way? Well, you’re in good company.

  • How to Embrace the Glorious Mess of Everyday Life

    How to Embrace the Glorious Mess of Everyday Life

    “Embrace the glorious mess that you are.” ~Elizabeth Gilbert

    Let’s begin with a simple fact: life is inherently messy. Despite our best efforts to organize, control, and perfect, life has a way of surprising us and tossing our neatly folded plans into disarray. I used to think that if I worked hard enough, if I was good enough, if I did everything right, I could keep the chaos at bay. But life, as it turns out, doesn’t work that way.

    My kitchen, for instance, is a testament to the beautiful chaos of daily living. There are dishes in the sink, crumbs on the counter, and perpetually sticky spots on the floor from toddler and puppy splashes.

    For the longest time, I let these imperfections bother me, believing they were reflections of my failure to maintain control. A sign I was falling short as a mother, a wife, a homeowner, a professional person, an adult. Then one day, I was relieved by a revelation. This mess is not a sign of failure but of life being lived. The chaos is evidence that I am showing up, day after day, doing my best, and this is more than enough.

    The Beauty of Showing Up

    Showing up, as it turns out, is half the battle. We often get so caught up in the pursuit of perfection that we forget the importance of simply being present.

    I have learned that life isn’t a quest for perfection, but a journey of embracing the mess and the inevitable chaos. True beauty lies in finding grace in the everyday moments, those uncelebrated instances that may never make it to Instagram but form the very fabric of our existence.

    For me, this realization came during a particularly difficult period in my life. I was dealing with a career transition, an injury that stopped me from participating in my beloved outlet—running, family issues, and a general sense of being utterly overwhelmed.

    I felt like I was drowning in a sea of responsibilities, unable to keep my head above water. Then, one day, a wise friend gave me a piece of advice that changed everything: “Just show up,” she said. “Show up and do your best. That’s all you can do.”

    Lessons from the Mess

    Embrace Imperfection

    We live in a world that glorifies perfection, but the truth is, perfection is an illusion. Embrace your imperfections, your mistakes, and your failures. They are part of your story and make you who you are.

    The Japanese concept of wabi-sabi, which finds beauty in imperfection, inspires me to accept my flaws and see them as unique marks of my journey. A cracked bowl is repaired with gold and revered for the richness of the story and life it represents. Its imperfections set it apart in beauty, just as yours do.

    Find Beauty in the Ordinary

    Life is made up of small, ordinary moments. Find beauty in these moments, whether it’s the warming way light filters through your kitchen window in the morning or the delightful screech of your child’s laughter. This is what matters.

    One of my most cherished memories is of a simple evening spent baking cookies with my two-year-old son. Flour was everywhere, the cookies were slightly burnt, and my shirt was blotched with butter, but when I let go of my ideal of cleanliness and order, I tapped into a priceless and memorable joy.

    Be Kind to Yourself

    We are often our own harshest critics. Practice self-compassion and be kind to yourself. Acknowledge your efforts and give yourself credit for showing up, even when things are difficult.

    During this tough period, I started a habit of writing myself small notes of encouragement: “You can handle this. You are a good mom. A caring therapist. A worthy person.” It felt awkward at first, but over time, it became a powerful tool for self-kindness.

    Let Go of Control

    Trying to control everything is exhausting and ultimately futile. Let go of the need to control and learn to go with the flow. Trust that things will work out, even if it’s not in the way you expected.

    I used to plan every detail of family vacations, but the most memorable trips were the spontaneous ones, where we let go, embraced the adventure, and followed our curiosities as they surfaced.

    Practical Tips for Embracing the Mess

    Practice Mindfulness

    Mindfulness involves being present in the moment and accepting it without judgment. When you find yourself overwhelmed by the chaos, take a few deep breaths and focus on the present moment. Notice the sights, sounds, and smells around you.

    I started a daily mindfulness practice, spending just two minutes each morning in quiet reflection. That’s right—two! That’s all I can manage before I hear “Mommy, Mommy,” but it makes a marked difference in my ability to be present and receptive. This simple act has transformed how I approach my day.

    Set Realistic Expectations

    It’s easy to get caught up in unrealistic expectations, both for yourself and for others. Set realistic goals and be flexible when things don’t go as planned.

    I learned this lesson the hard way when I tried to juggle my counseling practice, family responsibilities, and my new exercise and rehab routine. It was only when I scaled back, created a list of true priorities, and focused on one meaningful task at a time that I found a sustainable balance.

    Celebrate Small Victories

    Acknowledge and celebrate your achievements, no matter how small they may seem. Every step forward is progress, and it’s important to recognize and appreciate your efforts.

    My husband and I have created a gratitude practice at the end of the day where we share even the smallest victories, like finishing a task or having a good conversation. It helps us rise above the inevitable frustrations and disappointments of the day and reminds us of our blessings and progress.

    Learn to Say No

    It’s okay to say no to things that don’t serve you or that you don’t have the capacity for. Prioritize your well-being and focus on what truly matters to you. I used to say yes to every request, stretching myself thin. Learning to say no was liberating and allowed me to invest my energy in what truly mattered.

    Moving Forward with Grace

    As I stand in my kitchen, surrounded by the beautiful chaos of daily life, I am reminded of the profound lessons that come from embracing the mess. The crumbs on the counter and the sticky spots on the floor are not symbols of failure but of life being fully lived. They show that I am present, day after day, doing my best.

    Life’s messiness is where we find our true selves—where we learn to embrace imperfection, find beauty in the ordinary, and show kindness to ourselves. It’s where we let go of control and learn to go with the flow, trusting that things will work out, even if it’s not in the way we expected.

    Embracing change and the chaos that comes with it has taught me that the most beautiful moments often arise from the most unexpected places. It has shown me that resilience, adaptability, and strength are born from facing our fears and stepping into the unknown.

    Recently, a wise friend gifted me a fridge magnet that reads, “A clean house is a sign of a wasted life.” There was a time when I might have felt defeated or even insulted by this message. Instead, I now see it as a gentle reminder to exhale and accept myself and my messy life as they are—worthy, unique, and filled with rich lessons and avenues for growth.

    If you find yourself struggling with the messiness of life, I encourage you to look for the grace in the chaos. Embrace the imperfections, show up, and do your best. Remember that you are enough, just as you are. Life doesn’t have to be perfect to be beautiful.

    So, the next time you find yourself overwhelmed by the crumbs on the counter or the sticky spots on the floor, take a moment to breathe and appreciate the life being lived in those messy, imperfect spaces. Show up, do your best, and trust that this is more than enough.

  • The Gift of Self-Acceptance: Goodbye Filters, Hello Authentic Self

    The Gift of Self-Acceptance: Goodbye Filters, Hello Authentic Self

    “Beauty doesn’t come from physical perfection. It comes from the light in our eyes, the spark in our hearts, and the radiance we exude when we’re comfortable enough in our skin to focus less on how we look and more on how we love.” ~Lori Deschene

    Swiping though the various filters available, I saw my face go from mine to someone else’s—to someone with better skin, bigger eyes… Oooh look, I think this one makes my face look slimmer. Hello, cheekbones!

    As someone who hated having her picture taken and was utterly convinced that she looked beyond awful in photos, I suddenly saw an easy fix to look good on camera.

    When I first started showing up online for my business in 2020, Instagram Reels had just been launched. It was declared an absolute must to record content as a business owner, and filters were simply a part of it. Harmless fun designed to inspire and create.

    However, as someone who had worn a lifelong “introvert” badge, and with more insecurities than I cared to admit at that point in time, the discomfort I felt showing up in these videos was beyond excruciating.

    As a child raised in an extremely unstable environment, without ever hearing the words “I love you” or feeling in any way that I belonged, I had somewhat unsurprisingly grown into an insecure young woman who had come to rely on validation through physical appearance. A pattern that I was most certainly repeating from my own mother, who was never seen looking anything less than.

    Also, a series of  events in my chaotic childhood had left me with a severe abandonment wound, and I had struggled deeply with “not enoughness” for as long as I could remember.

    And though I had since spent years doing the work to heal myself through the teachings of incredible women such as Louise Hay and Brené Brown, showing up online was about to open a wound that I thought had long healed.

    In my early twenties I used makeup as a mask, refusing to leave the house without an immaculately applied full face of war paint, and never under any circumstances taking it off in front of anyone. So utterly convinced that I was unlovable, with a desire to look perfect for approval, I had inadvertently created a reality in which I had to look a certain way, all the time.

    It was exhausting.

    After spending years working hard to cultivate a deeper connection with myself and striving to detach my self-worth from my appearance, I have since enjoyed a much healthier relationship with makeup.

    I now see my body as a temple, to adorn as I so wish, because I desire it and not because I feel I have to for acceptance or validation. Makeup has now become a creative ritual that brings me joy, an extension of my personality, creativity, and individuality.

    I felt as if I‘d reached a healthy turning point of this chapter in life—until I started creating content.

    As  mumma and stepmumma to a blended family of five, then in my early thirties, I felt daunted stepping out into an online world in which everyone appeared to be a flawless twenty-two-year-old yoga instructor dancing a “how to” tutorial to the latest trending audio.

    There was absolutely no way I was dancing, but using a filter? That I could do.

    I carefully selected one that didn’t dramatically alter my features but undeniably made me look younger, with the same clear, smooth skin as the aforementioned twenty-two-year-old. I then proceeded to use the exact same filter for three years for every single photograph and video. Over and over again, until I wasn’t just using it for online purposes; I was using it as standard practice in my day-to-day life.

    It wasn’t until a couple of years later that I realized something quite sinister had been subconsciously at play.

    Initially, I tried convincing myself that filters were effectively digital makeup, designed to enhance a video the way a photographer does a photograph. But it began to feel different, and yet all so familiar.

    It felt like hiding.

    My first indication that the use of filters was clearly affecting my well-being was when I refused to have a photograph taken without one.

    Red Flag Number One

    More feelings of discomfort began to tug at me after attending a festival as a speaker one summer and meeting people whom I’d developed connections with online. Only I had the awkwardness of not fully recognizing them. I found myself searching for something familiar in their faces, almost cartoon like, squinting my eyes and slightly tilting my head to one side as I saw them approaching from across the room.

    I realized that they didn’t quite look like themselves, at least the version of them I had become accustomed to seeing online. This quickly was followed by a nervous feeling as I pondered the question “What if I don’t look like myself?!”

    Red Flag Number Two

    While the obvious solution here was to stop using filters, I felt trapped in a web of my own making, and old feelings of insecurity and the fear of not being good enough began to creep in. I deeply struggled to marry these feeling up with my own values as a staunch advocate for empowering women to develop self-love and self-belief.

    How could I possibly align these actions with my deepest values? How could I record videos trying to encourage women to believe in themselves when the whole time I was too scared to hit “record” without a filter?

    The hypocrisy was not lost on me. I knew in my heart that my values would have to defeat my vanity, and that it was only a matter of time before I had to change my approach and show up as myself, unfiltered.

    Red Flag Number Three

    This was to be my final red flag—misalignment of values.

    With my thirty-seventh birthday approaching, and a little voice inside saying ”It’s time” getting louder, I gave myself the greatest gift I could have possibly given myself.

    The gift of true self-acceptance. The gift to show up online as the most authentic version of myself.

    The gift of finally healing that old perfection wound and fully detaching my self-worth from my physical appearance.

    The gift of showing up filter-free.

    To some, this may seem insignificant. But to me, the girl who had struggled so deeply with insecurities for as long as she could remember, the girl who had worn these filters as a mask and for approval, this was a monumental breakthrough and a big fat tick in the box marked “be yourself.”

    One step closer to me, and a whole lot closer to being in alignment with my own core values.

    I had anticipated a period of feeling slightly awkward, perhaps a little vulnerable to start with. But what I hadn’t in any way prepared for was a new wave of confidence, self-love, and self-acceptance.

    I felt liberated.

    As if unlocking a level on a video game, I felt as if I’d reached a brand-new level in my life. I began to get curious about why ditching filters had been such an issue. And then one day I asked myself a question that might just be one of the most important questions I’ve ever asked myself:

    Where else in my life am I wearing a filter?

    Where else in my life am I keeping my most authentic version at bay for fear of judgement, rejection, or even ridicule?

    Where else in my life am I hiding?

    There is much power to be found in the questions we ask when seeking answers that lie within.

    For me personally, such questions have led to a surge in my personal growth and self-acceptance along with my overall happiness and well-being. And with each question, its answer brings me closer to a version of myself that feels more and more like me with each passing day. From the clothes I wear, to the way I show up for myself and others, down to the energy I bring and my newfound freedom to create from the heart.

    It’s also been a beautiful reminder that the healing journey is exactly that, a journey. Not a destination. So I will continue to ask myself these questions. I will endeavor to remain curious and compassionate, not only in the pursuit of my most authentic self, but to also honor the practice of self-acceptance along the way.

  • A Mindfulness Technique to Overcome Perfectionism and Step into Self-Love

    A Mindfulness Technique to Overcome Perfectionism and Step into Self-Love

    “When we allow ourselves to be vulnerable, we are not pretending, we are not hiding—we are simply present with whatever is going on inside us. Ironically, it is this very feeling of authenticity that draws people to us, not the brittle effort of perfectionism.” ~Maureen Cooper

    Most of my life I have been really good at following the have-tos and oughts of perfectionism.

    I have to keep the house clean. What will the company think?

    I ought to be pleasant and pleasing. Stop being stubborn. Worse yet, stop being angry.

    I should not have told that long story to my coworker. They looked bored. Oh, yes, they were probably bored.

    Doing what I thought other people wanted and doing it in just the right way was my attempt to use perfectionism to belong.

    We all want to belong, and some of us, myself included, learned that belonging comes with strings attached. If I could control those “strings,” then I wouldn’t have to feel rejected and judged. Perfectionism was a way of exercising that control.

    The intense need to meet my too high expectations filtered into every area of my life: relationships, academics, body image.

    I remember from an early age becoming obsessed with getting straight A’s in school. Anything less than a 100% was not good enough. Anything below an A- was a moral failing.

    I worked out until my BMI was low enough to still be considered “healthy” because I wanted to be pretty enough for other people.

    All the perfectionism in my life was a way to protect myself against the inevitability of being judged. Of being seen as someone less than, flawed, failing—human.

    And if I wasn’t judged, then I might be liked? Accepted? Maybe even loved? Even if I didn’t like, accept, or love myself.

    Perfectionism, at its core, is a drive toward accomplishment, characterized by an internal pressure to avoid harsh criticism and failure.

    The problem with this way of thinking is that you can’t control other people. No matter how perfect you try to be, someone will judge you. You will fail. No matter how hard you try, you won’t be able to maintain the facade of perfection.

    Perfectionism is the armor I have worn through my life to protect myself from what is underneath the judgment and criticism. Perfectionism protects me from the fear that I am not good enough. If I am not good enough, then I am not worthy of belonging.

    I desperately wanted to be loved, but in trying, I stopped loving myself.

    From small details, like what to wear to a party, to big problems, like the realities (and conflicts) of an authentic and healthy relationship, my high expectations made it impossible for me to relax into who I am.

    I was constantly beating myself up. I didn’t wear the right outfit. I look too dressed up/not dressed up enough.

    I was constantly biting my tongue, hesitating to share bits of myself. What will he think? That part of my personality is too weird, too different, too messy to be valued?

    My life was a constant struggle to meet unattainable ideals. The maintenance of which was stressful, all consuming, and riddled with anxiety. Furthermore, no matter how hard I tried, I still didn’t feel like I belonged.

    It was not until I decided that my relationship to myself was the problem that I started to see changes.

    If I wanted to feel connected to other people, belong to a community, a friendship, a partnership, I had to let go of being perfect.

    I had to let people see me authentically, and I had to be willing to let go of the too high expectations that were keeping me from being myself.

    To help me let go of perfectionism, I started practicing the art of mindful self-compassion.

    The tenants of mindful self-compassion are based off of the work of mindfulness teacher Tara Brach. To explain mindful self-compassion, she coined the term RAIN.

    RAIN stands for Recognize, Allow, Investigate, and Nurture.

    Recognize and allow your perfectionism to be what it is.

    Based on RAIN, the first two steps of mindful self-compassion are the basis of any mindfulness practice. Mindfulness is the practice of bringing non-judgmental awareness to your present moment experience.

    In other words, you first recognize or bring awareness to your lived experience in the now and then you allow, without judgment, that experience of thoughts and feelings to flow through you.

    When it comes to perfectionism, this means recognizing the need to worry over, hustle through, force, or avoid a particular way of being. It also means allowing those same feelings and thoughts to exist without trying to change them and without trying to act on them.

    For example, if I notice I am feeling the need to write and rewrite, edit and re-edit this essay because isn’t “good enough,” then instead of continuing on the track of perfectionist behavior, I can recognize that I am feeling worried and allow those feelings to exist without doing anything to change them.

    Investigate the deeper why.

    The next step of the RAIN mindfulness technique is investigate. Investigating and the last step of nurture are the two aspects of this technique that have helped me see the biggest changes in my own habit of perfectionism.

    Investigating means you dig a little deeper. You ask yourself, why are these feelings and thoughts here? What is actually at the heart of my need to control?

    Investigating requires you to be vulnerable with yourself. Are you worried about failing? Do you think that if you let go of control people won’t like you?

    In what ways are your perfectionist tendencies guarding your heart?

    If we go back to my writing example, the reason why I am trying to perfect the outcome of this essay is because deep down I really, really want you, dear reader, to like it. If you like it, then that means that I am a “good” writer, and I so desperately want to be a good writer.

    By investigating my feelings around perfectionism, I get to the real reason for my actions, which is that I want to be accepted. I want to be liked. I want to belong.

    Which brings me to the last component of RAIN, nurture.

    Nurture the feelings and thoughts behind the perfectionism.

    The last step of RAIN, nurture, asks you to take all of your feelings and care for them. How can you give love to the person you are today who is worried about being good enough and worried about belonging?

    Maybe this looks like reaffirming you are good enough and that everyone feels like you feel right now from time to time.

    Maybe this looks like journaling about your feelings or talking it out with a good friend.

    Maybe this looks like giving yourself a hug, taking a warm shower, or doing some breath work, then going back to the task when you feel ready.

    Ultimately, nurturing what is underneath the perfectionism means giving yourself a bit of a break. You don’t have to do everything just the right way for it to be enough.

    For me, in the context of perfectionism related to publishing this essay, I would take a break, go for a walk, and remind myself that 80% is good enough.

    Overall, RAIN is an incredible mindfulness technique for letting go of perfectionism.

    By using this technique, perfectionism is less at the forefront of my life. RAIN helps me let go of the big feelings and thoughts associated with perfectionism and tend to the underlying beliefs and assumptions I have about myself that contribute to it.

    Ultimately, I have learned that I don’t have to be perfect to be loved and that being imperfect still makes me worthy of belonging. The RAIN technique helps me see that I am good enough for others and, most importantly, I am good enough for myself.

  • How to Show Up When Nothing About Your Life Is Perfect

    How to Show Up When Nothing About Your Life Is Perfect

    “I saw that you were perfect, and so I loved you. Then I saw that you were not perfect, and I loved you even more.” ~Angelita Lim

    I’m not a perfect parent. I’m not a perfect partner. I’m not in perfect health. I’m not a perfect friend. And I’m far from perfect with my finances.

    Hell, nothing about my life is perfect. And guess what? I’ll never be able to attain perfection in those areas. And I’m sorry to say it, but neither will you.

    Don’t be fooled by calling yourself a perfectionist. Perfection as a destination is what causes procrastination. And for most of us, it’s nothing more than an excuse to avoid putting in the work, because why try if we don’t have the skills to be perfect?

    Unfortunately, this belief that we can attain perfection is bullshit. It’s an idea adopted from the school system. Grades were meaningless because they had nothing to do with effort. They were a simple way of ticking boxes for the masses.

    Conversely, a meaningful life comes down to your effort when no one is watching.

    What did you do today? Did you show up? Did you make an effort to be a better parent, a better partner, be in better health, a better friend, and better your finances?

    No effort = No progress = No reward.

    We can’t put off living our lives hoping that someday these areas will magically be perfect.

    Yesterday is dead and gone. Tomorrow is nothing more than a dream. So focus on today.

    You’re living right now. This is your chance to be better.

    Want to be a better parent? Want to be a better partner? Want better health? Want to be a better friend? Want better finances?

    Start by putting your phone down and giving each area your undivided presence.

    Be with your kids. Be with your partner. Be with your health. Be with your friends. Be conscious with your money.

    Perfection is horribly discouraging because who the hell has time for their ideal two-hour morning routine? I sure as hell don’t. With a kid who isn’t in daycare, running a business, and paying bills, many days feel like I’m flying by the seat of my pants.

    And that’s also why many of us fail to progress on what’s meaningful. If you get stuck in an all-or-nothing mentality, it almost always means you’re doing nothing.

    But suppose you did something radical and showed yourself empathy in these moments. In that case, you’ll change the entire trajectory of your life by simply showing up.

    Don’t have time to go to the gym? Don’t have time to do an at-home workout? Don’t have time to go for a walk? Don’t have time to do ten squats and a few pushups?

    Pick your kid up, throw on some Taylor Swift, and throw a dance party, you crazy fool.

    Change the scope of what you deem a win for the day.

    When you accept that perfection is impossible, you can get down to the actual work of making improvements because you’ve given yourself a way to show up every damn day.

    Every action you take (or don’t take) is a vote toward the person you’re becoming. Don’t discount the truth that small actions create colossal change.

    Think of a single vote: In a democracy, a single vote can be the deciding factor in an election, which can have significant consequences for the direction of a country.

    Think of a small spark: A small spark can ignite a large fire, which can have severe consequences for people and the environment.

    Think of a tiny seed: A tiny seed can grow into a large plant, providing food, oxygen, and habitat for various living things.

    Think of a simple idea: A simple idea can lead to development of a new technology or product that changes how people live and work.

    Think of a single word: One word or phrase can spark a movement, change public opinion, or inspire others to take action.

    Dedicate today to taking one small action on something that matters to you, even if it’s just five minutes and feels insignificant.

    This small, simple, single step you’ve been putting off could be the catalyst for the explosion that propels you forward and transforms your life (and the world) for the better.

    You got this.

    You deserve a better life.

  • How Embracing a Good Enough Life Gave Me the Life of My Dreams

    How Embracing a Good Enough Life Gave Me the Life of My Dreams

    “Acknowledging the good that you already have in your life is the foundation for all abundance.” ~Eckart Tolle

    It was perfect. Well, almost.

    I was doing the work I love, with someone I love, my two boys were thriving, and we seemed to finally be on the road to retirement. What could possibly be wrong with this picture?

    A lot, apparently.

    I was waking up worried and unsatisfied. Always feeling like life was missing something, like I was missing something, not doing enough, asking: How can my business be better? What will my kids do next year? Is my partner gaining weight? Did I run yesterday?

    Anxiety crept into my mind and contracted my body before I had a chance to get ahead of it. It was an unease that something just wasn’t quite right. And if it was, then it wouldn’t be for long.

    I knew enough about neuroscience and anxiety to know what was happening.

    Negative thoughts are a protective pattern that come from scanning our environment for potential threats.

    Our ancestors were wired this way to survive, thankfully, and we are probably in the first generation that can even talk about the word “abundance,” at least in this part of the world. The intergenerational trauma of feeling unsafe is in the recent past and runs deep in our DNA, especially for women.

    But even armed with all the knowledge of trauma and all the best practices of breathing, meditation, and yoga, there was still a missing link.

    My worries seemed trivial given the war that was raging in the world. It seemed self-indulgent to want more, to even consider that this was not enough. Even when it felt enough, it was because all the factors were lining up in that moment, but it felt precarious, like a house of cards—even though I knew it wasn’t.

    All the self-help books promised I could “reach for my dreams” and “have my best life ever” if I only changed my habits and my mindset and lived like I thought all the people around me were.

    In fact, I was so busy working on my life that I felt exhausted and still felt like I wasn’t doing or giving enough. Even when deciding what charity to donate to, to help those in need, I felt like I had to choose the “right” one!

    It was through my work with people in chronic pain that one day something shifted. I was teaching about the difference between acceptance and giving up in the search for a cure, and I said something like “It’s not so much what you are doing but how you are doing it.”

    Doing something from a place of pressure and intensity, with a worry about making a mistake or not getting it right, creates fear. Fear creates more fear in the end, and it creates pain.

    My inner perfectionist gasped and took a step back. She was outed.

    Not only did I see how my inner perfectionist had been running the show, I knew that if I wanted to negotiate with her, I was going to have to come from a different energy other than “getting this right.”

    She had helped me; she had worked so hard to stay on top of everything and got me through some tough times.

    She had guilted me when I felt like a bad mother, a bad friend, a less-than therapist, or a mediocre spouse and showed me all the ways I could be better. She even lent her expertise to my family, telling them how they should behave, what they should eat and not eat, and how they should conduct their lives.

    This was sometimes done directly, but she also worked coercively behind the scenes through people-pleasing, manipulation, and other passive-aggressive behaviors.

    She was based in fear and shame as a trauma response, learned early on in my childhood years, that told me my authentic self was clearly not good enough. So I employed her services to keep me safe, help me fit in at school, get good marks, and be an all around “good girl” on the outside. But the inner pressure of a perfectionist is unbearable and soon morphed into an eating disorder when life felt out of control.

    Many of us live in a nasty triangle that can be difficult to see and even more difficult to disrupt. It goes: shame-inner critic-perfection, and it balances itself precariously inside our mind and body leaving its imprint of “not good enough” to guide our lives.

    This is compounded by a culture that primes us to feel like we’re not okay and there is always something to buy, change, or fix, because it is not normal to just be okay.

    Even though my trauma happened decades ago, the vestiges remained. I could not quite relax into my life without something or someone, mostly myself, feeling “not quite good enough.” I also found this same core belief to be at the root of many if not all of my clients’ struggles with anxiety, depression, and chronic pain.

    It was the constant feeling of being here but wanting to be… somewhere or someone else. A knee-jerk resistance to life or an inability to truly sink into all life has to offer without finding fault or a hiccup somewhere. Or worse, thinking that I had to earn my worth by doing more and being more, and all without effort!

    Not. Good. Enough.

    Not good enough for what? For whom? This is an unanswerable question because it is a lie. But it is one thing to know that and another to let my inner perfectionist know I was safe now and she could take a backseat because, well, I’m good enough.

    I thought about the times I felt free and at peace.

    I thought about the people I knew whose lives had the biggest impact on me.

    I had a chat with my future self twenty years from now about the qualities she had, how she moved, and what she valued.

    And it came down to a word: simplicity.

    Here is where I had to tread carefully. My inner perfectionist would make finding simplicity very, very complicated and approach it with an all-in attitude, as she did everything: live in a tiny house, two chairs, two sets of cutlery, and a bed.

    No, there had to be another way, an easier way.

    It turns out, it was the easiest way possible: Embrace what is here now.

    What if everything was good enough, just as it is, in this moment? What if I was good enough, just as I am, in this moment? What if my body, my health, my relationships, all the ways I tried, were just good enough?

    It felt radical, revolutionary. It felt like I was disrupting all my programming about what it means to live a good life. It was not the energy of giving up or rationalizing that I didn’t deserve more and I should settle for less. It wasn’t even the energy of gratitude or appreciating what I have and how privileged I am.

    It was the opposite.

    Embracing my life as good enough busted the myth of inferiority and superiority that tells us some people are more or less worthy than others. It let me relax into the fact that we are all doing the best we can with what we know at that moment. If I was good enough, then others were too.

    It busted the myth of needing more and being more, because I didn’t have anything to prove to anyone. It also busted the myth that if I truly accepted my life as it is, I would just lie down on the couch and never get up. Again, the opposite happened.

    Energy was freed up for more of what I love, not what I should do. Worry and struggle were replaced with self-forgiveness.

    Embracing my life as good enough gave me the doorway I needed to a quality of life I couldn’t imagine.

    I realized I was good enough to show up just as I am.

    I realized I was good enough to set boundaries around what and who aligned with me.

    I realized I could write, speak, and create in a messy, fun, good enough way.

    I realized I was good enough to rest.

    I realized I was good enough to embrace my own wants, needs, and desires.

    I realized I was already good enough for pleasure right here and now in a million ways I couldn’t see before.

    I realized my life was not about being better, improved, fixed… it was about being who I am, and that was enough.

    I realized I could work less and make more money.

    I realized my body was a remarkable organism that was to be loved and held, not manipulated.

    I realized that every decision I made was right for me because it was good enough.

    I realized that struggle was never meant to be my life, but giving, loving, and contributing were.

    I realized I was already good enough to live a life of joy, comfort, and ease.

    One of the most beautiful parts of this is looking in my children’s eyes and knowing that they, too, are so perfectly good enough just as they are. They don’t need to prove their worth to anyone.

    Embracing my good enough life has allowed me to enter my life, just as I am, and has turned “good enough” into “how good can it get?” It gave me the safety I needed to “do what I can, with what I have, where I am” (Theodore Roosevelt).

    Can you imagine a world where everyone knew they were just good enough? Where we all lived life from a place of forgiveness, grace, and compassion for ourselves?

    What are you already good enough for that life is just waiting to give you?

  • My New Approach to Setting Goals and Why It Works Better for Me

    My New Approach to Setting Goals and Why It Works Better for Me

    “The journey is long, but the goal is in each step.” ~Sri Sri Ravi Shankar

    I have a daughter, she is nine.

    A few months ago, I started to feel like we weren’t as close as we used to. I felt like we weren’t spending enough time together, and honestly, when we were I almost didn’t know what to do with her. It felt like our emotional connection was falling apart, like we didn’t have enough topics to discuss or enough games to play.

    Moreover, I was getting stressed and annoyed with her easily, and it definitely wasn’t helping. I could raise my voice and then would immediately feel terrible, and of course she would get frustrated too.

    I knew it was my fault. I’d been too focused on my work, and I just hadn’t been leaving enough time and energy to our interaction. I hadn’t been prioritizing it.

    I realized that I needed to fix it.

    And as I am very much into goal setting, I sat down and started writing down a goal to improve my relationship with my daughter.

    There are many different techniques people use while creating their goals. One of the famous and commonly used ones is called SMART, which stands for Specific, Measurable, Attainable, Relevant, and Time-Based. I used to apply this technique a lot in the past. So I thought I’d use it again.

    But as soon as I started, I immediately got in trouble.

    I was saying to myself, “Okay, it’s definitely relevant to me. And I guess it’s also time-based (ummm, really?). But how am I supposed to measure it? And how do I make something like ‘relationship’ specific enough?”

    And here is the biggest problem. The whole purpose of my goal was not just to get to some specific point in the future when my relationship with my daughter would be perfect. The purpose was to have continuous (this word really matters here), daily improvement in our relationship so that we could enjoy our time together today, tomorrow. and every day!

    And suddenly the following realization hit me like a strike of lightning:

    “My goal is not a result of some process—my goal is the process!”

    The issue with SMART goals is that they make us focus purely on the end result rather than pay attention to the process!

    Please get me right, there is nothing wrong with focusing on the end result. But I do believe that it is wrong to not focus on the journey that gets us there.

    As I was thinking about it further, I discovered more limitations of the SMART technique:

    We miss out on the important goals that don’t fit into the framework.

    The goal about my relationship with my daughter is the perfect example of this limitation. It’s obviously very important to me, but it can hardly be measured or timeboxed.

    Missing the deadline means failure.

    Whenever we deal with deadlines, we automatically tend to believe that missing this deadline is a failure. And our goals are no exception. But the truth is, there are many factors outside of our control that can affect our ability to meet the deadline.

    So instead of focusing too much on the deadline, I prefer to measure success by how consistently I make progress, regardless of how fast it goes.

    Missing the start date means failure.

    We already talked about the deadlines, but as soon as timelines are involved, we also happen to have a start date. And we start to face the same problem here—if we don’t start on the date that we defined for ourselves as a “start date,” we feel like losers.

    I actually think that this is one of the biggest reasons why we give up on our New Year’s resolutions so often. We just seem to believe that if we didn’t start working on our goal on January 1, then it automatically means that we failed. But that’s just not true—it’s never too late to start working on your goals!

    We often roll back to where we started.

    When we focus on the end result too much, it’s too easy to stop paying attention and therefore roll back to the previous state once we achieve that result.

    Raise your hand if you ever worked on the goal to “lose ten/twenty/fifty (choose your variant) pounds before the summer.” Okay, and how soon did those pounds come back?

    I myself struggled with losing weight for many years. I was always a little bit overweight. Not enough to make me do something about it, but definitely enough to make me feel uncomfortable. I tried to lose weight multiple times, I was even able to make progress for a few months in a row, but then I would stop. And again, and again.

    About three years ago I got to my highest weight ever, and it is when I finally said to myself, “Okay, now you really gotta do something about it.” But I approached it differently this time—I decided to make it part of my lifestyle.

    I started working out regularly with a personal trainer (hello accountability!). I started paying attention to what I was eating and drinking. But the most important mental shift that I had to make was that I wasn’t doing it as a temporary thing anymore, or wasn’t trying to achieve a particular “result.” My goal was to learn to appreciate the journey!

    Now, three years later, I am forty pounds lighter than when I started. I am stronger, happier, and more confident than ever before. I still exercise at least four times a week, and I enjoy it! I truly do! I even workout when I travel, and I would’ve never expected that from myself.

    —

    I feel like I am at the point in my personal growth journey when I don’t need the boundaries of specific frameworks anymore.

    So, from now on, whenever I create a new goal, I make sure it’s all about the continuous, consistent, sustainable improvement in one particular area of my life.

    I make sure it’s all about the process, because I strongly believe that the process is where the true success and happiness reside.

    And if you are curious whether I was able to improve my relationship with my daughter… Well, I am still working on it. There is always room for improvement, but I have been able to almost completely stop raising my voice at her, we are definitely spending more time together these days, and I am appreciating this time so much more. Which I am extremely grateful for!

  • Why I Now Love That I’m Different After Hating It for Years

    Why I Now Love That I’m Different After Hating It for Years

    “Only recently have I realized that being different is not something you want to hide or squelch or suppress.” ~Amy Gerstler

    I grew up during the traditional times of the sixties and seventies. Dad went out to work and earned the family income, while Mom worked at home raising their children. We were a family of seven. My brother was the first-born and he was followed by four sisters. I was the middle child.

    I did not quite know where I belonged. I oscillated between my older two and younger two siblings, feeling like the third wheel no matter where I was.

    I was the one in my family that was “different.” I was uncomfortable in groups, emotionally sensitive, intolerant of loud noises, and did not find most jokes funny. Especially when the jokes were at the expense of someone else. Oftentimes that someone else was me.

    Yes, I was the proverbial black sheep. I stood on the fringes of my own family, a microcosm of the bigger world.

    Life felt hard and lonely. I felt isolated and misunderstood. Too frequently I wondered what was wrong with me and why I did not quite fit. Others appeared to be content with the status quo. I never was.  Others didn’t questions the inequities I saw in life. I did. Others did not seem to notice the suffering of others. I epitomized it.

    Being different did not exactly make me the popular one. In fact, quite the opposite. Who knew what to do with my awkwardness? I sure didn’t.

    As a result, I was depressed a good part of my life. That was not something that was identified or talked about then. Too often it still isn’t. A disconnected life and feelings of loneliness and isolation will lead to depression, among other things. 

    I hit my teens and did what too many do: I looked for ways to be comfortably numb. My choice was alcohol. It gave me an opportunity to “fit in” or at the very least, not care about the fact that I did not. I rebelled. I self-destructed. For years.

    As life will have it, I grew up, feeling my way in the dark, wondering when the lights would go on. I turned inward looking for the comfort I could not find from the world. I hid my pain and lostness. At times, I prayed that I would get cancer and die.

    A heroic exit was not to be my path.

    Do you know what I am talking about?

    Maybe you feel what I have felt. Maybe you know the pain of chronic isolation and what it means to be different in a culture that prefers sameness. Do you wonder if you will ever be okay? Do you wonder if you will ever fit?

    Well, let me tell you:

    First of all, you fit. You have always fit. You belong. You have always belonged. You are needed—more than you know. These are truisms.

    Others do not have to think you belong in order for you to know you do. Others do not have to treat you as insider in order for you to know you are.

    Knowing, intellectually, that you belong is one thing. Feeling like you belong, now that is an entirely different thing. That is an inside job. In other words, that is your work to do.

    So, I did what I had to do to bring change, in order to get the life I wanted. I stepped up to the challenges in my life, which came through my work world and my personal relationships.

    I often ran into conflict with authority figures, changing jobs frequently. I didn’t know how to let others close to me. I was afraid of being rejected, so I used anger and avoidance to distance those that mattered to me the most. I was not happy, content, or at peace. I felt that more often than not.

    So, I faced my pain and hurt instead of numbing it.

    As I got more honest with myself, I began to consider that maybe there was nothing wrong with me.  Maybe there was something wrong with the world or the system that wants to tell me there is something wrong with me.

    So, I began to view myself through different eyes. I began to make some noise. I got out of the bleachers and stepped into the ring. I chose to participate in life as I was, not as others thought I should be. I started to push up against the boundaries that others had set.

    Yes, I faced rejection. I dealt with disapproval. It was hard. Really hard. It hurt. I cried. I stomped my feet. I cried again. I gave myself permission to feel angry.

    In spite of the internal chaos, in spite of the hurt, in spite of my turmoil, I would do it all again.

    When we are trying to make changes, when we are owning our own lives, when we bump up against the expectations of others, it frequently gets messy before it gets better.

    DO IT ANYWAY! Because it does get better. For every person who rejects you, another will embrace you. But you can only meet those people if you first embrace yourself. Because you need to accept yourself to be able to put yourself out there.

    When you feel afraid to move forward, move anyway.

    When you want to quit because it feels too hard, rest. Do something nice for yourself. Then get back up and keep moving.

    There is light. Even when you can’t yet see it.

    There is hope. Even when you can’t find it.

    There is love. Even when you can’t feel it.

    Work at finding your voice by getting quiet and paying attention to your feelings and inner nudges. Learn to trust yourself by acknowledging that only you know what is true and best for you. Know your worth by recognizing your intrinsic value as a unique person with an abundance of admirable qualities.

    Start caring more about approving of yourself than waiting for others to approve of you. Own your life and take responsibility for your well-being and happiness. No one can do that for you.

    Figure out how to forgive yourself for the mistakes you will inevitably make. Learn how to love yourself more than anyone could ever love you.

    Accept yourself—the good, the bad, and the ugly. Then get about changing the ugly as best you can.

    This is what I have done. This is the hard work that brings transformation.

    In the process of all of this I made a phenomenal discovery…

    ME!!

    What a discovery! I have gifts to bring to the world. Gifts that will leave this world better than I found it.

    When I was younger, I didn’t like how sensitive I was to the energies around me, how I felt things to the core of my being, and how I hurt when I saw someone else hurting.

    Those around me seemed playful and fun, though, I could see the hurt in them. Life did not feel playful and fun to me. It felt serious. People were hurting. Why didn’t anyone other than me notice?

    I was hurting. Why didn’t anyone notice?

    I gravitated to the heavier side of life, fully identified with the suffering around me.

    I wanted to be anything other than what I was.

    I now understand these qualities to be empathy and intuition. Two things the world greatly needs.

    I learned to trust those qualities. They led me down a road I could never have imagined. I now have a thriving counseling practice, helping others to heal. I get to watch them discover their gifts. Better than that, I get to watch them go from hating who they are to loving and embracing who they are.

    Then they go out and find ways to help others do the same.

    But this story is not just about me. It is also about you.

    There is nothing wrong with you. You are amazing and beautiful, just as you are. Flaws and imperfections included.

    Don’t change yourself for a world that wants to tell you who you are.

    You tell the world who you are. Let’s change this place together and allow difference to be the norm, because our beauty is in our diversity.

    I invite you to take the journey inward to self-discovery. Then bring what you’ve learned and share it.

    Bring who you are and let’s change this world, one person at a time.

  • If You Expect a Lot and You’re Tired of Being Disappointed

    If You Expect a Lot and You’re Tired of Being Disappointed

    “Letting go gives us freedom, and freedom is the only condition for happiness. If, in our heart, we still cling to anything—anger, anxiety, or possessions—we cannot be free.” ~Thich Nhat Hanh

    Almost universally, many of the problems we face in life are tied to our own expectations.  Expectations of ourselves. Expectations of others. Expectations of situations. Expectations of the world at large.

    We may expect ourselves to be perfect and successful in all our pursuits. We may expect to feel constantly happy with our lives. We may expect others to think and react like we do. We may expect life to always go to plan, and the world to be uncompromisingly fair.

    To be clear, some expectations are perfectly healthy and reasonable. For example, it’s reasonable to expect that the people we love will not intentionally hurt us, or that they’ll care when we share our feelings. On the flipside, it might not be reasonable to expect they will show their care in a specific way, since we are all different.

    Holding onto expectations can cause us much harm internally.

    It can eat us up, from inside out. It can lead us to frustration, anger, and resentment. We may blame others and ourselves for the way things are. Or perhaps we feel so hurt that we retreat into a shell to try to protect ourselves, withdrawing from those that care about us and the world at large.

    We can then become indifferent to all that life has to offer. Flat, uninspired, and deeply unhappy. At their worst, these festering emotions can lead us to some very dark places.

    To avoid falling into depression and improve our quality of life, we have to look for ways to let go of our unreasonably high expectations.

    This isn’t easy to do, old habits die hard. Letting go of anything can be tough. We grow attached to objects, habits, people, behavior, and everything in between. But it is possible if we practice self-awareness, continually work at letting go, and have patience with ourselves when it’s hard.

    Personal Experiences: Expectations of Others That Have Only Hurt Me

    Over the years, my expectations of others have brought me much frustration, and some degree of hurt. I’ve left myself open to disappointment when others haven’t seemed to give something that’s important to me equal priority, as I perceive it. As I type this, I realize how trite it sounds. I understand this is entirely about my perspective and expectations, but it’s also something I have had to fight hard against at times.

    This outlook has not been reserved purely for those closest to me, either. A former manager (and something of a mentor in a work setting) once said to me, “Carl, you know your problem is you expect too much out of people.”

    And in that succinct sentence is a very large element of truth. Something I have had to wrestle with.

    I’ve recognized that I hold expectations of others in various circumstances, and it always leads to disappointment. It could be frustration with a good friend for pulling out of plans last minute (even if they had a good reason). It could be a work colleague missing a deadline, that I believe they should have taken more seriously. It could even be related to a stranger not acknowledging the fact that I just held the door open for them.

    Any disappointment I feel in any of these cases is entirely about my own expectations. What I expect others to do, or how I expect them to react. Nevertheless, emotions don’t always make perfect sense, so I’ve had to be mindful of when I’m falling into this harmful pattern.

    Bizarrely, I can also get frustrated at my own frustration—because I expect myself to be better. I’m someone who values calm in my life and sees himself as being pretty rational and reasonably emotionally intelligent. When I let any perceived ‘infringements’ shake this calm, I inevitably reflect on how far I still have to come.

    Self-Examination Without Judgment

    Experiences like these, and how I react to them, have made me confront myself.

    Why did I feel slighted or hurt? Is it all ego, or is something deeper at play? If there is something deeper, what can I do to address the bigger issue instead of stewing in my feelings?

    What good did it do me to carry this energy for any length of time? What good would it do my relationships if I voiced my frustrations?

    Was I guilty of not walking my talk and acting in an adult fashion? Is this the person I want to be? Can I do better?

    Do I expect so much of other people because I expect so much of myself? Would cutting myself some slack enable me to do the same for others?

    This self-inventory is an important step for all of us if we wish to develop ourselves in any way.

    We all have our strengths, and we all have areas that need attention. Without beating ourselves up, we need to ask some tough questions of ourselves at times. If we want to avoid negative reactions in the future and get better at handling expectations and emotions, we also need to have an understanding of them.

    In my case, I’ve realized what a waste of precious life it is to hold onto negative energy. I don’t want to be the person that holds a grudge. I don’t want to carry any anger or resentment with me. I don’t want to be the person that becomes bitter. So now I learn a lesson, if there is one to learn, but then release the negative energy so it doesn’t weight me down.

    I’ve realized that some of my frustrations indicate areas of my life that may need attention.

    If it’s related to a friend who keeps breaking promises, maybe we just need to broach the subject directly, have an open chat, and clear the air. Or maybe, that’s just not the friend for me. We can grow in and out of relationships, as much as we may attach ourselves to them.

    I’ve also realized my ego is often at play in these scenarios. I feel slighted because I take things personally—that someone is cancelling on me, or not honoring something important to me, and therefore, they must not value our time as much as I do. But often, when people disappoint me it has little to do with me and everything to do with their own life circumstances.

    This is something I need to watch and work on. I’m far from perfect, but I am getting better, and now less of my behavior is ego-led.

    I have also made peace with the fact that I may not always be as Zen as I’d like to be, but that’s okay.  My journey is my journey. The important thing is for me to recognize what I am and work on being the best version of me I can be.

    Besides, I’m sure even the Zenist of monks are not immune to the odd expectation and frustration, creeping into their day.

    I have also tried to develop a practice and habit of gratitude in my life to offset the pain of unmet expectations.

    When we feel gratitude, true appreciation and joy for something, it’s hard to stay in a negative space.

    Gratitude enables us to celebrate others for who they are instead of vilifying them for not being who we want them to be. We can embrace the fact that we are all different, we are all fallible. We all have our own little weird and wonderful ways. This is what it is to be human. We can choose to judge less. We can choose to accept and move on.

    We can choose to let go.

    Letting Go Is a Journey

    Expectations are a natural part of life. Not all are necessarily negative, but they often need balancing. If our expectations are causing us pain or making us a person we do not wish to be, we must learn to let them go.

    It doesn’t happen overnight. It’s a journey. It means taking the time to ingrain new habits—like self-reflection, ego-challenging, and gratitude—that will support new ways

    And paradoxically, sometimes our unmet expectations signal something else we need to let go—like friendships that are consistently draining or a career path that is persistently unfulfilling. This means we need to check in with ourselves occasionally to make sure we’re on the right path for us. And we need to be brutally honest with ourselves about what it is we truly hold dear in our lives.

    Letting go not only means confronting ourselves and making challenging choices, it also involves facing down some of our biggest internal fears and perceptions. What we thought we needed may not be what we actually need to nourish ourselves fully. For example, we may realize we need to validate ourselves instead of looking to other people for validation and interpreting every perceived slight as proof of our own unworthiness.

    Learning to let go of our expectations is hard, no doubt, but it’s also necessary to maintain our relationships, our peace, and our sanity and become the best versions of ourselves.

    Are you ready to let go?

  • 10 Things I’ve Let Go and How This Has Set Me Free

    10 Things I’ve Let Go and How This Has Set Me Free

    “I do not fix problems. I fix my thinking. Then problems fix themselves.” ~ Louise Hay

    Looking back on my life, I came to understand that perfection was my worst enemy. I was raised in an environment of high expectation, and every day in school felt like I was competing with others and fighting to be the best in class.

    At the age of ten I believed I was stupid just because my brain couldn’t work out physics and math. I was good with literature, arts, and foreign languages, but that wasn’t a sign of brilliance in the Eastern-European culture that shaped me.

    Much later, as a grown-up woman, I didn’t see myself as good enough, beautiful enough, smart enough, or successful enough. I felt unworthy of being loved by a wonderful man, unworthy of getting a good paycheck to reflect my skills and talents, too unworthy to apply for a tempting position at work.

    My life looks completely different today, and I embrace the new me with much gratitude and joy. I love myself as I am. I am happily married and doing what I was born to do in the world.

    So how did this shift happen?

    I can recall myself feeling overwhelmed after a long meeting at work, and looking for some inspiration to help me release the stress and feel better. As I was searching for The Secret movie on the YouTube, I “accidentally” opened another video that went straight into my heart: You Can Heal Your Life, by Louise Hay.

    Today, I know that was no accident. The teacher shows up when the student is ready—so true! I was so touched and absorbed by that movie, I couldn’t stop watching. Listening to Louise was pure magic; every single word went straight into my heart. I finally felt home, in a space where it was perfectly okay to be me: “I love and approve myself as I am. I am whole and complete and life loves me.”

    Over the next year, I discovered the work of other enlightened souls—Wayne Dyer, Byron Katie, and Don Miguel Ruiz—inviting me to precious moments of self-reflection and deep learning. Their teaching helped me to let go of old thinking patterns and cultural limiting beliefs that didn’t serve me well.

    After much trial and error applying their wisdom to my life, I have found a new sense of freedom. Here’s how:

    1. I’ve let go of the need to be perfect.

    I am perfectly beautiful and beautifully imperfect, and this is what allows me to be me.

    Perfection is an illusion—it doesn’t exist. I stopped stressing myself out trying to be perfect and now I am always aiming for “good enough.” I have learned to embrace my mistakes as much needed opportunities for growth, blessings in disguise that make me wiser. If I fail at anything, it doesn’t mean I’m a failure, because I am not what I do. Sometimes we win, sometimes we learn. We never lose.

    “Your best is going to change from moment to moment: it will be different when you are healthy as opposed to sick. Under any circumstance, simply do your best, and you will avoid self-judgment, self-abuse and regret.” ~Don Miguel Ruiz 

    2. I’ve let go of the need to be busy all the time. 

    Being in a rush isn’t a sign of virtue. I have learned to listen to my body, and I no longer feel guilty for doing nothing. I know I sometimes need to recharge the batteries of my body and soul, and I don’t feel like I owe anyone any explanation for doing that.

    If I don’t have time for myself, I make it. Watching a good movie, listening to relaxing music, reading a good book, singing, taking a walk to connect with nature—I do whatever makes my heart sing.

    “I am a human being, not a human doing. Don’t equate your self-worth with how well you do things in life. You aren’t what you do. If you are what you do, then when you don’t…you aren’t.” ~Dr. Wayne Dyer 

    3. I’ve let go of self-criticism.

    I pay attention to my inner talk; I don’t call myself names, and I treat myself with dignity and respect. I stopped telling myself things I would never tell a good friend. I am enough, whole, and complete.

    I have come to understand that in life, we don’t get what we want. We get what we think we deserve. That’s why it’s necessary to believe in ourselves and see ourselves as enough and worthy of the best things life has to offer.

    “You’ve been criticizing yourself for years and it hasn’t worked. Try approving of yourself and see what happens.” ~Louise Hay

    4. I’ve let go of blaming.

    I now know that each time I blame someone else, I am making myself a victim. Blaming others for taking my time, my money, or my love is unfair, because I always choose how much I give and to whom. No one can hurt me or upset me without my conscious (and often unconscious) consent.

    Instead, I now take responsibility for the way I feel, act, and think. I am in charge of my actions, and I know my future is the result of my current choices. I am what I believe and whatever I choose to be.

    “All blame is a waste of time. No matter how much fault you find with another, it will not change you. You may succeed in making another feel guilty about something by blaming, but you won’t succeed in changing whatever it is about you that is making you unhappy.” ~Wayne Dyer

    5. I’ve let go of judging.

    I know that everyone is on their own journey, and my job is to focus on my own. I also know that each time I am judgmental with people, I’m reacting to something that bothers me about myself. If I believe you are mean, it means I can also be mean; how could I see that in you, otherwise?

    “Placing the blame or judgment on someone else leaves you powerless to change your experience; taking responsibility for your beliefs and judgment gives you the power to change them.” ~Byron Katie

    6. I’ve let go of making assumptions about what other people feel, want, or think.

    I am not them, so there’s no way to know what they’re feeling and thinking.

    I stopped making up imaginary scenarios and letting my mind play with me. Each time I find myself disturbed by what people do or say, I know it’s time for a reality check.

    From “The Work” of Byron Katie, I’ve learned to examine the thoughts that trouble me and ask myself: “Is that true?” Many of my assumptions likely aren’t. For example, I might assume someone doesn’t like me, when really she’s just having a bad day. Or maybe she’s just shy. Not everyone is the same.

    The moment I realize I can’t know what this person thinks, simply because I am not her, my mind gets clear and I am able to meet her with an open heart.

    “I found that my unquestioned assumptions were the cause of all war and all peace in my world.” ~Byron Katie 

    7. I’ve let go of competing with others.

    I now know that my need to fight is nothing but my ego’s scream for self-validation. I don’t need anyone to lose any game so that I can feel good about myself. I love harmony, collaboration, and win-wins.

    I’ve stopped comparing myself to others. I choose to connect with people from a place of love instead of fear, and I believe in abundance. I choose to believe that we live in a supportive universe, where there is enough of everything and for everyone, including myself.

    “Love is cooperation rather than competition.” ~Dr. Wayne Dyer

    8. I’ve let go of chasing happiness.

    I no longer project my happiness into an imaginary future, hoping that someday, when I have that job, that house, that car, that success, I will be happy. I have learned to find happiness in the small pleasures of life, and I embrace the only reality that is, the present moment, with gratitude and much joy.

    I stopped waiting for the weekends to feel like living because each day is a gift and every single moment is precious and equally important.

    The day I shifted my focus from stressed to blessed, everything changed. I am thankful for everything I am and for everything I have: a healthy body and mind; a loving family; a few genuine, long-lasting friendships I’ve made over time; and a job I love and believe in.

    “I have noticed that the universe loves gratitude. The more grateful you are, the more goodies you get.” ~Louise Hay

    9. I’ve let go of worrying about the future.

    I accept that there are things in life that I cannot control, no matter how hard I might try. Each time I find myself worrying, I keep telling myself “Time will tell.”

    I might not always get what I want, but I know I always get what I need. I trust the flow of life, and choose to believe we live in an intelligent universe, where everything unfolds perfectly. Sometimes in life, even the time needs time.

    “Life is simple. Everything happens for you, not to you. Everything happens at exactly the right moment, neither too soon nor too late. You don’t have to like it…it’s just easier if you do.” ~Byron Katie

    10. I’ve let go of pleasing others.

    I no longer seek external validation so that I can feel liked or accepted. Worrying about what others think is a waste of time. Other people’s opinion of me is all about them and what they see in me, filtered through their lenses; it has zero to do with me.

    I’ve stopped expecting others to give me what I wasn’t giving myself: love, care, and attention. Loving myself as a whole—body, mind, and soul—is not selfish. I keep my cup full of self-love, and I take good care of my needs and my heart’s desires.

    I have learned how to make powerful choices for my highest good without worrying about disappointing people. People disappoint themselves by setting expectations for who they want me to be or what they want me to do.

    Saying no to things we don’t want to do is a learned practice and a sign of self-care. If it sounds like a “should,” I don’t do it. I go for the things that feel like a want. My wants come from myself, instead of being imposed on me by others. I always choose how I am spending my precious time and with whom. I know my time is my life, and it’s never coming back.

    My life is about me and I have the right to make my own choices. Life is to be lived, not existed, and I choose to live it authentically, with no apologies and no regrets.

    “Nothing others do is because of you. What others say and do is a projection of their own reality, their own dream. When you are immune to the opinions and actions of others, you won’t be the victim of needless suffering.” ~Don Miguel Ruiz

    —

    My self-transformation into the mindful person I am today didn’t happen overnight. It’s been an ongoing process that required continuous inner work.

    Today, I am still a student at School of Life, and every day is a great opportunity for new learning. I know that I have the power to create my own reality, by the way I think. So I make sure I nourish my mind with healthy thoughts, knowing my mind has power.

    And now, I would like to hear from you. Are you holding on to any of these things? What’s preventing you from letting them go?

  • Slow, Imperfect Progress Is Better Than None at All

    Slow, Imperfect Progress Is Better Than None at All

    “When perfectionism is driving, shame is riding shotgun, and fear is that annoying backseat driver.” Brené Brown

    Sometimes I feel like the girl who cried film.

    I first wrote a blog post introducing Tiny Buddha Productions three years ago, and despite my earnestness, passion, and enthusiasm, I have only one short film to show for myself.

    When I was working on this short, which we filmed partly in my apartment—in my bedroom, amid the worn clothes and shoes in my walk-in closet even—I felt more alive and aligned than I’d felt in years.

    I was doing something I’d wanted to do since college, in LA, the mecca of filmmaking, with a team of talented people I admired and respected.

    I was telling a story that felt deeply personal and authentic to me, sometimes tearing up behind the camera because it was finally happening, after months of planning, failing, and trying again.

    It kind of felt like a Jerry Maguire moment. I wasn’t my father’s son again, but I was the old me again—the me who felt most at home amidst lights, costumes, and makeup, even when I was standing back and watching other people shine. The me who felt a sense of belonging in a family of oddball actors and crewmembers who seemed like reflections of myself.

    Then we released the short. And it seemed to resonate with people. I was proud of what we’d done. Proud of who I’d become. And I couldn’t wait to write the next. Except I couldn’t.

    I couldn’t think of another idea that felt good enough. I’d start brainstorming, judge everything I wrote as cliché and uninspired, then delete it all, like a frustrated kid scribbling over a coloring book page filled outside the lines.

    Endless blank pages mocked and pressured me, telling me I was a sad excuse for a screenwriter and I better get it together soon because time was running out.

    It was like I was timing myself running a mile, except I was too scared of my potential inadequacy to move my legs. So I just stood there, staring at the finish line in the distance, losing confidence as each second ticked by on the maddeningly loud stopwatch inside my white-knuckle-clenched fist.

    It took me a year to finally commit to an idea, one my boyfriend and I had explored years prior, this time for a feature film. This story seemed obviously meant for me to write, given the themes and parallels to my own life experience. And once again, it felt like magic.

    That idea swallowed the track whole, the finish line and stopwatch instantly engulfed, surrounding me in the vast open space of inspiration and possibility. And it filled every crevice of my available brain space. Whether I was flossing, folding laundry, of feeding my fish, I was filming it in my head.

    Characters, plot points, and symbols came to me with surprising regularity, and though the words didn’t always flow, when they did, it was just them and me. A universe of sparkling ideas I was floating through, weightless, oblivious to the world of stresses and struggles I’d left far below.

    It all sounds kind of corny and over-romanticized, I know, but that’s how it was. Life can sometimes feel unbearably serious, overwhelming, and urgent. Like it’s just one fire to put out after another. But when we’re creating, time seems to stand still. The flames freeze, far off in the distance, and all we can see is what we feel in our hearts about what we’re bringing to life.

    It took me over a year to write the film, with the help of a talented mentor who taught me things I didn’t know I needed to learn and showed me possibilities I didn’t know to create. But I did it. Draft after draft, I crafted something that felt meaning and beautiful and true.

    Then I re-wrote parts after getting a budget to make it more affordable to film.

    And then recently, once again, I stalled. To be fair, I’m currently spread a little thin, and pregnant, which, as you may know, can be physically and emotionally exhausting. But I’ve also procrastinated on the action steps to get this made because I’ve felt inadequate and scared.

    I’ve questioned whether this is a realistic goal, given that lots of people try to raise money for films and fail.

    I’ve doubted my aptitude for producing, reminding myself that I’ve worked in solitude for over a decade and possess the networking skills of a feral cat.

    I’ve even considered that maybe I’m actually an untalented hack who misled herself into believing she has something new to offer, when really she’s just a one-note blogger who should stop fantasizing and stay in her lane.

    All the while I’ve paralyzed myself with endless comparisons, juxtaposing prolific filmmakers’ portfolios against my embarrassingly vacant IMDB page.

    I’ve known for a while I needed to write a pitch for investors, and I’ve had many open windows when I could have begun working on it. But instead I’ve read celebrity gossip. And emailed my sister about inane life events that really don’t need to be rehashed. And scanned my growing stomach for stretch marks while eating small cups of cereal, as if five small cups are somehow better than one average-sized bowl.

    But this week, I did something different. This week I made one tiny choice that finally enabled me to get out of my own way: I decided to stop judging and start doing.

    I decided to stop judging my work—to suspend my disbelief about whether it’s good enough and act as though I know it is.

    I decided to stop judging myself—to stop berating myself for the skills I think I lack and simply focus on the task in front of me.

    And I decided to stop judging the process—to consider that maybe every slow, timid step happened exactly how and when it needed to, so there’s really no reason to paralyze myself in shame.

    Then I wrote one short section of the pitch. And another the next day. And another the day after that. I wrote what I could, as best I could, in small windows of time that felt manageable, until my energy and focus ran out.

    I’m not finished yet, and I have a ways to go, but I have a start. I’m sure I could improve what I have, but at least I have something. And in time, I’ll make it stronger.

    This isn’t an easily accessible path for perfectionists. We want to do it all, and perfectly, right now. We don’t want to take it slowly, or allow ourselves to be incompetent while we learn, through practice, how to excel.

    We want to speed down the highway of consistent progress toward our goals. We don’t see the speed bumps and detours as valuable because we take them all so personally—as if we could somehow find or create a more smoothly paved path if only we did better. If only we were better. But it’s all valuable.

    This is how we grow—all of us. By doing. By allowing ourselves to be where we are until we learn to get beyond it. By learning from every struggle and setback. No one can jump from zero to a hundred. No one can wake up an expert on something new. We simply have to go through the process.

    We can use all our energy questioning, doubting, and judging, or we can use it to move forward, one tiny, imperfect step at a time, knowing we’re getting closer to our goals every day.

    I’m not gonna lie—this isn’t easy for me to accept. I would rather do only what I know I can do fast and well. I would rather not risk being judged as inadequate. And if I could, I’d spend forever floating in that universe of sparkling ideas instead of hopping my way through an obstacle course of logistics, often feeling blindfolded. But I know this is what it takes to evolve and put myself out there.

    It’s messy and confusing and frustrating. It’s hard and scary and uncertain. There are no guarantees as to where it will all lead, or if the time invested will feel worth it in the end. But every great story involves risk and hardship. And every inspiring hero soldiers on, perhaps temporarily disheartened at times, but never down for the count.

    In the end, she might not get what she wants, but she usually gets what she needs. She grows into someone stronger and wiser. Someone better able to live, love, and experience life with more passion and less fear.

    So maybe I’m not the girl who cried film. Maybe I’m just a human being, like the rest of us, learning to get out of my own way and doing the best I can. My story might be slow and imperfect, but it’s still going. I’m still going. And I know I’ll go a lot further if I choose to stay focused on that.

  • Why We Need to Stop Hiding and Share the Beauty in Our Brokenness

    Why We Need to Stop Hiding and Share the Beauty in Our Brokenness

    “Out of perfection nothing can be made. Every process involves breaking something up. The earth must be broken to bring forth life. If the seed does not die there is no plant. Bread results from the death of wheat. Life lives on lives. Our own life lives on the act of other people. If you are lifeworthy, you can take it.” ~Joseph Campbell

    Head on my pillow, tears in my eyes, a list of to-dos in my brain, I felt unable to move my body. I’d worked so hard to leave behind this person who stayed in bed avoiding life. But someone’s angry words had pierced my soul, and I once again was a prisoner to my bed, my thoughts, and my anxiety.

    It wasn’t so much the disagreement that stung, but the chuckles and snide “You can’t really believe that?” More than “mansplaining,” he was patronizing and questioning my intelligence.

    I tried to stop the personal attacks by “setting up boundaries,” as they say. No doubt I did not express myself in a calm, clear manner, as my blood was boiling. However, I tried to protect my integrity during the argument for the first time in this particular relationship.

    What now, though? Concern for the future of this relationship was what was now spiraling out of control in my head and overwhelming my thoughts.

    In retrospect, the fight hadn’t left me paralyzed with anxiety; it was the new way of dealing with belittling behavior that I had allowed myself. This was unchartered territory.

    I had dared to make a change in a relationship. Now, I was awash with the resulting questions about what came next and if I’d done the right thing.

    Without leaving my bed, I catapulted myself out of yet another comfort zone by reaching out to a group of supportive people. Phone in hand, I scrambled to type the message before I could think myself out of it.

    A few days before, a friend and I had heard author and activist Glennon Doyle speak. She encouraged the audience to speak our truths, “Blow shit up, and walk away like Wonder Woman.” So, that morning, as I licked my wounds, I told my truth to a safe audience.

    Like a dog offering up his belly in a display of vulnerability, I spoke the truth of where I was. I pulled back the curtain and said life has knocked me down. Can I get a hand up? The responding support was worth the risk.

    Not long after, I heard the song “This Is Me” from the movie The Greatest Showman for the first time. I rushed home and looked up the lyrical version on YouTube. I sat and absorbed the rising beat.

    I read the words as Kesha belted them out. Words like “Today, I won’t let the shame sink in,” and “I am bruised. I am who I’m meant to be. This is me.”

    My soul surged. I sucked in the words and rhythm like air. I marinated in the meaning, replaying it over and over.

    I wanted to announce my bruises too. I’ve battled depression my entire adult life; “this is me.” My latest psychologist diagnosed me with generalized anxiety disorder; “this is me.” No one knows about my battles with bulimia, but “today, I won’t let the shame sink in.”

    I headed off to the gym with my new warrior anthem playing in my head. I’m pumped. I greet everyone with a huge smile on my face. This is my happy place.

    I got to an exercise requiring balance, which I lack. My arms are flitting around being more comical than helpful. The lady next to me says, “See? You’ve worked it out!”

    Wait, what is she seeing? I’m flailing around like a fish out of water, and she sees “worked it out?” This sends me back in my head thinking about the song and my story and my struggles.

    I rushed home and wrote the truth about all the messiness that lies beneath what people see. I wrote about how I “worked it out” through my battles with mental illness, not despite them.

    I started telling my truth and in doing so, embracing it. With every scribbled word, I accepted my wounds a little more.

    I wrote about all the things that I thought I had to keep hidden in order to be presentable. My struggles had been my flaws, my “dirty little secrets.” I wanted to tidy up the pieces of my broken world before I could let anyone in.

    I had it all wrong. Our scars are the proof that we are living and growing. Our strength is that we have battled with demons and are still standing.

    Just look at the natural world. It transforms flaws and mistakes into beauty all the time.

    The pearl starts as an intruding piece of sand. Protecting itself from the intruder, an oyster creates a thing of value.

    Quartz is naturally colorless, but if iron mistakenly mixes in, it turns a beautiful purple, resulting in amethyst. The bodies of long-extinct creatures are now our fuel.

    The power of the universe is on display when it turns decay into value. There are no wasted failures in nature. They are simply transformed and renewed.

    What if beauty begins when the imaginary ideal is broken? What if the universe needs the messy, broken, and failed to demonstrate its power to make the defective whole? What if we have that same power to turn our battles into our beauty?

    I’m convinced now of the inherent beauty of the damaged parts, and that we must resist the temptation to air brush our lives as if they are cover girls. Hiding robs us of our divine power to turn our broken pieces into something wondrous.

    The broken bits don’t go back together the same way as before, though. We may have to mourn that fact. For example, life after divorce will never look the same. Mourning that loss is healthy, but shouldn’t forever immobilize.

    The caterpillar has no choice but to transform into a butterfly. We, however, can impede our transformation like I did through shame, guilt, denial, and hiding. There is so much value that can come from our damaged, defeated souls if we open them up to the light.

    To courageously tell our truth allows others to see the beauty and hope in the battlefield before them. We are so much more than what life has thrown our way. We are the warriors who are still standing no matter how many times we had to get off the ground. When we become vulnerable enough to illuminate our brokenness, we harness the power of the universe to create beauty out of failure.

  • Being Happy Doesn’t Mean That Everything Is Perfect

    Being Happy Doesn’t Mean That Everything Is Perfect

    “Being happy doesn’t mean that everything is perfect. It means you’ve decided to look beyond the imperfections.” ~Unknown

    We are all on a mission to be the best we can be, to be happy, to have the perfect house, family, partner, and job. To complete our to-do list, to complete out bucket list, to make our parents proud, to get promoted, earn more money, and be successful.

    Life can often feel like a never-ending treadmill, going quickly in the wrong direction. As we run faster to try to progress down this path, the goal becomes more elusive.

    Are we setting ourselves up to fail in this quest for the perfect life? And will it even result in our one main aim: happiness?

    I’m beginning to think that our quest for success and happiness is, in fact, the main reason we are unhappy.

    We place such high expectations on ourselves—to progress at work and be successful, to meet the same pressure to be perfect at home—and we feel we have to conform to the media ideals we see every day in terms of our health, our looks, our weight.

    As if that’s not hard enough, we then look at everyone around us feeling like they’ve got it mastered and we’re falling short.

    We often don’t realize that what we see in others and the media is only the best side. It’s not a full picture, so it’s unrealistic to expect ourselves to achieve this. We’re setting ourselves up to fail.

    I spent years doing all of the above, climbing the corporate ladder, trying to conform in a bid to please people, and it made me unhappy and unfulfilled. The perfect life always seemed just out of reach, and yet my life on the outside might have looked ideal to everyone else.

    I thought there must be another way, so one day I gave it all up and set on a journey to rebuild my life around my passions and restore my happiness.

    I learned a lot about myself and learned, from others, how people become happy and how we can live an authentic, perfectly imperfect life. I’ve learned that:

    • Things won’t always go according to your plan
    • The to-do list will never be complete
    • You’re doing the best you can with what you’ve got, and that is as perfect as it can be
    • No one has a perfect life (despite what it may look like on Facebook or in a magazine)
    • Happiness is not a point you arrive at in the distant future when you resolve all your problems and achieve perfection.

    So often it’s our quest for perfection that stops us from being happy.

    We plan our weekend and then get upset when it rains, disrupting our plans. This prevents us from enjoying the fact that it’s the weekend, and we get to spend time with those we love, doing what we enjoy (even if it rains).

    We want our to-do list to be complete, and of course it never will be, because as fast as we cross things off, more stuff will appear on it. We never quite have the right amount of money saved, so we work harder to get there, that perfect point in the future, with enough money to be comfortable, which of course never exists because we always want more.

    We look for a partner with no faults, when being human means we’re always going to have some.

    We expect for things to turn out the way we’d like them to, but life isn’t like that. It’s full of ups and downs. Even for the happiest of people, the storms will always come.

    We search for the perfect job, one we will enjoy every day. Yet every job will have its highs and lows. Even the rich and famous, who get to play sports or music and make a living from their passion, complain about the travel, the schedule, the media, and the pressures of fame. Every silver lining has a cloud, and the reverse is also true, because true perfection is always imperfect.

    It’s because of our desire to achieve perfection that we worry about making the wrong choice. We come to a fork in the road and we want to make sure we go in the right direction, but how can we know, since we can never see the end of the path at the beginning?

    I regretted not having the courage to leave my corporate job when I was offered the chance of redundancy money. Instead, I hung on for another year in a job I didn’t enjoy and delayed my dreams.

    It took me a while to realize that there are no wrong choices; every choice has ups and downs, and there is no such thing as a perfect outcome.

    When we chase an unrealistic expectation of perfection for our life and expect happiness to follow, we’re missing the point. Happiness is available all along in those imperfect moments scattered throughout our everyday life.

    A recent party I threw springs to mind. It was supposed to be a barbecue, but the weather didn’t cooperate; my outfit got torn just before the guests arrived, so I had to change; and the recipes I’d planned were seeming harder to pull together than I thought. Then there was the fact that I’d woken up that morning with the start of a cold.

    As we sat inside drinking wine and laughing together with the few dishes I had managed to prepare, I realized that while it was far from the perfect evening I’d planned, it was still lovely. We were surrounded by friends, everyone was having fun, and it was perfectly imperfect.

    It’s all too easy in today’s society to get caught up in the cycle of always wanting more. Our house, car, and partner were once new, and we thought they were perfect, everything we wanted. Then the novelty wore off and it became apparent that this was not the case, so we began searching again, back on a quest for perfection.

    When I’d ticked off the things I thought I wanted, when I had it all—my corporate career and all the things I’d bought with it—I sat on the deck of my dream beach house and felt empty inside. I knew this wasn’t the recipe for happiness; after all, I had everything I’d ever wanted yet felt unfulfilled. I’d clearly been missing the point along the way.

    Happiness is about loving what we have rather than chasing down the things we think we want. If we can focus on what’s good in every imperfect moment, we’ll all feel a lot more fulfilled.

  • Why Striving For Perfection Is Actually Holding You Back

    Why Striving For Perfection Is Actually Holding You Back

    “The thing that is really hard, and really amazing, is giving up on being perfect and beginning the work of becoming yourself.” ~Anna Quindlen

    I used to strive for perfection in every aspect of my life. I thought perfection would make me “acceptable” to others.

    Deep down, I felt inadequate, insecure, and not enough. And subconsciously, I decided that if I could just achieve perfection with myself, my body, and my life, than I would finally feel the deep love and inner acceptance I longed for inside of myself.

    As a kid, I demanded a perfect report card: only straight A’s would suffice. I spent hours upon hours studying in high school and college, doing extra credit, attending office hours any chance I could get, all in a desperate attempt to maintain a 4.0 GPA.

    As a young adult, I agonized over what career path to pick, wanting to pick the perfect job that would be my dream career. I was desperate to be the best, wanting to be the perfect employee, and giving nothing less than 150% in every project I worked on and presentation I did.

    I was terrified to make a mistake and required excellence in every task. I was afraid of others judging me. I didn’t see it my mistakes as learning experiences; I saw them as a way of others seeing what I didn’t want them to see: that I was flawed, imperfect, and somehow not enough.

    I demanded perfection in every part of my life. But the area I struggled the most with was the desire for body perfection.

    As a teenager, I decided that 110 pounds was the “perfect” body. I spent years trying to whittle my body down with exercise, diets, and restriction in an attempt to get the figure I deemed flawless.

    The pressure I put on myself to be a size 2, to eat only 1200 calories a day, to spend at least 45 minutes at the gym daily was agonizing. I lived and breathed this obsession of needing and wanting to be perfect.

    Looking back, I can see how detrimental this drive was to living and enjoying my life. In my chase for perfection, I put unnecessary pressure on myself to be something I was not. I wasted hours and hours trying to be someone different and wishing I was somewhere other than where I currently was.

    But the biggest lesson of all was that in my quest for perfection, I wasn’t really living.

    The reality is that striving for perfection holds us back. We spend so much time doing, striving, achieving, in an endless quest to get it all “perfect,” and we end up missing out on what life is really about: being in each moment and experiencing life where we are, as we are.

    I vividly remember New Year’s Eve in 2007. One of the dear friends I had met living abroad in Thailand was in town and wanted to see me. She wanted to do dinner with a group of people, then head out dancing for the ball drop.

    I agonized over this decision to go or not. I remember wanting to meet up with her, but feeling so awful about my body not being “perfect” that I didn’t want to go out and have to “hide” my body in baggy clothes.

    It pains me to say that I didn’t go. I gave up a chance to catch up with this dear friend, to have fun with others, and to dance the night away because I was unhappy with my body. I stayed home that night and ran on the treadmill in my parents’ basement.

    It was the ultimate low in my quest for body perfection: I decided that I needed to burn off what I had eaten that day and work to “fix” myself into a smaller size.

    The anxiety I felt about eating more calories at a restaurant, when I already felt “fat” in my body, pushed me to stay home and run on the treadmill. It was a moment of life that I missed out on because I was desperately pursing a perfect body.

    When we’re caught up in the pursuit of achieving the perfect body, finding the perfect mate, landing the perfect job, or being the perfect person, it actually hinders us from seeing how beautifully our journey is unfolding right before our eyes.

    Perfection detracts you from the incredible life path you’re on and prevents you from seeing the gifts that are always in front of us. So the next time you get caught up in the endless pursuit of perfection, here are three things to remember:

    1. Perfection isn’t attainable.

    We try so hard to achieve an ideal in our lives that is next to impossible. There really is no perfect body, perfect job, or perfect life. It isn’t possible to have our lives be happy, joyous, and 100% problem free. Unexpected tragedies happen. Something doesn’t turn out as you hoped it would. Someone you love disappoints you.

    When you understand that perfection isn’t actually something you can achieve and maintain forever, you can let go of the never-ending quest for your job, your body, your parenting skills, or your relationship to be perfect.

    Letting go of this unattainable goal is a huge sigh of relief. We don’t have to try to be perfect, because it’s impossible anyway! Once we relax into the idea of letting go of perfection, life becomes easier, less stressful, and a lot more fun.

    Perfection leaves little room for error and joy, and while life can sometimes be messy, it’s during these times where we learn and grow (and have some adventure along the way).

    2. Perfection isn’t authentic.

    When you’re always striving to be perfect, you miss out on showing the world who you truly are. Years ago, when I was in the throes of dieting and restriction, trying to be “perfect” in my eating and my body, I wasn’t being true to myself. I was hiding from the world, desperately trying to conceal what I thought were imperfections.

    In the drive to be perfect, I never allowed myself to be vulnerable—to show up and let myself be seen. I thought when I’d reached perfection, I’d find approval and acceptance. But since the pursuit of perfection is an endless chase, the approval and acceptance never came.

    It was only when I had the courage to drop my unattainable goals and bring my true self to the world, imperfections and all, when I began to find the inner acceptance I had wanted all along.

    It was scary to show up as who I was without wearing a mask or pretending to be someone I was not. But I began making decisions for and from me.

    I quit my job and traveled for a year without an agenda (giving up a well-paying, secure job in the process). I ended a relationship that was no longer serving me (letting go of a man who was also my best friend). I took Spanish classes, wore a bikini to the beach without a cover up, told friends I wasn’t into partying anymore, and began to speak up for what I wanted and what I thought.

    It wasn’t easy or comfortable, but it was incredibly freeing. I felt vulnerable and naked, but as I began to express my honest opinion to others, voice what I needed or wanted, follow my own preferences instead of what was expected of me, and show more of who I was to the world without hiding, it got easier and easier.

    Your imperfect self is enough. Allow yourself to show up in the world as you are. When we’ve demanded perfection from ourselves for years, it can be scary to let go of our ideal and let the world see us as we are. But this is where your true, authentic beauty resides. Not in perfection, but in bringing all of who you are to the world.

    3. Perfection is stagnation.

    No one is meant to be perfect in any area of life, whether it’s your body, relationships, personal growth, habits, or your career, because in a “perfect” world, everything is stagnant. There is no growth and no evolution. It is only through mistakes, missteps, and experimentation that we learn and grow. 

    Looking back on my life, most of my decisions that seemed irrational or didn’t make sense in the traditional way ended up leading me to a path that was a perfect fit for what I needed and wanted. Life is funny that way.

    I quit a stable job, but had incredible adventures traveling South America for a year. I left my hometown to move cross county without a plan, but ended up starting a business that is my true passion. I mistakenly got thrown into a role that I didn’t want at a job, but learned so much about fundraising and development that I ended up enjoying it.

    These “mistakes” allowed me to see how perfection would have actually held me back. If I had followed the “perfect” path, the path without risk, without chance of failure, and the path that felt safe and easy, I never would have had these life-changing personal growth experiences.

    Many people who are striving for perfection in their life path, wanting to plan it all out and have it go exactly how they think it should, end up missing out on some of life’s best surprises and most meaningful moments.

    It is a refreshing way to view life. To allow ourselves to make mistakes is a relief, whether it’s messing up our food plan, getting into a fight with a family member, expressing emotions to a close friend and having it come out all wrong, or experimenting with a new hobby knowing you’ll likely mess up trying to master it. It’s these “mistakes” that allow us to incorporate feedback and chart a new course.

    If we’re constantly striving for perfection, we end up missing out on the lessons we most need to learn. In the pursuit of being flawless, our eyes are always looking three steps ahead of where we are. And as we’re consistently living a few steps ahead, we end up missing out on life’s most precious moment: now.

    Perfection isn’t something you can achieve because it doesn’t actually exist. So the next time you find yourself striving to be a more perfect version of yourself, remember that the imperfect, flawed, vulnerable you is perfectly enough.

  • Stop Trying to Fix Yourself and Start Enjoying Your Life

    Stop Trying to Fix Yourself and Start Enjoying Your Life

    Enjoy

    “You think that the goal is to be over there, and we say the goal is the journey over there; the goal is the fun you have along the way on your way to over there.” ~Abraham

    I have a clear memory of my mother looking at my bookshelves several years ago and commenting, “You’re always reading all these self-help books, and where has it gotten you?”

    I responded with a quip about how I’ll always be working to align my personality with my soul, to which she scoffed and said, “When will you grow up and realize you have a great life, a great job, and great friends—and just enjoy it?!”

    Of course, all I heard was “When are you going to grow up?” Her point, however, was a wise one: Just enjoy your life. She made a similar comment a couple of years later.

    I had just been told the place I was living was going to be turned into an art studio for my landlady. Thankfully, she gave me two months notice to find a new place. But man, I loved my cinder block house on the river and was crushed by the news.

    I called my mom in tears. I complained about how I’d never find someplace else so wonderful and how unhappy things were with my job. I talked about wanting to just sell everything I owned and take a walkabout.

    Mom didn’t say a lot at the time. However, when I got up the next morning I had a long email from her. My favorite paragraph is this one:

    Shannon, you should stop buying all that self-help crap and going off to retreats to find yourself. You are not perfect, never will be, and no one in the world is either. You make mistakes; we all do. Just live with it. You are a warm, intelligent woman—just live the best honest life you can.

    All of my self-help books and years of spiritual study, and my mom nailed it in one simple paragraph. Granted, her delivery could use some work, but the essence of what she wrote was right on. Again.

    I will, of course, continue to read personal development books and go on personal retreats. However, I no longer do those things because I think something was wrong with me. Now, I do them because I love myself.

    However, I think the best message here is to just live the best honest life we can and let that be enough.

    For the majority of my life, I’ve spent massive amounts of time beating up on myself. My inner critic is a loud and obnoxious voice that has seemed unstoppable. My biggest judgment of myself has been how I tend to “slumber” and “awaken” in my consciousness.

    For example, when I was on a personal retreat in the mountains this summer, I was really feeling inspired, in the flow, and motivated to become a successful writer and speaker. I was excited about this new life I am creating and about feeling fully conscious again. I was sure I was going to maintain my awareness.

    Then I came down off the mountain. Once back to the routine of my everyday life, I easily slipped back into distraction. I stopped meditating every day. I played computer games instead of writing. I vegged out to my favorite show on Netflix.

    Once again, my inner critic rose up and I started to get really down on myself. It’s ironic that what inspired me to get out of my funk was my own voice recording from when I had been on retreat. Listening to it, I was reminded that slumbering and awakening are just a part of life.

    I heard myself say, “When we do stumble, when we do fall, when we are capsized, we learn to have compassion and simply laugh at our humanness.”

    I’ve realized it’s so easy for me to get caught up in this idea that I need to be perfect. If I only drink enough green smoothies, go to yoga class, and chant an hour each day, then I can be happy. However, the minute I skip some part of this self-imposed regimen, I beat myself up and feel like a total failure.

    Life is about slumbering and awakening. It’s about falling off the wagon, the exercise routine, the diet, the spiritual practice. Anyone who appears to always be perfectly aligned is most likely not being fully authentic. We are human, and this is what being human means.

    My dear mother, at age eighty-three, has got this message without having read or studied any of the numerous discourses on this subject. She just enjoys her life.

    At the end of the day, what is most important is how we answer the question: Were we kind to one another? And, equally important, were we kind to ourselves?

    People jumping image via Shutterstock

  • Pushing Yourself to Try When You’re Afraid of Failing

    Pushing Yourself to Try When You’re Afraid of Failing

    You Only Fail When You Stop Trying

    “You may be disappointed if you fail, but you are doomed if you don’t try.” ~Beverly Sills

    Before I became a teenager, I developed a characteristic and a disease that went hand-in-hand: I was a perfectionist, and I had an eating disorder.

    While my perfectionism was helpful in succeeding at things such as school and sports, the same perfectionism helped to fuel a dangerous relationship with my own body.

    Fortunately, I received treatment in high school, and I learned to handle my issues related to anorexia and bulimia in healthy ways. This process was neither easy nor simple, but I felt cared for in the arms of recovery. It wasn’t until years later, when I was out of college, that the safety of recovery felt far away.

    Felt far away, I should emphasize. It was tantalizingly within reach, but I was reluctant to seek its grasp. This reluctance was based on my fear—not my fear of asking for help (I had done that before, after all), but my fear of failing at recovery.

    Since I relapsed into an eating disorder in my twenties, going back into treatment felt daunting—I let myself go too long in sickness and poor health, physically and emotionally, because of my trepidation.

    Certainly, one fear was based on living without a disease I had grown to depend upon, but another fear was my unwillingness to ‘fail’ at treatment—if I couldn’t be perfect at it, why bother?

    In the end, this fear kept me from receiving the help I desperately needed. I did not want to disappoint others (or myself) by entering recovery and failing. My disease affected not only me, but also my family and friends. Could I really subject them to the hope of my recovery, only to disappoint them?

    Eventually, I reached the point where I knew I was either going to die by this disease or live another way. As scary as recovery felt, I knew I had to try at life. And that meant trying again at treatment, even if it took several tries.

    Entering recovery—or rather, my long putting-off of entering recovery—was not an easy or perfect process.

    Like a normally calm person losing their temper, I finally had to abandon my pride (I don’t need help! I’m not that bad! Recovering means settling!), and accept the inevitable: I did need help, the disease was that bad, and recovering meant much needed (and deserved) health.

    Through the process I learned that I deserve a life of recovery, no matter how hard it can be, and I also learned how to find the success in moving past the fear of disappointment and into a mindset that strives to try.

    The end result is not guaranteed, and you may even fail, but we can find joy and resolve in the effort.

    Are there areas in your life you have felt the fear of disappointment? Perhaps a new job opportunity, or going back to school? Sometimes pursuing relationships or new passions and hobbies can create this anxiety.

    The process can seem overwhelming, and the fear of failure can loom large. But what if the fear of disappointment did not dictate what we tried to do and who we tried to be? How can we feel confident in trying?

    1. Think it through, but don’t over think.

    Any new undertaking involves discernment and time to think and weigh the options. But sometimes when we overthink, we may talk ourselves out of opportunity due to fear instead of into a worthwhile adventure.

    This doesn’t mean you should take a leap and then tune out your thoughts and feelings. There is something to be said about your instinct and what your gut is trying to tell you.

    When I finally reached out to a therapist that was recommended to me, I did not have a strong connection with her. But my time with her reinforced that healing was possible, and she led me to another therapist who was a better fit and has been instrumental in my recovery.

    2. Find value in the process.

    Some projects in life have definite finish lines, but other times we are called to continue growing. In both cases, the process itself is essential to the work being done. Once I settled into therapy, I was reminded that mental health does not operate on linear time—celebrating simple or little success helped me see the bigger picture.

    For those embarking on a new adventure or trying to undertake a new project, it isn’t too uncommon to worry oneself so far into the future that we struggle with the realities of the present. I know I began to fear how I would handle recovery in future situations, like while on vacation or out to eat with friends. But in each day of the process, I discovered more of my own strength that allowed me to continue on, even in the face of unknowable circumstances.

    Focus on each step of the journey and the outcome will take care of itself.

    3. Talk away the fears.

    Fear and disappointment can ring loudly inside your mind. Letting them out and bringing them to light can help diminish their power. When I sat the people in my life down and explained to them that I was seeking therapy once again, I saw the concern and love in their eyes, and that erased my fear of their disappointment.

    Having the right people in your life who can listen to your fears is a great gift. Allow yourself the freedom to recognize these people and the value they bring. If you struggle to know who to reach out to, consider the power of your word in journaling, poetry, or song writing (or even wordless body movements—dancing, painting, and sculpting, and so on!)

    You may not be able to completely let go of your fears, but expressing them may help you find the courage to act in spite of them.

    4. Find value in yourself, despite the imperfections.

    Since recovery—ten years in—I certainly have failed, by some standards for sure. I have not always made the best decisions. But what has made me successful is the resolve to absolutely never settle into how I used to think.

    My recovery was successful the moment I decided to try. Being patient with the process and gentle with myself even when I experienced setbacks allowed this success to continue.

    Give yourself credit for making an effort and you’ll find yourself motivated to continue.

    Ultimately, we may not be perfect, but we will not be doomed so long as we try.

    You only fail when you stop trying image via Shutterstock

  • We Are Enough and We Don’t Need to Be Perfect

    We Are Enough and We Don’t Need to Be Perfect

    Imperfection Is Beauty

    “You alone are enough. You have nothing to prove to anybody.” ~Maya Angelou

    Every day on TV, the media tells us how we should be and how we should look.

    In mainstream society we are taught to identify with our physical body and our possessions.

    We are led to believe that if we look a certain way, we will be happier, loved more, and accepted by others. I used to believe this. I bought into it hook, line, and sinker.

    I came across a photo of myself taken about twelve years ago, and I looked radiant. The sun lit up behind me, my skin looked porcelain, and I had this amazing red hair.

    I looked at myself and thought how beautiful I was. At the same time I looked at that girl in the photo and she was a stranger. The girl felt anything but beautiful.

    She hated herself, felt unworthy of love, and thought she didn’t belong because she wasn’t thin enough or pretty enough.

    Growing up I was a victim of child abuse and bullying. It played a large role in my thinking in later years.

    My father used to call me his ugly little girl, and he also used to be cruel to my mother, who was overweight at the time. So I knew that when I grew up, I would have to be thin and pretty to be loved.

    I also had thick glasses as a child, and kids often screamed the nickname “fish eyes” across the school bus during middle school years. At that time in my life, my peers excluded me, my father ostracized me, and the physical abuse I endured weighed heavily on my chest.

    Fast forward to college. I was a theatre major.

    My voice teacher got me my first professional gig, and she believed in me. My talent got me leading roles many times, and I felt confident. Then the time came to sit down with an agent to be represented.

    It wasn’t about talent anymore. I was told how my physical appearance didn’t stack up to the competition. I could easily give you the list of all the things that were “wrong” with me. What was right with me?

    I wasn’t pretty enough, which subconsciously meant “not good enough.” I wasn’t asked to sing, or read a scene, or even do the one-minute monologue that I had prepared.

    This was my past, not my present, and definitely not my future. I now know I am enough. And if someone else doesn’t see my worth, it’s okay. I am enough! It’s even written on my yoga mat.

    As a yoga teacher it took me some time to get over the search for the perfect posture. Even yoga magazines post photos of the extremely limber, handstand steady, beautify poised, and lean types. So many think that’s how it’s supposed to be.

    Yoga magazines teach us to identify to our physical body because our eyes take it all in and we believe that’s what yoga is about. The words in the magazines say differently, but our eyes take in the images of yoga models and our brains perceive them as perfectly poised, inferring that this is what yoga is.

    For some, this may be a reason not to practice. There is still this belief that yoga is meant for the thin, agile, and bendy. This isn’t what the practice is about.

    I began my yoga practice to gain self-improvement, and I got self-acceptance. Self-improvement came along for the ride.

    I began to see my worth as a human being. Instead of “thin,” I think “healthy.” Instead of looking for beauty in the mirror, I found it inside of me, and it was there all along.

    Losing five pounds won’t make me any happier. If I do a perfect forearm stand, my life doesn’t change. It doesn’t mean I stop trying or working toward goals, but I stop identifying my body and physical practice with who I am.

    I stop identifying my physical appearance with self-worth. I am not my tight muscles. I am not my weight, or my jean size, or even my yoga practice. I am enough. I am me.

    Some of you may be thinking, “How does a yoga practice do all that?” Time and patience.

    I began my journey unable to touch my toes. The day I did there was no fanfare, no choir of angels singing, no fireworks, and no party. There was room and if felt good.

    The day I was finally able to stand on my head without a wall, something amazing happened. Nothing. If I fell on my face in an arm balance (and I have), the same thing happened. Nothing. No one would stop and stare, laugh, or point, because everyone was in their own practice.

    Over time we begin to put our fears and ego aside. Over time we begin to listen to our body and become more aware, judging it less and loving it more.

    We figure out the lessons we learn on our mat translate to the real world. The world doesn’t change, but our perception of it does.

    Stress doesn’t go away, but the way we deal with it changes. When we are kinder to ourselves, we become kinder to others. When we love ourselves, become compassionate and patient with ourselves, we are able to give it away freely to others.

    I have learned over the years I am not my past. I am not what happened to me, and I am not my physical body. My body is a vehicle that takes me through this world. Yoga is a tool to help me take care of that vehicle while I honor my entire being.

    I am so much more, I have so much to give, and I am perfect just the way I am. As I go through life there will always be someone who will criticize and judge. Let them. It speaks more about them than it does about me.

    I want you to know that you are amazing and perfect just the way you are. Criticize yourself less, love yourself more, and you will be happier.

    True beauty is found within. Almost every class I teach, I will say, “Practice makes…” and wait for an answer. Someone usually shouts, “…perfect!” I reply with, “…progress, because you already are perfect.”

    We have been brainwashed to think that perfection is outside of ourselves. The perfect house, car, family, and life. The perfect body. The perfect pose.

    We have been brainwashed to strive for perfection. All this striving makes us miserable. We can have goals, work toward them, and become better at things, but when we identify them with who we are, it steals our joy.

    A dear friend and teacher says, “Never give up. Always let go.” So keep moving forward, and never give up. You are precious and priceless.

    When we find our true nature, this is where happiness lies. Joy cannot be found outside of ourselves.

    If there is something you don’t like, change it, but don’t identify with it. Every day be the best you that you can be by loving yourself.

    Look in the mirror every morning and pick something nice to say to yourself.

    You may think that this is ridiculous and obvious, but we spend more time looking in the mirror criticizing than honoring ourselves. Make this a daily habit. You can even use a favorite quote or affirmation to set the tone for the day.

    Journal—write down all the things that make you wonderful and read them. Even tougher, read them out loud.

    Another tip toward self-love is meditation. This is scientifically proven to change the chemistry in the brain, reduce depression, and change negative thought pattern among other things.

    The path to love and joy isn’t difficult; however, the tough part is letting go of all the brainwashing from our past and the media. Invest time in you, and the rewards will be great!

    Imperfection is beauty image via Shutterstock

  • 3 Steps To Embrace Your Beauty and Smile More Every Day

    3 Steps To Embrace Your Beauty and Smile More Every Day

    Smiling Woman

    “Because of your smile, you make life more beautiful.” ~Thich Nhat Hanh

    Is there anything more beautiful than a person smiling, or better yet, laughing? I don’t think so. It’s almost contagious.

    You’ve likely seen the YouTube videos of babies laughing and couldn’t help but smile.

    And there’s probably a special person in your life that only needs to smile and you feel your heart lift. Maybe it doesn’t even need to be someone you know. I’ve had this happen to me with a complete stranger.

    When you see someone smiling from ear to ear, filled with joy, you can’t help but smile too. Am I right?

    I live in a walk-able city, so I walk a lot. Sometimes I catch myself trying not to smile or laugh as I walk down the street remembering something funny. But then I’m reminded of this quote.

    Why would I ever want to stifle my happiness and joy? Why would I ever want to hide my happiness?

    One Sunday afternoon I was rollerblading along the beach path, feeling the sunshine on my face, listening to my favorite Spotify playlist, feeling good and smiling for these reasons, when a guy on a bike coming at me from the opposite direction reached out and high-fived me.

    Seriously, how fun is that?

    When my boyfriend calls me on my cell phone, I have it programmed so this silly, grinning picture of him pops up on my screen. It makes me smile every time I see it (which also makes it really tough to stay mad at him on the rare occasion that I am, because who can stay mad when they are smiling?).

    Smiles breed more smiles.

    Life is just better when you approach it with a smile. Plus, you really don’t know how much you can brighten someone else’s day with something so simple.

    We tend to be so serious all of the time. We chart our course based on our to-do lists and we spend so much time worrying about the past or the future.

    We set standards that we believe we need to measure up to in order to be beautiful, successful, important—and the bottom line of it all—to feel good enough.

    When really, all any of us want is to feel like we matter. So, what if it’s not really about measuring up to any arbitrary yardstick?

    What if the secret to feeling like we matter is as simple as looking for reasons to smile no matter what?

    Your smile has the power to transform someone’s day, light up the room, change the vibe, and open you up to opportunities, love, connection, and the present moment.

    Your smile can redirect your entire day toward possibility, fun, adventure, and being carefree.

    I think smiling is the key to letting go and embracing how beautiful we (and life) are right now.

    Here are three steps to embrace your beauty and smile more every single day.

    1. Begin and end with you.

    Most people open their eyes in the morning, roll out of bed, and just start banging away at all the stuff that needs to get done until they eventually climb back into bed exhausted, close their eyes, and then get up the next day to do it all over again.

    Let’s not do this.

    It sounds hokey, but what if you started your day with a smile… at yourself? Yes. Look at yourself in the mirror—into your own eyes—and smile.

    Your smile has superpowers. So why not give that gift to yourself first thing when you start your day and right before you go to bed? It’s like setting an intention, only with action instead of words.

    For the next week, give it a try. Look into the mirror, into your own eyes, and smile. Feel the love and the worthiness wash over you.

    You are good enough. You are smart, beautiful, radiant, stunning, and your smile is a gift to anyone that gets the opportunity to witness it.

    2. Beauty has nothing to do with perfection.

    Especially here in the U.S., we have this very skewed perception of what beauty looks like. Thank goodness that is changing and we are beginning to understand that not one person on this planet is perfect. In fact, our flaws and imperfections are what make us special. They are endearing.

    I’ll be the first to tell you that I’m imperfect. My nose is crooked, I have stretch marks, and I will spare you the rest of the boring details that you will probably say, “whoop-di-do” about because to you, they don’t seem like that big of a deal.

    Let me tell you, for a long time, they were a big deal to me. My point is this: we all think our problems and imperfections are so noticeable or huge, when in reality, they really aren’t to anyone else but ourselves.

    We are our own worst critics. People love you—all of you—including your imperfections.

    3. Embrace what is while being eager for more.

    That being said, it’s okay to want what you want. You want to lose twenty pounds, cut your hair, improve your wardrobe, make more money, buy a bigger house, or find the love of your life?

    Go for it!!

    It’s human nature to have desires, to want to expand and experience more.

    But here’s the catch: do it from a place of inspiration and excitement, not from a place of fear or lack.

    Life is not suddenly going to be puppy dogs and sunshine when you “get there.”

    Look for every opportunity to smile and fall in love with life right now, while you are on your way to any goal that you have set for yourself, and I promise, life will be so much more fun and rewarding. Chasing after something in order to fill a void never pans out.

    Being happy with what is, looking for things to appreciate, seeing the silver lining right here and now, smiling and laughing every day as much as you can, and being eager for more at the same time is the name of the “true happiness and fulfillment” game.

    There are not many situations in life where a smile wouldn’t make things better. So look for reasons to smile.

    Let your light shine. Smile at your loved ones, coworkers, friends, neighbors, and strangers on the street. Smiling breeds smiling, which brings more joy, and who doesn’t want more of that?

    Give it a try and see how much lighter and happier you feel. Your smile is a beautiful gift. Share it.

    Which of these steps are you most excited to practice first?

    Smiling woman image via Shutterstock