Tiny Buddha

Tag: self acceptance

  • Where Our Inner Critic Comes from and How to Tame It

    Where Our Inner Critic Comes from and How to Tame It

    “Your inner critic is simply a part of you that needs more self-love.” ~Amy Leigh Mercee

    We all have that critical and judgmental inner voice that tells us we’re not good enough, smart enough, pretty enough, etc.

    It tells us we don’t do anything right. It calls us stupid. It compares us to other people and speaks harshly about ourselves and our bodies. It tells us all the things we did or said “wrong” after communicating or connecting with someone.

    Sometimes it projects criticism outward onto others so we can feel better about ourselves. Other times we try to suppress our inner critic through overachieving, being busy, and accumulating more and more things.

    Sometimes it’s a protective mechanism that’s trying to keep us focused on our self-judgments so we won’t be authentic, because, if we are, we may be rejected and not get the love and acceptance we want.

    But, by doing this, we’re creating even more pain and suffering because we’re disconnecting from and rejecting our own essence.

    Just ignoring the critical voice doesn’t always make it go away. It may initially, but soon enough it will resurface if we haven’t healed/embraced our hurts, traumas, and wounds and shifted our internal patterning, which is where it comes from. 

    Have you ever heard the expression “What we resist persists?” Have you ever told an angry person to “just calm down” or a screaming child to stop crying? Does it work? Not when our energy is in a heightened state.

    Why is someone angry? Why is a child screaming and crying? Because there’s something going on internally that’s creating how they’re behaving. There’s often an unmet need or pain that’s asking for attention.

    Thinking a more positive thought to compensate can sometimes work, but sometimes it just creates an inner debate and mistrust in ourselves because deep inside we don’t believe what we’re saying.

    As children, many of us were taught to suppress those “bad” feelings because if we expressed them, we may have been or were punished. Welcome to the beginning of the critical voice; it’s often a frightened part of us that’s wounded and asking for attention. It wants to be seen, heard, and understood.

    My dad used to get really frustrated with me and constantly told me, “Damn it, Deb, you never do anything right.” Hearing that many times left an imprint in my subconscious. I started living with that interpretation of myself, and the critical voice kept me “in check” with being this way.

    For me, the critical voice was my dad’s voice as well as the deep shame I was feeling for making mistakes and not doing things the “right way.”

    I was holding in suppressed anger, sadness, guilt, unforgiveness, resentment, traumas, and pain that I tried to keep hidden with a smile on my face, but eventually it turned into a shame-based identity.

    My inner voice criticized me whenever I fell short or wasn’t perfect according to society or my family’s expectations.

    Just like when we’re triggered by another person, our critical voice is asking for our attention and guiding us to what needs healing, resolving, forgiving, understanding, compassion, and unconditional love.

    When it comes to the surface, we’re experiencing an automatic regression; it’s a part of us that’s frozen in time. It’s a reflection of our unhealed wounds, which created ideas of not being enough or that something’s wrong with us. Basically, it’s a trance of unworthiness.

    When we’re in a trance of unworthiness, we try to soothe ourselves with addictive behaviors. It’s hard to relax because we think we need to do something to be better and prove ourselves, so not doing anything, resting, isn’t safe.

    When we’re in a trance of unworthiness, it’s hard to be intimate with others. Deep inside we think there’s something wrong with us, so we don’t get close because they may find out and leave. This keeps us from being authentic because we don’t feel okay with who we are.

    Deep down I felt unworthy, unlovable, and undeserving, and the critical voice showed me what I was feeling and believing. I didn’t feel safe in life or in my body. How could I? I was living with so much hurt, pain, and shame inside.

    The critical voice is often stronger for those of us with unhealed wounds and who are hard on ourselves, and it tries to get us with shame and guilt. We’re always looking at ourselves as the “good self” or “bad self,” and if we’re identified with a “bad self,” we’ll act in accordance with that in all areas of our life.

    If we’ve become identified with the critical voice, it’s who we think we are; it just seems normal. And when we start to be more kind and loving, it doesn’t seem right because our identity becomes threatened and our system registers that as danger.

    That happened for me. Eventually I became identified with being a “bad girl” who’s critical and hard on herself, and, even when I started being a little kinder, more compassionate, and more loving, I felt an angst in my body. It wasn’t familiar, and even deeper, it wasn’t okay for me to be this way. My survival was at stake, so I would automatically go back to self-criticizing and judging, without conscious awareness.

    The critical voice didn’t only speak to me harshly; it also told me to do self-abusive things like cutting my wrists and face, starving my body or eating lots of sweets, and exercising for hours like a mad woman to get rid of the food I ate, whether it was a carrot or sweets, because I felt guilty. 

    Even after twenty-three years of going in and out of hospitals and treatment centers, taking medication, and doing traditional therapy, nothing ever changed; the critical voice had a hold on me.

    It was a powerful force, and when I tried to stop it, it would get louder. It thought it was protecting me in a backwards sort of way; if it hurt me first, no one else would be able to do so.

    When people used to say to me, “Debra, you just need to love yourself,” I looked at them like they were crazy. I had no concept of what that even meant because I had no experience of it.

    What I’ve come to see with myself and those I assist in their healing is that the more we keep our deep hurts, traumas, anger, guilt, shame, and pain hidden, the more the critical voice chimes in.

    And, for some, like me, it seems overpowering, so we try to find relief through smoking, drinking, eating, or being busy, and/or we experience severe depression, anxiety, or self-harming.

    When we’re consumed by the critical voice, we’re disconnected from our true essence, and when we’re disconnected from our true essence, the love within, we feel a sense of separation; we don’t feel safe with ourselves or others, and we don’t feel lovable for who we are, as we are.

    This is why many people can change, be happy for a day, but then go back to their critical and/or judgmental ways. Our automatic programming, stemming from our core beliefs, kicks in. It’s just like an addiction, and in a sense it is.

    We can try meditating, deep breathing, and positive thinking, but, unless we address the underlying cause, we’re likely to keep thinking the thoughts our internal patterning dictates. They come from a part of us that doesn’t feel loved or safe.

    So, what do we do when the critical voice comes to visit?

    What do we do when it’s what we’re used to, and it just happens automatically?

    What do we do when we don’t know how to be with ourselves and how we’re feeling in a kind and compassionate way?

    What do we do when we have no concept of what it even means to experience self-love or ease in our bodies?

    First off, please don’t blame yourself for how you’re being. Awareness isn’t about judgment; it’s about kindness, compassion, and love.

    Working with and healing our traumas, where the critical voice was formed, is key in shifting our internal energy patterning. Many people call this inner child healing and/or shadow working. 

    This is a soft and gentle process of moving through the layers of trauma with compassion and love and making peace with our protector parts.

    Through inner child healing, we can shift and transform that “negative” patterning and how the energy is flowing in our body. We can help that part of us that’s frightened, hurting, and maybe feeling separate have a new and true understanding so we can feel loved and safe in our bodies.

    When we pause and take a deep breath when we first hear or sense the critical voice, it allows our nervous systems to reset and helps us come back to the present moment; this allows space for compassion, healing, and investigation.

    Why do I believe that?

    Where did I learn that?

    Is it true?

    How does my higher self see this and me?

    Does the critical voice totally go away? No, it may still chime in; it’s part of being human. But once we realize where it’s coming from and heal/shift that energy pattern, more love can flow through, and we can experience our truth. When we learn how to be our own loving parent and meet the needs our caregivers didn’t meet when we were children, the critical voice often softens.

    Remember, the critical voice is just a scared part of us who really wants attention, love, and a way to feel safe. When we no longer take it personally, when we’re no longer attached to it as our identity, we can offer ourselves compassion, understanding, love, truth, and whatever else we’re needing.

    Life can be messy, and our thoughts can be too. This isn’t about perfection; this is about experiencing a deeper connection with our loving essence.

    There’s a sweet and tender spirit that lives within you. This spirit is your deepest truth. This spirit is the essence of you. You’re naturally lovable, valuable, and worthy. You’re a gift to humanity. So please be kind, gentle, loving, and caring with yourself.

  • How to Embrace Your Physical ‘Flaws’ and Feel Comfortable in Your Skin

    How to Embrace Your Physical ‘Flaws’ and Feel Comfortable in Your Skin

    “When you’re comfortable in your skin, you look beautiful, regardless of any flaws.” ~Emily Deschanel

    I started doubting the way I looked at the age of eight following comments from other children, about my twin sister being cuter/prettier than me. During adolescence I suffered from bullying because of my appearance and thought I was ugly. Like many others, I believed for many years that everything would’ve been easier if I was better-looking.

    At eighteen, when I left home for military service (mandatory in Israel), I started to get positive feedback from men and to feel much better about the way I looked. But still, for many years after there was a big gap between my self-perception and how others saw me.

    Today, at fifty-one, even though I’m far from perfect-looking, I have finally come to terms with my appearance.

    In my work, I encounter many women, some traditionally beautiful, others with a pleasant appearance and charm, who feel that due to the way they look, there’s no chance that somebody would want them. And I know children and teenagers who think that something is wrong with them and who feel ashamed of themselves because they don’t look like models.

    Accepting how we look really comes down to developing self-esteem and self-love. Nonetheless, today I want to present to you ten steps that can create a shift in your relationship with your appearance and your body.

    1. Clean your social media feeds of anything that makes you feel bad about yourself and your body.

    Every time you scroll through social media and come across images or ideas that make you feel bad about your life or the way you look, stop following that person or page.

    You may tell yourself that certain content motivates you to change, but you can’t effectively create change from a place of self-condemnation, jealousy, or fear. So if you choose to follow someone, make sure their content genuinely inspires you and helps you feel better about yourself, not worse.

    2. Don’t try to force yourself to love a body part you don’t like.

    I know I might be breaking a myth here, but you don’t need to love each and every part of your body in order to love yourself.

    Trying to force yourself into loving a body part that troubles you might do more harm than good, as it consumes vital energy and evokes harmful self-judgment if you fail.

    If you don’t like the look of a particular part, you can still focus on its good qualities, like its strength, function, or the pleasure it can give you.

    For example, the breasts you judge as too small might produce all the milk needed for your baby. And those legs that seem too big to you might enable you to hike and enjoy nature.

    3. Think of people you love and appreciate who do not have a perfect look.

    I know it’s hard to stop believing that attractiveness is the key to happiness. That’s why I don’t expect that this step and the following one will radically change your self-perception. Nevertheless, I think it’s important to use them as a reality check from time to time.

    Start by creating a list of at least five people you love, appreciate, or look up to, who do not have a perfect look, yet you still find beautiful, charming, or attractive.

    Now think of what makes these people attractive to you.

    I bet that what you most like about them is their heart and personality, something we often forget to take into account when we are so absorbed in our shortcomings.

    I remember that my mother used to look at me with admiration and say how beautiful I was. But since I didn’t think I was beautiful, it used to annoy me.

    Now that my beloved nephew is a teenager, I find myself looking at him in this way. While he inspects his looks with critical eyes and mostly finds faults, I see a handsome young man with the biggest heart I ever saw, exceptional wisdom, and a unique personality, and he takes my breath away.

    4. Think of people who don’t look perfect, who are in happy relationships.

    If you insist that a worthy person would want you “if only…” (you had bigger breasts, blonde hair, or you weighed three pounds less or were four inches taller), think of people you know who are in happy relationships with great people, despite not having what you would consider perfect looks.

    Create a list of five or more such people to remind yourself that someone out there would find you perfect just as you are.

    Recognizing that you don’t need to look perfect to be lovable can help you accept yourself and stop wasting energy obsessing over your appearance.

    5. Nourish your body with things that are good for it and things you find satisfying.

    On the journey to loving ourselves and our bodies, people often suggest we nourish our bodies with healthy foods only.

    Though I largely agree, it’s easy to become obsessive and hate yourself every time you eat something that is considered unhealthy.

    Twenty-eight years ago, when freeing myself from an eating disorder, I integrated into my daily diet the foods that drove me to binge eat, and now I no longer feel the need to overeat them.

    This way, I eat in a more balanced way, experience greater enjoyment, and eliminate guilty feelings.

    And the happiest result of this decision is that it enabled me to lose the extra weight I was carrying and to gain complete freedom from obsessing over food and weight—which means I now feel far more comfortable in my own skin.

    6. Don’t force yourself to do mirror work.

    Another common recommendation that I personally find ineffective is to do what’s called “mirror work.”  That is, to stand in front of the mirror and praise your body.

    If there are body parts that you don’t like, and you feel down every time you see them in the mirror, instead of inspecting them closely from the least flattering angles, look at your body in dim lighting. This will allow you to enjoy the way you look without seeing all the minor flaws that no one but you sees anyway.

    If mirror work does work for you, that’s great. But if you are like me, be good to yourself and abandon it.

    7. Maintain a strong and healthy body.

    Love for our bodies stems not only from liking the way we look but also from feeling healthy and strong and being able to enjoy our bodies’ capabilities.

    I, for instance, am really proud of my body, which today is stronger than ever.

    The best thing Covid did for me is force me to quit the gym. I’ve started practicing yoga at home, and today I’m able to take much more advanced classes than I did a year ago. Recently I started running on the beach as well, and a few days ago I completed my first six-mile run!

    To maintain a strong and healthy body, incorporate physical activity into your daily routine. It may be exercising, dancing, running, walking, or hiking in nature. And if you don’t find any activity that you enjoy, focus on the good feeling your chosen activity provides.

    8. Stop talking to and about yourself in an offensive way.

    Statements like “no normal man would ever want someone with hips like mine” are not only detached from reality but also extremely offensive toward oneself.

    If you already completed step four (noting people who do not look perfect yet are in happy relationships), you must have realized that many worthy people choose imperfect-looking partners because of who they are, which is far more important than a perfect look!

    So talk to (and about) yourself as you’d talk to someone you love, not from a place of self-loathing. You don’t have to say that the part you don’t like is attractive, but if you stop condemning it, your feelings about it may start to change.

    Also, notice when you’re tempted to talk about your physical flaws with other people. The more you focus on your perceived shortcomings, the more you’ll obsess over them, and the less energy you’ll have to focus on the many beautiful things about you that have nothing to do with your looks.

    9. Set your boundaries with people who make you feel bad about your body.

    It’s important to spend time with people who love your body just as it is.

    If you are in a relationship with someone who keeps putting you down for your looks, don’t downplay or justify it.

    You may tell yourself that they’re just being honest, but you don’t have to be perfect for someone to love you, and no one who truly loves you would ever judge you for your looks or talk down to you.

    Even if they say they’re simply encouraging you to take care of your health, you don’t need to tolerate cruel comments about your appearance or constant reminders that you better not eat so much.

    If anyone around you comments on your looks, learn how to set your boundaries with them. Tell them you’re not comfortable discussing your appearance with them and therefore not going to participate in such a conversion anymore, or physically remove yourself from the situation when they start putting you down.

    10. Practice meditation!

    At the end of the day, whether we’re talking about happiness, self-love, or body-acceptance, I recommend practicing meditation (or more accurately, practicing the ability to be present in the moment).

    It’s only when we are present here and now that we can clearly see the reality that is in front of us, instead of the distorted reality created by our minds, and feel who we truly are—not just a body but a heart and soul.

    When we’re present, we’re simply in our bodies instead of judging them, and thus we’re automatically in a state of self-acceptance. Then our true beauty naturally shines through.

  • Where My Depression Really Came From and What Helped Me Heal

    Where My Depression Really Came From and What Helped Me Heal

    “How you do one thing is how you do everything.” ~Unknown

    One afternoon, during a particularly low slump, I was getting out of the shower. Quickly reaching for something on the sink, I knocked an old glass off the counter, shattering it onto the floor.

    In most cases, one might experience stress, frustration, or sadness upon accidentally breaking an object that belongs to them. They might feel agitation on top of their already poor mood. But in the moment the glass shattered, I felt instant relief.

    It was an old item I’d gotten at a thrift store, and the image on the glass was all but worn off. In the back of my mind, I’d wanted to get rid of the whole glass set, and the shattering of one of its pieces served as a firm confirmation it was time to let go.

    In that unexpected moment of relief, I realized I was holding on to the glasses out of some strange obligation and a fear that I wouldn’t have the money to replace things if I gave them away.

    I marveled at this interesting aspect of my consciousness I had not noticed before, wondering, “What else am I doing this with? How many things in my life are subtle burdens that I tolerate out of some vague sense of obligation? Does it really make me a “good person” to tolerate so much, to hold on to so much unwanted baggage from the past?

    Suddenly, I remembered something I had recently learned from one of my mentors about depression: We must stop clinging to people, places, and things that no longer deliver the joy they once did. Even more importantly, release things that never delivered joy, even when we thought they would.

    This sacred practice is all too underrated. We must cut the dead weight in our lives, even if it is unnerving. Whether it is a negative relationship, a job in which you are disrespected, a habit that is draining your health, or even some unwanted items in your home that are taking up too much space.

    It is our stubborn unwillingness, our fear of letting go, that keeps us in low spirits, day after day. In these instances, we are waiting for the impossible. We are waiting for things to miraculously improve without us having to do anything different.

    Even though I was in a bad mood, I thanked the glass and the sudden shattering for its lesson. The humbling realization was that I was a clinger—someone who stuck with people, places, and things long after they’d proven they were not right for me.

    As the saying goes, “How you do one thing is how you do everything.” The glasses that I didn’t really want any more were a small symbol of how I was an energetic hoarder. I kept things until life forcefully yanked them out of my hands.

    Often, I clung to subpar situations out of fear. I was afraid of being left alone, with nothing, so I’d gotten myself into the habit of anxiously settling. And as we all know, settling is no way to live a satisfying, dignified life.

    When we settle, the parts of us that aspire to grow are denied respect. We subconsciously tell ourselves it is not worth it—we are not worth it.

    My habit of settling had gotten me into more binds than I could count—low-paying jobs, incompatible relationships, boring days, and restless nights wondering what I was supposed to be doing. Why weren’t things better?

    The simple answer was, I didn’t choose anything better. I didn’t know how.

    When we don’t know ourselves, we don’t know what we want and need. And when we doubt our worth or our ability to make things happen, we hold ourselves back from what would make us happy. This is where depression breeds, along with burnout, stress, and apathy.

    So how can this painful spiral be prevented? And if you already find yourself in this predicament, how can you climb out of the hole?

    1. Assess everything in your life.

    What just isn’t working, no matter how hard you try, in work, your relationships, your habits? These are the areas where you need to make a decision. Either let something go or make a change that is significant enough to transform how you feel about the situation.

    2. Find the hope.

    Hopelessness is a huge aspect of lingering depression. The problem is, people often try to talk themselves into being hopeful about something that actually isn’t going to work (e.g.: a relationship that was meant to end). Instead of clinging, let go and seek out new things that feel truly hopeful instead.

    It’s not always easy to let go, especially when it pertains to relationships, and particularly when you’re not hopeful there’s anything better out there for you. Start by asking yourself, “Why do I believe this is the best I can do, or what I deserve?” And then, “What would I need to believe in order to let go of this thing that isn’t good for me and open myself up to something better?”

    3. Change anything.

    When we are stuck in a rut, it usually means things have been the same way for too long. Routine and consistency can be a poison or a cure, depending on the situation. If you’re feeling stuck, look for how doing the same thing every day isn’t working. Sometimes, making any random change is enough to shake you out of that rut.

    This could mean taking a new route to work or doing something creative when you usually binge watch Netflix. Sometimes little changes can give us a surprising level of new insight and self-understanding.

    4. Lastly, admit to what you really want.

    If you won’t risk being hopeful and taking action toward what you really want, you will default to a life of tragic safety. You will shy away from the truth, clinging to all the things that don’t really resonate with you. Ironically, you have to be willing to risk loss to in order to acquire valuable things in life.

    So start by being brave enough to admit what you really want in all aspects of your life, and perhaps more importantly, what you need. What would make you feel fulfilled and excited about life again?

    —

    We often think of depression as a vengeful disease that robs us of our joy and vitality. But when we begin to look at our lives with more honesty, we can see depression for what it really is: a messenger.

    I like to think of depression as the first phase of enlightenment—a reckoning we must endure to come out the other side with clarity. When we stop pushing negative feelings away, we can discover why they exist and what steps will resolve them.

    For me, this meant letting go of how I thought my life should be and embracing how it was. Rather than lamenting about the past or obsessing about the future, I started taking practical steps to improve the present. This included cleaning up my diet, giving up a job that no longer worked for me, and digging into attachment styles to learn how to improve my relationships. The more action I took, the more hopeful and empowered I felt.

    The road to happiness isn’t nearly as direct as we would like it to be, but this gives us the opportunity to access what we truly wanted all along: self-understanding, self-acceptance, and self-empowerment. Depression isn’t a problem, but a road-sign. The question is, will we ignore it, or let ourselves be guided?

  • On Those Hard Days When You Feel Like Nothing You Do Matters

    On Those Hard Days When You Feel Like Nothing You Do Matters

    “Just a reminder in case your mind is playing tricks on you today: You matter. You’re important. You’re loved. Your presence on this earth makes a difference whether you see it or not.” ~Unknown

    Today I woke up feeling like nothing I do matters. I didn’t want to wake up feeling like this, but I did.

    I got myself out of bed, brushed my teeth, and went through the motions until things inside my mind started to feel unbearable.

    The first thing I did was try to reason with myself, tell myself that, of course I matter. I tell everyone else in my life that they matter and they’re enough just as they are. But there is a tiny voice in my mind that feels loud. Just chanting, “You know you’re trash, people are lying to you. You know you do terrible things and have hurt other people. Just give up.”

    It reminds me of every mistake I’ve ever made. It attacks me with memories of my hurting someone with how I worded something or reminds me of someone who blocked me on social media, or just said, “I don’t like her because of xyz.”

    This feels immobilizing. By the time I am done with this thought process I cannot leave the living room chair I am sitting in. I pull a blanket up to my chin, curl up into a small ball, and start crying. “You’re right,” I say to myself. “You win. I should just give up.”

    My mind is spiraling with everything I have ever done that went unnoticed, that no one cared about. The essays I wrote that only a few people read. The points I made that were later recycled and went on to be successful once someone else made those same points that didn’t seem to matter when they came from me. And I have the overwhelming feeling that I deserved the bad reception, because I, too, am bad.

    Never mind that there are dozens of things that I’ve done that were greatly appreciated. That made a difference. That moved someone else enough to say, “This helped me.”

    Never mind that sometimes we can’t control algorithms, SEO, and the like.

    Never mind that sometimes you make a stupid spelling mistake even though you re-read your piece fourteen times. You just didn’t notice it, but people were turned off from the piece because of it.

    That’s the thing, being a mental health advocate, I feel like my whole purpose on some days as I struggle to get by is to hear someone say, “This helped me.” And if I helped no one, then why did I do it?

    But while I was busy worrying about who I have helped and if my helping got noticed, I may have forgotten to help myself.

    All the clichés, the putting on my own oxygen mask first, filling my own cup to fill others, they are reminders that I need on a daily basis, or I risk becoming my own victim.

    And honestly, to me, there is nothing worse than someone who is helping other people just to be a martyr. They continue toiling to help others but neglect themselves so that they can say, “I almost died doing things for other people.”

    Who are you useful to once dead, or even just burned out? The fight for mental health awareness and to end the stigma is long arduous. And if my goal really is to help others, to be there for the long haul, then I must find a reason to also do it for myself.

    That mean voice feels so loud, but suddenly an argument erupts in my mind.

    The other side finally feels empowered to speak because I kept pushing, although mentally exhausted, against the part of me that was convinced I deserve nothing. I told the quieter voice that it was okay if I messed up. That this doesn’t negate everything I have done that has helped someone, and yes, even if that was just one person. Even if it just helped me to get it out there into the universe.

    And really, the main thing is this: Everything we do doesn’t have to matter on a grand scale. It doesn’t have to leave others speechless. It doesn’t have to change the world. Just doing it is something to be proud of.

    Suddenly I feel a small sense of ease. I am tired from arguing with myself. I am tense from sitting in a tight ball with my jaw clenched this whole time. I unravel myself. I release my jaw. I inhale deeply and release more tension as I exhale. I choose to open up my laptop and write about what went on in my mind just now.

    If you’ve ever felt this way, like nothing you do matters and it’s never good enough—like you have to do more or be more so people will notice that you matter and you’re good enough—here’s what I’d like you to know:

    You are allowed to simply live. You are allowed to just be you. You are allowed to just exist and for that to be enough. You are allowed to be content with just breathing on some days. And you are allowed to be proud of yourself for wanting to help others, even if on some days it seems you’ve helped no one but yourself. It’s enough. You’re enough.

  • Why I’ve Decided to Accept Myself Instead of Trying to ‘Fix’ Myself

    Why I’ve Decided to Accept Myself Instead of Trying to ‘Fix’ Myself

    “No amount of self-improvement can make up for any lack of self-acceptance.” ~Robert Holden

    In our culture, we are constantly bombarded with the newest and best things to improve ourselves and/or our quality of life. Unfortunately, this leads to the belief that we need to obtain some sort of thing before we could accept ourselves as we are.

    When I was a child, I constantly battled with my weight. By the age of fourteen, I was 225 pounds (mind you, I am 5’2,” on a good day).

    Fortunately for me, a doctor pointed out the concern of childhood obesity. She kindly let me know that I was at the perfect time to lose weight before it began to have significant health complications. I was able to quickly learn how to eat better and engage in physical activity. I dropped about eighty pounds within a year, and the attention I received was overwhelming.

    I quickly developed a conditioned response of self-improvement, attention, and ultimately, love—meaning I began to see that altering myself would gain me recognition. But come on, who doesn’t want to be loved and accepted by others? Well, this attention introduced a whole different concept.

    I realized I was not receiving that positive attention before, as people usually chose to pick me apart for my weight. Therefore, as I grew older, I became addicted to this notion of self-improvement because it brought upon the positive attention and affirmation I had lacked. Furthermore, I had a hard time just being me without trying to change something about myself.

    For me, self-acceptance is hard to conceptualize on a good day. On a bad day, it can be in shards of glass on the floor. Through my trials and errors, I have learned that self-acceptance is a skill we can practice. It is not an innate trait that we either have or don’t. It is something that can be nourished and nurtured.

    With practice, I began feeling at peace with who I am—with all my strengths and my weaknesses. However, this didn’t just happen overnight.

    I had struggled with a lack of self-acceptance for many years. I felt like I needed to be a certain way or look a certain way to be accepted. Immediate access to media and social media fed right into this concept. I fell into the comparison trap, and I fixated on what I didn’t have by putting my attention on what everyone else seemed to have.

    I’d think, “Well, she looks a lot better than me,” “Man, their family seems perfect,” or “My career doesn’t seem to be that successful.” These thoughts would consume me, and have a negative impact on my mood and self-esteem.

    Let me be clear, I have to be mindful of this trap every single day, multiple times a day, as self-acceptance, love, and compassion issues are deeply ingrained.

    When I was a little girl, I consistently received the message that I needed to change parts of who I was to fit the mold of society. Peers would consistently comment on my weight and appearance. Teachers would constantly criticize my work. Coaches would often compare to the “better, more capable” players. I am sure some of these messages came with good intention, but they had a destructive impact on my self-worth and value.

    As I have gotten older, I have learned that having a good relationship with myself is one of the most important things I will achieve in my life. However, because I didn’t want others to see my bad stuff, I tended to project an outward image of having it together, or striving to get it together.

    I was not as open about my consistent struggle with depression, anxiety, and body image. I would deny some of those internal battles, and in doing so was never being who I truly was. More so, I struggled in knowing who I was and I developed a conditional relationship with myself.

    For a long time, I also struggled with self-forgiveness, which was a huge barrier to self-acceptance. I struggled because I was ashamed of my choices and wished I had done things differently. By twenty-six years old, I had a failed marriage, filed for bankruptcy, and was facing some legal consequences due to my irresponsible behaviors.

    I began trying to perfect myself in any way possible. I was constantly looking for a new health fad to follow. I purchased several self-help books, always looking for what was wrong with me and finding a way to fix it. Clearly, I had no concept of self-acceptance. I just believed who I was at my core was bad and I needed to change it. I was never comfortable with just being with me; I needed to be improving something.

    Soon I began to see that true self-acceptance has absolutely nothing to do with self-improvement. I was always trying to achieve things, which may have helped temporarily, but it was a poor substitute for true intimacy with myself, which is what I needed.

    When I set out to improve myself, I attempted to fix something about myself. I couldn’t possibly feel secure or good enough if my worth depended on constantly bettering myself.

    I struggled with what I like to call the “destination happiness” illness. It implies “I’ll be okay when…” or “as soon as I accomplish this one thing, I’ll be happy…” With that mindset, I was never happy because I was always looking forward to the future, missing the present. I was also just checking off the boxes in life, never fully embracing the moment.

    A turning point in my life was when a friend of mine said, “I feel you are always looking for something wrong with you. What would it take to just accept yourself for who you are?” This was a true epiphany for me. I was always finding fault in myself. So, I began to reflect on this statement and started to make some active changes toward self-acceptance.

    I began to celebrate my many strengths.

    I started to make time to honor what I brought to the table.

    I worked hard to take in praise from others without doubting their statements.

    I cultivated a positive support system. I knew I naturally become similar to the people I chose to be around. So, I built a support system that is inspiring and fulfilling, not discouraging and depleting.

    I made a commitment to stop comparing myself to others. I could acknowledge others’ strengths without disregarding or belittling my own.

    I began to understand and quiet the inner-critic. I didn’t shut this voice out completely, but I worked on it being constructive as opposed to hurtful.

    I made a conscious effort to forgive myself. I let go of the regret and began to learn from my past.

    Finally, I began to practice self-compassion and kindness. If I wouldn’t say it to someone I love, I didn’t say it to myself.

    With all of these steps, I began to understand who I am and know what I want, while being comfortable in my own skin. I value myself and have gained respect from others. I am able to face challenges in my life head-on. I embrace all parts of who I am, not just the good stuff. I recognize my limitations and weaknesses.

    I must say, though, that it is possible to accept and love ourselves and still be committed to personal growth. Accepting ourselves as we are does not mean we won’t have the motivation to change or improve. It implies that self-acceptance is not correlated with alterations of who we are at our core.

    Nathaniel Branden stated, “Self-acceptance is my refusal to be in an adversarial relationship with myself.” Many of us live our lives resisting ourselves—comparing ourselves to others, pushing ourselves to be perfect, and trying to fit a certain mold of who we think we are supposed to be. I hope that by shedding some light on the notion of acceptance, I have helped you find courage to let that all go.

    We will never know who we are unless we discard who we pretend to be. And it would be a shame not to find out, because we are beautiful and worth knowing, just as we are.

  • Lessons from a Life Lost Too Soon: Don’t Let Your Inner Critic Destroy You

    Lessons from a Life Lost Too Soon: Don’t Let Your Inner Critic Destroy You

    “What you tell yourself every day will lift you up or tear you down. Choose wisely.” ~Unknown

    It was a story I just couldn’t get out of my head. A young teen had died in a town not far from where I live, a town where I used to live. I knew people who had kids who knew this girl.

    I heard she was a swimmer, bright and popular. At first the talk was about how she’d died. I heard someone surmise that she was killed. Someone else said it was a horrible accident, and of course, there were murmurings that maybe she had done it herself. And then, I heard nothing.

    Months passed and I eventually put the whole incident out of my mind, until I came across an article in our major metro newspaper. The girl’s parents had come forward to share the terrible truth about their beautiful teenage daughter who threw herself off an overpass.

    What could make a girl who seemingly had it all make that terrible choice? Her grades were good, she had friends, she was an athlete, and she had mad robotics skills. No one knew the depth of her suffering, and that’s just how she wanted it.

    At one point, the girl vaguely confessed to a teacher that she was stressed, and the teacher immediately shared this information with her parents. They in turn brought her to therapy, but the therapist never learned the truth or depth of this girl’s suffering. No one did, until it was too late. Not surprisingly, the girl’s parents were completely blindsided when they learned what their daughter had done.

    So how did her parents come to understand what led to this terrible tragedy? And what did they hope to achieve by sharing their daughter’s painful story with the reporter? The answer was in the girl’s journal, excerpts of which were featured in the article.

    The parents had not even been aware that their daughter had kept a journal until after her passing. What they learned upon finding her journal was that for one year prior to her suicide she had written a daily diatribe of the worst, most hateful insults directed at herself. This is something she allowed no one to see—not her closest friends, not her parents, not her therapist, no one.

    As I read through the excerpts, one word kept coming to my mind over and over again. The word was “indoctrination.”

    This girl had utterly been indoctrinating herself as if she had joined a cult, hell bent on getting her to feel nothing but utter contempt for herself.

    The reporter even pointed out that one of the many cruel, self-demeaning excerpts was written on a day when the girl and her robotics team had experienced a triumph at a competition, yet not one utterance of this victory was reflected in her writing. She had convinced herself that she was worthless, and she was not going to allow any evidence to the contrary to challenge that perception.

    Why am I telling you this story? First, let me ask you a question. Do you have a voice inside your head that tells you that you are unworthy, undeserving, ugly, stupid, or any number of other similarly hateful messages? I do. It’s harsh and it’s painful and it’s shameful. It’s the voice of self-abuse, and it can prevent us from enjoying life by shaming us for even our most minor imperfections.

    Those of us who live with this voice, tolerate it. While we know it’s not pleasant, we don’t typically see it as deleterious to our health. We don’t challenge it; we endure it. We sometimes try to drown it out with food or sex or alcohol.

    This girl however, took it to another level. She gave that voice power, she wrote down the toxic words in her head every day and drank them in even as they slowly poisoned her mind into believing that she didn’t deserve to live. That thought, that realization, hit me like a sledge hammer.

    It was at that moment that I asked myself a question. If the words she wrote down, reinforcing every ill-conceived, misguided, self-negating thought she had about herself, had the power to kill her, what would the opposite have done?

    What if every day she’d come home and filled her journal with thoughts of self-compassion, self-forgiveness, and unconditional love and respect? Could the power of those words have saved her life? Could they have defeated her cancerous self-hate such that she’d be alive today to share her amazing journey back from hell with the world? I believe the answer to that question is, yes!

    I can’t bear the thought of this precious girl dying in vain, so in a way, I write this article on her behalf even though I never had the pleasure of meeting her. I feel I owe her a debt of gratitude. She helped me understand the immense power we have to either convince ourselves that we are worthy or that we are worthless.

    We can choose to let self-hatred breed and grow in silence, or we can notice it and challenge it. The funny thing is, I agree with her initial action. I believe that writing down or at least saying our self-deprecating thoughts out loud is a necessary first step for exposing the lies we mistake as truths. We can’t stop there though; we then need to move to self-compassion and take on the difficult task of writing a different narrative.

    Let me just say up front that this will not be easy. In fact, this may seem like a Herculean task. It’s essentially forcing a runaway train to change direction. Reflecting on my own experience of trying to turn the train around, I find that I often fall back into old habits, drifting toward the familiar path of self-hate, but I now understand it is imperative that I stay the course and continue my efforts to change. If I don’t, I will ultimately be consumed by my self-destructive inner dialogue.

    Most of us who grapple with our inner critic never choose to end our life physically, but make no mistake when we allow that voice to take over, we are killing ourselves. What this girl’s story did for me, and what I hope it will do for you, is stop the complacency around self-denigrating self-talk.

    While I still hear my negative thoughts, I don’t feed them. Instead, I spend time every day intentionally focusing on the positive, and when life is hard and I don’t do as well as I’d hoped I would, I do my best to meet myself with love and compassion.

    So, what would happen if you committed to indoctrinating yourself daily with nothing but self-love, self-praise, self-compassion, and gratitude? How might your experience, your outlook, your world change? Your words are powerful. Your choices are powerful. Choose self-kindness. After all, you deserve it.

  • A Simple Practice to Help You Appreciate How Wonderful You Are

    A Simple Practice to Help You Appreciate How Wonderful You Are

    “Stop criticizing yourself for everything you aren’t and start appreciating yourself for everything you are.” ~Unknown

    Are you your own best friend, your own worst critic, or somewhere in between? Do you tend to focus on what you see as your flaws, mistakes, and imperfections, comparing yourself to others you think are better than you? Sometimes, do you even wish you were someone else?

    It’s easy to get trapped in that way of thinking, especially in today’s consumer culture. From magazine ads to TV commercials, we are trained to compare ourselves to others and are subtly told we are not enough—not attractive enough, smart enough, popular enough, etc.

    While I try to practice mindfulness and not fall into this trap, living in this culture, I am not immune to that way of thinking. I was reminded of this just the other day, when I met a young couple who came to stay in a suite my husband and I rent out in our house.

    Having been doing housework and, not realizing the time, I opened the door with no make-up, in faded jeans, an old tee shirt, and sneakers. On the other side of the doorway, the young woman stood with perfectly applied make-up, perfectly styled hair, a cute dress, and heels, looking like she had just left a fashion magazine shoot.

    Meanwhile, the young man stared at me with a blank expression, which I took to mean he did not like me. I felt intimidated and inferior.

    A few days later, my husband saw the couple and had a short conversation with them. In it, he later told me, they actually raved about me!

    They said they were deeply impressed with a calm, “Zen” quality they sensed I had and instantly felt comfortable and relaxed around me. Considering what I had thought of the encounter, I was astonished to hear that. This taught me an important lesson.

    While we might worry about what we see as one of our flaws, others might not even notice it and instead be dazzled by one of our virtues.

    If others can see us in this positive light, so can we. But how?

    After studying several personal growth books, articles, and online classes, I gathered some key points about self-appreciation and wove them into a powerful practice. It helped me tremendously and I share it here in hopes it will do the same for you.

    Through it, you might experience for the first time in your whole life a real sense of self-appreciation and self-love. It’s something you can do any time you feel self-doubt or self-judgement or inferiority. It can help you relax into the knowingness that you are a unique, wonderful being.

    Embracing Yourself Practice

    Sadly, we often overlook the miracle that’s closest to us. It’s available to us from the moment we’re born to the moment we die. It’s ourselves.

    This practice is designed to help you connect with your own miraculous nature and appreciate how wonderful you really are.

    1. Centering yourself

    To get the most from this experience, feel free to turn off distractions like the TV, the ringer on your phone, and any kind of message alerts. Put your mental to-do list aside, just for now. It will still be there after this experience.

    Create some quiet, uninterrupted time to step back and nourish yourself. Give yourself permission to pause and receive the gift of this time. Make yourself comfortable, either sitting or laying down, preferably laying down.

    Gather your thoughts and energy from all the different directions they’ve been going. Bring them in and let them rest for these few moments, while you turn your attention to being here now.

    Take one slow, calming breath and release it. Take another deep breath and release it.

    2. Appreciating your body

    When you’re ready, rest your hands over your heart. Can you feel your heart beating?

    Breathing in, feel your lungs expand with air. Breathing out, feel your lungs relax. Again, feel them expanding in and relaxing out.

    Leave your hands over your heart or wrap them around your torso in a hug. Breathing in, feel your lungs expand. Breathing out, feel your lungs relax.

    Breathing normally, think about the amazing processes happening in your body right now, this very moment—the blood being circulated, the oxygen being exchanged, the cells absorbing nutrients, the nerves and neurons allowing you to hear the sounds around you.

    Feel the sensation of sitting or lying down where you are.

    Reflect on how a thought sends an impulse from your brain to your spinal cord, to your nerves, to your muscles, allowing you to move. Feel appreciation for your body for allowing you to experience life in this way.

    3. Appreciating your essence

    Now, reflect on your uniqueness. Of the billions of people on this planet, there is only one you.

    Think about the spark of life that animates your body, your essence that makes you, you. You might think of it as your personality or your spirit.

    Can you sense it? Do you feel or see anything related to it? Feel awe and appreciation for it.

    Think of the special qualities that make you a unique individual.

    Think of one quality you are grateful for about yourself. Maybe that quality is the fact that you are trying your best or something else. Whatever quality comes to mind, appreciate that about yourself.

    Feel grateful for another thing about yourself, maybe your intelligence or something else. Then feel grateful for another thing about yourself, maybe your kind heart or something else.

    Reflect on this idea: Life has good reason for expressing itself through you.

    4. Sending yourself love

    Feel the warmth of your hands on your heart or your torso. Feel appreciation for the unique individual you are.

    Think to yourself or say out loud, “I love myself.” Pause.

    Think or say again, “I love myself.” Pause.

    Think or say again, “I love myself.” Notice how that feels. Let that love sink in.

    Add anything else positive you’d like to say to yourself. What do you need to hear right now?

    Appreciate yourself for doing this practice. Rest your mind, taking a few more deep breaths. Look out and around you from this place of connection with yourself.

    Feel free to do this practice as often as you like, maybe a few times a week before getting up in the morning or before going to sleep at night—any time you’d like to feel a greater appreciation for yourself, any time you’d like to remind yourself that you are a miracle…because you are!

  • What My Dog Taught Me About Self-Acceptance

    What My Dog Taught Me About Self-Acceptance

    “Because one accepts oneself, the whole world accepts him or her.” ~Lao Tzu

    We all have recorded messages playing in our heads, from long ago.

    Listen to parents talking to young children. Often the message is less than approving.

    “Don’t put that in your mouth!”

    “Go wash your face right now.”

    “If you keep acting like that nobody will like you.”

    “Look at Cindy, how well she’s doing. If you worked harder you could do as well as her.”

    Those examples are kind compared to what many people will have heard growing up.

    Many of these messages enter our brains before our conscious memories are fully formed. They may be buried somewhere in our minds, but they are real.

    Of course, parents have to train young children. That’s part of their job. But not all parents balance their criticism with approval.

    So, we often grow up anxious for approval, uncertain of our own worth, always feeling that there’s something fundamentally wrong with us, perhaps feeling more or less unlovable.

    This self-critical stance interferes with the warm, loving, mutually accepting, and deeply satisfying relationships we crave all through life.

    Are relationships really that important? The Harvard Study of Adult Development followed people for as long as seventy years. Some thrived, some sank.

    What was the common factor among those who flourished for decades, in every way? Warm, supportive relationships.

    I sucked at relationships as a child. I don’t mean romantic relationships, just friendships. I was the awkward kid who got left out of playground games.

    Yet, there was a part of my life that was quite different. It was full of love and joy.

    Let me tell you about Jolly.

    Jolly was about two feet tall, hairy, with patches of brown, black, and white. For me, it was love at first sight. He was bouncing around frantically, his tail wagging so furiously that it might have fallen off.

    I pestered my parents until they agreed to get him for me.

    In no time at all, I was experiencing why dogs are called our best friends. Jolly was completely in love with me, judging by his behavior.

    If the day had been particularly frustrating for me, Jolly didn’t care. He’d jump on me as soon as I came in the door, tail wagging at dangerous speeds, squealing with delight, trying to lick my face, running up and down the room before repeating the performance, barking with joy, inviting me to play with him.

    Sometimes a teacher would tell me off in school.

    Jolly didn’t care. To him, I was still the most wonderful person in the world. He would still burst with joy when I got home, bury me in licks, desperate for me to play with him.

    Sometimes I would return feeling really low because other kids had been particularly nasty to me.

    Jolly would still jump on me when I opened the door. He would still wag that tail dangerously fast. If he could talk, I believe he would be spewing out love poetry to rival Shakespeare.

    I didn’t even have to go out of the house for him to find me fascinating and totally lovable. It was enough if I went to the next room and came back. He would still be almost bursting out of his skin with joy at seeing me again.

    It was as if he could see something in me that I could not see for myself.

    However, it took me decades to digest and fully accept the lesson that Jolly was teaching me.

    Medical school taught me the neurological pathways and brain areas that are active during criticism, but I didn’t fully embrace Jolly’s message until some decades later.

    For many parents, and for the world, success in life is something that happens in the future of a child. The child grinds out one day after another, chasing that distant glimmer of success.

    The child becomes a young adult, and still they’re chasing that distant success. Work hours are long, relationships suffer, tempers are short, nerves are frayed, emotions run high. Still, success remains like a finishing line that’s continually moving away.

    The young adult grows toward middle age, perhaps with children by now, and still they’re chasing success. For themselves and now for their children too.

    No matter how much they’ve accumulated, there’s always the possibility of accumulating more. Keeping up with the Joneses is an endless game. At the root of it all is the little child’s longing for approval.

    “They’ll discover I’m a fraud.”

    “If they really knew me they wouldn’t like me.”

    “If only I could get that next promotion or close that big sale, people would start respecting me more.”

    “If only I did better, I would become truly lovable.”

    Scratch under the surface, and there might well be a self-critical little child longing for acceptance.

    We experience the stresses and strains of life as burdens that drag us down.

    We get annoyed at ourselves for not doing better.

    We beat ourselves up for experiencing difficult or unpleasant emotions.

    We’re hooked on self-help books and programs because we’re anxious about our flaws.

    We long to be rid of our flaws and imperfections, because we believe that will make us more lovable.

    What would Jolly say?

    “I don’t care. Yes, you need to lose thirty pounds, but right now I love you and want you to know that you are completely worthy of my love.”

    “Yes, you could do with twice as much money and a much bigger house, but right now you are already totally lovable.”

    “Yes, you could do with fewer of those low moods, less anxiety and less anger, but right now you are already worthy of honor and respect.”

    “Yes, you’ve had some messy relationships and screwed up in many ways but right now you are totally worthy of love.”

    The more I learned to accept myself with all my flaws and imperfections, the more relaxed I became about difficult emotions and setbacks in life.

    The more accepting I became of my own imperfections, the more accepting and loving I became toward others.

    The more accepting and loving I became toward others, the more they responded with warmth.

    The child that was left out on the playground is now a much more self-accepting person despite his flaws, often a source of love, comfort, laughter, and joy to others. That is fertile soil for warm, supportive relationships.

    Supportive relationships, as research has found, are the key to wellbeing now and for decades to come. They help keep your body and brain working well for longer.

    At our core, we’re a mess and we’re always falling short of our aspirations. That’s part of being human. It’s okay.

    Jolly would want you to know that you are totally lovable, regardless.

  • Accept Yourself Unconditionally (Even When You’re Struggling)

    Accept Yourself Unconditionally (Even When You’re Struggling)

    “Self-acceptance is my refusal to be in an adversarial relationship with myself.” ~Nathaniel Branden

    Have you ever thought that you accepted yourself fully, only to realize there were conditions placed upon that acceptance?

    There was a point in my life when I realized I had stopped making tangible progress with my emotions, self-esteem, and habits. I’d made some profoundly positive shifts that remained with me, like eating healthier, practicing yoga, and phasing out negative friends. You could say I was “cleaning house” in a sense—getting clear on what I wanted my life to look like and discarding the rest.

    I began my first truly healthy relationship in years, had a small freelance business that was thriving, and even became a certified yoga teacher. I was no longer a slave to self-doubt and social anxiety like I was in college. However, I didn’t feel like I could vulnerably bare all like other yoga teachers seemed to do so effortlessly.

    I was still experiencing some of the same old negative feelings I always had, like dreading social situations and feeling somehow “behind” in life despite all my progress.

    I would still slip into self-sabotaging thoughts, mentally talking down to myself when I didn’t teach perfectly. I would still compare myself to other women my age, coming up with stories as to why they were “better” or “further ahead” than I was.

    Despite knowing how critical it was to stop doing this, the sense of self-doubt seemed overwhelming and inevitable at times. Upon realizing that these issues were still present, I promptly abandoned myself. Rather than practicing self-care, I “relapsed” into shame. I was ashamed of feeling shame.

    “I’m a yoga teacher. I’m not allowed to get in these moods anymore. I should not still struggle with these feelings,” I thought.

    During this period, I dwelled hard. I didn’t reach out to anyone. I felt a nauseating fear in the pit of my stomach that made me want to give up on everything. The light at the end of the tunnel had all but flickered out. Convinced that I was alone in these feelings, I stubbornly forgot that other people went through these same emotions all the time.

    “I’m not normal. I’ve learned nothing after all this time. I’m foolish and completely hopeless. Who would even want to be around someone like me?”

    These may seem like words from the journal of a severely depressed, or maybe even suicidal person. When you read these words you might think, “Eek. I can’t believe she shared that publicly!” Or you might wince and turn away in discomfort, briefly recalling your own dark and “ugly” thoughts. But in truth, these are just two of the sentences I spewed out into a Word document on a particularly bad day.

    I no longer buy in to the belief that these kinds of thoughts make me “bad” or a “failure” as a teacher. Years ago, I wouldn’t have admitted to such heavy thoughts. However, I’ve learned not to restrict myself when I’m venting onto a blank page. I dig deep into the negativity I feel, because if I don’t, I truly don’t know what emotions lie beneath the surface—or why they exist.

    Writer Flannery O’Connor once said, “I write because I don’t know what I think until I read what I say.” I know this is true for me, and I’m sure it probably applies to many of us. Sometimes we don’t really know how we feel until we start expressing it, whether it’s through writing or speaking. We can surprise ourselves with beliefs and emotions we didn’t know existed within us.

    This practice of exploring the darker thoughts led me to the realization that I still wasn’t completely showing up for myself. In other words, I needed to consciously support myself and engage in positive self-talk more often.

    As a self-proclaimed self-aware person, this realization initially caught me off guard. I thought I knew myself inside and out. But as shadow work practitioners would say, nobody really knows their shadow—not until it is carefully lured out into the light.

    It takes time, effort, courage, and brutal honesty to get acquainted with your darker emotions. Our instinct is to run, but we need to dedicate ourselves to our shadows rather than condemning them.

    Whether you work through heavy feelings in a blank Word doc like me or with a trusted friend or coach, it’s important to stop shying away from the “ugly” stuff, like anger, jealousy, fear, and judgment.

    These things shouldn’t be off limits. Furthermore, these things don’t make you bad, they don’t make you worthless, and they don’t mean you’re crazy. They are simply the heavier, unacknowledged sensations waiting to be heard and healed—waiting for their moment in the spotlight.

    In addition, it’s crucial to realize that this self-awareness process never ends. You will never get rid of all the negative you experience, and frankly, wouldn’t life be boring if you did?

    Dark emotions rise up not so we can feel ashamed, but so we can integrate them and forgive ourselves. This process is the foundation of healing, self-care, and self-acceptance.

    A good way to tell if you are conditionally or unconditionally accepting of yourself is to look at your expectations and attitudes.

    • Do you only cheer yourself on when you feel positive and/or accomplish external goals?
    • Are you “allowed” to have an off day or an unproductive week without lapsing into self-judgment and self-loathing?
    • Do you stand up for yourself when others discourage you?
    • Do you give yourself the benefit of the doubt in difficult or confusing times?

    Answering these questions will reveal if you accept yourself only conditionally. Conditional acceptance means you only love yourself when you’re performing well. (Spoiler alert: In this case, it’s the achievements you love rather than your actual self.)

    This is an incredibly easy trap to fall into, especially in the beginning of any self-acceptance journey. For many of us, self-acceptance is a foreign path that we only embark on after years of self-rejection. A lot of the things you must allow yourself to do will seem counter-intuitive, like expressing dark thoughts or letting yourself surrender to pain rather than fighting it.

    So, what can you do if conditional self-acceptance is the only kind you know how to practice?

    For one, don’t berate yourself for it! Any berating or negative judgment just keeps you in the vicious cycle. Think about it: Yelling at yourself for yelling at yourself? Not effective.

    Secondly, admit to any feelings that oppose unconditional self-acceptance. Don’t deny them or refuse to look at them. Instead, explore them. Let them coexist with the positive stuff until they have taught you whatever they needed to teach you.

    And lastly, incorporate self-care when it is easy. When your mood is light and you are full of energy, use these periods to wholeheartedly implement self-care routines. I like to implement self-care through everyday sensory experiences, like lighting some incense, taking a hot shower when it’s cold, or taking the time to cook a really good healthy meal.

    The momentum of positive habits will make your lows less treacherous. Having that stable foundation of self-respect already built into your daily life will remind you that it’s ok to struggle.

    Struggle is temporary. Struggle makes you human. And it certainly doesn’t make you any less whole.

  • Self-Love Means Never Saying “You Complete Me”

    Self-Love Means Never Saying “You Complete Me”

    “You can search throughout the entire universe for someone who is more deserving of your love and affection than you are yourself, and that person is not to be found anywhere. You yourself, as much as anybody in the entire universe deserve your love and affection.” ~Buddha

    A popular topic in the glossy magazines, learning to “love yourself” always seemed to me to be a self-indulgent first-world pastime.

    It seemed obvious that the commonly-repeated mantra “love yourself first” was just a sign of the times in a world where something like half of all marriages end in divorce. When I dug a little deeper I often found either a list of new spa treatments or a litany of new age catchphrases.

    All meaningless—that is until a series of failed relationships taught me the hard way why you have to love yourself first.

    I had always walked into relationships from the standpoint of something I needed or wanted. I wanted to feel valued and loved. I needed to feel that my struggles had meaning, and I found this in external validation. I craved for someone to stand by me and tell me that I was worth it.

    In my extremely busy and fast-paced life, I was surrounded by people so very lonely, starved of meaningful connections in a world of transactional relationships. Always the alpha-male, I craved a safe space where I could lower my defenses and be affectionate. A relationship became my way of getting what I thought I needed.

    For a decade of my life, this didn’t go well, and it certainly didn’t end well. It ended with me on the floor of my living room surrounded by pills and full of suicidal thoughts. But, after I picked myself up, this and many other truths revealed themselves to me.

    A need arises from something we find missing in ourselves.

    We need someone to tell us we’re important because we don’t feel worthy to begin with.

    We feel lonely because our lives aren’t full, and we’re waiting for someone to fill them up.

    We so crave those affectionate and reassuring words from someone we care about because we don’t feel pretty, smart, promoted—or whatever—enough. If he or she is a good mate, our need is satiated. This is why “you complete me” became such a widely expressed notion of the power of love. Unfortunately, that sort of thinking leads to dangerous places.

    We aren’t “complete” to begin with because of the very thing(s) we feel we’re lacking, or the inadequacy of our being.

    We make ourselves as attractive, accommodating, or desirable as we can to cover up these faults and fool an eligible partner into looking past our shortcomings. Eventually, we win, and then the prize is ours. And they both lived happily ever after. Except that rarely happens because that void always needs to be filled.

    We’ve told ourselves the story of our lives and convinced ourselves of the short (or long) list of things our partner can give us that will make us happy at last. But somehow it’s never enough, and when we get it, we want more of it, or something else entirely. Our demands to be listened to or supported or valued somehow seem to increase over time.

    And maybe we even become resentful. After all, we need to keep our partner fooled into continuing to see past our inadequacies, so we “hustle” for love.

    We have put so much effort into making ourselves attractive to begin with, and it’s very difficult to ever let the mask slip, lest he or she find the truth and see us for who we are. It all takes so much effort, and maybe we begin to think “It’s his fault I feel this way.”

    This is where coming into love from a place of inadequacy leads. But, when we accept ourselves for who we are, when we recognize our flaws but do not doubt our worth, we don’t seek wholeness in another person. Perhaps we even work on our perceived flaws, but we recognize these as suboptimal behaviors, not something wrong with us.  We do bad, but we are not bad.

    It’s still totally natural and healthy to have a set of desirable characteristics when we seek out that someone and boundaries for acceptable behavior, but this is a matter of choice, not need.

    When we enter a relationship from a place of worthiness and self-acceptance, we don’t hold our partner accountable for our shortcomings or expect her to fix us. We can focus on joy—which is happiness from within—rather than expecting or demanding that the other person supply it from without.

    After all, when we expect our partner to supply stuff to us in order to make us happy, crudely put, he or she becomes our dealer. Though of course it’s a bit more emotionally complicated than that, we are in a sense using the other person to fulfill our own ends, and guess what? He or she is probably doing the same to us. It somehow works!

    And what does it mean to accept yourself wholly, warts and all? What is it to say: “Maybe I let my jealousy get the better of me sometimes, but my heart is in the right place, and I don’t need anyone to prove that to me”?

    How is it that someone can say, “I’m responsible for my own happiness, and I want so very much to share that with another person”? That is loving yourself first, and that love has to stem from a deep place of worthiness.

    Love is many things, but one of them is total acceptance with no barriers. If we can’t feel that way toward ourselves, then how can we feel that way with someone else? What we do not accept about ourselves, we do not reveal to someone else.

    Love is also the most highly evolved, pristine form of connection, and connection is what gives meaning to people’s lives. This then leads to the false assumption that we need to be given love by other people in order to feel whole.

    In fact, the reverse is true. When we feel whole, we are able to love other people, and that is how we connect.

    This took so many years and so much heartache for me to figure out. When I looked back on all those failed relationships, though I typically still felt justified in some of the grievances I had, I took responsibility for the fact that it never would have worked out as long as I was seeking validation from another person.

    It would be nice and neat for me to say that now, possessed of this understanding, I found the one and am in the midst of my happily-ever-after. That’s actually far from the case! But, what I can say is that I’ve been in a couple of relationships since, and although their endings hurt, they in no way destroyed me or shook me to my core the way they had previously.

    Never again did I doubt if I was worthy of that kind of happiness or having those kinds of boundaries of self-respect. The grieving process happened, but it ended, and I remained who I was.

    To love myself first is to never have to say “you complete me” again, because I am complete just the way I am. It is to stop hustling for love and allowing myself to be loved. Far from being self-indulgent, it is such a humbling feeling, and it will set you free.

  • The Truth Behind Judging Others and Why We Do It

    The Truth Behind Judging Others and Why We Do It

    “Judging is preventing us from understanding a new truth. Free yourself from the rules of old judgments and create the space for new understanding.” ~Steve Maraboli

    For a long time, I was a judgmental person. I would look at other people walking along the street—who had no idea I was even paying them any attention—and make all kinds of comments based on their appearance, their dress sense, the way they talk, walk, their weight—anything that took my fancy.

    “She shouldn’t be wearing that skirt—it’s too short.”

    “She should focus on losing weight, not scarfing down that bar of chocolate.”

    “Her hair’s such a mess. Why doesn’t she comb it or something?”

    The list of secret and harsh criticism was endless, but I didn’t think I was doing any harm. They didn’t know what I was saying about them, and I’m sure some of them would have had a few choice words to say about me, had they found out.

    That may have been true, but what was the reason behind my unnecessary tearing down of these other people? It’s not as if they had done anything to me. They were simply going about their own business.

    I didn’t think about why I was doing it. If you asked me at the time, I would have answered something along the lines of “because they should/shouldn’t be doing ‘that thing.’ ” I thought I was perfectly within my rights to make judgments about them and think exactly what I wanted to think.

    And yes, up until today, I still think whatever I want—I’m entitled to have my own opinions after all, but I’m making more of a conscious effort not to be so unkind about people who do things differently. Truth be told, I’m human, so it’s not always the easiest thing in the world, but making that decision has given me a freedom I never expected.

    Back then, after all the judgment and cruel comments flowed effortlessly from my mouth while I was out and about, I would go back to the comfort of my home. Only, as comfortable as I felt inside the safety of my own home, there was a distinct level of discomfort I felt within myself.

    Watching TV, I would see women that I thought were beautiful, smart, or simply doing well in life, and the comparing would start. All of a sudden, I was stupid or ugly or failing miserably at being a woman and a mum more than ever.

    When looking at myself in the mirror, I would see my entire body covered in unwanted imperfections: the wobbly thighs, the seemingly endless stretch marks, the not-flat-enough stomach, and the butt that was becoming closer and closer friends with gravity.

    I disliked myself on a major scale. I didn’t think I was good enough, and as harsh as I was to the people out there on the street, I was exactly the same to myself.

    I was unkind and cruel and I mentally beat myself up every single day. The only difference between what I said about people and what I regularly said about myself was that I could hear it—there was no escape.

    It took many years to finally reach a point in my life where I could be honest about the reason I was choosing to be so mean. It was a hard pill to swallow, which is often the case when it comes to the truth. I wanted to ignore it and I tried my hardest but once I came to the realization, I had no other choice but to accept it.

    Putting other people down made me feel better about myself.

    “If I were that size, I would exercise every day.”

    “If I had legs like that, I’d wear trousers.”

    “I wouldn’t step out the house with such messy hair…”

    By making them wrong for being who they were, I somehow gave myself a temporary boost—a feeling of being okay—because I apparently knew what the correct behavior was to undertake in each of their situations and they didn’t have a clue.

    In those moments, I became everything I thought I wasn’t: clever, a great mother, a beautiful woman. I couldn’t see or feel those qualities within myself, so I had to use what I considered another person’s faults as the way to reach a point where I could give myself permission to briefly bask in the qualities I thought were lacking.

    From then on, every time a thought about someone entered my mind, I would immediately go to work drowning out the words with lots of pleasant thoughts about that person instead. I no longer wanted to be that other kind of person; I wanted to enjoy being me and know I had lots of great qualities without having to latch onto what I perceived as something bad in others.

    But that proved to be mentally exhausting. There were so many thoughts flying in that I thought I’d never stop being that person after all. I was so used to making ongoing comments about other people that it’s as if a tap had been turned on and it was now stuck.

    But I wasn’t going to give in. I wasn’t prepared to continue as normal now that I could clearly see the reasons behind my behavior, so I changed my approach.

    I started to let the thoughts come in and pass as best I could. I purposely paid them little to no attention. This immediately felt easier—no trying to swap them quickly with something else, no fighting, no resisting…

    And that’s when I felt the unexpected benefit of freedom, a newly formed space in my mind that wasn’t being taken up with unfair comments. By not holding on to those thoughts, I believed them less and less and in turn, I was able to accept what I saw in front of me—another person living their life in the best way they could in that moment.

    If they’re getting on with their life and doing no harm, then let them be. They are who they are and I am who I am. That doesn’t mean I feel this way every time. There are some days where I hold on to those thoughts like they’re the last ones I’ll ever have—until I catch myself days later.

    So no, it’s not all rainbows, unicorns, sunshine, and flowers all day, every day.

    The most important thing is that in the moments when I become aware that I’m holding on to unkind thoughts about someone a bit too much, I understand that it’s not really about them, it’s about me and the way I’m feeling about myself.

    And that acts as my reminder to get and stay on my side so that I can continue to see the best in who I am.

    If you ever find yourself being overly critical about someone—especially someone you don’t know—ask yourself why you feel the need. What’s stopping you from accepting a person exactly as they are?

    We certainly need to be discerning, for example, between right and wrong, but is it otherwise fair to make people wrong for being different than us or not living their lives in accordance with our ideals?

    The more we give a person space to be who they are, the more we give ourselves permission to be who we are.

  • How to Start Loving the Parts of Yourself You Don’t Like

    How to Start Loving the Parts of Yourself You Don’t Like

    Love yourself

    “To be beautiful means to be yourself. You don’t need to be accepted by others. You need to accept yourself.” ~Thich Nhat Hanh

    The sun was breaking into my living room as I was sitting at my dining table, viewing a video that I had just recorded for my Facebook group. It was the first one I took, two minutes long, and there were ten more waiting to be recorded.

    I had just pressed the play button to see how I look and sounded, and boy, was I in for a surprise.

    I kid you not, I felt like I was watching Gargamel from The Smurfs and not me. The only thing I could see, over the entire screen, was my big, bumpy nose. The bump was distracting enough that I literally didn’t hear a word I said.

    All I could hear was my inner voice, loudly ranting, “Oh my goodness, look at that nose! Do I really look like that?! This is horrible! Hideous! I can’t look like that in all of my videos, I just can’t! Eeww!!” I was shocked.

    I snapped out of it and thought, “I need to fix this!”

    I marched straight to my bathroom, took out my makeup bag, and started searching though my eyeshadows and foundations like a maniac.

    I had never tried contouring in my life. I had seen only two video tutorials, and thought “damn, that’s a lot of work,” but this was obviously one of those “there’s a first time for everything” moments.

    Trying to remember how to do it, I took some light shades, some dark ones, and started applying. Put a little here, a bit there, and after ten minutes of playing around… Mamma MIA! Will you look at that? I fixed my nose. I am A GENIUS!   

    I proudly cat walked into my living room, sat down in front of that blinking camera, and recorded a new video with my new, straight, slim nose.

    It looked fantastic while I was recording. Then I pressed play to watch the video and was in for another surprise.

    Again, I didn’t hear a word I said in that video. Then, anger took me over. I was disappointed in myself.

    My inner voice kicked in again, louder than before: “This is not you. This is not the person I know. It’s a nice nose, but… Where am I? This is not me. And what’s next, are you gonna fix your lips for the next video so they look bigger?”

    I didn’t care about my nose anymore. I didn’t care about the perfect lines, nor the perfect lighting. The only thing I could think was that I’m someone who encourages others to practice self-love, and yet here I was, in shame, trying to camouflage the part I didn’t like just so I could feel better.

    This isn’t loving yourself. This isn’t embracing all parts of yourself. This isn’t living authentically. 

    I pressed stop and thought “Scr*w this!” Then I went to the bathroom and cleaned my face with the biggest grin on. Seeing the real me in the mirror, I felt pride because I could be me. Freely.

    I calmly walked into my living room one last time and recorded the most honest, openhearted, all natural video. Me and my bumpy nose. I posted it straight away—the first take. No editing, no pimping. And the responses I got from them were beautiful.

    I think a lot of us feel the way I did way too often, which is why I want to share with you what I shared with them: How to turn the parts you don’t like about yourself into your most beloved ones. How to love and accept them.

    On days when you feel like this, here’s what you can do to feel better and more loving.

    1. Realize that you took the wrong turn.

    My reaction came from the urge to hide my imperfection. I felt ashamed of how I looked and I wanted to cover it.

    I wanted to look prettier, but not because I felt the need, like we all do, to feel great or look amazing for some special occasion.

    Had my desire to put on makeup come from me wanting to emphasize my gifts, look a bit different, and play with my beauty, I would be okay with that.

    But that wasn’t the case. I rejected myself. I told myself I was hideous. I wanted to be fixed. Like I was broken and there was something wrong with me. This wasn’t the first time I did this.

    For a long time, I was ashamed because I “felt too much.” People constantly told me, “Oh, you and your emotions! You’re such a cry baby!”

    It took me a while to accept that part of me, to accept that I am highly emotional. Today I can say I simply love my emotions, good and bad. I made them my number one guiding system through life. They always tell me if something’s right or wrong for me and always help me to make right choices and decisions.

    We can feel such shame. But for what? What good does it bring us?

    If you come from the place of “there’s something wrong with me,” know that it’s a sign you took a wrong turn—you turned to shaming and blaming yourself.

    Realize that there is nothing wrong with you. We all feel like there is once in a while.

    Befriend yourself with the thought that we are all perfect just as we are, with our imperfections. Some imperfections we accept, and some we use as opportunities to grow. My nose or wild mood swings, your smile or silly quirks, her lips, his chin, our fears, our dreams—it’s all as it should be. Unique and perfect in their imperfection.

    2. Hear the words you say to yourself.

    It amazes me how mean we can be to ourselves. The words we say in our minds can be the cruellest. Would you ever tell a friend (or anyone, actually) “OMG, look at you! You look horrible! You are hideous!”?

    You wouldn’t, would you?

    If your friend was feeling ugly that day, you would probably remind her how amazing she is, tell her that her beauty is way deeper than her skin, and that you adore exactly the parts of her that she didn’t like (just like my closest friend told me “I love your nose!” right after she saw my video). Because this is how you talk to your loved ones.

    So, why don’t you try talking to yourself the same way—like you’d talk to a loved one?

    Look in the mirror and say something like, “I am aware that you feel ugly/stupid/alone/(insert your own) today. So sorry to hear that. You remember that day when you were glowing, and felt so good, even your friends told you, ‘What’s up with you today, you are shining!’ That’s you as well. Know that you are beautiful inside and out, whether you feel it today or not. I love you nonetheless.”

    Go on, give it a try.

    Because how you feel comes from what you say to yourself.

    Start practicing kind conversations with yourself. You are a kind person, I’m sure, so I bet there are a lot of loving things you could say to yourself.

    3. Know that it’s okay to have good and bad days.

    Some days, when you catch a reflection of yourself, your first thought is going to be “Oh, hello there good looking!!” And you’ll smile, maybe even wink.

    But on some days, you will wake up in the morning, look at your reflection, and say “Awful!”

    Both of these days are perfectly okay.

    We can’t be 100% self-loving and self-accepting every day of the year and every minute of our day. That’s life.

    Loving yourself is a continuous practice. It’s a way of living. It’s something that you cultivate every day. On days when you don’t like yourself, know that it’s just that—a moment when you don’t feel so good. It’s not the first time and it certainly won’t be the last time.

    Instead of adding insults and making yourself feel even worse about it, acknowledge it and remind yourself that it will pass. Perhaps blow your reflection a kiss. A kiss always feels nice.

    Trust that it will pass. Because now you’re practicing kindness and self-love (loving all parts of you). You’re working on it. You got this.

    4. Decide that it’s a matter of a choice.

    When we reject a part of ourselves, we deepen that sense of unworthiness. Every time you do this, you cut the wound deeper and fall further into a hole of self-loathing.

    I wasn’t going to let myself fall deeper down that hole.

    I looked at my imperfect self in the mirror and said, “Today I hated a part of me and it was my nose. Now, I choose to own, love, and accept that part of me. Today, I love and accept myself just as I am.”

    In that moment I felt immensely self-loving. I felt free from judgments and self-criticism.

    Some days I don’t feel that way. I say these words and I don’t feel that instant rush of love. It might happen to you as well. And that’s okay.

    On days like those, you can say: “Now, I am willing to try to accept and love that part, too. I am willing to try to accept and love myself just as I am.”

    —

    I hope my story and this post will inspire you to start looking at the parts of yourself you don’t like in a different light—not to push and hide them away, or be ashamed of them, but to completely love and accept them. For I am most sure they are the parts that make you lovable exactly as you are.

    Which parts are you willing to own, love, and accept today?

  • How to Rock Your Scars (Because They Mean You’re Strong)

    How to Rock Your Scars (Because They Mean You’re Strong)

    Scarred heart

    “Never be ashamed of a scar. It simply means you were stronger than whatever tried to hurt you.” ~Unknown

    “It’s such an ugly scar, I really don’t want anyone to see it.” This is what I told my daughter about a scar on my leg from an accident I’d experienced a year earlier.

    I can remember the day so clearly when I slipped and fell, while skating, breaking my ankle and tearing a ligament. It was a painful experience with a long recovery. But I also felt embarrassed because I got injured during such a simple and fun activity.

    I often wondered why this happened to me. One minute I was out enjoying quality time with my daughter and after the next minute I couldn’t walk for twelve weeks. I wanted to be present for her. I wanted to be active. I wanted to be involved. I wanted to be a good mother. I wondered if maybe I was overcompensating for the time I was busy keeping up with my work.

    I became so entangled in my thoughts, wondering where I went wrong and why this was happening now.

    After all was healed, I had a long scar from two surgeries. While I was happy to be up and on the move again, I was self-conscious about the five-inch mark on my ankle and leg area, along with the indentations in my skin from where the medal plate and screws were underneath.

    I thought this scar was unattractive, and it was an awful reminder of my journey to healing. I knew with the warmer weather quickly approaching that I’d want to hide it.

    I had it all planned out: I’d wear super long dresses, skirts, and pants. No one would need to stare my scar or ask me what happened. I wouldn’t have to wonder if anyone was looking at it, because I’d already taken care of that with my clothing.

    One day my eleven-year-old daughter and I were discussing summer fashion and girl talk in general. I shared my well mapped out plan to hide my scar with my clothes. Before I could finish, she quickly replied, “Why don’t you want to wear your dresses, Mommy? Why are you hiding your scar?”

    I pondered for a moment, then offered a simple response that I just didn’t like the way it looked. What she said next caught me off guard and made me teary eyed.

    She said, with conviction, “Mommy, your scar shows that you made it! It shows that you are no longer in that same place as you were before, that you overcame it. You should be proud to show that scar, Mommy, because you bounced back! That’s your ‘I made it scar.’ ”

    I was so blown away by her response and her unknowing insight into resilience.

    As parents we share much of what we know with our children to help guide them through their everyday experiences. But there are those unscripted moments when our children’s perspectives provide us with insight into how to move forward.

    Here are the lessons of self-acceptance and resilience my daughter taught me that can help you:

    Don’t Hide Your Scars

    We’ve all been through challenging situations, setbacks, disappointments, or heartbreak, and these experiences can leave a painful residue based on how we allow ourselves to heal.

    Once you make it through the healing process, sharing the lessons with others will provide a sense of empowerment for you and to those you share it with. Your “scars” or challenging experiences have a unique story of resilience, and to tell it sends a continuous chain of healing to all you interact with.

    Keeping it hidden reinforces a stigma of non-acceptance of all parts of your journey in life. If you reject these experiences, you’ll feel compelled to bottle these emotions within. That’s what I did after I left a job that, at the time, caused a great amount of stress and wasn’t beneficial for me as a parent.

    At first, I felt embarrassed to share with others, because I always saw myself as competent, fitting in anywhere and always able to get the job done. I felt defeated because I was unable to meet the demands of my role. I felt bad that I somehow couldn’t “cut it” and didn’t measure up.

    It was hurtful since I’d given everything I had, even at times pushing aside my priorities as a parent, and it still didn’t work out. So, I wanted to keep this “failure” quiet and move right along.

    However, when I began sharing my experience of trying to balance the unrealistic expectations of a big corporate organization and being a present parent, I heard stories from other women who could relate.

    This was when I realized the power of sharing my story. In talking about it I felt less ashamed, and that’s when the healing began, along with gaining a sense of empowerment.

    Try to put a spin on those tough challenges so they don’t hinder your growth and progress. Share your feelings and story with a close friend, and if you’re comfortable enough, with others as well.

    If you’re uncomfortable speaking about it, then write it down in a journal. Getting your feelings out will help purge your mind of overwhelming thoughts and cleanse your heart of the pain.

    Your Challenges Can Propel You Forward 

    This challenging experience may have been rough, but it can also be the thing you need to get you moving outside of your comfort zone and into a new direction. Sometimes those unexpected setbacks build up the “muscles” that were once hidden within us due to fear or complacency. Now you’ve experienced your fears and you see that you’ve made it.

    For example, maybe one of your worst fears is to lose your job and not being financially secure. If you’ve been laid off or fired, while this is hurtful to your self-esteem and brings about uncertainty, it may be an opportunity in disguise.

    Perhaps this is your chance to go full throttle in starting the business you’ve always wanted, or maybe this is the push you need to get you to go back to school, or into the true field you desire to work in. It might even be a much-needed opportunity to take it easy and take better care of yourself.

    Take time to process the lessons you’ve learned from this situation. Use them to help you regroup, refocus, and move ahead. What you were once afraid of is now a thing of the past.

    Use your setback as a stepping stone to a new transformation in your life.

    Be Gentle and Less Critical of Yourself and Your Journey

    You may have gone through or are currently going through a tough time and you’re having thoughts about feeling “dumb,” feeling less than or not being able to cut it.  While these thoughts are normal, spending time dwelling on them will never help you feel better and learn the lessons.

    Stop beating yourself up. Offer yourself and your past forgiveness in order to set yourself free from the pain.

    Giving so much life and emphasis to what those things mean about you is taking away from living out this one life of yours. Recognize the lessons and be kind to yourself so you can begin the next chapter of your life.

    Surround Yourself with Resilient People 

    We spend so much time in our own heads pondering questions like “Why did this happened to me?” “What did I do wrong?” Indulging the “what if” questions will cause intense overwhelm and keep you stuck in your thoughts.

    Surround yourself with resilient people who will listen to you, offer you encouragement, and help you find that spark you need to move forward. My daughter was a calming peace to my anxiety around my scars. While she shared a dose of encouragement, she unknowingly provided me with enough space to think about what she said, which gave me the ability to identify my next step for moving ahead.

    A gentle spirit with words of wisdom was the catalyst for me to think differently about my situation.

    —

    Life is not meant to be lived hidden. The entire fabric of who you are is what makes your story unique and rich with wisdom. I once was afraid and ashamed to share those lessons of setbacks and hurt, fearing judgment and rejection. But I’ve found even more strength and humanness in sharing those stories, as they are part of who I am and it’s not necessary to hide that anymore.

  • If Self-Love Seems Difficult, Start with Self-Like

    If Self-Love Seems Difficult, Start with Self-Like

    “It’s not your job to like me. It’s mine.” ~Byron Katie

    Self-love is a word that gets used a lot. Overused, in fact.

    The pressures and associations around the phrase “self-love” are immense. At school, we actually tore apart girls who loved themselves, as if it was such a bad thing. As teenagers, we saw self-love as big headed and arrogant.

    If only we knew the harm that we were doing, not just to others but most of all to ourselves.

    So how about we begin with self-like?

    I definitely felt that I had to try to get people to like me when I was growing up. I wanted to fit in, I definitely didn’t want to embrace my individuality; all I wanted was acceptance.

    But I now understand that those desperate attempts to make others like, and love me, were actually a reflection of what I needed to learn for myself.

    Fast forward to over a decade later and this constant struggle appears to have reached a crunch point. My inability to love myself has caused huge problems in my relationships, both with myself and with the people I care about.

    I can’t even begin to think about practicing self-love, because in all honesty, I struggle quite a lot of the time to even self-like. The pressure of consistent self-love is way too much for me to handle right now.

    How am I expected to really truly love myself unconditionally? Love my wobbly bits, love my dark thoughts, love the fact that I sweat profusely during every type of exercise, love the times when I eat a bar of chocolate, just to get an instant hit of pleasure, love the fact that at times I can be a real scaredy cat?

    How am I supposed to do all of this when a lot of the times I can’t even like these parts of me?

    And so the self-like process must begin.

    Take Self-Love Away

    If you are in a place of self-loathing and self-hatred right now, take self-love off the table altogether. Don’t pressure yourself into unconditional love, because the very fact you can’t force it upon yourself will only frustrate and hurt you more.

    If you put too much emphasis on love right now, you will simply end up suppressing the intense resistance that comes up and burying it deep within, only for it to rear its ugly head at a later date. Liking you right now feels a little more attainable than love.

    Add in Self-Care

    For a long time I thought that by doing things that fell into the self-care category, I was showing myself love. It was, in fact, a very important first step, but I deluded myself into believing that self-care was the same as self-love.

    Self-care is vital because it helps you to start believing in your own worth. But it is far easier than self-like or self-love, which makes it a great place to start.

    By starting to implement self-care practices—such as eating well, taking time to exercise, booking yourself a massage, and looking after your appearance—you are giving yourself the amazing signals that you are worth it.

    Begin to Implement Self-Acceptance

    Accepting where we are right now is absolutely imperative in our quest for self-like. And that doesn’t mean when you get your ideal job/dream body/loving partner/lottery win. It has to happen in this very moment.

    If you don’t accept yourself now, you still won’t accept yourself when you do get the ideal job/dream body/loving partner/lottery win.

    I am the biggest I have ever been in my life. I look back at photos and pine for the body shape I once had; however, I didn’t love myself then either. So I realize that the solution is not in a dress size but in accepting and liking myself no matter what I look like.

    Accepting that where you are right now is okay is incredibly powerful and an integral part of learning to like yourself. You don’t have to love where you are; you just have to be okay with it as a starting point.

    That doesn’t mean you have to stop striving for more in your life. But if you can like the place you are in now, then you are far more likely to love the way your life evolves.

    Embracing Your Darkness

    Unconditional self-like comes from embracing your darkness as well as your light. That means your fears, your worries, your doubts, your body shape, yes, even the things that disgust and disappoint you about yourself. They may not be pretty, but they are part of you.

    We can’t simply banish these feelings away and shower them with positive affirmations. We can’t hide away and use avoidance tactics in the hope that they will go away. But we can accept them and start to gently tweak the pattern of thoughts that come up.

    Create Purpose

    When we feel on purpose, self-like becomes a lot easier. When we are living our lives in a way that satisfies and fulfills our creativity and our wishes, then we can begin to like our life from the inside and the outside.

    Think about the things that you enjoy doing. What brings you joy and makes you feel fulfilled? You don’t have to know what your life purpose is right now. Just by allowing yourself the chance to implement more of these things into your daily routine, you might start to really like that life.

    Self-like can start with the tiniest of steps—simply admitting to yourself that you have done a good job, or that there is even just one part of your body that you like. It isn’t an overnight transformation, but I do believe that it is the very first step toward learning self-love.

    Can you be brave and find just one thing to like about yourself right now?

  • Why We Don’t Need to Be Like Anybody Else

    Why We Don’t Need to Be Like Anybody Else

    Man Looking in Mirror

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

    When I first committed to becoming more spiritual, I decided that I wanted to be ‘perfect.’ I avoided red meat, cheese, alcohol, and sugar (and anything else that was considered “low vibration”), and ate organic food.

    I never complained or uttered a negative word about anything or anyone. I meditated three to four times a day, when I woke up, in the afternoon, and at night before I went to sleep.

    You’d never see an emotion on my face. I didn’t cry. I didn’t scream. And when I got angry, I quelled it like a storm that was forming in the distance that just didn’t have enough power.

    I was serenity incarnate. I did everything I thought that true spirituality was.

    And I fought and strained for my identity of perfection. This was how I was going to show up in the world.

    The truth was, I preferred eating healthy. But at times I wanted to eat chocolate chip cookies, brownies, and cheeseburgers and watch mind-numbing reality television. I wanted to cry, get mad, and just have a good rant. But I suppressed it all.

    While I was living in Los Angeles I went to a three-hour meditation event. I had no idea that it was going to change my entire life.

    I paid at the front desk, walked to the back of the Metaphysical center, took off my shoes, and entered the room.

    It smelled of sage and those instant light charcoals they burn in hookahs. There was a large copper triangle hanging from the ceiling. Pictures of chakras and angels hung on the walls. No music was playing, nor was anyone talking; all I heard was the shifting of people in their seats.

    There were three rows of semi-circle seats. I sat in the back row. Each chair had one sheet of paper with a prayer to create sacred space. I picked mine up, folded it in half, and placed it in my lap.

    I could feel my bare feet against the smooth carpet, the cold metal armrests against the forearms of my chair, and the remnants of sweat drying on my forehead.

    The first two rows were almost full by a group of people in their late twenties and early thirties dressed in loose fitting white clothing. They wore cotton, arm length V-necks. Their pants flowing, cuffs ending just below the ankle bone.

    A few minutes later, the workshop leader entered the room. He looked to be in his early thirties. From where I sat, no creases lined his eyes. He had chocolate brown hair that bounced as he walked, brown eyes, and olive skin.

    He also dressed in white, loose fitting clothes, with black mala beads hanging around his neck.

    Everyone in white greeted him. He smiled and greeted them.

    He introduced himself, thanked us for attending, and led a prayer to create sacred space. His voice seemed to echo off the walls. Despite everyone else saying the prayer, he was the only one I could hear.

    He asked everyone to sit down at the close of the prayer.

    He sat at the front center of the room in an armless metal chair with a black cushion and crossed his legs. The mala beads around his neck shifted and clicked as he got into position.

    The light from the ceiling seemed to shine down just right, illuminating the front of his face.

    When he spoke, it felt kind.

    He taught in stories and shared with us all of the places he’d traveled to and the lessons he’d learned along the way. He gave us mantras that we could use to bless the energy of a room and showed us ways that we could connect with our soul’s purpose.

    Almost every sentence he spoke contained wisdom or something deeply profound.

    My idea of ‘real spirituality’ and what I was working toward becoming was right in front of me.

    But…

    I felt a pang of sadness. I stared at him speaking, back straight in his chair, relaxed chin, and his hands rested, one-on-top of the other in his lap. He never said an, “um” or an “oh.” Everything he did seemed effortless.

    And the other people dressed in white (which I realized were his students) looked at him intently. No one spoke, looked at one another, or checked their phone. They all focused their attention on him.

    My eyes dropped, I sank in my chair, slouching. My head hunched over staring at my lap. I realized I would never be like him. I’d never reach his level of spiritual awareness and composure.

    But then it hit me.

    Suddenly, me eyes widened, my mouth parted slightly, I took a deep breath and I felt a knowingness come over me. In my sadness, I realized that I didn’t want to be like this man.

    It was absolutely impossible to attain his level of awareness because that was his unique expression in this world. I would never be like him because I wasn’t him, and he would never be like me, and that was the best part about it.

    I had my own awareness to attain, my own mark to make upon this world. I wasn’t going to accomplish it trying to be someone else or an idea of perfection. I just had to be me and the rest would fall into place.

    I sat straight up, neck straight, feet flat on the floor. I smiled, and then closed my eyes, knowing that I was absolutely perfect being myself. We all are. We just have to believe it and stop trying to be someone else.

    Man looking in mirror image via Shutterstock

  • How to Make Anxiety Work for You, Not Against You

    How to Make Anxiety Work for You, Not Against You

    Lonely Girl

    “Growth begins when we start to accept our own weakness.” 
~Jean Vanier

    I got fired from my job, my boyfriend left me, and my father died in one day.

    In reality, my career was going super well, I didn’t have a boyfriend, and my father was amazingly healthy, but what I did have was something I call an ultra amazing imagination, where I would make up fascinating stories about things that could happen and worry about them. (Or as other people call it, general anxiety disorder.)

    I met my now BFF anxiety when I was about ten years old. Initially, she wasn’t that much of a drag, except for casually letting me know that I should dread going to school on Mondays because something terrible was going to happen.

    I didn’t understand why she was telling me this.

    Rationally I knew it wasn’t true. I loved school. But I couldn’t get her words out of my mind. I tried explaining what was happening to my sweet and caring father, but the only words I could get out were: “Dad, I feel bad, and I don’t know why.”

    Anxiety took the liberty of moving into my room and accompanied me through my teenage years and twenties. She had black greasy hair that covered her face, and shrivelled, pale white skin that looked like it was starving for something. I just didn’t know what.

    The more I ignored her, the more she dug her dirt-filled, jagged nails deep into my bare skin.

    There was nothing I could do to escape her. I obviously couldn’t tell anyone. She assured me people wouldn’t understand.

    Besides, I had grown used to the feeling of having knots in my stomach every day and the sleepless, nightmare-filled nights. If I didn’t have these experiences anymore, who would I be?

    That’s until I turned thirty and had, well, as public speaker and shame researcher Brené Brown calls it, a spiritual awakening (a breakdown). I had reached breaking point and realized I couldn’t live the rest of my life like this.

    There had to be another way.

    I did all the typical things people do when they have a spiritual awakening.

    I journaled profusely, saw a psychologist, joined an eight-week mindfulness-based meditation class for people with anxiety and depression (I took the class three times), and learned something called Psych K to change my subconscious beliefs about myself.

    These things helped immensely. But what really changed the way I felt about anxiety was watching, wait for it, a teen, Hollywood, science fiction movie—Insurgent.

    (Warning, spoiler alert). There’s a scene in the movie where the main female character, Tris, has to pass a variety of simulations to escape a futuristic prison she’s been captured in.

    The particular simulation that changed my life shows twenty-something, short-haired Tris standing face to face with her beautiful clone, who’s embodied the anxious voices in her mind.

    She sees the clone running at her full force, trying to physically kill her. (If you’ve ever had major anxiety, a lot of the time, that’s what it feels like.)

    They duel it out, Matrix style, by flying around the room trying to attack each other, while smashing into thick glass windows.

    Her clone violently shouts out all the things Tris tries to avoid hearing such as: no one will forgive you and no one loves you. (I might have added the love part in, but hey, it adds to my point).

    Tris then stops fighting as she realizes she’s the only one who can accept her ego and says lovingly: “I will forgive you. I will love you.” The clone stops attacking her, the simulation dissolves, and she’s passed the test.

    After watching this scene I collapsed into what looked like a hunched over tree that had been hit by a storm. I burst into inconsolable tears, while my little white, fluffy dog looked at me with his head tilted as if to say: “What’s wrong, girl?”

    I thought about how all these years I’d been talking to myself like I was worthless. Every time I felt sadness or anxiety I berated myself further and emotionally smashed myself into the ground whenever I needed help.

    I was the one who had turned anxiety into some sort of creepy horror movie character, when really all she was, was a version of me who just wanted to be heard and loved.

    I decided that day to change anxiety’s name to “sweetheart.”

    Sweetheart and I get along really well now, and she’s so much happier too. She now has a rosy complexion; long, shiny black hair; and beautiful, glowing skin.

    When she feels worried, I tell her I am there for her, and she smiles. When she’s angry, I listen to what’s bothering her, and she relaxes.

    The most important thing is I give her attention when she wants it, and she thanks me and happily skips away to wherever she goes instead of torturing me. (I am assuming my mind has a virtual Starbucks where she hangs out, and it now offers coconut milk.)

    When you accept and love parts of yourself that you deem unacceptable, a strange thing happens. Those parts start working with you instead of against you.

    I don’t really look at anxiety the same way anymore. I look at it as an unbelievably creative imagination. (UCI is the medical term I give it.)

    If it’s used or channelled out of me through writing, I feel awesome, energized, and optimistic. If I don’t do anything with it, I catastrophize doom and gloom, feel exhausted, and see the worst in everything.

    I believe having UCI is a sign showing me my life calling, which is a career in story telling through writing and public speaking. I would never have figured this out unless I paid attention to the voice in my head.

    If you are currently struggling with UCI (aka anxiety), believe me, I understand how you feel and how dark things can get. But I also believe we are given certain traits or tests in life to teach us something and move us in a certain direction.

    Rather than seeing UCI as something that needs to be removed, think about the gifts it brings to your life and choose to see it differently.

    Now that I can see my anxiety as a gift, I know what I need to do to get back to inner peace, something I don’t think I’ve ever really been able to do.

    So go forth my friends, find the sweetheart of your mind, and listen to what she wants to tell you. You may be surprised at how cool and wise she really is…

    If that fails, watch Insurgent with your dog.

    Lonely girl image via Shutterstock

  • If You Want to Be Happy, Do This First

    If You Want to Be Happy, Do This First

    Happy woman smiling

    “When I had nothing to lose, I had everything. When I stopped being who I am, I found myself.” ~Paulo Coelho

    Someone once asked me if I was happy.

    The question confused me because it didn’t really seem like something I had a choice in.

    I had two parents and wonderful siblings who loved me deeply. I was smart, a good friend, and had opportunities many people throughout the world didn’t have. I never worried about being hungry or safe. What else was there?

    Unfortunately, growing up semi-privileged doesn’t prevent us from developing fears and insecurities.

    Though there was laughter and creativity in my early life, I was too busy deflecting judgments and attacks to feel okay in my own skin.

    People would tell me to smile, so I learned that something was wrong with me if I wasn’t smiling.

    Someone told me I had a big nose and hairy arms, so I discovered my body was not up to my peers’ high standards.

    I often felt misunderstood or unseen for who I really was.

    As I got older, I dated men who made me feel good about myself. They loved me, with my big nose and hairy arms. They also had just enough problems to keep me busy avoiding myself.

    Somewhere in midst of trying to show them they could be anything, I lost myself entirely.

    I didn’t actually feel comfortable in my own skin. I judged my words, my actions, and my thoughts constantly. I did the same with others. I was always trying to figure “it” out. I don’t think I even knew what “it” was back then. I do now.

    “It” was happiness. I wanted to figure out how I could stop running in place. The present moment was never enough for me.

    I was always going to be happy when I had a new roommate, my boyfriend changed, I signed up at a yoga studio, my Mom saw things my way, or I was making more money. The now, for me, was completely inadequate, and I was always reaching for some future event to make it better.

    Throughout my twenties, my life began to transform, but it was just two years ago when I hit the climax. Three things happened all at once:

    One, I fell in love with a man who showed me unconditional love; two, I became conscious of the fact that I was in relationships with people who were no longer serving me, and I left; and three, I discovered breathwork, the most powerful tool in my life.

    The first thing, unconditional love, gave me the safety to see the truth about myself.

    Because I was always in relationships with men who needed me to be there for them, I had developed a habit of hiding from my own needs. This relationship allowed me to feel safe so I could finally focus on myself with the support of someone who loved me deeply.

    The second thing, leaving unhealthy relationships, showed me I had the strength to choose what is best for me.

    There were clear signs that I was engaged with people who were manipulative and felt they knew what was better for me than I did. Walking away from relationships that I had put so much energy, trust, and love into was challenging, but ultimately liberating.

    And the third thing, finding breathwork, transformed my life in the deepest way possible. Breathwork was my tool to accept myself.

    At the time I couldn’t fathom how breathing could make any sort of significant change in my life, but this particular type of breathing was powerful. It helped me get out of my head and into my heart. It helped me see the truth about myself and life.

    Through a two-step deep breathing process in a safe and guided environment, I was able to release limiting beliefs and past traumas. Breathing deep into my belly and then into my chest, I was able to bring my awareness into my body.

    It’s a healing practice that has a life of its own and didn’t require me to do anything but breathe.

    Each time I practiced I felt myself let go a little more until I was grounded into a healthier relationship with myself and the people around me. On many occasions breathwork has helped me feel the emotions I was hiding from, see the truth about my life, and know that everything is perfect as it is.

    Because I was always in my head, I was a very analytical person, always seeing what was wrong and how I needed to fix it. When I learned to accept myself, I was finally able to relax and enjoy simply being.

    And through accepting myself I learned to love myself. Not all at once, but it happened gradually. It’s probably still happening. But the eyes I see myself through now are full of funky daisies and hand drawn roses. Way better than red pen edits and negative graffiti, let me tell you.

    I am happy.

    If you’re unsure if you’re happy I have to tell you, you’re not. Happiness, to me, is not a state. Sometimes I’m down. Sometimes I’m up. Happiness is my relationship to life.

    I am happy in my life. I am happy in my skin. I am happy with the body I have. I adore the people in my life. I am blessed. I am grateful.

    The hunt for happiness is exhausting. I was always trying—trying to be knowledgeable about one more thing, trying to do this better, trying to make my business more successful. Everything revolved around reaching.

    Now, I sit back. I smile. I can let life unfold without needing to control it. I can enjoy each moment for what it is.

    There is naivety around happiness and healing. There’s this idea that we shouldn’t get sad, that we should be able to cope with every situation perfectly, and that we are only going to go up from here. That hasn’t been my experience.

    I have days when I’m depressed. But I know my feelings are fleeting, so I can embrace them and let them be what they are.

    I have grown and learned tremendously about myself.

    I have been willing to answer the tough questions honestly.

    I have been willing to show up and see the truth of myself. That means times get hard. Sometimes I get a little lost. That’s why I have my practice. That’s why I have support.

    This is what life is. It’s up and it’s down. It’s high and it’s low. It’s happy and it’s sad. And I love it all.

    I can’t reject the bad because it’s part of life. I embrace it and accept it. I break through the stories and limiting beliefs and show myself love and compassion. And that is how I am happy.

    So, if you want to be happy do this first:
 be willing to see the truth of who you are right now.
 Release judgment and accept everything about who you are right now.
 Show compassion for the parts of yourself that are difficult to bear. Begin to show yourself love.

    Rinse and repeat.

    This life is far too precious to wait another moment to be happy.

    Happy woman smiling image via Shutterstock

  • How to Change Your Habits and Your Life in 5 Steps

    How to Change Your Habits and Your Life in 5 Steps

    Make the Change

    “If there is no struggle, there is no progress.” ~Frederick Douglass

    We all experience struggles. Some are seemingly insurmountable. Others, like mine, are comparatively small. Regardless of their scale, it’s what we learn from our struggles that counts.

    Mine began while at university in London. Originally from a small town in the Welsh valleys, the move to the big city was a scary one for me.

    A mum’s boy at heart, I didn’t deal well with being so far away from home. I’m also an introvert who didn’t embrace the uni lifestyle of drinking to failure, so I didn’t make many friends early on.

    The workload was tough too, and the course content didn’t inspire me one bit. I had never really considered what I wanted out of life, but I quickly discovered that rocks and complex math weren’t part it. Still, I pushed through, partly because I was stubborn but mainly because I was scared to fail.

    As I said, my struggles weren’t monumental. My first-world problems pale in comparison to others, but at the time it was hard to see past them. I felt trapped and stressed out.

    As a coping mechanism for the stress, I turned to my safe haven: sports. Martial arts, football, weight lifting—anything that allowed my brain to shut off temporarily.

    What started as an escape quickly became unhealthy. Training sometimes three times a day was only adding to the problem, and eventually things broke down.

    I started developing a mouthful of painful ulcers regularly, making it difficult to talk and eat. They came with bouts of fatigue and digestive issues too, and one particularly nasty flare up led to a hospital visit.

    A few blood tests and examinations later, the news came back that I likely had Crohn’s disease, an inflammatory condition that can affect any part of the digestive tract (from the mouth, to the other end).

    Crohn’s can be pretty miserable. Oftentimes, sufferers face a lifetime of medications and surgery. I knew that wasn’t a path I wanted. I decided right then (in a naïve and almost boisterous manner) that Crohn’s or not, I would beat this myself.

    I took a step back to examine the big picture.

    In my eyes, I had these habits that were making me ill and keeping me on a path that I didn’t want. To change my trajectory, I just needed to alter my habits. If only it was that simple…

    I soon found out the hard way that habit changing isn’t the easiest pastime. After many failed attempts, I always came back to the same question: How can we create habits that are lasting rather than ones that phase out after a few weeks?

    Eventually, through trial and error, I was able to come up with a few answers, and gradually began transforming my life. I started eating a plant-based diet, and altered how I trained, which gave me more energy.

    I read more, worried less, and meditated regularly, which reduced my stress levels and allowed me to see more clearly the road I wanted to take.

    Fast forward a few years to the present day, things have vastly improved. Although I still occasionally get health issues, the symptoms are much easier to deal with.

    Despite repeated blood tests and investigations, I haven’t been diagnosed with Crohn’s disease. Maybe it was an overzealous initial prognosis, or perhaps I dodged a bullet by changing my habits. Either way, I’m happy that I went through the struggle. It taught me a lot, and allowed me to create the life I‘m living today.

    If you’re feeling a little lost right now, or you’re struggling to implement changes, you may benefit from applying these five important lessons I’ve learned about forming habits.

    1. Start with self-acceptance.

    Most of us practice unconditional love toward our close friends and family, regardless of their flaws, but it’s rare that we show the same acceptance toward ourselves.

    Instead, we beat ourselves up over every mistake we make, and every little defect. Our big belly, our bad eating habits, our laziness, and inability to manifest change. We waste so much energy focusing on these things, energy that could be used productively elsewhere.

    Perhaps the most important step in habit changing is to first accept yourself for who you are, flaws and all. Those imperfections are what make us human.

    Instead of talking yourself down, try treating yourself as you would a loved one. Be forgiving, and realize that wherever you are right now, it’s okay.

    You’re more likely to succeed in making changes if they’re coming from a place of self-respect rather than self-hatred.

    2. Determine your values.

    It’s easy to lose sight of what’s really important to us. We’re constantly comparing ourselves to others. We get a neatly packaged glimpse into their life on Facebook, and form a false idea of perfection that we should live up to.

    We then attempt to make a load of changes to become more like that person, without considering why. We set goals that are not aligned with our values, resulting in discomfort and dis-ease, and we never commit to them long term because they’re not that important to us.

    Be you, not a second-rate version of someone else. First, determine your values by asking yourself a few questions. What would you do if money weren’t an issue? Where are you most organized and reliable? What do you surround yourself with?

    Some people value their health above all else. Others are more concerned with their family, or making lots of money, or a mixture of all the above.

    Whatever’s most important to you, set goals that align with it. For example, if you want to eat healthily, but your highest value is caring for your family, how can you reframe that goal?

    Eating healthier may allow you to spend more quality time with your loved ones, or help you do a better job of looking after them. That’s your strong reason “why” that will excite you and inspire you to move forward.

    3. Start small and build gradually.

    Willpower is not an infinite energy source, and when forming habits we should avoid tapping into it as much as possible.

    I’m a sucker for getting over zealous and trying to make many big changes at once, but rarely does this ever lead to long-term success. Lasting changes are made from many small steps added together, not from a flick of the switch.

    Rather than fixating on an end goal, plan your next few steps in that general direction, then execute them. If you want to eat healthily, maybe start by changing your breakfast, and nothing else. When you’re fully comfortable with that, perhaps begin to adjust your lunch.

    Take your time, and don’t be tempted to bite off more than you can chew. Commit to the long haul rather than looking for the quick fix. It’s a more satisfying process, and each small step you take, you build your self-esteem, and your ability to produce further change.

    4. Build a support network.

    I’ve always had the tendency to try to tackle problems on my own. I thought asking for help was a sign of weakness, but the opposite is true. Building community is an important part of forming habits. It was only when I involved others that I really started to see success.

    Perhaps tell a reliable friend about the next few steps you’re taking with your new habit, and ask them to hold you accountable with weekly progress reports. Maybe even introduce rewards. This can give you that extra push you need to succeed.

    5. Embrace failure.

    Many of us grow up fearing failure. The reality is that failure can be a good thing, but we’re not taught how to deal with it properly. For most young people, failure is met with the less than inspiring statement of ”Oh well, better luck next time.” They’re left feeling deflated, with low self-esteem and nothing to act upon.

    You’ll likely fail several times when changing your habits, just like I did (and still do). First, realize it’s okay. Those road bumps are a vital part of the learning process.

    Secondly, search for the lesson. Failure teaches us what we can do to improve so we can come back next time as an upgraded version of ourselves. Maybe it means altering your goal to make it a little easier.

    Make your adjustments, pick yourself up, and get back on the path to fulfilling your passions.

    Make the change image via Shutterstock

  • Unlearning the Self-Loathing That’s Passed Down by Generations

    Unlearning the Self-Loathing That’s Passed Down by Generations

    “Embrace and love your body. It is the most amazing thing you will ever own.” ~Unknown

    The first time I made myself throw up to feel skinny, I was five years old. My grandmother still loves to tell this story—she thinks it’s funny.

    The story goes like this: I tell my grandmother my stomach feels sick. She rubs my belly. I tell her it still hurts. She asks me if I want to try the “potion.” I say, “Yes.”

    The “potion,” as I realized in an unrelated context in my early twenties, was syrup of Ipecac—a strong vomit inducer. I should mention this was back in the Ukraine. My grandmother uses no such potion now and neither does most of the populace—I hope.

    So, there I go drinking a whole glass. I vomit. Ten minutes later, I’m in front of the mirror, hiking up my dress to look at my stomach, saying, “Don’t I look pretty? Don’t I look thin?”

    My grandmother almost rolls onto the floor laughing. She’s laughing because this little kid pulled the wool over her eyes, because my stomach didn’t really hurt. Because I’d conned her.

    How could this woman, who’s from the old country, who had to share a loaf of bread with nine of her siblings, possibly understand the reasoning or the danger of throwing up your food on purpose?

    Fast forward ten years, I’ve got a full blown eating disorder. I just wonder what my grandmother would have said if she’d have walked in on me, sitting on my bedroom floor, at age fifteen, surfing a pro-mia website, shoving a salt-covered wooden spoon down my throat to see if it made me gag easier.

    Never in a million years would she imagine what I’d been doing and why.

    My mother, however, is a different story. And so am I.

    I remember, when I was about four, my mom dropping me off on my grandmother’s step warning her not to feed me too much. That would have been the worst thing—if I gained weight. My mother took many precautions to make sure this did not happen.

    Of course, my grandmother didn’t listen.

    And so, the precautions turned to problems. My mother’s worst fear had become a reality.

    I still remember the fury with which she scolded me when she found stashed food in my room, the anger in her eyes as she tried grabbed onto my fat and my senses, trying desperately to make me understand—she was trying to help me.

    No one wants a fat girl.

    I remember watching her go on and off diets. I remember watching from around the corner as she put on her makeup, her creams, her mask. I remember the way she’d talk about herself as if she were an old house that she was trying to renovate, although the wood had rotten and fallen through the cracks.

    I found out later much later that, although my one grandmother wouldn’t know a thing about that kind of thinking, my late grandmother, my mom’s mom, was like my mother and me. She had learned the ways of self-loathing.

    It was like something happened to the women on my mom’s side of the family that didn’t happen to my dad’s side, like a program had been downloaded into our heads that said: “No one likes a fat, ugly girl, and you are one.”

    In her TED talk about lexicography, Erin McKean mentions something she calls “The Ham Butt Problem.”

    The Ham Butt Problem goes something like this: a woman’s cooking a ham for her family and she cuts a huge piece of butt off and throws it out. Her son sees her doing it and asks, “Why do you do that?” She answers, “Well, I don’t know, I guess because my mother always did it this way.”

    So, woman calls her mother and asks her, “Mom, why’d you cut the butt off the ham when you made it?” The mother says, “Well, I don’t know, my mother did it this way.” So, both women, full of curiosity now, call grandma and ask her the same question.

    Grandma laughs and says, “My pan was too small.”

    And so, I learned to put on makeup, fret over my blemishes, buy creams for my face, creams for my thighs, and creams for my arms.

    I learned to go on and off diets. I learned to feel ugly all the time, except when I’d put on my mask and protect myself from my horrible, natural appearance. I did what I saw done. I cut the butt off my ham because my mother cut the butt off hers.

    By the time I was twenty-three, I had dyed hair, dyed eyebrows, and a whole closet full of shape-altering clothes. I had problems with addiction, co-dependent relationships, anxiety, and self-hatred so serious that it ended me up hearing voices and feeling suicidal.

    Cutting the butt off my ham almost killed me.

    As I picked up the broken pieces of my life, trying to put them back together, I realized that everything was too broken to glue back together. I had to start over.

    And as I looked at those broken pieces lying there, I realized suddenly that all of the pain and self-destruction I had brewed in my life for almost twenty years had the same source. It was that program—that self-loathing thinking that I’d inherited from at least two generations.

    As I learned to see myself in a different light, I realized the pure ignorance of that kind of thinking. How ungrateful is it to say that nature doesn’t know how to make beauty? Doesn’t nature make sunsets and rainbows and beaches? Nature made me. How could I say that was ugly? Who was I to judge?

    And so, I learned to fall deeply in love with my reflections, not because of my flaws and not despite them, but because this body is a gift, because beauty is the signature of all living thing, because I am a tiny piece of the universe; how can that not be beautiful?

    The more I’ve liberated myself from this programming, the more I’ve looked around at the women in my generation and felt a deep yearning to heal their pain.

    They, too, are carrying the burdens of this cultural programming on their shoulders, never realizing that they’re only suffering because they were taught to suffer. There is no good reason to hate our bodies, no matter how they look.

    There is no reason to spend our lives in this kind of desperate, self-hating pain.

    I think that self-acceptance is the modern-day revolution, because self-loathing is modern-day oppression. I honestly believe that each person who realizes his or her own beauty changes the world.

    I already know I’ve changed the world. I know because, one day, I’ll have a daughter who will watch me looking at myself in the mirror. And when she spies on me from behind the corner, as I once spied on my mother, she will not learn to be upset at her backside and to nitpick at her blemishes. She’ll learn to smile, look in her eyes, and greet her best friend.

    And that, more than anything else, is what really makes a difference.

  • Don’t Let the Outside World Control Your Happiness

    Don’t Let the Outside World Control Your Happiness

    Happy Woman on Grass

    “On a deeper level you are already complete. When you realize that, there is a playful, joyous energy behind what you do.” ~Eckhart Tolle

    We have this strange need or conditioning to not take responsibility for our own happiness. We expect it to come from an outside source.

    It can happen, but it’s fleeting. True happiness has to come from within.

    True happiness comes from a connection to our true being.

    Years ago my family and I took our dog to obedience school, and the trainer told us, if we have more than one dog, to never let them share a crate. Yes, they would become best friends, even inseparable. Then one of them would die and the other would be completely heartbroken.

    Imagine putting all your happiness on another person. This could be a friend or a soul mate. You share your dreams, relying on each other for companionship and future plans. Then tragedy happens, a split of some kind.

    It’s natural to be heartbroken when you lose someone you love—but how could you survive this if all your happiness was contained in this one person?

    This same thing can happen with the material world. We easily put our happiness on getting that prized possession, the big house, the new car, or a job that we think we want.

    I spent most of my life up until now in the shadow of fleeting happiness. It followed me everywhere.

    It started when I was young. I searched for acceptance. I did ridiculous things to my hair, and I lost my virginity way too young. I thought these things would bring me a sense of happiness, but I never felt truly happy.

    Then my young adult self emerged still on the search for “when.” When I get to do this… when I go here… when I do that… then I will finally be happy.

    I spent my days waiting for various things to happen, to in turn bring me the happiness I longed for.

    I married young. I moved to a city that wasn’t conducive to my nature. I got the corporate job that would make me feel established, following society’s definition of success.

    With two young kids I moved to a way too expensive house that fit the mold of a successful, acceptable young adult. And—gasp—I bought a minivan. I was a mom, after all. Wasn’t this my road to happiness?

    With all these misguided beliefs of happiness under my belt, the waves of discontent still threatened to drown me. I kept treading water with no movement.

    I realized in time the truth behind my happiness, and it didn’t lie in things or people or society’s definitions. I had always had the ability to feel happy; I just hadn’t realized it.

    I realized it when I was able to accept myself, fully, in who I was.

    I realized I didn’t need to edit who I was. I was able to look in the mirror and see the perfectness in all my imperfections. I was able to go to a social event and be okay with myself sitting quietly in the corner. I learned to just be without worry or concern about what others thought. I was okay just being me.

    I would often find myself sitting quietly, taking it all in. These were the mindful moments that allowed me to acknowledge all that was around me. And you know what? It was full.

    The world was full of the richness of life—nature, people, laughter, smiles, wind, noise, and breath. I started to notice my breath and breathe a little deeper in gratitude for all the experiences of my life. The realization came with a flood of tears, joy, and intense connection…with myself.

    We believe in a happiness that really doesn’t exist. We search for it in many ways, rarely finding it in the form we are seeking.

    Happiness can sometimes comes from things. “When I get this car, or these shoes, or this job, man, will I be happy.” And you do, you get the position and you drive to your new job in your new car with your shiny new shoes on.

    The world is oh so perfect. It couldn’t get any better. Then the company you work for goes bankrupt, you can no longer afford your car, and now you have no place to wear your shoes.

    Are you happy anymore? Not if you banked all your happiness in those fleeting things.

    But let’s say you already discovered true happiness from deep within your soul and felt happy with yourself. Then you got your dream job. Would you be happier?

    You might feel more fulfilled but not happier, because your inner happiness was already infinite. If you lost your job, would some of your happiness diminish? No. You might feel disappointed but you wouldn’t lose your happiness because it was already infinite.

    Your happiness cannot come from the outside world. It must come from within you.

    When you are able to acknowledge that happiness already resides in you, a pressure will release because you’ll no longer feel ruled by your ego’s need for more.

    Still, it is important to know that true happiness may not always feel great. Realizing true happiness doesn’t mean you will be skipping through a field of daisies without a care in the world.

    You will have bad days. You will feel overwhelmed with normal life at times. You may even look beyond the horizon to see what lies ahead. This is all okay.

    Happiness doesn’t have to look like a storybook. Happiness is simply the realization that life is just fine as it is.

    You’ll experience true happiness when you allow yourself to be content in your true self, recognize the innate greatness of the world that surrounds you, and know that the people and things in your life hold no power over you. You are the master of your happiness.

    You are already complete. When you realize this, there will be happiness in everything you do.

    Smiling woman on grass image via Shutterstock