Tiny Buddha

Tag: relationships

  • How Highly Sensitive People Can Feel More Fulfilled in Their Relationships

    How Highly Sensitive People Can Feel More Fulfilled in Their Relationships

    “Truth can be stated in a thousand different ways, yet each one can be true.” ~Swami Vivekananda

    Highly sensitive people naturally bring some really beautiful, love-promoting qualities to their romantic partnerships. But these same qualities can sometimes end up undermining the strength of their relationships. This was true for me in my first marriage and led, in part, to it ending in divorce.

    We HSPs are known for our caring, conscientious, and considerate natures. It matters deeply to us that we do our best to be loyal and caring in our relationships.

    And because we tend to have high standards for ourselves and work hard at being kind supportive friends and lovers, we often successfully create strong intimate bonds with others.

    We also have a knack for being aware of the needs of others. Our ability to pick up on subtle cues makes them feel deeply understood and cared for. On top of all of this, we tend to think deeply about our romantic relationships, giving them much of our mental and emotional energy.

    This is all really wonderful for the lucky partner of a highly sensitive person. It’s part of why they felt drawn to you and nurtured, safe, and loved with you. But things can go downhill fast when our significant other doesn’t behave the same way.

    It’s human nature to be unable to deeply understand what it’s like to live another’s experience. Though HSPs tend to be quite empathic, it’s still nearly impossible to really see through our partners’ eyes. This can be the source of so much pain.

    In my first marriage, I often wondered why I seemed to be the one to show more interest in the health of the relationship. I would ask myself things like, “How can he be okay with going to bed when things aren’t resolved between us?” “Does he even notice that I’m sad?” “Doesn’t he want to help me feel better?” “What’s wrong with him that he doesn’t think to offer some kind words?”

    Because those were things I naturally did for him.

    Those high standards I had for myself about relationships? I had them for him, too. When he didn’t meet my ideas about how we should be with each other, I’d think something was wrong.

    I’d think his lack of consideration and awareness meant he didn’t love me as much as I loved him, that maybe I wasn’t enough for him. Thinking that really hurt.

    That pain, unfortunately, only led to me acting far below my own high standards for myself. Because when we humans feel hurt, we say and do things we wouldn’t otherwise.

    I’d complain, maybe curl up and cry, or give him the cold shoulder. I’d point out how he was falling short, question why, if he really loved me, he wasn’t more affectionate, more aware of my feelings, more interested in resolving issues—in short, more like I was naturally (well, when I wasn’t upset!).

    We’d end up in long conversations that never concluded satisfactorily. He’d end up feeling like he wasn’t doing good enough.

    Because I was aware of subtle shifts in him, I could see how badly I was affecting him. And that would only lead to me feeling guilty and bad about myself, which made things even worse. It seemed like a rock and a hard place that we didn’t know how to get out of. After many years of this, we ended our marriage.

    What a wake up call! Since then, I’ve learned so much and changed my life in major ways, and learned to work with my high sensitivity in ways that not only support me, but also my romantic relationship. I am now very happily remarried.

    Though I had to learn the hard way, I now have a lot to share with others about how to have a mutually loving, supportive, and connected intimate relationship as an HSP.

    Assuming you’re in a healthy, non-abusive relationship, these three tips can help you feel more fulfilled in love and be an amazing life partner.

    1. Honor differences, yours and theirs!

    Just as they must learn to accept our sensitive natures, we must understand that others may not have our superpowers of high conscientiousness, deep caring attentiveness to others, and the uncanny ability to know what they most need to feel good.

    They may not want to resolve issues as thoroughly as you do, because they may not feel things as intensely and as long as you do. They might not enjoy processing or getting to the heart of the matter the way you do—it may even make them really uncomfortable.

    All this can be especially true if your partner’s male, because of some big brain and cultural differences between males’ and females’ approach to relating with others. So he may not be attuned to the play of emotion across your face—or quick to try to make things right for you.

    If you fight to change his brain’s wiring, you’re fighting a losing battle. Instead, when you feel like you know better than he does about how to love well, remind yourself: It’s not better; it’s just different.

    2. Stop holding your partner to unreachable standards.

    Apples will never be as juicy as watermelon! But you can’t make a great pie out of watermelon.

    When I let go of my own high, unrealistic standards and stop comparing, I can actually see the way he does show his care and is loving me. Which is what we all ultimately want: to feel cherished and supported.

    Maybe your partner doesn’t read your mind and give you that hug when you want it most, but he does make kind gestures like offering to take the kids so you can have some quiet time to yourself, or she invites you on some adventure she’s excited about. Look for and enjoy the different gifts your partner brings to the relationship. Let them spice up your life.

    Would you really want a clone of yourself for a partner, anyway?

    3. Attend to yourself.

    We need to keep coming back to giving ourselves loving attention, especially as HSPs.

    When I don’t, I feel empty and needy, and tend to look to my husband to fix it. Which often backfires and I feel even worse.

    When I get complainy or needy or act in ways I don’t like, I know it means I need to pause and notice what I really need. And then take action on it. If it’s something my husband can do for me, I can always ask lovingly for it, without expecting he’ll be willing or able.

    So let them be who they are, and take care of who you are. Nothing fills us up like self-appreciation and caring for yourself the way you like to care for others.

    My love life changed so much once I deeply understood that my way is just one way, not the way to express love for another human being. I can now really feel and appreciate my husband’s unique ways of loving me, and I receive them as big gifts. That allows me to feel truly fulfilled and to easily reciprocate to my sweet husband—in my own unique and special way.

  • How to Overcome Relationship Conflict with the Internalized Other Practice

    How to Overcome Relationship Conflict with the Internalized Other Practice

    “You can only understand people if you feel them in yourself.” ~John Steinbeck

    In the early stages of my relationships, I spent a lot of time trying to figure out what the other person was thinking. Hours of pondering whether they liked me, over-analyzing every text message, and worrying that every fight meant it was over.

    Over time, in a good long-term relationship, these challenges settle down. While longevity is not the only marker of a successful relationship, feeling safe and comfortable with someone over a decent stretch of time is undoubtably lovely. All those fear-based worries and insecurities fade, that feeling of being ‘on your toes’ disappears, and you finally feel like you can settle into something.

    However, a few years into my current and most serious relationship, there was something that continued to be a struggle. That struggle is mirrored by clients in my work as a counselor and relationship coach today. And it’s probably the most important thing we can address, as a partner and human being.

    In order to truly understand and empathize, we need to put ourselves in someone else’s shoes.

    How many times have we heard these words? How many times have we said them?

    And yet, is it something we are genuinely capable of?

    If so, how do we do it?

    I know for myself, it’s much harder than it seems. If I’m honest, my desire to be understood can override a desire to understand my partner. Sometimes I’m mystified as to why they don’t see things as I do. Isn’t it obvious that I’d be upset if you don’t want to spend time with people I love? If I get stuck making all the plans for our next holiday? Frustrated when you don’t speak up? While some of this is just a normal part of being in relationships, we can get stuck in misunderstandings that spell the death of connection.

    For instance, we might actively avoid understanding the people we are closest to. In the early days when they’re speaking of past hurts, we can listen wholeheartedly because we are not implicated in these situations. But if we are the cause of the hurt, we tend to leap to explanations or even excuses before empathizing and accepting. We want to get past the hurt quickly so we don’t have to feel bad or vulnerable.

    I remember once making what I thought was a ‘joke’ comment to my partner, and when they told me how I’d hurt their feelings, I dismissed it because I didn’t perceive it as hurtful. Deep down, though, I knew this wasn’t an isolated incident. I felt ashamed, and for a time this yucky feeling got in the way of me wanting to truly understand.

    This shame I felt at hurting my partner ended up becoming a catalyst for change. I was able to reflect and eventually understand how and why my partner felt hurt, and it completely changed my response.

    I stopped feeling self-protective and was able to apologize from a meaningful place. More importantly, I went forward from there really considering how my words might affect this person I love. And while I don’t always get it right (no one’s perfect), things got much better and we are happily ensconced nine years later.

    I did this by holding an ‘internalized other’ interview with myself.

    When I came across the ‘Internalized Other’ exercise, from family therapist Karl Tomm and used in the narrative therapy sessions I do, I realized this practice could be a game-changer in my relationship as well as many other people’s.

    Because the reality is that understanding others takes practice. Even if you’re innately empathic, genuinely putting yourself in a particular someone’s shoes can be a challenge when you are directly involved with them.

    This is the practice of embodying the full lived experience of an internalized significant other. Internalizing another person for the duration of a deep conversation (with them or with oneself) can make it possible to get out of stuck places, increase empathy, and allow new perspectives to bloom.

    More commonly, it’s a powerful tool used in a relationship therapy/coaching conversation with your partner present. It’s undoubtedly easier to do with a third party interviewing you, but you can try it with your partner where both of you embody the other. This is also something you can do on your own with a journal. The main thing you need is a true desire to put yourself in someone else’s shoes.

    I should mention now, this is not for everyone and every relationship. It’s a challenging process. If you’re in a relationship where you are regularly being undermined or uncared for or things are generally toxic, this isn’t something you should do, and I recommend seeking professional help. But if your mental health and relationship communication is pretty good, then full steam ahead.

    The simplest description of an internalized other interview is that you answer a series of questions as if you are this significant person and not yourself. The questions tend to start light and get more personal and deep as you go on.

    It sounds easy, but it’s incredibly difficult. Most people slip into themselves fairly quickly, especially if we’re discussing a perceived injustice or a hurt. Stuck places hold us captive, but it’s vital we learn to break free from them.

    That’s why it’s important to not just think about the person but try to embody them. If you are doing this in conversation, get up and swap seats. If you’re alone, try sitting in their usual chair or on their side of the bed. Maybe have an item of importance to them in your hands or in your line of sight. You could even put on a favorite T-shirt if that’s not too silly.

    Then begin with some questions. Remember to use your partner’s name regularly to keep reminding yourself that you’re them. In this example, Charlie is trying to internalize Alex:

    1. The simple questions

    What’s your name? When’s your birthday, Alex? Where are you from and what do you like about your hometown? What do you dislike about it? Who’s your favorite musician? Where do you love going out for dinner, Alex? Are you a cat or a dog person and why? What makes you laugh?

    You can have a little fun here, before hitting the more serious stuff. If you slip up, slow it all down. It’s not a race to get everything ‘right.’ It’s about the energy you’re putting into the embodiment process. Take your time with step one. Wait until you start feeling a little more natural answering questions as this other person. This is the beginning of ‘internalizing’ the other.

    2. The personalized questions (that could stir a touch of conflict)

    Why do you keep that top with all the holes in it, Alex? What’s going through your mind when Charlie is cooking dinner? Why did you go out last Friday night even though you were tired?

    As you can see, some of the answers are going to be hard to come by. They might be questions you’ve wanted to ask your partner with genuine curiosity, so here’s your chance to try answer them. You aren’t just guessing though; this is still your interpretation of them. So focus less on getting it ‘right’ and more on the feeling you have of this internalized other person.

    Assume your partner isn’t motivated by selfishness or hurtfulness and go in with some real consideration and generosity of spirit. You’re spending time in their mind, in their heart, which is a privilege. Go back to step one if you’re really stuck here, and keep moving between step one and two until it feels more comfortable.

    3. The relational questions (getting to the heart of the matter)

    How do you feel about discussing this stuff today, Alex? What is your relationship to Charlie? How long have you been together? What drives you up the wall? What do you find most challenging about this relationship, Alex? What do you think the cause of these problems is? What happened last Friday? Can you describe it, Alex? How did you feel when this thing happened with Charlie? What did it get you thinking and wishing in regards to Charlie? What makes you feel more closed or more open with Charlie?

    As you can see, there’s a mix of questions here, ranging from broader relationship struggles and perspectives to more specific incidents. It’s up to you which direction you take this if you’re doing this on your own in your journal, or doing this as a couple without a therapist.

    Diving into something very specific (especially something that happens regularly) can be most helpful though, because these are the places we find ourselves most stuck and can even be the tipping point in whether a relationship continues. Be prepared for lots of emotions to arise here. You may need a hug or a cry, but don’t give up; this is also where the magic happens.

    4. More relational questions (with love and positivity, to wrap up)

    What do you like about being in a relationship with Charlie? What would you like Charlie to know that you appreciate most about them? What would be important for you to let Charlie know, Alex?

    This step is an invitation to bring things down and remember that the other person loves you (even if you’ve just been digging into the ways they’re struggling with the problems). Be kind to yourself. Internalized othering can be just as meaningful when exploring why we are uniquely loved by the other, so don’t stop at the problems.

    When I went through this process on my own, I found myself knocked for six. Intellectually I knew I had hurt my partner. But until I truly internalized their experience, I still believed that if they just understood I hadn’t meant anything by my comment, they would get over it. When I allowed myself to feel their feelings it was humbling. Only then was I able to change. As an added bonus, I find myself being curious all over again about this person on a daily basis.

    Internalizing another can be truly profound. You can solve a specific issue, you can look at a broader set of issues, and ultimately strengthen the flow of love between you. Even if you just do this process once with full commitment, the increase of empathy and ability to lay down defensiveness and become fascinated by someone you love (again) is nothing short of extraordinary.

  • When It’s Time to Let People Go: How I’ve Lightened My Emotional Load

    When It’s Time to Let People Go: How I’ve Lightened My Emotional Load

    “Love yourself enough to let go of the people, thoughts, and habits that are weighing you down.” ~Karen Salmansohn

    More than a year ago I started unpacking and cleaning out my ‘backpack’ of life in a different way.

    I have always tried to remain friends with exes, and even though we didn’t necessarily socialize together, there was still the odd keeping in touch, helping them with a favor, or “Happy Birthday” text.

    While most of them are generally nice people, the truth is that if I never dated them, I probably wouldn’t be friends with them now. We’re just on different paths, have grown in different ways, or have vastly different priorities (or values). Also, some were great manipulators, and for others I was maybe a time-filler.

    Regardless, they were forming part of the emotional baggage I carried in my life backpack every day. I certainly don’t pine over them or even think about them all that much, but I felt a sense of intense guilt at the thought of cutting them off.

    Would I be a bad friend? Would I be a bad person for no longer helping with favors, doing an odd work presentation they needed help with, or being available for emotional support?

    The truth is, their work presentations and financial and emotional well-being were never my responsibility to start with. As a partner, I certainly want to support and build up my partner in love, but taking on these burdens, whether in or out of the relationship, just drove me to feeling guilt and an immense sense of failure.

    As much as I tried, I could never fully solve their problems, take away their pains, or make them happy.

    Ego Introspection—Another Hard Truth

    Another hard truth is that I really was just an easy target for them to shift their responsibilities. Whether it was the work presentation or an emotional off-load, I felt that I had to be there. Why?

    I’d feel guilty if things didn’t work out because I’d said “no”—whether due to their conscious or subconscious manipulation or my own attachment. Maybe I felt a sense of being the hero. Was I dependent on them for an ego boost?

    Stuffing My Backpack to Zip-Busting Stage

    This was taking up space in my life backpack. The thing is, every backpack can only fit so many things. If your pack is full, but you want to fit that extra little thing, you’ll have to remove something else. There’s only so much space.

    Why carry heavy stones in a backpack and then complain that you can’t fit a nutritious lunch, your favorite book, or a jacket to keep you warm?

    This is exactly what I was doing. I was filling my backpack with emotional attachments and baggage that were weighing me down. While they didn’t take up much time in my life, they took up a lot of space in my head.

    Sometimes I removed the stones of guilt or failure, but often I put them back inside. Sometimes I just removed them from the backpack but carried them in my hands instead.

    Because they occupied my time and emotions, I was unable to be vulnerable with others. Some friends withdrew because they knew I always had a subtle attachment lingering in the back of my head. I missed out on many great friendships because I was not fully open.

    Although I was technically free enough to be fully present in other friendships and relationships, there was an underlying manipulation to remain somewhat faithful to the expectations of my ex. They didn’t want me, but they didn’t want to fully free me.

    Unless I completely removed the stones and left them behind, tossed them away, I would never have space for more amazing things in that backpack. In fact, the seams would rip and the zipper would break, and it would be harder to hold anything at all.

    I have witnessed the same thing with some of my closest friends. They keep subtle strings attached to ex-partners or friends that no longer serve their growth and healing. By doing this, I have noticed, they always have their guard up.

    They struggle to be fully open, honest, and vulnerable. They have missed out some incredible friendships because others can sense this. They have hurt some of the most loving and well-meaning people in their lives because they kept gravitating back to an unhealthy attachment and filling their bag with stones.

    Starting to Unpack

    Sometimes letting go requires a frank conversation, but often it can be done by simply distancing yourself intentionally. That’s what I did. No more contact. It took me more than a year to work through the guilt of being a ‘bad friend’ for cutting people out.

    It took hours, days, and weeks of feeling and working through heavy emotions, and then letting them go…over and over. It wasn’t an easy process. It wasn’t a quick process. I loved those I had to let go, but I knew it was no longer serving my growth and healing to be emotionally attached.

    Slowly, I could peel away these sticky layers of attachments that I wasn’t even aware of. The feeling of failure, the attachment to someone who I once trusted, and the attachment to my own sense of being the hero.

    I was concerned that they would now think badly of me, and even worse, that they would talk badly of me to others because I would no longer pick up their responsibilities.

    Letting go, completely, was life changing. I never realized how much emotional and mental space my exes (and even some unhealthy friends who I also decided to distance myself from) were taking up in my mind and heart.

    I didn’t only have to set physical boundaries, but I also had to teach myself emotional boundaries to stop the unhealthy thought patterns. Anger, resentment, guilt… it all had to go.

    I had to get rid of their voices in my head that always had an opinion on how I was living, who I spent my time with, or even what I wore. Keeping any strings attached would just reinforce these little, subtle voices again.

    I finally realized that it would be impossible to truly heal and grow (spiritually, emotionally, and just as a human being) if I kept occupying this space in my backpack with these thoughts.

    Letting Go Doesn’t Mean You Don’t Love Them

    The amount of space I freed up in my backpack for GOOD stuff was incredible. The degree of anxiety that left my life was transformational. I learned that letting go doesn’t mean not loving. In fact, when you truly let go you are freer to feel love from a distance, without any anger, guilt, anxiety, or attachment.

    I truly love those I had to let go, not with a romantic type of fickle love, but in a way that I deeply care. Just because you decide not to engage someone in your life doesn’t mean you don’t love them. It simply means you are committed to your own growth and the path you know is right for you.

    I was finally able to commit my thoughts and emotions to more positive ways of living. I was slowly able to be myself without voices in my head questioning every action I took. I could love others in new, more fully present ways. I became better at setting healthy boundaries and realizing when they were being disrespected.

    I also have a much different sense of love for those I have let go. It may sound contradictory. While previously my love for them largely led me to people-pleasing, guilt when I feared I would disappoint, and anger when I felt betrayed, this was no longer the case. Looking back now, I see that fear, guilt, and anger are not remotely signs of love at all.

    Now, however, if a painful thought comes up, my heart and mind respond with only peace, and I wish them a light backpack too. I might not agree with their values or the choices they make, but my heart feels no painful emotions. I genuinely hope that whatever they are packing in their bags will bring them true freedom—that their souls too may flourish.

    The Journey Continues

    I am by no means done with this journey. I still struggle to trust others and hate feeling vulnerable. But at the same time, I am overwhelmed at the doors this process has opened for transformation.

    Creating the path of least resistance for growth in my life means there is space for good stuff in my backpack. Instead of carrying a heavy load, I often find myself sharing the good stuff in my backpack with others more freely. By that I mean with no expectations or attachment to an outcome.

    Every day brings a new sorting out of this backpack. It’s humbling. What stays and what new things have I stuffed inside that are taking up unnecessary space?

    The longer I hang on to things that don’t benefit my growth and healing, the harder they are to get rid of. Some haven’t been around for too long. If I clean out and evaluate often, it becomes easier to recognize what’s adding too much weight and taking up precious space for good stuff.

    Some things in the backpack once served me very well but no longer do. It takes courage to let these go. You’ll be surprised by how some old, moldy items start making even the good things smell and rot.

    This principle applies to almost any area of our lives, not only to exes or friendships. It can be a family member, a job, or an identity you associate yourself with. In fact, I’ve had to clear my backpack of many of these things too.

    While they don’t always take up physical space in your life, the mental and emotional drain can be intense. Let go of what’s weighing you down so you can be fully present, love better, and grow to let your beautiful soul flourish in lightness. It’s not quick. It’s not easy. But it will transform your life. It transformed mine.

  • Unconditional Love Doesn’t Mean Unconditional Acceptance

    Unconditional Love Doesn’t Mean Unconditional Acceptance

  • When the People We Love Shut Us Out: What I Now Understand

    When the People We Love Shut Us Out: What I Now Understand

    “Have patience that is all unresolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves, like closed rooms, like books written like a foreign language.” ~Rainer Maria Rilke

    I started thinking about a distant relative on a walk in the woods. I had thought about her more often when she suddenly stopped speaking to our family, well over a decade ago. I would reach out to her through email, but after not hearing back over the years, I thought about her less and less and eventually stopped trying to connect with her.

    On this particular walk, I began to think of a common theme in my family where we can go years without talking and wondered how that legacy originated and has been passed on through the generations.

    I thought about Christmas Day, when I was a child watching my mother cry begging her sister on the phone to talk to her. I never did learn the details of why they didn’t talk.

    I’ve heard stories of my grandmother and her sister not talking for decades until the end of their life, when they forgot the past and moved on. Nobody told me why, and from what I understand, they even forgot what transpired to decades lost.

    It reminds me of the time that I stood at my father’s desk as a little girl trying to talk to him, but there was no answer. I thought that I did something wrong, and whatever it was, I told myself that it was my fault.

    I’ve heard stories over the years of my father and his sister not talking and then reuniting years before he passed away. They both loved each other dearly at the time of his death.

    This reminds me of my own familial relationships. When people get mad in my family, or if you make a mistake or go against the norm, they ice you out for weeks, months, and often years. I’ve also learned to go quiet and stop engaging as a way to care for myself and protect myself from the pain, confusion, and heartache. Often there is no avenue to communicate anyway. I’ve learned it is better to keep quiet and keep the pain close and private than to deal with the fallout of trying to communicate.

    So, on this particular day, for no special reason that I knew of other than she came to mind in the quiet and magic of the woods, I texted her to let her know that I was thinking of her.

    She responded immediately.

    “What made you reach out?” she asked.

    “I was thinking of you and wanted you to know that I loved you,” I replied.

    “This means more to me than you know,” she replied. “Would you ever consider talking?” she asked.

    I replied, “Of course.”

    “How should we start?” she asked.

    I said, “Let’s just pick up the phone and start there.”

    We made a date for a few days later to talk.

    I learned in that conversation that she was in a crisis, a full-blown meltdown; the rug had been pulled out from underneath her. She had nowhere to live, and the one person who was center in her life was not well. She hadn’t slept in days and was scared that the place she considered home wasn’t an option any longer, nor safe.

    As I listened to the details of the sad, disappointing, and devastating loss she’d experienced in the past few months, I could hear her panic, fear, and desperation.

    Underneath the panic, worry, and grief, I heard her sweet and soothing voice that I often turned to in my twenties for guidance. I felt that part of my heart that missed her and wished that she had been a part of my life for the past years. Yet, in those hours of our first conversation, I knew that something had changed; something was different.

    She was fifteen years older, which would now make her seventy-seven years old.

    Between her taking notes of what I said, forgetting words to explain certain details, and seeming generally confused, my intuition told me there was something else happening.

    We began talking every day, and when I saw that she didn’t have anywhere to go and needed in-person support, I reached out to my family and enlisted their help due to proximity of where she lived.

    In just a few weeks, we managed to eventually get her to my mom’s home, where she could settle, feel safe, and get her bearings. We could also get a better sense if my intuition was accurate.

    She arrived at my mom’s home by a sheer miracle and divine interventions: phone calls that served as a map app, hotels with no vacancies, and finally an airplane trip my brother-in-law made to pick her up and drive her to safety.

    After a few days, I learned that what I had sensed was true. Yes, the rug had been pulled out from underneath her and life felt as if it were crumbling, but she was also experiencing early signs of memory loss, confusion, and cognitive delays that were not necessarily symptoms of the stress.

    I received a call from someone that questioned me and challenged me for being so forgiving when she’d just vanished and didn’t want to be a part of our lives for years. I haven’t thought of myself as forgiving, but merely understanding.

    What I have come to understand in my adult years is that people shut down, withdraw, or go quiet as a form of protection. It’s a way to survive, to keep it all together, but most importantly, it’s a way to shield ourselves from pain and hurt that is hard to feel or give language to.

    As a young girl, I internalized that when people didn’t talk to me, I’d done something to cause it; that it must have been me. I can still get paralyzed with the fear of causing a rupture in a relationship with someone that I love.

    Sometimes the pain is so great that it leaves me breathless, unable to speak. I’ve gone quiet with my mother for many years of my adult life, my sisters, and my extended family. I also see it in others in my family who shut down and don’t talk.

    We create stories about the people that don’t talk. They are ice cold; they are punishing and selfish.

    I just don’t see it that way.

    I learned that when my father couldn’t talk, he was in a great deal of pain that stemmed back to losing his mother at a young age with no warning that she was ill, even though his father knew. No one ever spoke about the loss of his mother, and yet he shared that he yearned for motherly love. My dad had a sweet and tender heart that was broken.

    I learned that my dad didn’t have the words to talk, express, and emote because often our families who came before us, that they were born into, didn’t have the privileges of therapy, support groups, psychological books, or any other form of self-help or understanding of child development or the psyche. Often, the generations before us were surviving. There wasn’t space to allow for feelings; they learned to shut down their pain and not talk.

    I learned from my mother’s side of the family that pain and feelings aren’t spoken about. You don’t share or give language to hurt; you shut it down. But when you shut it down, it often comes out sideways and it’s hard to tell what is what.

    When children grow up in environments where they can’t feel, it has long-lasting implications on their hearts. They wonder: Do I have the right to feel? Is something wrong with me? How can I make this go away? Can I trust what I am feeling? What’s the best way to shut this down?

    My mother also lost her dad in high school. All she wanted was to get away and be free from the pain. But when I ask her questions to learn more, she can’t totally remember her motivations except to say she wanted to leave.

    In the little details I have about the other spells of not talking, underneath all of them was hurt, pain, and disappointment that goes back in time through the generations.

    While it hurts when people cut off communication and can feel completely personal, there is often a mixture of causes and conditions that have very little to do with us personally. There is something tender that got touched, that they haven’t had air or space to be with. The person is reacting to that history of pain rather than us completely.

    And when we decide to cut off communication or go quiet, the same is true for us. We, too, have tender places that have been exiled off that haven’t had time and space for the heartbreak to be felt.

    Sometimes it can make all the difference to reach out from a place of care and curiosity, even if it’s just to say, “Thinking of you.” And sometimes we just need to be patient while they work through their pain and get to a place where they’re comfortable opening up again.

    Healing heartbreak is a lifelong process that ebbs and flows. There isn’t a timeline. There isn’t a destination. There are causes and conditions that are seen and unseen that help us along the way.

    I see that love is the cure. I see this with the woman I called in the woods. I see this with my own broken heart.

    Love the causes and conditions that each heart holds that are unseen by the other. Love the complexity of our own hearts that we may not fully understand.

    Simply love the mystery of human beings and all the heart holds from the generations before us that did their best.

  • What Makes a Relationship Perfect

    What Makes a Relationship Perfect

  • Caretaking Your Sensitive System for More Love in your Relationship

    Caretaking Your Sensitive System for More Love in your Relationship

    “Sometimes you’ve got to look straight into the tired eyes of the woman staring back at you in the mirror and tell her that she deserves the best kind of love, the best kind of life, and devote yourself to giving it to her all over again.” ~S.C. Lourie

    I learned the hard way that in order to have an intimate relationship (and life) that feels deeply satisfying, nourishing, and fulfilling, highly sensitive people (HSPs) need to attend more to their emotional well-being than non-HSPs.

    Before I knew I was highly sensitive (which is a normal trait found in 20-30% of the population, where we process all stimuli more deeply than others)—or what it took to stay grounded and emotionally well as one—I was married to a good, kind man. Together, we took on a wild pace of life and lots of responsibilities in quick succession over the course of a couple years. We had kids, built a house (by ourselves!), and were both developing our careers.

    There was little to no time for taking care of myself. I was always on—even at night when I was taking care of my two young sons, who were poor sleepers.

    I was overwhelmed, irritable, and stressed out much of the time. I remember thinking something was wrong with me, like I was a “problem person” because I was grumpy and short-tempered so much and couldn’t access that sweet feeling of peace and calm I felt regularly as a younger person.

    I also had trouble feeling connected with my husband and tended to blame it on him a lot—which just drove a wedge between us. (I now know this was due more to my stress levels than anything he did or didn’t do.)

    The toll this took was the loss of our happiness together—and eventually our marriage.

    Later, when I realized I was a highly sensitive person, and how important it was to support my nervous system and learn to work with my big emotions in intentional ways, I realized not knowing or doing this was the downfall of my marriage. 

    Over the years, I’ve taken on big projects, built another house and a business, and had another baby, and I am very happily remarried. But this time I did all of it while truly caretaking and honoring my sensitive system. The difference has been huge.

    After talking with many other HSPs who also experienced shifts in their relationships after learning to support themselves better, I’ve concluded that we HSPs simply require more conscious attention to our sensitive mind-body-heart systems than non-HSPs do.

    If you are an HSP, you may not love hearing this fact. Most of us HSPs living in these busy modern times have trouble with this, including myself. At least I used to. Because it can feel a bit unfair—like, why do I have to put so much effort into feeling well when others don’t?

    I get it. It’s normal to expect yourself to be like non-HSPs because, well, that is the norm. And also, maybe you didn’t know that you are highly sensitive until recently—or just now!

    Also, the message we get left and right is that we all should be able to keep up with the frantic pace of modern life, to push through with few breaks without much more than a yoga class here and there and be FINE.

    But the truth I’ve found is, once we accept that our systems need more loving attention from ourselves—more spaciousness, more quiet and downtime, more emotion-tending—and get to work honoring all of this, magic begins to happen in our relationships.

    But before we are good at that, our love lives can feel hard. Because love can’t flow from stress and fear. Connection can’t come out of a defended, stressed state.

    Because confidence, security, and internal safety (essential for strong, fulfilling relationships) can’t come from overstimulation and a nervous system that’s regularly in a fight, flight, or freeze state.

    Because effective and connecting communication can’t come from the closed-off heart that we have as humans when we’re run down, overwhelmed, and on edge.

    Because we can’t respond effectively to our significant others when challenges arise if we’re coming from a reactive or overloaded nervous system.

    For love to thrive in our lives, as I now know from deep experience, we need to be able to access all of these things (love, connection, security, confidence, responsiveness, and communicating well).

    And this all comes from being in a centered place in ourselves: our heart and higher brain.

    Like my experience in my first marriage shows (and briefer moments here and there still remind me!), we can’t be there steadily as an HSP when we aren’t actually listening to and honoring the needs of our sensitive body, mind, and nervous systems, and guiding them back to “home.”

    So how can we be in that centered place more steadily?

    For me, I had to learn quite a few things and break some old ways of thinking and behaving (like not listening to my brain when it pushed me to just push through, learning to say no, setting boundaries with myself and others, and more),

    For today, I’d love to offer you four things you can get started with right away that were key for me.

    1. Accept you need to attend to your emotional well-being more than most people.

    Just like one person needs to eat more regularly than another to keep blood sugars level or needs more sleep than their friend to be well rested, you simply need to pay more attention to your mind-body-heart system than non-HSPs to be at your best.

    We are all different, and that’s that.

    It can also help to know the benefits you and your relationships will reap. For example, you’ll feel more attracted to your partner and more attractive to them; you’ll feel more secure and be less likely to take things personally; and you’ll be better able to access your intuition, advocate for what you want and need, say no, set healthy boundaries, and more.

    Although it may be inconvenient at the time or make for “achieving” slightly less each day, I now even consider myself lucky to need this extra attention from myself. Because those same things that restore and nourish my sensitive system tend to also feed my heart and soul—like long walks in nature, or a half hour yoga of nidra. And because I know I need them to be well, I weave them into my life regularly, and they truly make my life richer.

    Once I experienced how much of a difference it made in my life and relationships—and how good I felt doing it—it was much easier to give myself the extra attention to emotional regulation I need. It will likely be the same for you!

    2. Use irritability or reactiveness as a signal.

    In fact, when you find yourself on edge, rundown, reactive, or feeling a lot of negative emotion often, it’s a signal from the intelligent wisdom of your mind-body-heart system telling you:“Slow down, my love. Take care of me, my love. I need your attention. I need your caretaking! Please love me. Please listen to me. Please support me.”

    Listen to that wise part of you and get to caretaking your beautiful sensitive self, in one of the many ways you know how to. Or learn new effective ways. Which brings me to…

    3. Learn about your nervous system.

     You don’t have to understand a lot of the science of the nervous system to work with yours, but understanding how your nervous system states affect your life and how to support yourself to shift states is really powerful

    In the most basic sense, your fight-or-flight system and your freeze system should only be activated briefly and fairly rarely.

    You want to spend the majority of your time in the states of calm and connect (that peaceful, engaged state of being that allows you to access to your heart, wisdom, and ability to connect with others, and where oxytocin is produced); and you want to spend some time in rest/digest mode (the state that allows for digestion, as well as healing and regeneration of the physical body) so you can be physically and emotionally at your best.

    To build awareness of your own states, start noticing what state you are in at any given moment. Are you in an agitated, anxious, aggravated state (fight or flight)? Or in an empty, shut down, numb and disconnected state (freeze)? Or are you in calm and connect, which feels like being centered, home in your heart? Or are you in rest /digest, which often feels like a peaceful, cozy almost sleepy state?

    4. Find your favorite ways to support yourself back to or to spend more time in calm and connect. 

    For me, the beginning of real change happened when I started doing daily nervous system practices for twenty minutes or more. Luckily, there are so many to choose from that it’s not hard to find ones you enjoy. Long walks in nature, deep breathing practices, and, a favorite of mine, yoga nidra, are all great. Even dancing counts (movement can really help calm an agitated state or thaw a frozen state).

    Yet, one bigger chunk of regulation alone often isn’t enough to help us stay primarily in our calm and connected selves, so pepper into your day smaller nervous system practices—such as feeling the ground beneath your feet, noticing your breathing without changing it, or slowly scanning the room with a curious noticing of what’s around you.

    Here is one you can try right now that I love:

    • Place your hand on your heart area so that you feel your own warm touch.
    • Breathe softly into that hand and heart area, a bit deeper than normal.
    • As you do, remember one moment when you felt safe and loved by another human being. This could be a partner or child, a friend, therapist, teacher, or even a pet. Don’t think of the entire relationship, just one moment of it.
    • As you remember this moment, let yourself feel the feeling of that moment. Stay with it, allowing the feeling to wash through your body for twenty or thirty seconds.
    • Notice any shifts in your sense of relaxation and calm and how in your heart you now feel.

    The idea is to weave emotional regulation practices into your daily life on an ongoing basis. These practices are not just for when you feel off-kilter or triggered. They are for helping you go into those triggered fight, flight, or freeze spaces less often, and come out of them more easily. So make them part of your regular life, even and especially when you feel fine.

    If you are anything like me, it can be tempting to go on as you always have, the way non-sensitive people can just go on, pushing through without slowing down to learn and do the work of honoring and supporting your sensitive mind-body-heart system.

    But continuing to go on as always isn’t likely to get you the life and love that you want.

    For HSPs, tending to our nervous system states is the basis for all the other mental and emotional skills that make up relational agency—which is our ability to guide ourselves back to a space where we can navigate life well and relate to our significant other in ways that generate deep connection, love, and intimacy.

    It also allows the love-enhancing aspects of our trait of high sensitivity to come out naturally, paving the way for our best possible life and relationship.

    —

    So start caretaking your sensitive system as much as it’s asking for. Learn to listen to it. It wants all the best for you: love, peace, ease, intimacy, and adoration.

  • If You’re Always Having to Be the Bigger Person

    If You’re Always Having to Be the Bigger Person

  • Overcoming Codependency: Breaking the Cycle of Unhealthy Relationships

    Overcoming Codependency: Breaking the Cycle of Unhealthy Relationships

    “A codependent person is one who has let another person’s behavior affect him or her and who is obsessed with controlling that person’s behavior.” ~Melody Beattie

    From a young age, I felt insecure in my own skin. I was a highly sensitive child and, subsequently, struggled with low self-worth for most of my life.

    Although I had many friends and a good family, I consistently looked for approval outside of myself. I grew up believing that the opinions of others were the only accurate representations of my core worth.

    As a teenager, I witnessed the crumbling and eventual demise of my parents’ marriage. During these years, I felt a lot like an island.

    I was often plagued with a dark, mysterious unhappiness. The standard teenage growing pains conglomerated with the trauma of losing my familial identity. In a desperate attempt to counter these negative feelings, I sought the approval of others; when it was not provided, I felt like a failure.

    I was caught up in vicious cycle of seeking outside confirmation that I was good enough.

    At school, I adopted the role of boy-crazy-funny-girl. I wanted to be adored and nurtured and cherished.

    I kept a list of all the cute boys at my school and spent hours daydreaming about a blissful, fairy tale love.

    I consistently focused on seeking happiness outside of myself. This habitual practice, over time, led to an inability to be content unless something or someone was providing validation. Most of the time, I felt like I was not good enough.

    This falsely instilled belief led me into a decade-long struggle with codependency.

    The first codependent relationship I was involved in began when I was nineteen. He was ten years older than I was, and, unbeknownst to me at the time, a cocaine addict.

    Our routine was unhealthy and unproductive. We would spend our weekends drinking and gambling at a local pool hall. More often than not, I spent my entire weekly paycheck by the end of Saturday night.

    He belittled me, called me names, and consistently criticized my appearance and weight. He compared me to his previous girlfriends. I began to see myself as an incomplete person, one who was in need of major repairs and upgrades. I was so emotionally fragile that the wind could’ve knocked me over.

    In a frantic effort to self-preserve, I adopted several fear-based behaviors. I became obsessed with him. I was controlling and jealous. I needed to know everything about his past. I wanted desperately for him to accept me.

    Over the ten months we spent together, I neglected my body and mind. My weight dropped a staggering thirty pounds. I was completely disconnected from my family and friends. I developed severe anxiety and suffered crippling panic attacks. I knew something had to change, so I gathered the courage and left him behind.

    I thought that I was rid of this unhealthy and unsatisfying lifestyle, but the bad habits carried into my next two relationships.

    I spent four years with a person that I loved very much; however, his alcohol dependency brought all of my insecurities and controlling behavior back into play.

    We spent four years flip-flopping between wonderful loving moments and horrific physical fights that left us both numb and depressed.

    When this relationship ended, I sought comfort in yet another unavailable partner, one that could not provide me with the stability that I so badly needed.

    Such is the nature of the codependent person. We seek out what is familiar to us, but not necessarily what is good for us.

    After logging close to a decade-worth of codependent hours, I finally faced myself. I knew that if I didn’t make significant changes, I would be forever trapped in a life that was unconducive to my spiritual and emotional growth.

    In a scene eerily similar to Elizabeth Gilbert’s Eat, Pray, Love bathroom breakdown, I faced the music. I got myself a small apartment and started my recovery.

    The first few days spent alone were absolutely torturous. I cried and cried. I had trouble doing basic tasks, like walking my dog or getting groceries. I had completely turned inward, nurturing my turmoil like an old friend. Anxiety-ridden and lonely, I did the only thing I could think of: I asked for help.

    The first step I took was ordering Melody Beattie’s book Codependent No More. This is probably the most significant self-improvement book I have ever read. I felt a weight being lifted as I read, page by page.

    Finally, I was able to understand all of the behaviors, feelings, and emotions I had struggled with for so long. I was a textbook case, my highlighter affirmed as I completed the “codependency checklist.” Perhaps some of these questions will speak to you, as well.

    • Do you feel responsible for other people—their feelings, thoughts, actions, choices, wants, needs, well-being, and destiny?
    • Do you feel compelled to help people solve their problems or try to take care of their feelings?
    • Do you find it easier to feel and express anger about injustices done to others than about injustices done to you?
    • Do you feel safest and most comfortable when you are giving to others?
    • Do you feel insecure and guilty when someone gives to you?
    • Do you feel empty, bored, and worthless if you don’t have someone else to take care of, a problem to solve, or a crisis to deal with?
    • Are you often unable to stop talking, thinking, and worrying about other people and their problems?
    • Do you lose interest in your own life when you are in love?
    • Do you stay in relationships that don’t work and tolerate abuse in order to keep people loving you?
    • Do you leave bad relationships only to form new ones that don’t work, either?

    (You can read more about the habits and patterns of codependent people here.)

    After acknowleding my codependency, I connected with an online support group for family members of addicts/alcoholics. This gave me a platform to share my story, without judgment, and little by little, I healed my aching heart.

    The most significant things I learned on this journey are:

    1. Without change, nothing changes.

    This is such a simple yet profound truth. It’s reminiscent of Einstein’s definition of insanity: doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results. The cycle of codependency can only be overcome by establishing and nurturing a super-loving relationship with yourself. Otherwise, you will continually find yourself in unhealthy, codependent relationships.

    2. We can’t control others, and it is not our job to do so.

    Over the years, I was constantly trying to control and micromanage other people’s behavior, in an effort to escape my own negative feelings.

    I chose partners with alcohol and drug dependencies. Often, I chose angry and avoidant men. By focusing on what was wrong with them, I could ignore what was empty and unfulfilled in me.

    I thought, naively, that this would give me a feeling of stability. In fact, it did the opposite. Surrendering the need to control other people provides us the necessary space to connect with ourselves.

    3. Love and obsessions are not the same.

    I falsely believed for many years that love and obsession were one and the same. I gave so much of myself to my partners, naively thinking that this was the road to happiness.

    I’ve learned that healthy love requires both partners to have unique, individual identities outside of the romantic relationship. Time alone, time with friends, and time to work on personal projects allows you to really connect when you are together, without feeling suffocated. We build trust when we afford ourselves, and our partners, some breathing room.

    For many years I neglected my own needs. I now prioritize personal time to do individual activities: reading, writing, walking, reflecting. I started to heal once I learned to incorporate self-love rituals into my life. One of my favorite things to do is spend the evening in a warm bubble bath, light some candles and listen to Alan Watts lectures.

    4. Life is not an emergency.

    This is a biggie! I consistently lived in a high-stress vortex—terrified of people, abandonment, and life itself.

    I worried so much about all of the things that were outside of my control—often, other people. I realize now that life is meant to be enjoyed and savored. Good and bad things will happen, but with a centered and balanced heart, we can get over any obstacles.

    The key to balance, for me, is to live fully in every moment, accepting life for what it is. Even when I’m feeling down, I know that the Universe has my back and everything in life is unfolding as it should.

    If you don’t hold this belief, it might help to remember that you have your own back, and you can handle whatever is coming. When you trust in yourself, and focus on yourself instead of others, it’s much easier to enjoy life and stop living in fear.

    —

    I have assembled a group of super-hero coaches and teachers that have helped me significantly over the years in my quest for self-improvement. I have loving support and encouragement from so many sources. It’s my dream to be able to give some of that back to the world. I hope I have done that with this post.

  • How Following Our Instincts Now Can Protect Us from Pain Down the Line

    How Following Our Instincts Now Can Protect Us from Pain Down the Line

    “There is a voice inside of you that whispers all day long, I feel this is right for me, I know that this is wrong. No teacher, preacher, parent, friend or wise man can decide what’s right for you. Just listen to the voice that speaks inside.” ~Shel Silverstein

    Some time ago, a guy I knew suggested I go swimming with him and a friend of his. I accepted.

    I didn’t know him well. Sometimes he would say hello and be warm, while other times he would ignore me. Since he was a longtime friend of a girl I knew, I was looking forward to getting to know him better so we could become friends too.

    He and his friend dived several times from the ten-meter diving board. When it was my turn to jump, I was petrified.

    I was standing on the diving board with a firm will to jump, but the emptiness below me paralyzed me.

    My new friend climbed the stairs of the diving platform, came on the board, and kissed me on the mouth to encourage me. It was cute of him, but the situation stressed me even more. I knew him very little, and the fact that he blew hot and cold did not give me confidence.

    When I finally got off the diving board, without having jumped, I told him how much I appreciated that he came to encourage me, but I preferred that we stay friends.

    In the following months, whenever I bumped into him, he ignored me.

    About six months later, as I was walking down the street, he ran out of a restaurant to greet me and offer to ski with him and his friends, which I accepted. I was surprised at his change in attitude and relieved that he was no longer mad at me for sending him away at the pool.

    We spent a wonderful day of skiing, during which he was particularly friendly.

    In the evening, we met at the local pub, where he told me of his desire to go out with me. I replied, again, that I preferred that we stay friends.

    Later that evening, when I passed him on the pub stairs, he walked straight past without looking at me. It hurt me. I knew he was hurt, but it was unfair to ignore me again. I had spent a wonderful day with him and wished we could stay on good terms.

    Following this, I felt uneasy and ended up telling him that I had changed my mind about him because I wanted things to go back how they were earlier that day, when he was warm and charming. That’s how our relationship started, but I quickly realized something was wrong.

    I noticed that when he needed me or when we were planning to spend the night together, he was warm and generous with compliments. On the other hand, when I was useless to him, he was cold and distant. The sudden shift between the two extremes made me doubt his sincerity and feel manipulated.

    Moreover, he did things secretively, which created an atmosphere of mistrust.

    Also, he always created a busy schedule for himself, in which he assigned me time slots in advance.

    If I suggested that we see each other at a time other than what he had initially planned, he did not let go until I gave in.

    I felt like a pawn on his chessboard, and I was tiring of the lows but growing addicted to the highs.

    When I would bring up issues in our relationship, he was not open to questioning himself. Each time, he managed to convince me that I was the cause of the problem. The argument ended with me crying and begging him to forgive me.

    As a result, after each argument, I felt that the problem was still unsolved, and my frustration escalated.

    He ended up leaving me, which was legitimate since we were constantly arguing.

    The breakups I had experienced with other ex-boyfriends had left me either relieved or heartbroken, or both. This breakup left me with an identity crisis.

    During our relationship, when my ex-partner found a flaw in my personality, he could not help but amplify it and remind me of it all the time.

    That is when I started to doubt myself. Who was right, him or me? Maybe he was right, and I was this person he was describing.

    It took me a while to realize that this relationship was toxic. Looking back, I wondered how I could have come to this.

    How could I have been left by a man I had never wanted to be with and for whom I had never had romantic feelings?

    Also, why had I tried so hard to make this relationship work when I was miserable throughout its course?

    In other relationships, I’ve always had feelings for my partners. Those magical feelings that make you euphoric at the beginning, and every time you see someone who looks a little like your loved one, you think it’s him.

    In this case, the unease after being ignored made me change my mind.

    In his defense, my ex-partner never forced me to be in a relationship with him, and as an adult, I am responsible for my choices.

    Yet, his strong-willed character always ended up defeating my decisions.

    This experience taught me why you should listen to your inner voice and be in tune with yourself. The voice inside tells you what feels right and wrong for you.

    Don’t be afraid to follow your intuition, even when people insist you go against it. Does that mean that you should think only of yourself? No, obviously. However, if what is being asked of you goes against your intuition, and even if you do not understand why, it is better not to do it.

    If I had listened to my intuition and refused to go out with this guy, I would have hurt him briefly but saved him from a relationship that did not suit him. Moreover, I would have spared myself unnecessary suffering.

    When you make decisions with your heart, you have no or fewer regrets if things go wrong.

    It can take time to learn to listen to your inner voice and follow your instincts without feeling guilty—especially if you learned growing up to put other people before yourself, as I did.

    If you feel that someone or something isn’t right for you but worry about upsetting someone else, remind yourself that a little short-term discomfort can often save you a lot of pain down the line.

  • You Deserve Someone Who Can’t Wait to Talk to You

    You Deserve Someone Who Can’t Wait to Talk to You

  • How Boundaries Help You Stay True to Yourself (And Two Practices to Try Today)

    How Boundaries Help You Stay True to Yourself (And Two Practices to Try Today)

    “The more you value yourself, the healthier your boundaries are.” ~Lorraine Nilon

    I want to talk about the direct correlation between boundaries and self-love. Because when we truly love ourselves and have a healthy self-worth and self-concept, setting boundaries becomes a natural extension of that.

    Without boundaries, we either become walled off and protect ourselves from others, which creates a sense of deep isolation and loneliness, or we become enmeshed with others. We often find ourselves living on their side of the street, working overtime to manage, fix, caretake, or be needed by them, all while neglecting ourselves and our personal well-being and needs.

    As children, we were often rewarded for being relational, compliant, quiet, agreeable, easy, and invisible. The underlying message was that we didn’t deserve to have ownership of ourselves.

    As long as we did what the big people said, we were in their good graces, but if we crossed that line, then we were in trouble. Because that hurt and brought up so much shame for us, the alternative was to disconnect from our authentic selves. We became people who played a part merely to gain acceptance and approval, but at the detriment of our own needs and desires.

    I personally have been on both sides of the coin. I was boundary-less for much of my life, giving and giving to others, unable to stand up for myself and my own personal needs.  

    A great example of this was when my husband and I went on vacation many years ago. We had a great time, but upon returning home I experienced an almost debilitating sadness and anxiety.

    I remember being uncomfortable in my own body to the point of wanting to crawl right out of my skin. As I sat with the uncomfortable sadness, I realized that it was deep grief.

    While I was on vacation, I felt free. I felt an ease about what I wanted to do each day and how I wanted to spend my time. In my regular ‘not on vacation’ life, I felt stifled and obligated to everyone.

    I realized I was living someone else’s life. I had built a life that others looked at and thought, “Wow, she’s got it all,” but it wasn’t the life that felt true to me. The grief I met that day came from meeting the realization of how I lived for everyone but me.

    I had checked all the ‘right’ boxes of what my parents wanted and what society expected of a good girl, but I was miserable.

    After this experience, it still took me a while to get a handle on my overpleasing and appeasing. Eventually, after having fried adrenal glands twice from my constant over-giving, over-serving, and endless worry of what others thought of me, I flipped the pendulum to the other extreme and began to build a wall. I was tired of everyone taking advantage of me and asking me for my energy.

    “No” became my personal mantra—until I woke up one day realizing how incredibly isolated and alone I felt. I had protected myself to the point of shutting everyone out.

    We are hardwired for connection, for community, for a group of people in which we feel we belong. Our nervous systems operate beautifully when we feel safe with others and are able to experience a dance of co-regulation.

    We want to move toward healthy boundaries, which are flexible, fluid, and give us the chance to shift and change. Healthy boundaries aren’t completely loose and open, but they aren’t to the other extreme of being closed off and guarded. 

    Boundaries and attachment style go hand in hand. Our earliest attachment was with our mothers, or primary caregivers.

    If we had a mother who met us in our time of need with compassion, a friendly face, and consistency, we built what is called a secure attachment.

    If we didn’t have this experience and our mother was unfriendly, shut down, cold, inconsistent, and not able to attune to our feelings and emotions as children, we created something called an insecure attachment. As adults with this deep well of insecurity, there is a good chance we are looking to have another adult meet our needs or fill this hole in our soul.

    My own mother controlled the emotional climate in the home. Just a tightening of her jaw and a furrow of her brows, and I was instantly walking on eggshells. Being raised in such an emotionally shut down and rigid home, I carried the belief with me that I was responsible for everyone else’s feelings, and if someone else was upset, I believed it was my fault.

    I wasted hours, days, and weeks worrying if someone was upset with me or disliked me. I had a huge gaping hole in my soul, and I strived to fill it by using other people’s validation and acceptance.

    It took me decades to learn how to be kind to myself and give my inner child what she needed, which was validation, acceptance, and a ‘kindful’ witness.  (I once heard the term kindful from one of my mentors, and it really stuck—it simply refers to being kind to myself.)

    Developing healthy boundaries requires us to learn that no other person can provide the inner safety and security that we need. Our healing work requires that we learn to reparent ourselves and provide ourselves the internal safety that we need and long for.

    This work isn’t necessarily easy; it takes time to learn how to nurture ourselves and build a rock-solid sense of authenticity and integrity. However, the irony is that when we learn to meet our own needs and recognize that we can create our own internal safety, we build the exact foundation required for better intimate relationships and friendships.

    The best thing we can do is learn to stay with ourselves and be true to who we really are. 

    Your needs, your preferences, your wishes, and your desires are what make you YOU! I know you’ve maybe heard that a million times, but maybe a million and one is what it takes. Really let that sink in. If any relationship requires that you abandon yourself to keep the peace, it’s not a healthy relationship.

    As we begin to build a healthier version of ourselves and recognize our value, we begin to not be so tolerable of those who mistreated us or diminished our worth. Being in our energy is a privilege, not a right. (You might want to repeat that to yourself on the daily.)

    When we believe this, over time, we draw in healthier individuals who respect us because they too respect themselves. As we shed the false self that we once created to gain approval and stay safe, we give ourselves the opportunity to explore what our hearts actually need and desire.

    It’s possible that the people in your life who were always used to you being easy, going with the flow, and not ruffling any feathers will find your newfound boundaries a bit of an inconvenience. I just experienced this situation recently. A friend begged for the old version of me that just wasn’t available to her whims and needs any longer. She loved me when I could be in a one-way friendship for her, but I couldn’t do it anymore.

    My new rule is two-sided relationships are the only relationships for me.

    What I love most about boundary work is that it is so incredibly honest. Because boundaries are grounded in our values and our needs, we are showing people the real and authentic us. 

    We are saying, “This is what I need; this is what I desire—are you able to meet me in this?” Sometimes they can and sometimes they can’t, but the bottom line is that boundaries give us the opportunity to create relationships based on pure honesty and truth.

    Having healthy boundaries requires you to be healthy, whole, and anchored to your truth. It requires you to step up and express this truth to create relationships and a life that you love.

    There are two exercises I want to leave you with to begin working on your boundaries. While these exercises seem simple, they are incredibly potent. One of my favorite current sayings is a little + often = a lot.

    When these practices are worked over and over, they become embodied. We no longer have to think about them so much, as they start to become second nature.

    1. No more auto-yesing.

    From now on, when anyone asks you anything, your immediate response is that you need to give yourself a minimum of twenty-four hours before you respond.

    This exercise is important because it gives you an opportunity to pause and check in with your body.

    If we are accustomed to having codependency, good girl/boy, or people-pleasing patterns, our immediate response is always YES, 150% of the time. This exercise stops that pattern and gives you the pause you need to ascertain what feels expansive and good to you.

    2. Spend some time journaling on the following questions:

    • In what ways/areas/relationships am I giving my power away?
    • What am I tolerating that doesn’t feel good to me any longer?
    • In what ways was I rewarded for not having boundaries as a child?
    • In which current situations/relationships do I have an opportunity to start building my boundary muscle?

    These two exercises are powerhouse tools to help you discover and implement new choices and responses.

    And lastly, if you feel like you are bumping up against a wall when it comes to your boundaries, the only way out is through. Yes, it feels clunky. No, you won’t always get your newfound boundaries ‘right’ (hello, good child), but with practice and support, you’ll make it to the other side.

    Join me where life is so free and expansive, you can’t even imagine.

  • Are You Outgrowing Your Family? 6 Effective Ways to Manage This

    Are You Outgrowing Your Family? 6 Effective Ways to Manage This

    “You can’t force anyone to value, respect, understand, or support you, but you can choose to spend time around people who do.” ~Lori Deschene

    I always felt somewhat different from my family growing up.

    I didn’t have a terrible childhood—I was certainly loved, cared for, and looked after—but despite having two siblings, a mother, and a stepfather (who raised me), I seldom felt a sense of belonging and often times I felt very lonely.

    Growing up I could never quite put my finger on what it was that was different, but I just knew that I was. I knew that I didn’t see the world how my family saw it. I analyzed everything on a much deeper level. I viewed things differently, and a lot of my interests were different than my family.

    Late last year, I had just gotten back from a long weekend on a family trip and I was relieved to be home. I found the weekend to be exhausting and couldn’t wait for it to be over. I checked in with a friend and informed him about my weekend.

    “It sounds like you’ve outgrown your family.”

    I paused while I reflected on this statement. Just a couple of weeks prior I had written an article about outgrowing friendships. It never once crossed my mind that we could outgrow our own family.

    I mean, we can’t possibly outgrow our family, right? At best, they are our protectors and providers. They love us unconditionally, flaws and all, and they are our biggest supporters. We are tied and bonded by blood and DNA.

    I sat and reflected on this for a few days. If we can outgrow our friends and partners, then we can, too, outgrow our family.

    I had worked a lot on myself over the past ten years. I was committed to self-development, and although I was in no way perfect, I actively worked to be the best version of myself and tried to take something away from every difficult situation I was faced with.

    This inner work had enabled me to grow mentally, emotionally, and spiritually, while I believed my family were stuck in their ways, ignorant to the fact that as the world around us changes, so should our mindsets.

    As I did the inner work, I noticed I disagreed with more things that my family were saying and doing. Decisions they made and behaviors they displayed didn’t sit right with me a lot of the time. I was changing, leading me to drift further away from my family. The connection we once had was tearing at the seams, and I desperately wanted them to ‘catch up.’

    The trouble is, outgrowing our families can be complex. For example, when you outgrow your friends, you usually go your separate ways, open and ready to let people into your life who align with who you are at that time. But when this is family, it isn’t always that easy or the right thing to do.

    Below are some things you can implement in order to maintain healthy relationships with your loved ones when you have outgrown your family.

    1. Stop trying to change people who do not want to be changed.

    Whenever I found the courage to disagree with my family, I would spend a significant amount of time trying to reason with them and make them see a different point of view—that things are not always black and white, but there are sometimes grey areas too.

    Admittedly, I would often try to encourage personal growth and healing in the hope that they would view the world the way I did, and in the hope that we could connect on the same level we once did. This only created tension, frustration, and conflict.

    When I reflected on this, I realized that I had my own views on how I felt my family should behave or act, but not everyone had to think the same way I did. I also realized that I shouldn’t preach and try to push my ways of living on others, and that I didn’t always know best, especially since everyone is on their own journey and path to self-discovery.

    Everybody is responsible for themselves; you cannot change anyone if they do not wish to be changed. Perhaps, like mine, your family does not feel that they need to change. If this is the case, then you are fighting a losing battle. You cannot change anyone, and they cannot change you.

    2. Do not be afraid to let them know when you do not agree with them.

    There were times when I did not agree with my family’s decisions, opinions, or choices, and to keep the peace or to please them I would agree with them, at the detriment of being true to myself.

    This always led to me having a deep sense of discomfort when I had to pretend to be on their side of an issue. It always felt like my reality and spirituality were at war with one another, and I was being a traitor to myself.

    As I looked back, I realized that this had nothing to do with them and everything to do with me. I didn’t want to disappoint my family by having opposing views and feared how they would react if I voiced my true opinions.

    I also feared that I would be rejected, and moreover, I feared that any disagreements would lead to conflict.

    Understand that you are your own person. You may share blood and DNA, but you are on your own journey, and you may have morals and values that do not align with your family’s, and this is okay.

    While I was fearful of hurting my relationship with my family members by being honest, I also learned that not being honest with them could do just as much damage if they found out how I truly felt.

    You are entitled to your own opinions and views, and if your family or friends condemn you for not agreeing with them, then that is their problem and not yours. They should try to understand that our differences make us diverse and unique.

    Now, I can confidently and respectfully disagree with my family when I need to, without fear of consequences.

    3. Have compassion.

    While I have spent a significant amount of time healing from old wounds and past trauma in order to grow, spiritually, emotionally and mentally, not everyone in my family has.

    Everyone has their own struggles and battles, and we should not judge or condemn them but be compassionate toward them and their struggles.

    4. Establish new boundaries.

    Establishing boundaries is a solid foundation for any healthy relationship. When we have boundaries in place, we have a clear understanding of what is expected of one another.

    Boundaries have many benefits for our relationships; they are more likely to be respectful, with less conflict and more peace.

    Perhaps there are topics that you feel uncomfortable talking about with your family, or behavior that you simply won’t tolerate. Identify your limits and set those boundaries in place so everyone is clear on expectations.

    5. Understand “outgrowing” doesn’t mean “better.”

    The word “outgrown” gets a bad rap, which is why I have avoided using it with my own family for fear it will make them feel less-than. However, I am not better than my family, nor are they better than me.

    Outgrowing family does not mean that your life is now better than theirs, and the way you view the world holds more value than the way they view theirs.

    Outgrowing your family simply means that your values, morals, opinions, and views have changed and may be in conflict with one another’s. It means you are no longer in alignment with those you once were.

    Something changed, and that something is you (or them), and that’s okay. Change is natural and fundamental to progress in life. When you change, it can change the dynamics in relationships, sometimes for the better and sadly, sometimes for the worse.

    6. Learn conflict resolution.

    Nobody’s family is perfect; there will always be conflict. But this can be even more common if you feel you have outgrown your family because there may be more disagreements and behavior you can no longer tolerate.

    The ability to deal with conflict might just be the saving grace for serious fallouts and family dysfunction. This can include:

    • Addressing the issues
    • Finding a resolution to the problem
    • Agreeing to disagree without animosity
    • Using good communication skills; for example, actively listening
    • Not ignoring the conflict

    7. Distance yourself if needed.

    Being family does not have to mean that you are obliged to put up with anything you do not feel comfortable with, toxic behavior, or abuse, so if you need to distance yourself or cut off family members to protect your peace and mental health, you are well within your rights to do that.

  • Why I Don’t Regret That I Didn’t Walk Away from My Relationship Sooner

    Why I Don’t Regret That I Didn’t Walk Away from My Relationship Sooner

    “The butterfly does not look back at the caterpillar in shame, just as you should not look back at your past in shame. Your past was part of your own transformation.” ~Anthony Gucciardi 

    Before I finally grew the courage to walk away from my boyfriend, I contemplated walking away many times.

    There was the time that he had ghosted me for a week without communicating that he needed space. Then after promising me a timeline for telling his mom about me and our relationship, when the time came to do it, he made up another excuse. And there were many moments when he canceled our plans at the last minute.

    Every time I felt disappointed or disrespected, I would feel my body start to tremble from the inside and I felt my sense of self start to break away as I tried all of the things I thought would repair the relationship. I tried to be patient and understanding, and I communicated my needs while trying to see where he was coming from. But nothing changed.

    Sometimes I would feel a glimmer of hope as my partner took accountability and would try to be better. I gave him multiple chances to make things right, and yet he still went back to old patterns. I wasn’t expecting an overnight change, but I wanted more investment. Deep down, he just wasn’t on the same page.

    So why couldn’t I walk away from this person who was no longer treating me the way I deserved to be treated? Why did I still keep putting up with less and accepting the bare minimum?

    I didn’t know how to let go of someone I loved. I was scared of letting go of what I saw as the potential of this person and the relationship. And I was scared of letting myself down. 

    Relationships are complex, and people on the outside looking in make it seem easy for you to just leave at the first sign of turmoil or dissatisfaction. It’s normal to feel uncomfortable and unhappy in a relationship, yet still struggle to walk away.

    The truth is, I needed to go through these experiences to finally see that this relationship was no longer serving my highest good. And that’s not to say that I deserved any of it. But it would not have been as easy to walk away with the clarity, certainty, and purpose that I had at the moment that I had it.

    When the pain of staying was greater than the fear of leaving, I knew it was the right time to walk away. 

    If I had walked away sooner, I might have held onto hope of getting back together, fearing that I didn’t do enough or give it enough of a chance. I would likely be floundering with my internal need for closure, rather than knowing I received all the closure I needed by the time I walked away.

    Even though there were many times that my soul knew deep down that I would eventually have to walk away, my heart wasn’t there yet. And when it finally was, the courage grew inside of me like an ocean wave coming closer to shore.

    If you’re struggling to walk away from a person or feeling regret about not walking away sooner, here’s what helped me on my journey of making peace with it:

    1. Honor your lessons.

    Love is not enough. This was one of the hardest pills to swallow, but it was necessary.

    A couple days before we broke up, my ex and I had another hard conversation about our relationship. And at some point, I remember saying, “But we love each other,” attempting a plea to hold us together through some challenges.

    Healthy relationships require more than just the feeling of love. There needs to be commitment, action, integrity, communication, and trust. Feeling love for another person is nice, but you can feel love for a person and not be in a relationship with them. A relationship requires much more.

    At first, I felt sad and defeated when I reflected and realized that these values were not in alignment in our relationship. But now I honor this lesson and know that it will serve me well in my next relationship. I won’t waver on the importance of being aligned on values more than just a feeling of love.

    When you have core takeaways from a relationship that didn’t work out, it helps to create a deeper meaning from it. And it helps you focus your energy on yourself, rather than your ex-partner.

    2. Give yourself grace.

    We can be so hard on ourselves. And the times that you need grace the most are often when you’re least likely to give grace to yourself.

    In my relationship with my ex, I was quicker to give him grace than myself.

    After I walked away, this hit me like a truck. That’s when I started to give myself the grace and love that I pushed down in favor of trying to hold the relationship together. Did I do everything right? No, but that’s the point of grace.

    I poured so much love back into me and my life after the breakup. I gave myself grace to recognize that this relationship was not the right fit, and that it took me some time to really see that. Grace allowed me to forgive both myself and my ex, because it always creates a ripple effect.

    3. Letting go is a process, not a destination.

    Even though I walked away with clarity and purpose, I didn’t feel an immediate sense of relief right after we broke up. I knew it was the right decision, but my body went into a grieving process.

    When someone passes away, we go through stages of grief. The same thing happens after a breakup.

    As I wavered back and forth between anger and acceptance, it helped when I returned back to the core reasoning behind why I walked away when I did, and why that was necessary for my happiness and well-being. Each deliberate choice to return back to my core knowing, while giving myself grace, was a part of the process of letting go and healing my heart.

    Making peace with this relationship and breakup meant treating my healing as a process and not a final destination. I had to acknowledge every step along the way to rebuild and come back from it stronger than before.

    —-

    We don’t always make the best choices for our highest selves in every moment, but this is an impossible expectation. We are all human beings trying our best to learn from experiences and grow. And I don’t believe there should be any regret in that.

  • Temporary People Who Taught You Permanent Lessons

    Temporary People Who Taught You Permanent Lessons

  • Why Relationships Matter Most: We’re All Just Walking Each Other Home

    Why Relationships Matter Most: We’re All Just Walking Each Other Home

    “We’re all just walking each other home.” ~Ram Dass

    Living in the hyper-individualist society that we do, it’s easy to forget our obligation to those around us. Often in the West, we are taught to prioritize ourselves in the unhealthiest ways, to ‘grind’ as hard as we can to achieve wealth and status.

    We are taught, between the lines, that our first responsibility is to create a ‘perfected‘ version of ourselves to such an extreme that it is alright to forsake our relationships with others to accomplish it.

    From day one, it is embedded in us that it is our individual selves against the world. Like many others, I’d like to challenge this notion. Because what is the purpose of wealth and status if not to share it with the ones you love and who love you the most?

    What is the meaning of life itself if not companionship, community, and love?

    I want to disclaim, of course, that this is by no means attacking the notion of having personal external goals. Career success, physique aspirations, and other tangible objectives can absolutely be noble in pursuit and attainment.

    What I would like to say is that none of those external goals will fulfill you the way that genuine human connection can—and that those goals should not be completed by abandoning your healthy relationships and support systems. And if you are thinking, “who actually does that?” this introduction is not for you.

    To put it simply, life is a series of circumstances, situations, and experiences that we get reluctantly swept into (and sometimes, foolishly, sweep ourselves into). It’s just one adventure after the next, for better or worse. That sounds gloomy, but it is what makes life so beautiful—the human ability to feel a vast range of emotions within an hour and find charm in the worst circumstances.

    A little over a year ago, my aunt passed. Through a blur of tears, I remember thinking about how beautiful the flowers people had sent were and how vibrantly green the grass of the cemetery was. And amidst all the despair, I remember looking around and seeing my friends.

    When I think back to all the times in my life when it felt like the roof would cave in, that I had nothing left, that I didn’t know if I would be strong enough to move forward and continue on, I remember what exactly it was that pushed me forward. It was always my friends, my people. Those who almost daily not only told me that they would be there for me but showed up when I needed them the most.

    Would I have survived my hardships alone? Yes. Would I prefer to do it alone? Never.

    I am infinitely grateful for the community I have created for myself—the network of friends that have become family and mentors that help guide me when things seem too chaotic to untangle.

    Through the gentle counsel of my loved ones, I have come to realize that there is no nobility in solitary living. There is no wisdom or bravery in taking on hardship or challenges alone when I don’t need to. Every time I forsook my loved ones to be (my distorted idea of) independent, it seemed almost like I was just adding gasoline to already growing flames. There was no more profound message beneath suffering in silence, only suffering.

    And I think most of us can agree that attempting to handle problems alone feels infinitely more difficult to manage than with support. It’s part of why people seek romantic partnerships, to have someone always there to walk through the flames alongside. It’s why people invest so strongly in their loved ones in general. It is to feel heard and be seen, to hear and to see.

    Part of the purpose of life, I have come to learn, is within the attempt to know someone else, to recognize yourself in another person deeply. Connection is everything we have in this world. It’s the mirror that holds itself up to us in the face of conflict with another person. It makes us think twice before buying from a brand that uses slave labor, and it’s what makes us recoil at the thought of abused animals or children.

    Connection with all living beings is the deeper understanding that we are all somehow joined by our humanity. And in that, understanding that one of our primary purposes is to know and be known. To know my friends and their joys and fears and draw parallels to how they reflect my own. To walk alongside them through the difficult times and the blissful times. I recognize now that it is in the attempt to know others that I now know myself.

    We are all just walking each other home. Life, at its core, is that simple.

    I am walking, hand in hand, side by side, sometimes a little bit ahead or a little bit behind, with the people around me. Some of those people may walk too quickly for me to keep up, and some may move too slowly. That is when I thank them for walking me as far as they could and continue on without them, as they will continue on without me.

    If the journey of life is a path we walk, then the purpose of our travel buddies is to help us navigate the storms on the road and to make the journey as funny, exciting, and comfortable as possible. If life is a journey, then the whole point of friendship, companionship, and mentorship is to just be with each other.

    If I am walking you home, is my purpose not to try my best to protect, guide, and love you throughout that journey? We are all walking each other and ourselves home. And the least we can do is do our best to make that journey as beautiful, warm, and light as possible.

    So many of us are falling into a spiritual trap of sorts and being wholly sucked into the hyper-consumerist and individualist mentality of the West. Some of us are actively fighting the true nature of our being, which yearns for deep and genuine connection above all else.

    As you age and the world around you changes, your values begin to change. When you’re nearing your final days, when all you want is your family and friends surrounding you, will you have planted those seeds? Will you have spent time cultivating and nourishing your relationships with those around you? Will you have walked your loved ones down their path and done your best to create joy in your (and others’) journey?

    The message I am trying desperately to convey here is that we need one another. We need love, and we need companionship. We need forgiveness, and we need grace. We need to be open to giving our hearts away and open to the risk of being hurt. And in that same breath, we need to do everything possible in our power to avoid hurting those around us. We need to use the path to grasp the importance of being tender with each other.

    The journey of life is not easy. Take a moment and reflect on all those who have walked you in the past and all those who continue to walk you home.

    Think about the connections you have made, the empathy and love you have nourished in the lives of those you care about.

    And remember that at the end of the day, despite all of the problems and chaos around us, we are all just walking each other home, and we are all just trying to be better companions, one day at a time.

    Dedicated to my travel companions, you know who you are.

  • Abandonment Wounds: How to Heal Them and Feel More at Ease in Relationships

    Abandonment Wounds: How to Heal Them and Feel More at Ease in Relationships

    “I always wondered why it was so easy for people to leave. What I should have questioned was why I wanted so badly for them to stay.” ~Samantha King

    Do you feel afraid to speak your truth or ask for what you want?

    Do you tend to neglect your needs and people-please?

    Do you have a hard time being alone?

    Have you ever felt panic and/or anxiety when someone significant to you left your life or you felt like they were going to?

    If so, please don’t blame yourself for being this way. Most likely it’s coming from an abandonment wound—some type of trauma that happened when you were a child.

    Even though relationships can be painful and challenging at times, your difficult feelings likely stem from something deeper; it’s like a part of you got “frozen in time” when you were first wounded and still feels and acts the same way.

    When we have abandonment wounds, we may have consistent challenges in relationships, especially significant ones. We may be afraid of conflict, rejection, or being unwanted; because of this, we people-please and self-abandon as a survival strategy.

    When we’re in a situation that activates an abandonment wound, we’re not able to think clearly; our fearful and painful emotions flood our system and filter our perceptions, and our old narratives start playing and dictate how we act. We may feel panic, or we may kick, cry, or scream or hold in our feelings like we needed to do when we were children.

    When our abandonment wound gets triggered, we automatically fall into a regression, back to the original hurt/wound and ways of reacting, thinking, and feeling. We also default to the meanings we created at the time, when we formed a belief that we weren’t safe if love was taken away.

    Abandonment wounds from childhood can stem from physical or emotional abandonment, being ignored or given the silent treatment, having emotionally unavailable parents, or being screamed at or punished for no reason.

    When we have abandonment wounds, we may feel that we need to earn love and approval; we may not feel good enough; and we may have our walls up and be unable to receive love because we don’t trust it, which keeps us from being intimate.

    We may try to numb our hurt and pain with drugs, alcohol, overeating, or workaholism. We may also hide certain aspects of ourselves that weren’t acceptable when we were young, which creates inner conflict.

    So how do our abandonment wounds get started? Let me paint a picture from my personal experience.

    When I was in third grade a lady came into our classroom to check our hair for lice. When she entered, my heart raced, and I went into a panic because I was afraid that if I had it and I got sent home, I would be screamed at and punished.

    Where did this fear come from? My father would get mad at me if I cried, got angry, got hurt and needed to go to the doctor, or if I accidentally broke anything in the house. Did I do it purposely? No, but I was punished, screamed at, and sent to my room many times, which made me feel abandoned, hurt, and unloved.

    When I was ten years old, my parents sent me away to summer camp. I kicked and screamed and told them I didn’t want to go. I was terrified of being away from them.

    When I got there, I cried all night and got into fights with the other girls. My third day there, I woke up early and ran away. My counselor found me and tried to hold me, but I kicked, hit her, and tried to get away from her.

    I was sent to the director’s office, and he got mad at me. He picked me up, took me out of his office, and put me in front of a flagpole, where I had to stay for six hours until my parents came to get me. When they got there, they put me in the car, screamed at me, and punished me for the rest of the week.

    When I was fifteen, I was diagnosed with anorexia, depression, and anxiety and put in my first treatment center.

    When my parents dropped me off, I was in a panic. I was so afraid, and I cried for days. Then, my worst nightmare came true—my doctor told me he was putting me on separation from my parents. I wasn’t allowed to talk to them or see them for a month. All I could think about was how I could get out of there and get home to be with them.

    I didn’t understand what was happening. I just wanted my parents to love me, to want to be with me, to treat me like I mattered, but instead I was sent away and locked up.

    I started to believe there was something wrong with me, that I was a worthless human being, and I felt a lot of shame. These experiences and many others created a negative self-image and fears of being abandoned.

    For over twenty-three years I was in and out of hospitals and treatment centers. I was acting in self-destructive ways and living in a hypervigilant, anxious state. I was constantly focused on what other people thought about me. I replayed conversations in my mind and noticed when someone’s emotional state changed, which made me afraid.

    It was a very exhausting way to be. I was depressed, lonely, confused, and suicidal.

    There are many experiences that trigger our abandonment wounds, but the one that I’ve found to be the most activating is a breakup.

    When we’re in a relationship with someone, we invest part of ourselves in them. When they leave, we feel like that part of ourselves is gone/abandoned. So the real pain is a part of us that’s “missing.” We may believe they’re the source of our love, and when they’re gone, we feel that we lost it.

    So the real abandonment wound stems from a disconnection from the love within, which most likely happened when we abandoned ourselves as children attempting to get love and attention from our parents and/or when our parents abandoned us.

    When I went through a breakup with someone I was really in love with, it was intense. I went into a panic. I was emotionally attached, and I did everything I could to try to get her back. When she left, I was devastated. I cried for weeks. There were days when I didn’t even get out of bed.

    Instead of trying to change how I was feeling, I allowed myself to feel it. I recognized that the feelings were intense not because of the situation only, but because it activated my deeper wounding from childhood. Even though I’ve done years of healing, there were more layers and more parts of me to be seen, heard, cared for, and loved.

    The “triggering event” of the breakup wasn’t easy, but it was necessary for me to experience a deeper healing and a deeper and more loving connection with myself.

    When we’re caught in a trauma response, like I was, there is no logic. We’re flooded with intense emotions. Sure, we can do deep breathing, and that may help us feel better and relax our nervous system in the moment. But we need to address the original source of our thoughts, feelings, and beliefs in order to experience a sense of ease internally and a new way of seeing and being.

    Healing our abandonment wound is noticing how the past may still be playing in our thoughts, feelings, and behaviors. It’s noticing the narratives and patterns that make us want to protect, defend, or run away. It’s helping our inner child feel acknowledged, seen, heard, safe, and loved.

    Healing the abandonment wound is not a quick fix; it does take self-awareness and lots of compassion and love. It’s a process of finding and embracing our authenticity, experiencing a sense of ease, and coming home.

    Healing doesn’t mean we’ll never be triggered. In fact, our triggers help us see what inside is asking for our love and attention. When we’re triggered, we need to take the focus off the other person or situation and notice what’s going on internally. This helps us understand the beliefs that are creating our feelings.

    Beliefs like: I don’t matter, I’m unlovable, I’m afraid, I don’t feel important. These underlying beliefs get masked when we focus on our anger toward the person or what’s happening. By bringing to the light how we’re truly feeling, we can then start working with these parts and help them feel loved and safe.

    Those of us with abandonment wounds often become people-pleasers, and some people may say people-pleasing is manipulation. Can we have a little more compassion? People-pleasing is a survival mechanism; it’s something we felt we needed to do as children in order to be loved and safe, and it’s not such an easy pattern to break.

    Our system gets “trained,” and when we try to do something new, like honoring our needs or speaking our truth, that fearful part inside gets afraid and puts on the brakes.

    Healing is a process of kindness and compassion. Our parts that have been hurt and traumatized, they’re fragile; they need to be cared for, loved, and nurtured.

    Healing is also about allowing ourselves to have fun, create from our authentic expression, follow what feels right to us, honor our heartfelt desires and needs, and find and do what makes us happy.

    There are many paths to healing. Find what works for you. For me, talk therapy and cognitive work never helped because the energy of anxiety and abandonment was held in my body.

    I was only able to heal my deepest wound when I began working with my inner child and helping the parts of myself that were in conflict for survival reasons make peace with each other. As a result, I became more kind, compassionate, and loving and started to feel at peace internally.

    Healing takes time, and you are so worth it, but please know that you are beautiful, valuable, and lovable as you are, even with your wounds and scars.

  • Your Relationships Improve Drastically When…

    Your Relationships Improve Drastically When…

  • Why I No Longer Chase Emotionally Unavailable People, Hoping They’ll Change

    Why I No Longer Chase Emotionally Unavailable People, Hoping They’ll Change

    “Never chase love, affection, or attention. If it isn’t given freely by another person, it isn’t worth having.” ~Unknown

    We met at a bar with Skee-Ball and slushy margaritas for our first date.

    She was gorgeous. I noticed that as soon as I walked in. I still wasn’t sure whether we’d have anything to talk about though. The messages we’d exchanged had been minimal.

    It turned out we did.

    Conversation flowed from one topic to the next—meandering from her passion for biology in college to how I tried to master mountain boarding at summer camp as a kid to how both of us were passionate about writing/putting words to the page.

    I found her articulate, funny, sociable, and down-to-earth. I liked her intellect. Her wit. Her seeming earnestness and appetite for unconventional topics like the environmental benefit of eating insects and sexism in the taxidermy industry.

    She came over to my place after; I cooked dinner for us. Talk got deeper. She shared the effect her dad’s depression had on her when she was a kid; how she’d personalize his quiet moods. I shared some of the instability I’d experienced as a kid.

    The evening ended in a hook-up. Nothing like a good trauma spill for an aphrodisiac.

    A couple weeks later we had another date. I felt similarly elated afterwards. But doubts began to surface before our third; she was acting wishy-washy and noncommittal.

    I talked them away, though, because seeing her filled me with buzzy joy. Our interactions powered me through the week with a buoyancy unlike any that my morning coffee had ever provided.

    So we kept going on dates.

    She’d bring flowers to them. Lift me into the air when we kissed, which I loved. Tell me I was a “really good thing in her life.”

    The last day I saw her, we biked around to local breweries.

    The sun shone against our faces as we sipped from each other’s beers out on the back patio—having what felt like a raw conversation about intimacy patterns and fears. She was working on hers, she said. I acknowledged some of my own in return.

    When she asked if she could kiss me (for the fourth time that day) as we unlocked our bikes, I remember how wanted it made me feel.

    I carried that golden effervescent feeling with me into the next day. It was still with me when I opened a text from her—but  shattered into spiky glass shards when I read what it said.

    That she couldn’t continue seeing me. That she wasn’t in the right place emotionally.

    It’s not you, it’s me.

    We all know the spiel.

    **

    It wasn’t the first time I’d had my heart dropped from the Trauma Tower on top of which a woman and I had been insecurely attaching.

    This woman was just one among several in a pattern. You can call it trauma bonding. A hot and cold relationship. The anxious-avoidant dance. These push-pull dynamics that played out through my twenties had elements of all of these.

    One day the person would open up. We’d connect and it’d feel like I’d really seen them, and they’d seen me.

    The next day they’d pull back (even in the seeming absence of overt conflict). The contrast was painful. The shift felt jarring.

    According to Healthline, “Recognizing emotional unavailability can be tricky. Many emotionally unavailable people have a knack for making you feel great about yourself and hopeful about the future of your relationship.”

    Whenever these situationships crumbled, it would really break me. Feelings I’d hoped to have buried for good would resurrect—among them, doubt that anyone would ever choose to see and accept me fully.

    And yet the “connections” felt so hard to disentangle from once formed. From my perspective, the woman and I often had strong chemistry. Words came easily. We talked about vulnerable things, but could also laugh and enjoy the lighter aspects of life. They were my type physically. The perceived strength of our connection compelled me to stay.

    **

    It took me some time to realize that each relationship of this sort that I remained in spoke to unhealed parts of me.

    Part of the healing I did over the past few years involved looking at the role I played in them. It involved realizing that I too contributed to the cycle—by continuing to give chances to a person who couldn’t (or didn’t want to) help meet my needs.

    I contributed by staying and hoping the situation would shift. That the clouds obstructing their full attention and investment would magically lift. That they’d depart to reveal the sun that was waiting all along to wrap its powerful rays around my heart.

    I contributed by not establishing boundaries. For instance, in one situationship I felt as if I’d become the woman’s therapist, there to reassure her when self-doubts overtook her; to validate her following any perceived rejection by strangers; to coddle her ego when she felt unattractive in the eyes of the male barista who’d just served us our coffee.

    I could have set a limit around how much she confided in or leaned on me. I could’ve communicated that if we were just friends with occasional benefits, then I only had so much bandwidth. That it didn’t feel reciprocal to be her on-call therapist.

    I also could have left at any time. I chose to stay in these situations, though, despite the signs. Perhaps I thought those signs were ambiguous enough to be negotiable. Or that I was just giving the benefit of the doubt.

    Additionally, I chose to look at the women for who I wanted them to be, who they could be somewhere down the line, and who they sometimes were—rather than seeing them for who they fully were on the whole and in the present moment.

    When we see others for their potential, no matter how innocent or well-meaning our willful obscuring of the present reality may be, we pay a cost.

    **

    Inconsistency and unavailability are less attractive to me the older I get and the more that I heal from my past trauma. Game-playing has even begun to repel me in a way it didn’t used to. When a person shows signs of it, I notice my interest starting to wane. Conversely, qualities like consistency and decisiveness, and earnestness are increasingly attractive now.

    In my thirties I no longer find the emotional ups and downs of an anxious-avoidant dynamic sustainable. I want something calmer.

    I hope for a connection that takes a load off—not one that adds more stress to a world already saddled with the weight of so much of it. One wherein we’re both safe spaces for the other. I believe this is what we all deserve, granted that we too are willing to put in some work.

    In general, having a choosier mentality means you may stay single for more years than you imagined—because it’s true that the dating pool bubbles with people whose traumas and defenses are incompatible with our own. I think maybe it always will.

    Still, when I picture all the heart pain spared, it’s an approach that feels right. The thought now of being pulled back into another cycle of fleeting hope and optimism punctured by blindsiding shards of disappointment unsettles me more than the thought of staying indefinitely un-partnered.

    Not only that, it also saddens me. The sadness I feel is for every person ever caught in the same emotional cyclone. I can’t help but think it’s such a tremendous drain of energy. Energy that could be used instead to vitalize both the larger world and our own lives.

    **

    No more will I follow the bread-crumby path to another person’s heart when it takes me so far from the integrity of my own.

    And anyone who’s been through similar experiences—I encourage you to remain hopeful that one day, a person who’s deserving of your love will step into your life and onto your path. Until then, remember you have you. Treasure yourself, treat yourself well, and realize you’re worth more than chasing. You deserve to put your feet up and let someone chase you—or better still, come meet you in the middle.

  • Healthy Relationships Aren’t Always Glamorous

    Healthy Relationships Aren’t Always Glamorous