Tiny Buddha

Tag: relationships

  • 20 Tiny Changes That Can Completely Overhaul Your Life

    20 Tiny Changes That Can Completely Overhaul Your Life

    “It is better to take many small steps in the right direction than to make a great leap forward only to stumble backward.” ~Proverb

    Ever felt down in the dumps, absolutely sure that you wanted to transform your life but no idea where to start?

    About three years back I stood at that intersection.

    I’d spent years earning one advanced degree after another, until I landed myself a job that paid well but the stress level was so high that I had little room for anything else.

    I’d married a wonderful guy whom I’d fallen crazily in love with, but our relationship had slowly, almost without our knowledge, spiraled downward until it seemed like all we felt toward each other was anger and disdain.

    After years of trying, we had a beautiful little girl, but she has such a strong-willed, determined personality that we clashed on a daily, sometimes hourly basis, and I was ready to pull my hair out.

    Every moment at home, someone was yelling, sulking, or seething.

    Something had to change. I wanted to make things better. More peaceful. More “normal.”

    Except, I had no clue where to start. Or what to do. Or how to make the transformation that I so wanted.

    I started trying anything and everything. A few things stuck. Many didn’t.

    Slowly, a pattern started to emerge: Big, massive, overzealous changes almost always backfired and led to disillusionment and disappointment. Small, tiny shifts in attitude, on the other hand, had a huge cumulative impact.

    I still remember one period where I’d decided to not yell at my daughter, no matter what. I’d decided to become a positive parent and as such, be supportive all the time.

    If you’re a parent, you know how this is going to end.

    I managed to hold it in for all of three days or so. And then, suddenly, on some minor provocation, I let loose. All the dammed up irritation and frustration just came flooding out, while my daughter stared at me in utter shock and fear.

    This wasn’t how it was supposed to go! I actually felt worse now than earlier!

    I didn’t want to give up. So I kept trying.

    As one attempt after other failed, I got more and more disheartened.

    Finally, almost in desperation, I decided to focus on something else entirely—since I seemed incapable of not yelling, maybe, I thought, I can figure out why my daughter behaves a certain way and then try to prevent that situation altogether.

    Suddenly, something magical happened.

    The more I stepped into her shoes, the more I understood why she acted like she did. And the more I understood her reasons, the less I felt the need to yell.

    For instance, she wasn’t just defying me when she refused to wear a jacket—her toddler brain just couldn’t grasp that it was cold outside.

    So instead of asking her to wear the jacket while we were still at home, where it was warm and cozy, I’d wait until we got out and the cold draft hit her before asking her to wear the jacket. And most of the time, it worked!

    It was as if I had deciphered a secret code.

    Now, instead of trying to stop yelling, I started to make a conscious attempt to understand her a little more, and with each little effort, I was automatically yelling a little less.

    And you know the best part?

    Quite without our knowledge, the relationship between my husband and me started to change, as well. I was suddenly snapping and yelling at him a whole lot less, too. And in turn, he started being kinder, gentler, and more the person I had fallen in love with.

    Even in the dog-eat-dog culture that was rampant at my then workplace, people responded with reciprocal kindness and goodwill. And I, in turn, found it a whole lot easier to be a better co-worker.

    It was a beautiful, virtuous circle.

    It’s been three years now. I’ve been focusing on making more and more of these small, tiny changes and they have been paying off big time. Our home is a whole lot more peaceful. We enjoy each other’s company a lot. My relationship with friends is richer. Life is good.

    I still have ways to go, but the change, the transformation that I was seeking, is happening.

    Toward the end of last year, in a moment of quiet reflection, I listed some of the small shifts in attitude that have helped me so, and others that I seek to practice in the New Year.

    I’m sharing them with you here in the hopes that they may help you make the transformation you might be seeking.

    1. Less Anger, More Understanding

    When we can understand why the other person acts the way they do—whether they are three years old or thirty—the need to yell automatically starts to diminish.

    2. Less Complaining, More Gratitude

    When we look at all the wonderful things in life, the things that don’t go well start to seem trivial.

    3. Less Blame, More Guidance

    When we get hurt, it is instinctive to want to make the other person “pay,” but if we can guide the person to fix the situation, things are more likely to get better sooner.

    4. Less Judgment, More Wonder

    We are all unique, different, and a wee bit crazy in our own way. The best way to counter the urge to be judgmental is to cultivate a sense of wonder at each person’s uniqueness.

    5. Less Resistance, More Acceptance

    The more we resist something, the more it persists. The more we accept it, the less it bothers us.

    6. Less Shame, More Vulnerability

    Shame is a deep-seated fear that we are not enough. Yet, it’s a fact that none of us is perfect. When we accept the imperfection and embrace it, the tight grip of shame starts to loosen up.

    7. Less Fear, More Action

    We cannot reason with fear, especially the irrational one that stays in the head. The best way to make change happen is to take action and keep moving forward.

    8. Less Comparison, More Contentment

    Our life seems like a drag when we compare our “behind-the-scenes” with the highlight reel of someone else’s life. Focusing on contentment kills the need to try to keep up with the Joneses.

    9. Less Will Power, More Habits

    It’s scientifically proven that we have a limited supply of will power, and the more we exert it, the less we have for future use. So whenever possible, turn things into habit, limiting the need to use will power.

    10. Less Guilt, More Communication

    We all make mistakes. Communicating how badly we feel and figuring out how to fix things will keep guilt from gnawing away at our happiness.

    11. Less Obsessing, More Balance

    Embrace all shades between black or white, and the need to obsess on the extremes starts to shrink. Particularly helpful for recovering perfectionists like me!

    12. Less Competition, More Cooperation

    Come at things from a place of abundance and seek intentionally to cooperate, and the fear of competition starts to melt right away.

    13. Less Stress, More Fun

    If there is one thing we can learn from kids, it is to have fun. Ever notice how few kids are actually stressed?

    14. Less Greed, More Generosity

    Finding joy in giving is the perfect antidote for a case of the gimmes.

    15. Less Distraction, More Rest

    Seriously, make getting a fixed number of hours of sleep each night a priority, and distractions like social media and television will automatically stop killing productivity.

    16. Less Bitterness, More Forgiveness

    Bitterness only hurts the person carrying it. Forgive those who hurt us and move on.

    17. Less Control, More Flow

    Some things are simply out of our control. Learning to go with the flow helps tone down the urge to control.

    18. Less Stubbornness, More Openness

    What if we are wrong some times? Being open to accepting failure and constantly learning makes life so much simpler and beautiful.

    19. Less Expectation, More Patience

    Start small by delaying gratification with little things. As we learn to be more patient, our expectations of how/when things should turn out start to relax as well.

    20. Less Ego, More Humility

    Easier said than done, but the more easily we can say “sorry” and “thank you” (and really mean it), the less hold ego has on our life.

    —

    What has your experience been? Have you also experienced that small, tiny shifts in attitude can result in huge transformations? What are some of the small changes you’ve made that have resulted in a life overhaul?

  • You Don’t Need Other People to Validate Your Feelings

    You Don’t Need Other People to Validate Your Feelings

    “When you give another person the power to define you, then you also give them the power to control you.” ~Leslie Vernick

    It’s coming up on the anniversary of when I left a relationship that was both my unhealthiest and my greatest catalyst for growth.

    While I’m able to see that he was a spiritual assignment I needed in order to evolve, I can’t help but feel resentful. But what surprises me isn’t my anger at him; it’s my anger at myself. Let me explain.

    Disastrous relationships are nothing new for me. My past is riddled with complicated, codependent, and crazy encounters. To cope, I’ve blamed my partners, I’ve blamed myself, and for a brief period of time, I thought I found the answer in couples therapy. Never before have I been more wrong.

    Like any self-help junkie, I made it my business to learn everything I could about the philosophy behind what I hoped would save my relationship. I attended a lecture by Harville Hendrix, founder of Imago Therapy. He spoke on how we can change the world by changing our relationships.

    That sounded interesting, so I kept listening.

    He went on to explain how we strive to connect with others in order to experience a taste of the joy and love we once received from our primary caregivers. This connection is our deepest desire and losing it is our greatest fear.

    And then it hit me. It’s counter-intuitive to look to relationships to fix wounds from our past. Did I really want to continue that pattern?

    The belief that I might find joy in a relationship because it might temporarily quell a deeper abandonment issue is the exact reason I remained codependent for most of my life. I’d been searching for a Band-Aid to cover a hemorrhage.

    Like most people, I crave the feeling of safety. Whether through touch or through words, validation that I’m worthy was like a drug. And boy, was I an addict!

    So it was no surprise in couples therapy, when our therapist explained to my then boyfriend that he needed to say that he “heard” me and that my feelings were “legitimate” and “made sense” that I felt like I had finally won.

    But that victory was brief. In fact, it depressed me even more. Because none of it was real.

    Why? Because in the midst of a heated battle about whether he was actually going to follow through on a promise he made, a light bulb went off:

    I really don’t need him to validate that my feelings are okay. The fact that I need him to tell me I have a right to feel this way is exactly what’s keeping me in a relationship that’s wrong for both of us. Whether or not another person sees it, I have a right to feel the way I feel.

    It turns out there is a fine line between wanting your partner to understand you and wanting your partner to validate your feelings. For years, I wanted others to confirm that my feelings were okay to have.

    And ultimately, the belief that feelings need to be validated to be valid was the cause of my codependency.

    Here’s what it comes down to: If you don’t believe your feelings are genuine, real, and legitimate, nothing your partner says will make a difference. Whether or not your partner gets you is secondary to honoring your own feelings.

    And while I loved pathologizing what was wrong with my ex, what you give your attention to only grows.

    Taking inventory and focusing on your partner’s inability to understand you will only create a deeper void to fill. All that negativity creates anxiety, blocking your inner guidance, strength, and resilience.

    After all, your partner isn’t going to fix your old wounds. You are.

    For the record, I’m not saying couples therapy is bad or that it wasn’t helpful for me. One just needs a strong sense of self and a clear picture of what they want to achieve.

    So here’s the solution: Give it to yourself. Heal your core fears and wounds and stop thinking that someone else will fix it for you. You can spend the rest of your life craving a connection with others when what you’re really searching for is a connection with yourself.

  • 9 Things to Tell Yourself When You’re Afraid to End a Relationship

    9 Things to Tell Yourself When You’re Afraid to End a Relationship

    “F-E-A-R has two meanings: ‘Forget Everything And Run’ or ‘Face Everything And Rise.’ The choice is yours.” ~Zig Ziglar

    No matter how old I get, no matter how experienced I become, ending a relationship is agonizing.

    It represents a loss, and losses hurt.

    Deep down, I know if I go through with it, I’ll feel freer—well, not right away, but in a little while anyway—but I’d rather crawl under a rock and ignore the whole thing.

    When I was a teen, I went out with a guy who had a major crush on me, although I wasn’t attracted to him. After four months I wanted out, so I completely disappeared! I ignored all of his phone calls, and that was the end of it.

    Another time, I hoped that my boyfriend would cheat on me and get caught so I could find a good enough reason to end things, which eventually happened. And in my twenties, since I lived with my boyfriends, I would just keep quiet, letting things drag on. Cowardly thing to do, huh? Yeah, I know.

    Later, I realized that I disliked conflict. I was afraid of it. I was afraid of the disappointment it would cause in them and in myself. And most of all, I was afraid of failure.

    Today, I’m no breakup wizard. Trust me. It’ll always be hard. But with time, I developed a few thoughts to give me strength to truly voice my unhappiness in my relationships, and they should help you too.

    1. One day these painful moments will be a distant memory.

    Think about your past relationships—the one you had fifteen years ago, the one you had ten years ago, or the one you had five years ago. They aren’t your current reality.

    Whatever current reality you’re living in will also become a memory five, ten, or fifteen years down the road. Thinking this way helped me lessen the importance of constantly keeping them in my mind.

    2. We’ll both be thankful I took action instead of regretful I didn’t.

    When I projected myself into the future without the other person, I imagined an alternate life where both of us were with the right person. I imagined us being happy. And then I’d think: How could we hate each other for meeting the real loves of our lives?

    Of course in the present moment, we’d be regretful, but in a different time of our lives, we surely would be thankful that someone decided to end things so we could be happier. Why not let that someone be you?

    3. Losing someone who makes me unhappy is actually not a loss; it’s a gain.

    Losing someone might make you feel like a loser. But if you think of the action of losing someone who makes you unhappy and wonder what it would feel like, it changes your perspective on things.

    When I did this, I felt strong. Because I then had the willingness to move, correct, and change the course of my life.

    And that’s an achievement in itself. Getting away from someone who brings you torment is the biggest relief. It makes you regain your freedom, your energy, and your life.

    4. Maybe we were meant to cross paths with each other, not meant to walk our paths together.

    Don Miguel Ruiz, the author of The Four Agreements, teaches us that we’re all messengers. We receive messages, or teachings, from people all around us.

    And we receive them at certain moments in our lives. Just as teachers came and went in school, other people will also come and go as life, or the school of life, goes on.

    And if you have nothing else to learn from someone, it’s simply time to take the other person’s lessons gratefully and continue to walk your path.

    5. A relationship is a chapter in my life, not my life’s entire story.

    Imagine being the author of your own adventure book. Picture yourself reading it and finishing a chapter. Then ask yourself: What will happen in the next chapter?

    And since you’re the writer of your own book, you can add as many chapters as you want. This approach really helped me get excited for my next adventure—which I admit, might be a little scary too.

    6. The moments we shared aren’t destroyed; they’re my opportunity to grow.

    We always think that when we break up, we kill everything else that was created from it. You can learn so many things about yourself from your previous relationships. In my case, I learned to be more present, more attentive, and more thoughtful. I learned that I had to give myself emotionally if I wanted to have a stronger relationship.

    Meditating on your past relationships makes you grow, and learning from them improves future relationships.

    7. A relationship isn’t real if I’m not real with myself.

    A relationship is about true communication and intimacy. Whenever you’re not honest with yourself, whenever you’re not true to your feelings, you can’t strengthen your bond with your loved one.

    Having an honest relationship with yourself might be difficult, but it’s critical.

    8. Leaving will hurt, but staying will hurt even more.

    If you can’t stop thinking that you’d destroy your loved one if you left, think about how you’d destroy yourself if you stayed. Bring the focus back to yourself and picture yourself in a distant future being in this exact situation. Do you like what you see?

    This vision made me see a dark portrait of my life. So I understood that I should only worry about how I feel about myself in the present and that I needed to stop worrying about others so much.

    9. I can break free because I trust myself.

    You possess a profound inner voice—an all-encompassing, nurturing, and loving voice. Its purpose isn’t to bring you down, but to elevate you and make you accomplish things that are so great and unimaginable that you can feel gratified beyond belief.

    Your inner voice will never lie to you. It will always express your deepest truth and guide you with the most precise discernment of what will serve your highest good—even if that means getting out of your comfort zone and taking risks.

    It has never let me down, and it won’t let you down either.

    Find the Courage to Break Free

    Sure, it takes courage to break the news to your soon-to-be-ex that you no longer want to go on. I can attest that you’ll doubt yourself. I can attest that you’ll procrastinate. I can attest that you’ll over-think things, wondering if you’ll make a horrible mistake.

    But you’ll feel invigorated once you free your mind and use your intuition as your guide. Know that:

    You are able.

    You are amazing.

    You are strong.

    And you deserve happiness. Whenever you feel stuck and unable to break free, bring up one of the above thoughts to give you strength.

    Then imagine your new course, as if you were walking on air.

  • 4 Ways to Have More Affectionate, Loving Relationships

    4 Ways to Have More Affectionate, Loving Relationships

    Couple Hugging

    “Attention is the rarest and purest form of generosity.” ~Simone Weil

    This morning I was busy French pressing coffee for my husband and me. Everything was going great; I was happily humming along, looking forward to starting my day. My lovely husband came up behind me and bear hugged me gently.

    Now, I’ll admit that I don’t usually take this well when I’m in the middle of something. If I’m cooking (which I’m particularly serious about), I’ve been known to push him away and say something along the lines of “I’m cooking! Back!”

    This is not sensitive or caring. It’s more of a “get-off-me-I’m-working” reaction that I’ve been working on.

    To my husband’s credit, he usually responds fine and continues about his business seemingly undeterred from future affection. I apologize later, and he doesn’t seem to take offense.

    After an interaction like this, I feel embarrassed and ashamed of how I’ve responded to his attempts at closeness. I worry that if I keep pushing him away, eventually he’ll just stay away for good. The very idea itself makes me feel sad and repentant.

    Today, however, when he came over and hugged me from behind, I had enough good sense not to push him away.

    I took the opportunity for some bonding time with him, which made my morning. I actually had to have the conscious thought that I should stop the urge to push him away and instead be receptive.

    Instead of getting caught up in what I was doing, I stopped myself and let him foster closeness between us.

    Today, I was receptive.

    Today, I let myself get swept up in the moment instead of worrying about the coffee getting cold, or burning dinner, or the myriad of other little nagging things that seem more important in the sweet little moments like this.

    My priorities are woefully out of whack if I think that preventing my coffee from getting cold is more important than connecting with someone who isn’t afraid to come over to me for the 4,345 time when I’m in the middle of something, even though he knows he’s likely to get the cold shoulder.

    What if one day he gives up? I’ll admit, I probably would have given up already if I were him. It’s embarrassing to admit that my skin isn’t nearly as thick as his has been when it comes to affection.

    In fact, so often, haven’t I shown through my actions that a deeper connection was not my priority?

    That admission stings. If I’m really honest, in the past, a lack of mindfulness about how I handle affection has led me to prioritize tons of things above my relationships. I have allowed things of little importance to often take priority over connecting with the people who I love most.

    How often do we push our partners away and refuse to connect without quite seeing it that way? How often do we reject their advances, when if we thought about it, we actually desire more closeness? How long do we have before we push the other person away forever, only to wonder later what went wrong?

    Of course, I never consciously intend to make my partner feel rejected, but how often do I reject him anyway, bumbling through our life together? How often could I be nicer, or less stressed, or more receptive?

    How often do the people in our lives who are most important to us suffer because we are too busy, or too clueless to notice?

    No matter what the reason is, what if we’re sacrificing the everyday events that have lasting potential to bring us closer?

    I can do big things that are meant to connect with my partner. For example, I can suggest and plan out a weekly date nights, but if I’m downright cold and repellant in the tender, everyday moments that are his idea, pretty soon, I will drive away the very connection that I truly long for.

    It won’t matter if we try to formally “plan” times to be affectionate or if I make sure to approach him often on my own terms.

    What if we’re doing this not just with our intimate partners, but also with the rest of the important people in our lives? What if we’re providing negative reinforcement when, if we were more conscious of it, we would actually want to allow more closeness?

    It’s so common to take the closest relationships in our lives for granted. That’s why it’s so vitally important to take the time to nurture the little connections that we have with each other, every day. In this way, love is a practice, just like connection takes practice.

    It’s the small things, once again, that truly matter with someone we love. It’s taking the time to listen to them when we’re tired and would rather do something else. It’s not shutting them down when they show us little acts of affection. It’s receptivity and openness to connection, as well as getting our priorities straight.

    Since I’ve been struggling to change this reluctance to connect on someone else’s terms, here are four things that I’ve learned help to bring someone closer in the moment.

    1. Awareness.

    Notice the ways, both small and large, in which others try to create connections with you. If we wait for them to approach us perfectly or in the exact moments we’re thinking about it, we miss so much.

    2. Receptivity.

    Being aware is important, but so is being receptive to a connection. If we acknowledge and then open ourselves to connecting with others, it’s clearly going to foster more connection than if we are aware but not receptive (like my cooking example above).

    Being receptive involves staying aware of the greater good in our most important relationships, namely saying “yes” to more love, more connection, and more closeness from others. It’s not turning down the hug or pushing someone away in the moment. It’s apologizing if we fail at these things.

    3. Appreciation.

    Appreciation is key to positively reinforcing someone’s attempts to get closer to us. If I allow myself to be selfish or distracted and fail to positively acknowledge my partner’s attempts to connect with me, I’m not only pushing him away in that moment, but I’m effectively blocking future connection.

    If I don’t nurture the connections that matter the most to me, I won’t have connections with the people I love. That is the inevitable, preventable, awful consequence of failing to provide positive reinforcement.

    This is about recognizing the little things, with heartfelt thank you’s and big hugs. It’s having an eye toward acknowledging people’s efforts, and providing them with a positive experience when they interact with me.

    4. Reciprocity.

    Rather than saving up our affection and positive attention for when we’re really feeling it (or say, date night), maybe it’s better to make a practice of reciprocating our partner’s affections even when we’re tired, distracted, or not quite interested.

    Giving them the gift of our attention is such a strong tool for nurturing them and the relationship that it shouldn’t be saved for the exact, right moment when we feel like sharing our affections. Maybe it’s more effective to resolve to share and connect with the people we care about whenever they reach out to us.

    And… try not to push your spouse away when they’re happily giving you a bear hug.

    Couple hugging image via Shutterstock

  • When You Fear Emotional Abandonment: Do You Know Your Worth?

    When You Fear Emotional Abandonment: Do You Know Your Worth?

    Alone in the Woods

    “Your value doesn’t decrease based on someone’s inability to see your worth.” ~Unknown

    Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free…says Lady Liberty. She was speaking to immigrants wanting to start a new promised life in America, but those words could be my tagline for the men I have had my most intimate relationships with.

    If you were broken, emotionally unavailable, complicated, and confused, I was your girl.

    I would love you more than you loved yourself, or could love me. 

    I would put all my energy into trying to make it work, trying to help you heal, but I would abandon my own needs or truth in the process, because the desire to recognize or honor my own worth was not as strong as it was for me to show you yours.

    Was I aware of this pattern? Perhaps on a superficial level, but it didn’t truly emerge until I ended my most recent long-term relationship last summer.

    One day the light bulb turned on as I went from six years with a man I was engaged to marry (and before that in an eleven-year relationship that sucked my soul dry) to an emotional affair that had left me more raw and exposed than before.

    I was the common denominator in this series of events, but what was I contributing that left my soul and heart so ravaged?

    I devoted the summer of 2013 to unraveling this mystery. I was done with repeating the same outcome just with a different man.

    My search took me back to my childhood, as it would inevitably for all of us adults struggling with conditioning or behavior that we just can’t seem to let go, even though it does nothing to serve our higher purpose.

    My relationship with my mother could be described as a fractured one, at best. She too was broken from her childhood experiences, which shaped her choices, mostly the not-so-good ones as she aged. The difference is, she chose to stay in that place of unhealing and unawareness, whereas I knew better.

    Through my teens and early adulthood, I struggled with trying to understand her choices, her inability to love me and support me the way that I needed.

    I was not brought up to understand my intrinsic worth, to know what a healthy and nurturing relationship looks like and, most importantly, that I deserved to be in one.

    I turned to the metaphysical, spirituality, and yoga to shed light on what I just couldn’t see.

    With each year, I was able to piece together a little more of my toolkit for understanding, but the toolkit my mother gave me for tolerating emotional unavailability and abandonment in my closest relationships seemed to win out.

    I could support, tell all those around me in their darkest days how beautiful, how amazing they were, but when it came to myself, those words were like bitter-tasting medicine that I just couldn’t swallow.

    Subconsciously, I ached for my partner to help heal me—to echo the sentiment I would bestow to them—but it never came in the quantity or consistency that I required. And it never would if I kept looking outside myself. It was a vicious cycle that had to end.

    Then one day it became clear. Through my search, which I was fiercely committed to, I came upon a psychological term coined by Freud: repetition compulsion. The trumpets sounded, the lights turned on, and in that moment it all made sense.

    Repetition compulsion is an “inherent, primordial tendency in the unconscious that impels the individual to repeat certain actions, in particular, the most painful or destructive ones.”

    Usually, it stems from an unhealed relationship with a parent. So in adult life, we’ll attempt to heal the traumatic event that took place as a child through intimate adult relationships, but the outcome will end up the same.

    It never occurred to me that my relationship with my mother, and all the hurt it brought, would ever affect my adult relationships with men.

    My father and I were very close; he was a friend, a rock in my life. But even so, I kept finding the same man drawn to me or I drawn to them. In essence, they were emotional replicas of my mother.

    I was not brought up with clear emotional boundaries or the ability to validate my own worth—not on the level I required to be a strong, confident woman. I flailed. I would have bursts of drive and chutzpah at times, but I spent most of my energy feeling not good enough, not lovable enough, not worthy enough.

    I talked myself out of many opportunities or shied away from experiences because of my inner demons. In a nutshell, I sold myself really short.

    Armed with this new knowledge, I consulted with a counselor to understand further. In a few sessions and with more reading as the summer wore on, I came to that place of healing.

    I saw, objectively, what had happened and what I wanted to and needed to do differently to end the cycle. This education was put to the test this past winter when I ventured into a new relationship that had great promise.

    All my old fears came up, fears of being emotionally abandoned. And when it looked like the same thing was happening again, I did something that I didn’t know I could do. I said no. No to repeating the same mistake. I set my boundaries, I stated my worth, and I was prepared to walk away.

    I spoke my truth and came from an authentic place when communicating with this newest partner. It mattered not if he understood or heard me; it only mattered that I said what I did and took responsibility for my own outcome instead of placing the power in the hands of another.

    In the end, he did understand, and I was heard. Although we did part ways, I was left with more clarity than I ever had before.

    I don’t regret the path taken or the experiences had, including the heartaches. For each one brought me to this point. The point of seeing my intrinsic worth, something we all are born with.

    We must nurture it firstly within before it will be mirrored to us fully. It’s not about being defined by ego or conceit, but knowing, from an inner wisdom, that others cannot define the value we all possess; only we can do that.

    That being said, I’m still human, and sometimes I catch myself falling into that old, familiar pattern. But before I fall too deep, I bring myself up again. I cannot undo the past, but I certainly can lay the groundwork for my present and my future, cultivating fertile soil where my needs are nurtured and my worth is evident.

    I do not have to fear being emotionally abandoned by another, because I won’t abandon myself anymore. So now the tagline reads, I can help show you your worth, not because yours is more important, but because I firstly see and honor my own.

    Alone in the woods image via Shutterstock

  • Redefining Closure in Order to Move On and Get Living Again

    Redefining Closure in Order to Move On and Get Living Again

    “You can’t start the next chapter of your life if you keep re-reading the last one.” ~Unknown

    I would love to identify as someone who, when her relationships crumble either gradually or all at once, is able to wipe her hands clean and go about her life without any closure.

    I fantasize about the tears, time, and energy I would save if I didn’t feel the need for closure and if I didn’t agonize about trying to have these heartfelt and “necessary” conversations with the people with whom I’ve had falling outs.

    For years, I was shackled to the belief that there must be a formal end to a relationship or role, and until that happens, it’s impossible to move on.

    In life, not all relationships continue to flourish. It’s brave to recognize that and to move on from toxic relationships, or those that don’t contribute to your growth or well-being. But how does one go about that transition when formal closure is not always an option?

    It’s not weird to feel the need for closure. In fact, I wholeheartedly believe that it’s a necessary part of the relationship cycle. The more I explore the notion of closure, however, the more convinced I become that the issue isn’t about closure per se, but rather redefining what closure is.

    When we think of closure, a certain image or idea might come to mind.

    Maybe it’s opposing parties sitting down and talking, crying, laughing in order to get to a place where everyone involved can accept the end or shift of a relationship.

    Maybe it ends with a hug, or maybe it doesn’t.

    Maybe it still hurts, but at least accept that it’s the end.

    It’s hard to create new beginnings when you are preoccupied with old endings. 

    Closure is something to meditate on, because sometimes closure is not found in plain sight.

    The more I think about closure, the more convinced I am that there’s no set formula for it. It can come in millions of forms. If you start investigating closure with new eyes, I bet you can achieve some aspects of it that you weren’t even aware of.

    Closure isn’t always a grand gesture or conversation. Maybe closure is the first time you’re able to set a new boundary, saying “no” when you’re a certified people pleaser.

    Maybe it’s being able to finally go through the belongings of a loved one whose life was taken with little or no notice.

    If you’re confused or having trouble subscribing to this idea, let me share my own closure experience with you.

    My mother has narcissistic personality disorder and definitely displays characteristics of bipolar disorder as well.

    For the better part of my life, our relationship has been very rocky. Since I was thirteen, we have been through multiple estrangements that have lasted minutes, hours, days, weeks, months, and even years at various times.

    These estrangements always seemed so fuzzy. Was it the end of our relationship, or was it a hiatus? I never knew whether I should commit to reviving the relationship or begin the process of moving on.

    Sometimes I wanted it to be final so I could recover from the mental abuse and create a new life where self-loathing was replaced with self-love. But how could I?

    We didn’t have a formal conversation about it. I didn’t feel okay. I didn’t take my mom’s texts that read, “I should’ve aborted you,” or, “You’re dead to me, forget my number” as acceptable forms of closure.

    But what was acceptable closure? I wasn’t sure how much more obvious her message could have been. But I thought maybe she didn’t mean it. I didn’t feel ready to move on, so I didn’t accept that as closure.

    For years, I asked myself, “What am I needing in order to be able to move on?”

    Then I got quiet and I listened.

    I realized that I thought I needed to hear her say sorry, or if she couldn’t do that, for us to be able to sit down and have a rational conversation. I thought that was the only way I could pick up my broken pieces and live a fulfilling life.

    Through years of therapy, education, tears, relying on my support systems, and intense introspection, I discovered that I was never going to get that.

    My mother is mentally incapable of believing she could be even slightly flawed. She is incapable of giving me what I thought I needed.

    Just when I was running out of ways to self-destruct and I felt myself hitting a new bottom, I decided that just because my mother couldn’t help me achieve the type of closure I desired, that didn’t mean that I couldn’t get there on my own.

    I began the life-long process of retraining my brain, engaging in self-love and self-care, and going within to give myself what I needed when others couldn’t.

    I might not have gotten everything I wanted exactly in the way that I had envisioned, but I was able to get myself to a place where I understood and accepted my relationship (or lack thereof) with my mother.

    I was ready to move on and learn to begin a new chapter of my life.

    Some days it comes easier than others. There are times when I want to dwell on how much it sucks that I have to work so hard to feel okay sometimes.

    On the tough days, I am learning to go inward. I practice positive self-talk, celebrate how far I’ve come, and remind myself that closure is not just one thing. I remind myself that I have the power to create all the closure I need if I keep practicing and having faith.

    If you are a creature of closure, there’s no need to shame yourself or to try to change who you are. Maybe it’s about learning to become a detective for closure in your everyday life in order to find it in your own way.

    The path to closure is rarely an easy or clear-cut one, but I invite you to see closure through a new lens.

    As you embark on this journey, remember to be gentle with yourself. It’s okay to acknowledge where there is room for improvement, but please do not overlook successes, no matter the size.

    Meditate on the idea that you possess the ability to find closure on your own in ways you never thought possible. Consider the belief that you could be free. Bask in the notion that you’re in control.

    If you do achieve closure, remember that you’re the one who is responsible for such a feat.

  • We Are More Than What We Do for Work

    We Are More Than What We Do for Work

    Workaholic

    “I’ve learned that making a living is not the same things as making a life.” ~Maya Angelou

    My friend Nick and I were talking one day about our plans for after graduation. We talked about marriage and whether our religious beliefs would factor into our weddings when the time came, or whether our mothers would just run the whole show. Then the question came that grounded me.

    “Do you think that you’ll be a workaholic?” Nick asked.

    I chuckled and said I could practically guarantee it, as workaholism has always been part of my identity—and a proud part, at that. Nick then followed my response by saying, “You know, it’s worse than alcoholism.”

    After laughing off the comment, he continued to make his point. He expressed how he had seen it destroy families and lives. He finished with how it can even be spirit crushing, as the individual loses their sense of passion and uses work to fuel their addiction.

    Although I firmly believe that Nick was misguided in the brevity of his statement, he did have a point.

    Being a workaholic is a problem. It can destroy relationships with those you care about, as well as your body through health issues that accompany stress and overuse, and even your spirit through soul crushing tasks and long hours.

    What seemed like an offhand comment really struck me, and at a good time too, as I was graduating from college and about to start my first adult job.

    I took a little time after Nick left that evening to reflect on my relationship with work and how it had almost become synonymous with my identity over the years.

    In the culture of the United States, it almost seems like what we do is actually who we are. After all, there are many jobs that you can’t turn off, such as being a doctor or a mother—jobs where you’re always on-call.

    And tied with that, so many people have a burning desire to be successful and good at what they do, which seems to involve throwing yourself into your occupation full force.

    When people strive for success in what they do and do not strive for balance, workaholics are created.

    My number one goal has always been to be successful, which I defined as having a steady, challenging, well-paying career. Although my family and friends are important to me, I often put them on the backburner, putting my career and goals ahead of them.

    Reflecting back on Nick’s comment, I have begun to realize how much work has hindered my close relationships. And it has slowly but surely crushed the spirit of those close to me that have workaholic traits. Sometimes they seem so worn down that they appear to have lost their identity and passion.

    I now know that I don’t want to be a shell of a person. I know that there are more important things and that I want to live a full and balanced life, with varied interests and strong relationships. This epiphany-inspired reflection could not have come at a better time in my life.

    As I get ready to start my first real job in the upcoming weeks, I will remember these four things, which I believe anyone can do to have a more fulfilling and balanced life.

    1. Know yourself and your limitations.

    I know myself and I know that work will be a large part of my life because it is a core part of who I am. However, I will remember that, although I want to be successful, I need to maintain balance my life. This means that I will go in and stay for my shift and work hard, but I will not burn myself out.

    I will understand that my health and wellness are an important part of who I am and that, without proper health and wellness, I cannot act as the best employee that I can be.

    2. Focus on overall healthy decisions, mentally and physically.

    In the upcoming weeks as I start my new position, I will focus on health and wellness outside of work. I’ll make overall healthy decisions, not solely working out, but taking the time to relax and re-energize at the end of a long day.

    I will also focus on my mental and relational health by making time for my family and friends and by sharing fun activities with them that help balance me out.

    3. Foster high priority relationships.

    As I get older and progress further in my career, I, like many others, will become constrained by time and resources. In order to maintain the delicate work-life balance that I am striving for, I will take time to foster relationships that matter to build a support system.

    When the time comes and you need a helping hand, your support network will be strong enough to get you through the tough times.

    4. Remember that who you are, not what you do, makes you special.

    Just being me makes me special, and a valuable asset to both my family and friends. Who I am also plays into my career, as it designates my goals and achievements, but I am a multidimensional person with thoughts, beliefs, and interests outside of my employment status, and so are you.

    —

    The key to making all of these four thoughts and reflections a reality is balance. I now know that I need to make time to not only work, but to play as well. I need to know myself, and how I handle relationships, and make them a priority.

    These tips will help guide my life and decisions, as I hope they will guide yours, as well.

    Workaholic image via Shutterstock

  • When We Try to Change Others and Avoid Ourselves

    When We Try to Change Others and Avoid Ourselves

    “I’ve discovered that you can’t change people. They can change themselves.” ~Jim Rohn

    This is indeed a fact—a fact I took a long time to learn.

    You may argue that we help each other change, and it’s true. But the deepest truth is that only we are responsible for our own growth.

    The most difficult work is the seemingly minuscule shift from resistance to willingness, which allows us to face the difficult things we’ve been hiding from, and only we can do this for ourselves. 

    I had boyfriends who had issues. One of them lacked ambition; he was already lost when we met around age sixteen. I, on the other hand, was born with sparks at my heels. It took me two years to have the courage to break up with him.

    I dated another sweet guy who also happened to be lost. His mouth said a lot of things about what he wanted to do with his life, but his body seemed to be paralyzed. I figured this out pretty early on and broke things off.

    Then his cousin called to tell me he was okay but that he’d been shot (wrong place, wrong time they say), and I dropped everything to take care of him. I convinced myself this was the catalyst for his change. It wasn’t. Almost a year later we broke up.

    Then there were other guys with other issues. Some of them frozen in fear from traumatic circumstances and others with kinks they were unwilling to iron out.

    Then I was twenty-nine, and I met this guy I told my roommate was “really great, but not gonna be my boyfriend.” He kept asking me out and he kept having nothing but positive qualities, so I found myself in love.

    And he loved every ounce of me. Suddenly I was wrapped up in a man who thought I was spectacular just as I was, and couldn’t help but tell me every chance he got.

    His unconditional acceptance allowed me to see that I had been busy trying to save men instead of saving myself.

    Only through the cloak of genuine love can we have the courage to face the darkest things about ourselves, things we’ve been hiding from our whole lives. And I was ready for it, so it all spilled right out.

    I saw that my whole life I had been trying to be someone instead of simply allowing myself to be.

    I realized that part of the reason I had been drawn to the men from my past was because helping them gave me a sense of control. I didn’t trust them to figure it out on their own; I didn’t trust myself to be with a man who was genuinely strong because I wasn’t yet.

    I was afraid of losing them and the feeling of worthiness they provided me, so I tried to control their lives and my own.

    I believed I could manipulate circumstances to create my happiness. And one day I woke up to the recognition that trying to control everything in my life hadn’t worked out very well for me, and, frankly, it was exhausting.

    It was simply much easier to accept things as they were; the burden was gone, the trying, the effort, the need for things to be different.

    I wasn’t nudged or asked to work on these things. I did it for myself. Because I needed to.

    So I think we need to stop asking each other to change. We need to embrace who it is we see in the moment and accept them as they are. If they can’t be in our lives in the way we’d like because of who they are in that moment, then we get to make the choice to move on.

    But we can’t force each other to change.

    Sticking around because we see potential, in turn, stifles ourselves.

    We spend so much energy trying to be okay with who we’re with instead of really being okay with them. And if we’re not okay with them as they are, then it’s okay to walk away. It’s okay to walk away.

    I had to walk away from the man who changed my life. Because I had loved and been loved so deeply, the loss of that relationship left me in a deep depression. For the first time in my life I didn’t really care about anything. But it turns out that letting go is one of the gorgeous gifts of life.

    I embraced love and truth and difficult feelings and no feelings at all. On the other side of letting go I was left in the residue of the truth of my humanity; I am always left with myself, and it’s myself that I must remain true to.

    When we desperately try to make something work that just isn’t working, we waste an immense amount of energy and create a lot of suffering.

    So, when we finally walk away we feel light (eventually). We realize we are full as we are and so we attract fullness. When we do this we’re allowing the highest love to come into our lives.

    Something Jim Rohn also says is this, “The greatest gift you can give to somebody is your own personal development. I used to say, ‘If you take care of me, I will take care of you.’ Now I say, ‘I will take care of me for you, if you take care of you for me.’”

    Each relationship I’ve had has become a part of me. The love still exists, and the pain transforms into love when we allow it. The difficult truth is that when someone is hiding in fear or suffering in pain or rejecting our love, we have to allow them to do that.

    We’re not here to fix each other or change each other. Sometimes the best choice is to let go and trust each of us to handle our own journey.

  • Why Conflict Isn’t Bad (And How to Make It Easier)

    Why Conflict Isn’t Bad (And How to Make It Easier)

    “Conflict is inevitable but combat is optional.” ~Max Lucade 

    I used to do everything I could to avoid having conversations that could potentially be challenging or difficult—even resorting to lying or obfuscation if I really felt backed into a corner.

    I didn’t have a good template for what healthy conflict looked like, so every challenging conversation felt like a minefield where I could be attacked, blamed, or shamed at any moment.

    As I got older, and especially as I started dating and getting involved in longer-term relationships, I realized that conflict was actually an inevitable, even necessary, part of co-existing with someone else.

    And, rather than being fraught, defensive, and filled with attack, conflicts could actually be an opportunity for greater intimacy and connection.

    Although I still feel anxiety around conflict and am still very much learning how to handle it in a healthy way, the number one shift that has had the biggest influence on how I show up in conflicts is my attitude toward them.

    When I went from avoiding challenging conversations and viewing them as “bad” to viewing them as an integral part of communication and necessary for a healthy relationship, I felt far less pressure to avoid them and started seeing how they actually could be helpful.

    Difficult conversations are a fact of life. As much as we might try to avoid them, there will inevitably be a time when we uncover a conflict of needs, values, or preferences in relation to someone else, and want to resolve that conflict.

    If you’re currently struggling with difficult conversations in your life, here are five things I’ve found helpful for turning conflicts into opportunities for connection.

    1. Have the conversation sooner rather than later.

    If you address the issue as soon as it comes up, you’re far more likely to have a productive, low-pressure conversation than if you wait until breaking point.

    Storing up our issues and grievances, and then unleashing them as a torrent on the other person (or waiting until the other person expresses an issue to share our own), is unfair and damages trust in the relationship.

    Whether we’re talking with a friend, partner, or colleague, we’re going to foster a greater sense of security in the relationship if we’re able to discuss things when they come up rather than wait until they become a crisis.

    2. Use “I messages.”

    A big shift in my own communication came when I started using “I messages” and expressing myself in terms of my own feelings, needs, and requests rather than focusing on what I thought the other person had done wrong.

    Instead of starting with “I want you to do this/stop doing this,” explain your feelings—for example, “When it’s your turn to take out the trash and you don’t do it, I feel frustrated.”

    Also, make requests based on your needs—for example, “It’s really important for me to feel trust and respect. A part of that is knowing that you’re going to do what you say you’re going to do. Would you be willing to think of some ways you can remind yourself?”

    When we use “I messages,” we stop blaming other people and demanding that they change. Instead, we are simply stating how we feel, what we need, and making requests based on that.

    3. Stick to the facts.

    Most misunderstandings we have with other people arise from the fact that we react to the meaning we attach to the facts rather than the facts themselves.

    If I ask my partner a question and he doesn’t respond, I can jump to all kinds of conclusions about why he is “ignoring me.” Is he angry with me? Does he think it was a stupid question? Doesn’t he care about what I have to say?

    When it comes to difficult conversations, it’s important to stick to the facts and respond to the facts only.

    It’s natural for our minds to want to fill in the gaps and create an entire story from a few puzzle pieces here and there. When we do this, however, the pieces we create aren’t necessarily true, and we run the risk of adding far more tension to the situation than it otherwise deserves.

    4. Be specific.

    When emotions rise, it’s easy to start using generalizations like “always” and “never.” When we tell someone that they “always do X” or “never do Y,” however, we’re more likely to push the other person further away than to heal the conflict.

    Using the example above, if I said, “You never take out the trash when it’s your turn,” the other person’s focus is likely to shift to defending themselves and pointing out all the times when they have indeed taken out the trash instead of listening to what I’m saying and focusing on a resolution.

    Very few people “always” or “never” behave in a certain way, so make sure you take a deep breath and check your language before saying something that could escalate the conversation.

    5. Empathize with the other person.

    Empathy—understanding what it’s like to walk in someone else’s shoes—is incredibly effective at diffusing tension and breaking down defenses. When we feel hurt, frustrated, or annoyed by something someone else has done, we can forget that they probably had very good reasons for doing (or not doing) what they did.

    Approaching the conversation from a place of wanting mutual understanding and empathy rather than merely wanting the other person to change their behavior raises the chance that the conversation will bring you closer together rather than push you further apart.

    —

    Difficult conversations may feel hard, but we can make them easier by following these steps and recognizing the opportunity for connection.

  • I Want a Partner Who…

    I Want a Partner Who…

    The Kind of Partner to Want

    Source: NotSalmon.com

  • 5 Tips to Create a Loving Relationship, With Fewer Disappointments

    5 Tips to Create a Loving Relationship, With Fewer Disappointments

    Happy Couple

    “Love does not obey our expectations; it obeys our intentions.” ~Lloyd Strom

    Have you ever felt less about a relationship when it didn’t exactly pan out like a fairy tale? I sure did.

    I had it stuck in my mind that a great relationship should be picture perfect.

    When reality would give me a sobering slap showing it was far from perfect, I would walk away from a relationship that refused to meet my standards.

    I thought that a relationship is like a flower in a pot, ever blooming by itself. No hard work whatsoever. But the “flower” also has a tremendous thirst for nourishment and requires time and dedication to ensure it grows and blossoms.

    Stubbornly, I believed that when I met my one and only, my life would change for the better. Just like in a romantic movie, I was expecting the credits to roll up the much anticipated “Happy Ending” sign.

    Real relationships have nothing in common with a fairy tale.

    I had to learn that in order to find genuine happiness (in any relationship) I needed to let go of that silly, romantic movie-like metaphor. When I let go of what a relationship should be like, I started enjoying relationships as they were by looking beyond the flaws and releasing false expectations.

    5 Tips to Create a Loving Relationship

    1. Find wholeness instead of expecting someone else to complete you.

    Give yourself and your partner the greatest gift by becoming whole so that you won’t look for a relationship to complete you, or lose yourself and dissolve into another person completely.

    It was challenging to break free from the notion that in order to be whole, I had to find my other half. I also struggled to find a connection with myself outside the walls of relationships. But I was convinced that it was crucial to be able to find comfort in my own company.

    We all want to be happy, and happiness comes from within. Solitude allows us to clear our mind and unwind. It gives us to chance to reflect on what we want to experience to create fulfillment in life.

    Put some time aside. Nurture yourself with the love and attention you deserve. The more you fill yourself with love, the more love you’ll be ready to give. Be kind to yourself. Find your peace and comfort in solitude.

    All great love stories start with loving ourselves first. When we nourish our internal light, then we are ready to share it with the rest of the world.

    2. Focus on yourself instead of trying to change someone else.

    I was determined to change my partner and teach him something that just didn’t appeal to him. I’ve only recently realized that it’s fruitless to try to change someone else, and better to focus on yourself, acting as an example of what’s possible.

    For instance, two-and-a-half years ago I started eating healthy and exercising daily. I became a vegetarian and was excited about the way I felt and the weight I dropped in a matter of a couple of months. Of course I wanted my significant other to feel what I felt. I wanted him to feel good.

    I was forcing him to attain my new healthy habits. It turned into an obsession to see dramatic changes in him in a heartbeat. The result? He became furious and resentful.

    When I quit nagging about what he should do, I gave him space to breathe and be himself. And eventually, when he was ready to change, my significant other turned his eating habits around. He followed my example because he felt compelled, not forced.

    3. Learn to see the extraordinary within the ordinary.

    We often do just about anything to avoid the ordinary, don’t we? For years I couldn’t see the magic in sharing the day-to-day life with the person I love.

    I was comically obsessed with avoiding ordinary, so I wished that each moment would take my breath away, or that my partner would do something that would. I wanted each moment to be epic and filled with glory.

    I had my expectations way up high and forgot how to appreciate all the “little” things—things that might seem ordinary, like going for a walk in the park hand-in-hand.

    I’ve learned how to see the beauty in each moment shared with my loved one knowing that ordinary is extraordinary when you see things through the heart.

    4. Let go of conditions and expectations.

    Have you ever placed conditions on your love? I did.

    When we expect people to give us love in a precise way we yearn for it, we put our contentment in someone else’s hands and suffocate our relationships with impossibly high standards.

    If you’re not happy with something, share your feelings, but consider that love won’t always look exactly as you expected it would. Letting go of heavy expectations gives our relationships room to breathe and allows us to appreciate everything that’s going right instead of focusing on what we think is wrong.

    5. Listen to understand.

    Arguments are awful, aren’t they? They leave us with that bitter aftertaste. Arguments have also made me think less of myself, and the relationship.

    I failed to realize back then that the more we communicate and listen, the fewer challenges we face.

    State your point patiently and listen to what your partner has to say without interrupting them. Construct the bridge of understanding through the chasm of the argument.

    We all want to be heard and understood.

    The biggest problem with communication occurs when we don’t listen to understand; we listen to reply or to fight back.

    I still struggle with the whole “not acting upon emotion” thing; however, I understand that emotions are temporary, but the situations created by them may resonate for much longer period of time.

    —

    When we allow our relationships to be imperfect and accept that we all have imperfections too, that’s when tiny yet noticeable changes occur. We all deserve nourishing relationships that are filled with love, respect, and warmth. Share your light and let yourself be loved in return.

    Happy couple image via Shutterstock

  • How Painful Relationships Can Be The Best Teachers

    How Painful Relationships Can Be The Best Teachers

    “Sometimes the wrong choices bring us to the right places.” ~Unknown

    “This is it,” I thought. I finally found the man I had been waiting for.

    Of course, it had taken me thirty-nine years and a painful divorce from my husband of ten years. But that was all worth it, I told myself, because it had led me to the man who seemed to see, understand, and love me the way I had always hoped someone would.

    Things were blissful in beginning. We made breakfasts together, took romantic vacations to exotic locations, we fantasized about buying vacation houses. Our developing story read like a fairy tale.

    But this fairy tale did not have a happy ending. The once-sweet Prince Charming eventually became cold, distant, and abusive—a man in constant pursuit of new “shiny objects” to distract him from the remnants of his troubled past.

    I was that shiny object…until I wasn’t shiny anymore.

    The clock struck midnight, and I was left with a broken heart.

    There was a firestorm of mixed emotions after the breakup: betrayal, rage, sadness, and disappointment. I wanted someone to wake me up and tell me it was all just a bad dream. I wanted Prince Charming to return so I could feel those loving feelings again!

    I spent countless hours mentally rehashing the details of the story, torturing myself, trying to see precisely why things went wrong.

    This fruitless nonsense only made me angrier and sadder. Then, one day, amidst the noise of the fruitless nonsense, I heard a gentler voice inside me whisper, “Be patient. The most painful relationships can be the best teachers.”

    After I heard that voice, I began to let myself consider that, just maybe, this heinous experience was serving a benevolent purpose I had yet to discover. And that’s when the learning began.

    I recognized that I had been so willing to make someone else the focal point of my life because, deep down, outside of a romantic relationship, I had no idea who I was, let alone how to love myself.

    I had spent so much time after the breakup focusing on my ex-boyfriend’s shortcomings because I was not ready to see that, in some ways, I was just like him.

    I spent the majority of my adult life bouncing from one relationship to another because I told myself that “happiness” was just around the corner; all I needed was the right partner.

    The pursuit of Mr. Right kept me at a safe distance from pain I spent a lifetime avoiding: the acrimonious divorce of my parents at age thirteen and subsequent abandonment by a mother, who left an emotionally unavailable father to raise my sister and me.

    It turns out that betrayal, rage, sadness, and disappointment were actually remnants of my own past; feelings I thought romantic love would magically erase.

    The harder we work to escape unwanted parts of ourselves, the greater the likelihood we will choose relationships that help us find these unwanted parts.

    I thought a relationship with Prince Charming meant I would never have to feel the pain of grief, but what I really needed was to learn how to welcome grief. The feelings associated with grief are our body’s way of inviting us to honor and grow from loss.

    When I decided to stop running away from my feelings, it didn’t take long to discover that avoiding psychic pain is like running in front of an avalanche: When we stop running, all of the once-forbidden feelings cascade over us with such a great force, it can feel as if we will be crushed by their weight.

    At first, it felt like I was dying. I cried with such intensity and regularity that I began to refer to these daily crying spells as “taking out the trash.” The only problem was, there was so much trash that I feared this chore would never be finished.

    I attended weekly therapy sessions, furiously wrote in my journal, and confided in trustworthy friends.

    Through this, I slowly (and I mean slowly) started to see that the life I once thought of as empty was actually quite full. I had my health, two healthy children, a successful therapy practice, the ability to play and sing music, and a village of supportive friends.

    I was so busy searching for happiness outside of myself that I couldn’t see that the makings of happiness were already there, waiting for my own recognition.

    Looking back, what initially felt like a death was actually a rebirth. All of my feelings, even the ones I feared were too destructive, deserve to be acknowledged and felt.

    When we welcome our feelings into awareness, we are taking the first brave step toward accepting all of who we are. This acceptance is the beginning of unconditional self-love.

    Working through grief eventually yielded a life of creativity and abundance that my once fearful heart never knew was possible!

    Bonds with old friends became stronger, I started writing more, and I began to discover activities and interests, both new and old, that brought me joy. Eighteen months after the breakup, I noticed I wasn’t just surviving each day any more; I was actually living a pretty decent life—by myself.

    None of this would have been possible had it not been for the blistering heartache of betrayal and loss.

    So, if you are in the shadowy aftermath of loss and it feels as if you are dying, perhaps you are really in the process of being reborn. It is your own inner wisdom that has led you to where you are, so trust it.

    Though you may feel awful now, remember this is how you feel, it is not who you are. Feelings are temporary energy states that, when given permission to exist, like the weather, move in and out of our conscious field.

    There is no point in fighting your feelings because they will only scream louder until you hear them. Why make them work that hard?

    As you progress through your own journey, gently remind yourself that everything you seek, you already have. You may feel broken right now, and that’s okay. It is important to remember that all of the pieces are there, waiting to be put back together in the form of a stronger, wiser you.

    You might stumble along the path, and that is also okay. Life isn’t like the Olympics—we don’t have to perfect the routine or stick the landing—we just have to keep showing up, trying our best every day to travel our own path at our own pace.

    So, I invite you to ask yourself, “How could this pain be an invitation to grow?” If you are patient and listen closely, the answer will find you. It might be slow and subtle at first, but it will come.

  • How To Respond When Someone Takes Advantage of You

    How To Respond When Someone Takes Advantage of You

    Sad Woman

    “You may not control all the events that happen to you, but you can decide not to be reduced by them.” ~Maya Angelou

    Several months ago, I moved into a new house. During the inspection of my old house, I was expecting to receive my whole security deposit back.

    I didn’t. The landlady took advantage of the situation and withheld part of my deposit.

    She charged me the price of cleaning the whole house even though I was only renting a room in the house. And she charged for me something that was already damaged when I moved in, falsely claiming that I was the one who damaged the item.

    There really wasn’t much I could do. The amount of money she was keeping wasn’t enough to make legal action worthwhile. Nor, obviously, could I force her to give me the money.

    What made the situation even worse is that I had repeatedly gone out of my way to help the landlady. Whenever she asked me for a simple favor, I did my best to oblige.

    The truth is that I considered her a friend. Yet in the end, all she cared about was money.

    Anyone who knows me knows that I’m a calm, easy-going person. It takes a lot to get me upset.

    This got me upset. I ranted. I raved. I yelled. All to no avail.

    I was completely powerless to change the situation, which is probably what caused me to react the way I did.

    I’m not proud of how I acted in this situation. I obviously felt quite frustrated and my feeling of powerlessness fueled my anger.

    At the same time, I know that I could have handled the situation better, that I could have behaved in a more mature way.

    Since this happened several months ago, I’ve had plenty of time and emotional distance to think through what I could have done differently.

    When possible, prepare ahead of time for the worst.

    I was caught off guard. Before the meeting with my ex-landlady, I never considered the possibility that she might withhold part of my deposit.

    If I had a do-over, I would have mentally prepared myself ahead of time for this possibility. The benefit of preparing for the worst is that I would have overestimated the amount she might withhold.

    I still would have been upset about not getting my full deposit back, but much less so.

    Advocate for yourself without losing control.

    Even if you’re in a situation in which the other person has control, you can still advocate for your position. You can try to get the other person to see your point of view and perhaps negotiate an agreement.

    Losing control, however, doesn’t allow the other person to hear our point of view and rarely gets us what we want.

    Instead, losing control can cause situations to degenerate quickly and can lead us to act in ways that we later regret.

    If you calmly advocate for yourself, there’s no guarantee you’ll get your way. But losing control does guarantee that you won’t get what you want.

    Take the higher road and preserve your integrity.

    If the other person has complete or almost complete power over the situation and they refuse to compromise or negotiate, you’re probably best off taking the higher road and preserving your integrity.

    Be the bigger person. Just because someone else chooses to act without integrity, that doesn’t mean that we have to follow them.

    My yelling and ranting and raving accomplished nothing, except to make myself look foolish. And to lower my opinion of myself.

    I don’t want to be the type of person who yells and rants and raves. I want to be the type of person who can assert my position calmly. That’s where my integrity is.

    Acknowledge your own imperfections.

    The truth is that I’m far from perfect.

    Have I ever engaged in similar behavior, being less than honest with someone else, taking advantage of someone else? The answer is yes.

    In Byron Katie’s The Work, she asks us to do “turnarounds” in which we look inward at our own behavior rather than focus outward on other people’s behavior.

    When I did this, I was able to generate a list of times when I’ve taken advantage of other people, just like my ex-landlady took advantage of me.

    If we want others to be honest in their dealings with us, we need to start by changing our own behavior first. Treat others the way you want to be treated.

    Forgive the other person.

    You don’t have to like the other person’s behavior. But you can still forgive them for the choices they’ve made.

    Forgiveness isn’t about the other person; forgiveness is about maintaining our own peace of mind. Forgiveness allows us to let go of anger and return to a state of peace.

    On the other hand, holding onto anger gains us nothing, causes us more pain, and keeps us stuck in the path.

    Get help or eliminate the person from your life.

    In my situation, there was no need to have ongoing contact with the woman who took advantage of me.

    But that’s not always the case. You might be in a situation where someone who is a regular part of your life is taking advantage of you.

    If you are, then you need to take a good hard look at the situation and decide how you want to handle it.

    You might choose to eliminate the person from your life if they’re unwilling to accept responsibility and change their behavior.

    If you can’t eliminate the person from your life, then another option is to elicit help or support from someone else. Someone who has more power to change the situation then what you have.

    —

    Chances are, at some point in your life, you’ve been taken advantage of by someone you trusted. And you felt powerless to do anything about it.

    In the end, we can’t control others’ behavior, but we can control our own. We do have power over our own choices.

    We might feel helpless in these situations, but the reality is that we’re anything but helpless. The next time you’re in a situation where someone is taking advantage of you, I encourage you to take a pause and mindfully decide how you want to handle the situation.

    Sad woman image via Shutterstock

  • Why Walking Away Is Sometimes the Most Compassionate Choice

    Why Walking Away Is Sometimes the Most Compassionate Choice

    “Compassion is not a relationship between the healer and the wounded. It’s a relationship between equals.” ~Pema Chodron

    In May 2012, I was appointed guardian and conservator of my father, and my brother was appointed co-guardian. Our father was declared mentally incompetent by the county court.

    My father was, and is, an alcoholic. When I was growing up, he was an abusive alcoholic. He gave out wounds like gifts. He used words to cut us open, and then he threatened us with salt.

    I lived in hypervigilance, and I learned that being alone, quiet, and invisible was the safest state of being. I was like a bottle—filled up with the wounds my father gave me as his bottles emptied.  

    And then I spilled.

    In therapy, I learned how to heal. I learned how to give myself gifts that were actually gifts, how to love, how to grow, and how to move on.

    Then, my father deteriorated. He was over sixty-five, and had been an alcoholic most of his life. He threatened to kill me, my brother, and my boyfriend.

    He was having flashbacks from Vietnam. He was being abused by strangers who gave him alcohol and drugs and took his money.

    He was hospitalized several times. He threatened to shoot himself. He started answering his door with a loaded gun. He left half-eaten roast beef sandwiches on my brother’s doorstep.

    We exhausted our avenues before petitioning the court to declare him incompetent. Deciding to petition to become the legal guardian of a man who mistreated me, in order to protect him, was the hardest decision I’ve ever made.

    I was trying to practice compassion, to treat him the opposite of how he treated me. I felt sorry for him.

    He was an unhappy man, and instead of going to therapy or AA or changing, he drank. He threw his unhappiness at others. He built walls and imprisoned himself behind them. And he lost everything, even his mind.

    It was hard not to feel sorry for a man who lost so much. In order to save what was left of his life, I went to court with my brother. Out of compassion. And out of hope that maybe something was left, and he could find, if not happiness, then peace.

    If I could do this, I thought, if I could protect him and guard him from harm, then I am showing compassion.

    I was wrong.

    When we were in court, my aunt, my father’s sister, publicly denounced me and used my childhood abuse against me to prove that I was mentally unstable and unfit to care for my father. She lied about my relationship with my father, about my intentions to provide care, and about my student debt.

    A woman who I had not seen in almost ten years, and who was never a close member of my family, proceeded to tell the court about child abuse that she never bothered to stop, in order to claim that I was irreparably damaged from it.

    It was my nightmare made real.

    I spent the next two years struggling to wake up. My father, whose brain was atrophied from drinking, became abusive again.

    As he recovered rudimentary levels of functioning, he also lost his ability to “save face,” and in addition to abusing my brother and myself, he abused the staff at his nursing home and his fellow retirees.

    He was threatened with expulsion on more than one occasion. Under the constant stress and constant abuse, I withered. I tried to stick with it, even though I felt my patience, my calm, my self-confidence, and my happiness eroding.

    I wanted to try to help my father because he was my father. Because it was sad. Because he was sad. Because he was an addict. Because he made such terrible choices. Because I was trying to show compassion. But I had stopped showing compassion to myself.

    When my mother was hospitalized with a brain aneurysm three weeks after having surgery for pancreatic cancer, I was petrified. I spent a month with her in the ICU while she was mostly unconscious, and at some point during that month, I began to realize that I couldn’t take care of everyone.

    I watched her monitor beep and squiggle, and there was nothing that anyone, not me, not the nurses, not the neurosurgeons, could do but wait until they could operate.

    As each day gathered together, I collected them into a gradual epiphany: I couldn’t take care of everyone. I most certainly couldn’t take care of anyone if I wasn’t already taking care of myself. And taking care of myself meant giving myself compassion.

    When I volunteered to become my father’s guardian and conservator, I wanted to prove that I was healed enough to offer him compassion. I had wanted to stop being a person who was wounded, and who received help, and instead become a person who was healed and helping others.

    But these two roles are not distinct. And sometimes they can be filled by the same person. It is possible to be both wounded and healing and healer and giver and receiver, all at the same time.

    Compassion to the detriment of oneself is not compassionate. Compassion needs to begin with yourself. Compassion doesn’t prove anything, or judge anyone, or lift anyone.

    Compassion is loving-kindness, a recognition that we are all the same, that we are beings trying to be, however we are. And that includes yourself.

    I decided to be compassionate to myself, and I quit being my father’s guardian and conservator. My brother quit as well. My father now has a professional guardian tending to his needs, providing for his well-being, and handling his assets. And now I can tend to my own needs, and well-being, and assets.

    Sometimes, despite our best intentions, our compassion toward others falls flat. In an unhealthy relationship, we may need to walk away and extend our kindheartedness, our helping, and most importantly, our compassion, to ourselves.

  • When Someone Blames You: How to Cope with Misdirected Anger

    When Someone Blames You: How to Cope with Misdirected Anger

    Blaming man

    “Life becomes easier when you learn to accept an apology you never got.” ~Robert Brault

    My ex-boyfriend is angry with me.

    I met him soon after he had broken up with his then fiancée, and he thought he was ready to move on, but wasn’t. After many months of messing me about, we ended it. I cut off contact because it still hurt me and I still cared for him.

    Eventually, I wrote to him to see if I could get some closure and to consider if we could salvage a friendship. His reply was scathing, vitriolic, angry. He blamed me for the fact that his ex-fiancée would not give him another chance.

    Yet, he had made those decisions. He insisted that it was my fault, and that I had cost him everything, despite the fact that all I had done was support him and respond to his interest in me. I hadn’t even known him before their breakup.

    Beyond that, we had also been, I had thought, really good friends that had connected on a level that is rare to come across in life. It hurt that the person I thought I had connected with like this now felt so much anger and hate toward me.

    It was difficult not to be affected by that, and it hurt me deeply. I fell into a bit of a depression, and even though I knew I hadn’t done anything to warrant such vicious verbal attacks, I still questioned myself and my actions.

    Maybe I did deserve his anger. Maybe I was worthy of hatred.

    Then it dawned on me. This was not my issue. This was his issue and his inability to accept responsibility for his choices. I had not wanted nor asked for any of it! But how was I going to disentangle myself from the hate he was sending my way? I came to rely on five things.

    1.Know your truth.

    I know deep down that I am not the person he sees me as, that I did not set out to ever hurt or destroy him, that I gave so much more than most would have given to a relationship that was not good for me.

    I know that I am a good person. I know with certainty that his anger is misdirected; it’s not my truth. I’m honest with myself to a fault, and I take on what I deserve to and accept blame and mistakes when I make them. This was not my mistake to accept.

    2. Accept that people won’t see your reality.

    People won’t always see things the way that you do. You cannot make someone see what you believe to be a rational truth, nor will you see it from their point of view. Don’t try to; accept that we all think differently.

    3. Let go.

    It’s not worth your constant wondering and worrying. It isn’t good for you to hold onto it and over-analyze it. Let it go; visualise yourself blowing it all into a balloon, tying it off, and letting it drift away. Feel lighter because of it!

    4. Remember, all actions are based in either fear or love.

    Base yours in love. Realize their actions are based in fear. Often, these fears are ones that no one can reach because they are too deep-seated for the person to acknowledge. Accept that, and continue to operate from your own base of love.

    5. Surround yourself with people and things that make your soul sing.

    Let the angry be angry. Don’t let yourself live that way, and don’t deprive yourself of the things that make you happy because you’re giving time to something out of your control.

    See friends, indulge in books or art or physical activity—whatever makes you feel good. You’re not who they think you are; you’re a good person who deserves to live a bountiful, peaceful, happy life. Go and get it!

    Arguing couple image via Shutterstock

  • Love Shows Up When You Do

    Love Shows Up When You Do

    Love

    “Slow down and everything you are chasing will come around and catch you.” ~John de Paola

    After six months of being single after my divorce, I wanted to date again. I was still afraid of failure and rejection, but I wanted to try. I felt the best way to get over it was to dedicate my time to finding someone new.

    I didn’t know where to begin, but I knew I had a clearer understanding of what I wanted in a relationship. I definitely knew what I didn’t want in a relationship. I thought if I could just find someone with the right qualities, happiness would follow.

    I made a long list of qualities I desired in a man. I signed up on internet dating sites and asked friends to set me up on blind dates. I thought I could get what I wanted by playing the odds, like sending out 100 resumes for a job hoping one company would call back.

    I felt I had learned from my past mistakes and was impatient to find true love. Six months later, after a string of bad dates, I was no closer to finding the love I desired and the whiff of desperation seeped from my pores.

    I started to feel like maybe there really wasn’t anyone out there for me. So, I decided to stop chasing. I began to take care of myself. I decided to be the person I was looking for while at the same time, creating a way for the right man to find me.

    I decided to remove all the clutter from my home and my mind. I threw out boxes and bags of clothes and objects that represented the old me. I wrote daily gratitude lists and stopped thinking about what I didn’t have.

    I started going out to movies alone. I found new restaurants to try. I took long hikes in the woods.

    Once I took my focus off finding the right person, I started to find myself. I could sit for hours on my back porch reading a novel. I would buy myself chocolates and flowers for Valentine’s Day.

    Once I was providing for all of my own needs, I started to smile again. This wasn’t a race—it was my life. I intended to enjoy every moment of it, with or without someone by my side.

    Around this time, I started to think about finding some new friends. I lost half of my friends during my divorce. I was looking for positive people to hang out with that would be interested in the same things I liked to do.

    I started joining book clubs and meetup groups. I went to exercise classes and asked coworkers out for drinks. I started accepting invitations to parties.

    Meanwhile, I still meditated. I still read on the porch and I stopped looking at internet dating sites. I just wanted to have a good time and find some friendly people my age.

    I wasn’t having a lot of luck in the friend department, though. It seemed like I was in a strange age group. When I joined clubs, most of the members were either a decade older or younger than me.

    I wondered why no one my age seemed to go out. I reasoned they must be busy with parenting and working a lot like most people in their thirties and forties. I just wasn’t finding people my age.

    Then one day, sitting around the house doing absolutely nothing, I had an epiphany—I would start a group for people my age to meet and find friends!

    At the second meeting of my group, my future husband walked in the door. I knew I would marry him the second I saw him. And yes, he has most of the qualities on that original list.

    If you’re looking for love and feeling like time is running out, slow down. Breathe, go buy yourself some flowers, and stop trying so hard. Love comes to those who are at peace with who they are.

    Here are some tips for cultivating love while you wait for it to find you:

    1. If you build it, they will come.

    If you can’t find what you’re looking for, create a way for it to find you. I created a meetup group for people my age so I could meet friends in a casual atmosphere.

    2. Be the person you’re looking for.

    The best way to find love is to love you. Spend time exercising, meditating, and cultivating your self-esteem. When the right person does show up, a calm confidence will be far more attractive than fear and anxiety.

    3. Stop and smell the roses.

    It’s not a marathon. You’re looking for the best person to show up, not the first person to show up. When’s the last time you found someone who seemed panicked attractive?

    4. It’s okay to dine alone.

    Many people are afraid to do “couple” things alone. Try going to a play by yourself. You can really have a good time just enjoying your own company.

    Take action toward your dreams, but then step back and let those conditions manifest. Enjoy life and give yourself what you need instead of waiting for someone to give it to you. Meet each day with gratitude and joy in what you do have, and what you wish for will find its way to you.

    Love image via Shutterstock

  • 10 Ways to Let Go and Open Up to Love Again

    10 Ways to Let Go and Open Up to Love Again

    Love

    “A thousand half-loves must be forsaken to take one whole heart home.” ~Rumi

    When I met my first love, my dull black and white life became as bright as a double rainbow. The intense hues of love flooded over me with extreme joy and happiness.

    Soon after meeting, we married and lived together for ten years. Yet, like rainbows and raindrops, our love evaporated and I took our divorce especially hard, soaking in self-pity and sadness while grieving for the past several years.

    After experiencing a painful breakup, you never, ever want to be in a relationship again. A broken heart and pained soul wants to give up on love altogether.

    Why put yourself through so much pain and suffering for a love that hurts and could end?

    The reason to give love another shot, I’ve learned, is that by loving better and deeper, we become even more whole. Our hurt and tears clear the fog around our heart and illuminate the soul.

    The journey to love is a journey to one’s self, your highest, most sacred and loving self.

    There are plenty of obstacles keeping us from loving again. Sad to say, I’ve experienced them all.

    Here are ten way to let go of the obstacles preventing you from having love in your life.

    1. Let go of pain.

    You can’t let go of pain by resisting it. You could avoid the pain for some time, but in order to move on you must fully embrace the pain.

    Embracing the pain means experiencing loss, sadness, and grief. As difficult as it might be, allow the tears to flow and share your experience with your friends and family.

    Write down your feelings and come to terms with the emotions you’re going through.

    Instead of judging yourself harshly for your feelings, wash yourself in compassion for finding the strength to move through your pain.

    2. Let go of trespasses.

    When you break up, you feel like you want to blame everyone for causing your heartache. This includes not just your ex, but also their parents, your parents, their friends, your friends, and everyone in between.

    The only way to stop blaming others is to forgive them. No matter how grave the offense or how unacceptable their behavior, your healing starts when you let go of the gripe. Yes, it was unfair; yes, it was unjust; and yes, they did you wrong. But there’s nothing to be done now but forgive.

    Forgive people, because they, like us, have many imperfections. They know not what they do. They don’t live up to our expectations and have had difficult pasts that we may not understand fully.

    3. Let go of bitterness.

    The way to let go of bitterness toward others is to think of the many positive qualities and experiences you’ve had with them.

    Your ex is not an evil person; they just weren’t the best person for you.

    Instead of being stuck on their flaws and wrongdoings, allow the power of forgiveness to overlook what they’ve ‘done’ to you. Look at what good they’ve done, how much they’ve helped you be a better person, and the happy times you had together.

    Remind yourself of their redeeming qualities. See their light.

    4. Let go of resentments.

    We let go of self-pity and resentments by being more grateful.

    Not only be thankful to your ex and the relationship you shared, but start living a life filled with gratefulness.

    Notice the small things and the big things that are constantly occurring around you.

    Appreciate the kind gesture, the words of encouragement, and the favorable circumstances that unfold in your life.

    Making a small gratitude list as you start or end the day can help you move from focusing on resentments to focusing on thankfulness.

    5. Let go comparing yourself to others.

    What I’ve learned is that no relationship is perfect, and most relationships look good from the outside. Comparing your relationship to others isn’t very constructive.

    Once again, transform bitterness toward others to gratefulness that others have found love in their lives. If others have found love, let that be a message of hope and possibility for you.

    We are each on our own journeys to better understanding ourselves and loving better. Our journey is independent of anyone else’s.

    Your day will come. Your broken love and loss are the seeds of true love.

    6. Let go of expectations.

    We’ve grown up to expect a lot of things to turn out a certain way. But like the weather and weather reports, you can’t count on sunny and bright all the time.

    If we can’t expect good weather, we sure can’t expect a perfect love or a partner to behave a certain way.

    The way to be happy in and out of relationships is to let go of expectations and conditions.

    Your Mr. or Mrs. Right isn’t a certain height, a certain profession, or a specific personality.

    Be open to the magic of possibilities.

    7. Let go of resistance.

    Although love can be painful and heart-breaking, be willing to open your heart anyway.

    Be open to meeting new people, be open to being vulnerable, and be open to falling in love again.

    Love can only bloom if you’re open to love in your life. Set the intention for love to enter again.

    8. Let go of being tough.

    I know the feeling well. “The stronger and more closed I am to others, the less likely someone else will hurt me again.”

    If you close your heart and feelings to others, you may avoid pain, but you’ll also miss out on happiness and joy.

    Seek to be your most honest self. Instead of hiding behind a cloak of someone you’re not, be yourself in the world, which will only make you more attractive.

    By being true to yourself, you’ll also attract people who are better suited for you.

    Being vulnerable means being honest about your shortcomings and sharing your feelings. It’s choosing honesty over trying to look good.

    9. Let go of telling the same story over and over.

    You want to tell the same sad story repeatedly to friends—a love gone wrong, a love soured, a love that fell apart.

    What if that story simply wasn’t true?

    There are many perspectives and stories in every relationship. Are you holding onto a story of resentment and bitterness?

    Are you willing to see a different story? A different perspective?

    Could the lost love have helped you grow? Heal some part of yourself? Learn about an open wound?

    Is the story you’re telling yourself blocking love from entering your life again?

    10. Let go of fear.

    The way to let go of fear is to recognize and embrace it.

    How is fear holding you back? Is it keeping you stuck from living the life you want or the love you desire?

    Call fear out for what it is. What is the worst that can happen if this fear came true? How likely is it that this fear will come true? Have you overcome fears like this in your past?

    When you confront fear and acknowledge it for what it is, you can have an honest conversation with fear.

    Ultimately, a partner is a mirror and guide to help you complete the journey to your truest self. Even if you break up with them, they can be a conduit to healing and being made whole.

    Let go of your blocks keeping you from experiencing joy. Let go and choose love again.

    Couple with flashlight hearts image via Shutterstock

  • Finding Kindred Spirits by Honoring Your Inner Misfit

    Finding Kindred Spirits by Honoring Your Inner Misfit

    Friends

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

    It should theoretically be simple but being authentic is not easy. It takes gumption to assert with courageous conviction “This is me!” and grace to accept what comes after.

    From my first discordant bear cry in a nursery full of normally crying babies, I was different, quirky. My own way of doing things—dresses over jeans, art over sports—made me an early outcast. Nothing I naturally did fit me within my particular society.

    For a while, during a specific section of years, in order not to be misfit, I conformed completely. I lost not only the misfit but also myself, and with each false friendship, however popular, my spirit gradually disintegrated.

    I forgot the organic, things that for me bring me into alignment—nature, certain family members, words, a childhood best friend—while weekend hazes fizzled my concept of identity. In a fog of boozy, belligerent moments, I grasped for something substantial, some shred of tenderness, but nothing was there.

    Various events cleared the fog enough so I could see the way out—alternative schooling, a trip abroad, college. And out I ran. In the clearing of my twenties I realized popularity was the false idol of an insecure twelve year old. Older, I felt free to reject others and accept myself.

    I have devoted this decade to the integration of all my fractured shards. The process of authentic self-resurrection is like solving a puzzling mystery—examine the evidence, look for clues, decipher what is real and what has falsely been accepted to cover up excruciating truths, reach a conclusion.

    My conclusion is that I am most decidedly a misfit. I have not, do not, will not fit.

    I want winnowed “friend” lists, not 1,000+ and counting, a core group of loved ones, where reciprocity is the foundation—of kindness, respect, intimacy, and sharing. I want Saturday night curled up on a chaise with a stack of board games and a bowl of pasta, Sunday brunch with the seagulls.    

    I am an adult who likes stickers, who prefers a bird call to the drone of a machine. I am more comfortable in the company of older people, Disney still makes me smile, and I never feel more alive than when I am dancing with the wind.

    Energy and time are precious gifts. We do not all get a hundred years; some of us die before we take our first breath, others at six, twelve, thirty-one, fifty-eight, or seventy-four. I have bargained with Death during decades of ill health, so I know how precarious Life is. How brief.

    I do not want to misspend on dangerous entanglements what little time I have, to invest where there is little or no reciprocity, or where I feel unsafe. There are enough worthy recipients; I have especially learned that this year, so it is on these nourishing relationships that I focus.

    During a crippling period of sickness, one where I was completely dependent on others—for a bath, or a sandwich—I was humbled. It is easy to take for granted the use of legs, that we have twenty-eight teeth and five senses.

    I have learned this lesson repeatedly but when I literally could not move without collapsing, my days spent almost entirely alone, inside, I had little else I could to but consider not only the why my circumstances were such but also the who, as it was me I had for company.

    What helped me clarify my authentic self during this time of healing? A notepad and pen. These household items helped me synthesize into simple lists decades of self-examination:

    • Who unyieldingly matters to me?
    • Who do I feel cares deeply about me (during the light and shadow times, when I am healthy and sick)?
    • What do I most and least enjoy?
    • What dreams am I passionate about enough to pursue?
    • What are my flaws?
    • What are my strengths?
    • If this were my last day, moment, would I be sad or happy with my choices?

    The lists, because they were succinct, showed me essential truths.

    I saw someone who dreams sometimes more than they act, who around certain types of people gets weak, someone who can be melancholy, who agonizes, who needs to laugh more. But I also saw empathy, intelligence, a free spirit, a musical, imaginative, loving explorer.

    I saw real—shadowy and flawed, light and strong. I saw popular—with myself.

    I also saw a letter writer. Since I’m an old-fashioned soul, who still listens to records, who prefers the twitter of birds, it is no surprise the unfettered scrawl of my pen to an eager recipient excites and nourishes me. Others say this is a flaw; that I need to catch up with modern culture. I say not.

    Before last year this desire was dormant. I had stashes of stationary stored high on closet shelves, stickers and stamps collected and unused, scattered in drawers and stuffed into boxes. I feel more complete since owning and passionately pursuing this previously invalidated aspect of myself.

    Because I prioritized reflection, and went within to my most gnarly corners, I found something hidden, something incandescent, a forgotten romance, a creative reservoir for deep connection.

    My lists showed me the way to myself, then to a community of like-spirited souls. I listened with my pen, I recorded the words, and I heeded their wisdom. Via Interpals and the Letter Writer’s Alliance, I found in places as diverse as England, New Zealand, Russia, Austria, Slovenia, Canada, and Denmark, others who wanted authentic connection.

    These snail mail relationships are based on reciprocity, on honest, open exchanges. To with the hand intimate the what, where, why, when, and how, to take the time to stamp into an envelope a careful selection of thoughts, sorrows, and hopes, is not only to harken back to a time when this practice was regular, but to decipher profoundly what it means to live, and to connect.

    The status of a person cannot be confined to a certain number of words on a briefly scanned page. We are more complex than that. We deserve more attention, and to attend more thoroughly to others.

    Letters taken seriously are generous that way. We ask questions in letters, and lazy words like “I don’t know,” “Anyways,” “It is what it is,” and “Fine” do not merit a stamp, nor do they fill a page.

    My friend asks me to sum myself up in one word and I have to stop and consider not only the genesis and evolution of my story, but the magnificent supply of words I have to choose from. When “quirky” proudly surfaces it fits. And I am no longer misfit in her company.

    My grandpa said we should consider ourselves lucky if, at the end of our lives, we can count on one hand our genuine relationships. These are soul-level authentic connections, those we can be imperfect and honest with, the people who do not want our tears hidden or our smiles false.

    Use your imagination to honor the misfit within. List your truths, make them visible, and see what parts of your honest identity you have stashed away on high shelves. I might be a quirky letter writer, you an eccentric dancer, but as long as we are real with ourselves and others, how can we be wrong?

    Happy people dancing image via Shutterstock

  • Doing What’s Best for Us Even If Other People Don’t Like It

    Doing What’s Best for Us Even If Other People Don’t Like It

    “What other people think of me is none of my business.” ~Wayne Dyer

    I got the call late one Sunday afternoon while sitting at work. “Babe, your toilet tub and shower are backed up.” What?

    “It’s bad babe, and getting worse.” Okay, I thought, I’ll call my landlord.

    “Hello, this is so and so and you’ve got my voicemail. Please leave me a message and I’ll call you back as soon as I can.”

    Damn. Answering machine. Message left.

    Text message time. Left that one too.

    I wrapped up work and raced home. Yuck. It was bad. And like my partner mentioned, getting worse by the second.

    Another call to my landlord gave me another voicemail. Another text followed this time by an email. Still nothing.

    “Babe, you should call a plumber.” My landlord doesn’t like the idea of me calling a plumber on my own. I know this from past experiences.

    “But babe, she’s not returning your texts or calls.” Good point. And it was getting worse. For all I knew my landlord was on a plane heading to Europe.

    Plumber found. One last text to my landlord before I called, saying if I didn’t hear back from her that I was going to call a plumber on my own. Fifteen minutes later I made the call. Anxiety rising.

    Plumber said they would be there in thirty minutes. Ten minutes later my landlord called. No exaggeration to what I’m about to quote.

    “You’re threatening me!?” I wasn’t threatening you. “You call and text and call and text and threaten me!?” I didn’t threaten you.

    “I’m at a Christmas party and I have to deal with this!?” I was shaking. Like a scared little kid getting yelled at by an angry parent.

    “Maybe you should find a new place to live!” I couldn’t even get a word in. “If that plumber comes out that’s on your dime, not mine! It’s probably not even that bad.”

    The plumber showed up. Said it was that bad. That it was a health safety hazard and he couldn’t leave me like that, even after I told him about my landlord, who by the way showed up ten minutes later. Still pissed and blaming me for interrupting her evening.

    “I’ll have someone out in the morning,” she said in a not so nice tone.

    Someone did come. Problem was fixed. Life went on. Comfortably uncomfortable.

    Earth to Zachary. Come in Zachary. This is your wake up call.

    Do you copy? Zachary, do you copy? It’s time to move out of your apartment!

    You don’t deserve to be treated like this! Deep sigh. I copy. I think.

    My girlfriend asked why I didn’t end the phone conversation while the landlord was yelling at me. She said most people wouldn’t let someone speak to them like that.

    I’m not like most people. In fact, for the better part of my adult life I’ve stayed in and returned to painful relationships.

    Four months later and I’m still here. Still comfortably uncomfortable. A prisoner in my own apartment. The apartment I pay for on time each and every month.

    I’m a good tenant. Probably too good, as I allow myself to get pushed around. Almost like I’m bullied.

    Instead of my milk money, I’m giving the bully my rent money. Same thing. Different age.

    Where’s my voice? It’s time for me to stand up for myself. To show up as a man.

    See, I’m always afraid of how the other person is going to react, in this case, my landlord. I can see clearly how fear reverts me to a child like state, afraid of the angry parent. It paralyzes me.

    I have to remind the precious inner child that he did nothing wrong. That he wont get spanked for being a bad kid.

    Okay. Moment of truth. I’m about to send an email finally giving them my thirty-day notice.

    Check in time.

    My body has a surge of adrenaline racing through it. My fingers are almost shaking while I type. Heart beating quickly. Head feels like it’s in a vice.

    It’s just an email Zach. Just an email.

    My landlord can’t hurt me. I’ve done nothing wrong. I have the right to pick and choose where I’d like to live, as well as how I’d like to be treated.

    Deep breath. Let it out. Press send.

    Sent. The part of me that lives in fear is waiting for a quick response. For punishment. “How dare you!”

    I don’t like this part. It’s where I wait for the repercussions of my actions, the part where I drift off into assumption. Like this random thought: My landlord showing up at my place and changing the locks on my apartment. Why? Because I’m leaving and she’s mad at me.

    Wow, that’s a whole lot of assumption. A great big ugly pool of it. Yep. And if I’m not careful I’ll be swimming in it for hours.

    Zach, it’s okay. You sent a kind and heartfelt email thanking her for letting you live there. Someone else’s thoughts and feelings are not your responsibility.

    How is this growth for me? Hyper sensitive to another’s feelings, I’ve stayed in relationships way longer than I should have. A lot of us do.

    Out of fear. Fear of someone being mad at us. Fear of someone being hurt and disappointed. Folks, when we do this we’re only hurting ourselves.

    Bottom line, we can’t be the best person we can be if we are always putting someone else’s thoughts and feelings before our own. What the other person thinks of us is none of our business. If we can detach with love and our side of the street is clean, the rest is up to the other person.

    All we have to do is suit up, show up, and walk through our fears. Lean into our discomfort if you will. Walking through our fears will set us free from the bondage of our minds.

    It’s called having faith and knowing that we are enough, just we are. Faith that we will be just fine so long as we show up and do the work. It’s an everyday practice, and we are worth it.

  • When You Want More Love and Support in Relationships

    When You Want More Love and Support in Relationships

    “You’re imperfect, and you’re wired for struggle, but you are worthy of love and belonging.” ~Brené Brown

    For years, I felt unfulfilled in my relationships. I often felt drained, and as if I was the only one giving and doing things for others.

    I couldn’t quite understand what I was doing wrong and why relationships were so challenging for me. All I wanted to do was to feel loved and supported. Why couldn’t I get that?

    Then, nearly three years ago, after a bad breakup and a ton of other relationship challenges, I reached a breaking point. I knew I had to make some serious changes, so I found myself a therapist, a ton of self-help books, and a few other self-development professionals.

    Through this journey, I’ve learned several lessons that have helped me find and create the fulfilling relationships that I have today. Here are four lessons I learned.

    1. We have to accept people where they are.

    Even though I wanted more depth, intimacy, and support in my relationships, I had to learn to accept that others didn’t always want the same things I did; or, they did want the same things, but they were simply not ready for them at that point in time.

    In learning this lesson, I was able to let go of idealistic dreams that some people would one day change and appreciate those relationships for what they were.

    Many times we are unfulfilled in relationships because we are lying to ourselves. We choose to reject what is while clinging to our own idealistic dream of what could be.

    When we accept relationships as they are, we open the door to connecting with others who are able to give us what we know we deserve.

    2. Love begins on the inside, not the outside.

    One of my all-time favorite passages on love begins, “Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud.” When I was younger I interpreted this as though I had to find someone who was patient and kind, not jealous or boastful, and so on.

    I thought it was telling me that I had to judge other people according to that criteria to determine if it was truly “love” or not. I thought it was about seeking it in the external world.

    Then, when I heard this verse a couple years ago at a friend’s wedding, I had a huge “ah ha” moment: This verse has nothing to do with looking for these traits in other people. It’s telling us that this is the love that we can find within ourselves. 

    It is the love that makes this universe exist and keep it together. It is a love that we all possess.

    We are not meant to seek love externally in the world but to connect to it within so that we can create even more of that love in the world around us.

    The love that we seek is something that we already have. When we make the conscious effort to tap into that inner love and express it in the world, we can then begin to see all the love around us.

    3. It’s more painful to fear being authentic then to actually be authentic.

    I always held back my inner truth in relationships because I feared rejection. Deep down, I felt that I wasn’t good enough or worthy.

    I feared that others would automatically reject me if I expressed my unique, genuine interests and talents. I felt that by blending in with people, I’d guarantee acceptance.

    The reality, though, is that it took so much more effort, more strain, and more heartache to hold on to this fear.

    As I have gradually learned how to simply express my authentic truth in relationships, it has not only made my relationships better, it has also given me more energy that I can put into more proactive things.

    4. We get what we give.

    Even though I often felt like I was giving a lot in my relationships, what I was giving wasn’t necessarily healthy. I often gave to others in order to be accepted and avoid rejection, because I feared being vulnerable. I was giving out of fear, not from a place of inner love.

    If you want others to be more real and vulnerable, then you have to be more real and vulnerable. If you want others to openly discuss feelings, then you have to openly discuss feelings. This doesn’t guarantee they’ll reciprocate, but it opens the door for the type of relationship you’d like to have.

    Many of us know what we desire in our relationships, but we don’t realize the importance of our part. We have the ability to create the tempo. If we are willing to set the example, others will be more likely to follow and reciprocate.

    The more we realize the power of our own actions and align them to our heart’s true desires, the closer we’ll get to creating relationships filled with love, support, authenticity, and fulfillment.