Tiny Buddha

Tag: self-care

  • How to Deal With Low Moods: A 4-Step Plan to Help You Feel Better

    How to Deal With Low Moods: A 4-Step Plan to Help You Feel Better

    “And some days life is just hard. And some days are just rough. And some days you just gotta cry before you move forward. And all of that is okay.” ~Unknown

    I have always struggled with low moods. I guess that considering that I spent close to twenty years of my life inactive and depressed, this could be seen as progress. But that still didn’t feel good enough.

    I wanted to feel more balanced, light, and happy, and I wanted to achieve it in natural ways without having to take any kind of medication since that hadn’t worked for me in the past.

    So I began to research. I asked around. I read books. I watched videos. I became a psychotherapist.

    Most people can’t tell you how you shift out of low or bad moods. Sit with it, they say.

    And sure, that is a huge help because, up until that point, I would beat myself up over being in a low mood, which just made things worse.

    So ditching that beating-myself-up habit did help a lot.

    But here’s how I went further with it.

    During my studies and my experiences as a psychotherapist, I realized that everything has a cause. It might look random, but it never is. So there had to be a reason for my low moods. It was time for a lot of self-observation and self-exploration.

    Funnily enough, my work with my clients helped me uncover what I was looking for. It is, after all, always so much easier to see it in other people than it is to find it in yourself.

    I discovered that my moods were primarily linked to two things.

    The first one was needs, or more accurately, unmet needs.

    The second one was feelings, unexpressed feelings.

    Before my healing journey, there was no way for me to change my mood in any way because I wasn’t aware of my needs, and all I ever did was suppress and inhibit my feelings.

    Both of these things logically result in low moods.

    So why didn’t I meet my needs or feel my feelings? These simply weren’t things I had been taught how to do. In fact, suppressing my feelings was encouraged. No, it was demanded.

    If I didn’t, I would get punished. I would get hit. And a child learns very quickly how to keep themselves safe, so that’s what I did.

    I remember this one time I got bullied really badly. As I walked into the family home, I collapsed on the floor and cried. This was not something I had ever done before. It was a rare occasion. I had a proper breakdown.

    My mother looked at me in disgust, stepped over me, and carried on with cleaning the house.

    I don’t exactly remember how long I lay there, but it must have been a long time because she repeatedly stepped over me and ignored me in my pain.

    So that’s what I learned to do to myself.

    Whatever was going on, I ignored it.

    I never stopped to ask myself what I needed or how I felt. I didn’t give myself any reassurance or encouragement. I didn’t help myself in any way, so my only go-to point was depression or a low mood.

    On the inside, I kept my loudly screaming needs and feelings locked up in a tiny little jar just waiting to explode. I had to keep my moods low to keep the pressure down. I had to be quiet to make sure I didn’t accidentally unlock the biggest scream the world had ever heard.

    Today, I realize that my low moods were symptoms of me ignoring myself, not feeling my feelings, and not meeting my needs.

    I didn’t know how to honor my feelings and needs then, but I learned how during my work and healing journey.

    When a low mood visits me today, I don’t step over myself. I don’t repeat the patterns of the past. I don’t repeat the lack of kindness and warmth. Instead, I do these four things:

    1. I dig deep instead of surrendering to my low mood.

    I no longer just leave myself in it. I don’t just tolerate it.

    I notice it, stay with it, and love myself too much to not do anything about it.

    Instead, I get curious.

    2. I accept instead of fighting my low mood.

    There’s no point in putting yourself down when you’re already feeling low.

    You’re not doing anything wrong when you feel bad.

    It’s just a sign that you need to check in with yourself and figure out what’s going on for you so that you can take care of yourself in a healthy and loving way.

    So that’s what I do.

    3. I ask, “What’s going on for me?”

    Sometimes it’s obvious what’s impacting my mood. It could be a bad night’s sleep, an argument, or a cold.

    Sometimes it’s harder to figure out what’s going on, but then it’s important that I stay with it and don’t just shrug it off.

    In my experience, mood management has a lot to do with emotional self-care.

    I ask myself:

    • What feelings might I be suppressing?
    • In what ways might I be inhibiting or censoring myself?
    • Am I staying in the wrong kinds of relationships for me?
    • Do I forget to set boundaries?
    • Am I not having enough fun or variety?
    • Do I need to stretch myself more and grow?

    Learning how to meet my needs and feel my feelings were the two most important aspects of my healing journey. So much started to make sense once I knew what to do about my feelings or needs.

    My moods weren’t just random anymore. They made sense. And if they didn’t, I knew that I hadn’t found all of the puzzle pieces yet.

    4. I have compassion for myself.

    It’s wonderful to be a human. It’s also hard.

    We have feelings and moods and needs and relationships and dreams and fears and so much else going on.

    It’s not simple, and it’s not easy.

    We have to give ourselves some credit for all the great things that we achieve and do.

    But most of all, we have to appreciate who we are and how we are.

    We want to improve things. We want to feel better and be better for ourselves and for others. That alone needs to be celebrated!

    The not giving up. The striving to grow. The commitment to healing. All of that needs to be acknowledged.

    And all of you deserves compassion. Low mood or not.

  • 5 Simple Yet Essential Self-Care Tips That Can Change Your Life

    5 Simple Yet Essential Self-Care Tips That Can Change Your Life

    “Never be ashamed to say, ‘I’m worn out. I’ve had enough. I need some time for myself.’ That isn’t being selfish. That isn’t being weak. That’s being human.” ~Topher Kearby

    Years ago, my extended family, who I am very close with, migrated from Vietnam to America as permanent residents. Four separate families had a couple of kids in each family. They are nice, kind, and loving people, and their kids were super cute and respectful.

    My relationship with my extended family has taught me a lot of lessons throughout my life so far, but this was one of the most impactful ones to date.

    Throughout the first few years of their residency here in the USA, they struggled with the language barrier and navigating an unfamiliar setting. As with most people who choose to migrate to another country, it was challenging for them to learn how to adapt to their new normal here in the United States.

    I couldn’t bear seeing them struggle, so I decided to step in to help them through this huge transition they were facing. I took them to most of their doctor’s appointments, brought them to work on time, helped them out with school conferences for their kids, and supported them in the completion of other tasks that they weren’t able to do on their own.

    I didn’t see this as a burden at all. In fact, I was having fun helping them because I love them so much.

    If you’re like me, you will understand this. When I am helping people that I care about, I tend to forget about taking care of myself. Slowly, this began to be the case.      

    The love I have for my family fueled my energy, which made me overlook the importance of caring for myself. Sure enough, after a while of supporting and caring for my family through their transition, I started to feel emotionally depressed and physically drained.

    I couldn’t find an explanation for why I was feeling this way, so I decided to check in with my doctor. My doctor explained that I had nothing to worry about regarding my physical health.

    After determining that I was healthy, I realized that there must have been a deeper explanation for why I was feeling that way. That’s when I knew my exhaustion was coming from overly helping and caring for my family. After all, I was taking on responsibility for everything in their lives from the little things to the important things.

    At this point, there was a little voice inside my head saying that it was time to sit down with myself and re-evaluate how I was spending my time and energy. Deep down I knew that this would be the only way for me to feel healthier and happier.

    For the sake of my well-being, I decided to implement positive change in my life, Once I did, I was amazed at how my physical and emotional well-being began to improve.

    I didn’t want to leave my family hanging, so I made sure that I took the time to show their kids what they needed to know so that they could help their parents and themselves. I knew that they had other family members that were willing to step in when they needed assistance with tasks.

    It took me a while to make this decision because I didn’t want to leave them without ensuring that they would be cared for. Thankfully, their children were confident taking over some of the tasks and helping their parents and their own families with the transitions that they were making.

    Sometimes, setting healthy boundaries with the people you care about also comes with setting a boundary with yourself.

    You cannot control how other people will react to your choices, no matter how badly you would like to be able to. With that said, it will bring you comfort knowing that you are doing what is best for you.

    In my case, I knew I needed to take better care of myself. I also took comfort in knowing that the choices I made for myself wouldn’t bring harm to anyone else. In time, I hope that my family will come to understand; but if they don’t, that’s okay too.

    I will always be wishing the best for them and sending them the brightest blessings in their life, regardless of if it is from a distance or up close.

    It was through this experience that I learned that the best way to care for others is to begin with caring for yourself. This may seem selfish or unnatural at first. However, with time, you will find that you are more capable of adequately caring for others when you are well cared for yourself.

    Once you master the art of self-care, you will find that you have more time and positive energy to put toward caring for those around you. Here are a few tips on where to begin on your journey toward self-care.

    1. Stay in touch with your feelings.

    If you’re honest with yourself about how you feel, you’ll be better able to meet your needs. It can be a challenge to be truthful with yourself and others about your feelings, but if you don’t, you’ll end up burnt out and resentful. This was my first step toward taking care of myself: telling my family I was feeling depleted.

    Ask yourself: How do I feel about how I currently spend my time? Am I honoring my needs and priorities? How do I feel about how much I give in my relationships? Am I overextending myself or giving more than I receive?

    2. Spend time with others.

    You can’t spend all of your time alone and remain emotionally healthy. Part of self-care is surrounding yourself with people who uplift, encourage, and support you.

    The ideal amount of human contact varies greatly from one person to another. No matter how much of a loner you might be, though, spending time with others matters because human connection brings happiness, joy, and belonging.

    When I realized I needed more time for reciprocal relationships, I set out a schedule to hang out with some of my closest friends.

    Call some of your friend or relatives to catch up, and ask them to get together. You’ll feel more connected, and if you open up about what’s going on in your life, you’ll be able to receive support instead of always being the one who gives it.

    3. Spend quality time alone.

    When you spend time alone, you’re able to get in touch with yourself on a deeper level. You get to reflect, introspect, and make a plan for anything that needs to change in your life. This will help you accomplish your goals, and you’ll feel more grounded as a person.

    Again, how much time you need to spend alone is an individual preference. It can be hard to refuse requests or say no to gatherings, but if you find the right balance for you, you can stay connected to other people while keeping up with your personal goals.

    4. Exercise regularly.

    When I decided to prioritize myself, I committed to keeping myself active and in shape. I personally enjoy weight training, pilates, dancing, and taking long walks by the lake. Not only do I feel physically stronger, I have more energy and get a boost of feel-good chemicals every time I exercise.

    Any physical activity is better than nothing, but you’ll feel a lot better if you can devote thirty minutes each day to movement, whether you play a sport, dance, or participate in a group exercise class. Your body is designed to move, so when it’s not using its potential, it creates stagnation.

    5. Manage stress.

    Take frequent breaks throughout the day to relieve tension and restore your energy before tackling your next task. Check in with yourself regularly to look for signs of stress, including physical exhaustion, getting irritated easily, having a lack of focus, and mindlessly eating junk food.

    When you notice your stress level rising, practice deep breathing or utilize any other relaxation methods that work for you.

    I generally like to get a massage, go for a walk, meditate, and journal. I like to write out all the stress on paper and burn it away.

    Another stress relief practice that I often do is chanting. It’s a healing method to help you clear any worries, stress, fears. When I chant for a period of time, my energy always shifts, bringing me back to a more grounded state.

    If you take on other people’s energy, you may want to practice energy cord cutting. This can be as simple as visualizing yourself detaching a cord connecting you to someone who drains you.

    Practicing forgiveness for yourself and others is also a powerful stress-release method. I highly recommend the Ho’opononopo practice; if you’re not familiar with it, you can go on YouTube and look it up.

    —

    The quality of your self-care is a great barometer of your overall well-being, and it can keep you firing on all cylinders. If you’re feeling down and out, give extra attention to your self-care. You deserve the time and attention. A regular self-care practice also demonstrates that you truly recognize your own worth.

  • It’s Okay to Have No Purpose Beyond Being and Enjoying This Moment

    It’s Okay to Have No Purpose Beyond Being and Enjoying This Moment

    “I don’t believe people are looking for the meaning of life as much as they are looking for the experience of being alive.” ~Joseph Campbell

    I was sitting on my yoga mat with my legs stretched out in front of me. I bent forward into a fold, puffing and clenching my jaw as I extended my fingertips toward my toes. I was growing angrier by the second.

    A slew of sour thoughts marched through my brain.

    This is stupid. I thought yoga was supposed to be relaxing. I’m so out of shape. Other people have no trouble with this pose. This hurts. Why bother doing yoga at all? It doesn’t work.

    My mat resistance was strong at this moment, but it was also indicative of a much larger problem. Doing the pose “right” wasn’t the issue here; it was my belief that unless I could bend a certain way, I wasn’t progressing in my yoga teacher training.

    I wasn’t meeting my goal. I wasn’t being “productive.”

    And surely, there was no greater sin than that.

    A Collective Fungus

    The idea that you aren’t worthy unless you are producing results has seeped like insidious black mold into every facet of our modern lives.

    We are pressured to always be making goals, going somewhere, or achieving something. “Doing nothing” is scorned as lazy. Pursuing a hobby with no monetary value or social esteem is deemed a waste of time.

    You only have a certain number of days on this planet. If you don’t spend them hustling, you’re of no use to anyone.

    You’re writing a novel? Well, have you published it yet? How much money did you get for it?

    Oh, you’ve taken up jogging? Why? Are you planning on running a marathon? What are your weight goals?

    Don’t you want to leave a legacy behind? Don’t you want people to read off a list of impressive accomplishments at your funeral?

    But the truth is that the most meaningful things that happen to us in life have no clear point.

    You can’t cash in on the beauty of a sunset. There’s no “purpose” to stargazing. Listening to a song that transports you out of time and space doesn’t pay the bills.

    Moments like these are born from joy and wonder, and they are what give our lives meaning. It’s time we gave ourselves permission to feel them.

    1. Schedule time to do nothing.

    Once I realized how much the burden of being productive was curdling my overall joy in life, I started setting aside time to simply “be.” For me, this involved sitting on my porch with a glass of wine in hand, trying to simply be present to what was going on around me.

    No phone, no music, no screens.

    What became very apparent, very quickly, was how restless I grew without any busywork. I felt guilty and slothful. What was the point of just sitting here, enjoying the scenery? I should be out there doing something.

    But I did my best to ignore such feelings, and I continued to show up for these pockets of allotted rest. What I noticed was that gradually, the shame began to melt away. The more I gave myself permission to do nothing, the more I felt my spirit expand in the space I had created for it.

    These boozy relaxation sessions on the porch were only one way to cultivate gratitude and stillness. I tried other things as well, like bringing a more presence-focused—and less goal-oriented—attitude to my yoga practice.

    The “5-4-3-2-1” meditation was another helpful centering practice. It goes something like this:

    Take a moment to look around and note five things you see. Then note four things you hear, three things you can touch, two things you smell, and one thing you can taste. You can mix and match what senses go with which number.

    These moments of “being time” will look different for everyone. The point is to take a moment to note what is happening around you right here, right now.

    Let go of the shame that is so often attached to being “unproductive.” Give yourself permission to do nothing, even if it’s just for a few minutes a day.

    2. Abandon the idea that “self-love” means “selfish.”

    Granting yourself the grace to “be” is an integral component of self-love—a complicated and guilt-provoking term for many of us because we have so often been told that “self-love” is the same thing as “selfishness.”

    This misconception is yet another way our society has prioritized “hustling” over inner peace, and such an attitude often leads to the tragic dismissal of our own feelings and boundaries.

    Labeling self-love as selfish doesn’t stem from a healthy consideration of those around you, but from a devaluing of your own humanity.

    Self-love is the recognition that you have inherent value as a human being who takes up space on this beautiful green and blue marble.

    In practice, it means doing things that reinforce this truth—in whatever way nourishes you emotionally, mentally, and spiritually.

    For me, it means eating greener and doing yoga. It means respecting my creative process by resting so I don’t burn out.

    It means giving myself permission to let go of relationships that are ruled by guilt or fear. It means practicing embodiment through breathing exercises and checking in with my mental health.

    These are my ways of practicing self-love. They don’t have to be yours. Pay attention to what makes you feel free and joyous. Then go do that.

    Try to embrace that fact that you are worth prioritizing, every day, until this idea blossoms into your lived reality.

    3. Give yourself permission to not have a “purpose.”

    Have you ever been in a job interview and had the person sitting across from you ask, “So where do you see yourself in five years?’

    Well, consider this your official letter of permission to have no clue what you’re doing in five years—or even one year. You don’t even have to know what you’re doing tomorrow.

    The only “purpose” we have as human beings is to move toward and reflect love. There are a lot of different ways to do this, and everyone deserves the space to discover the path that is right for them.

    Ultimately, life is about joy, not productivity or the subjective goalposts of success. Grant yourself the grace to exist in this world. Being alive is a miracle.

    You are enough simply because you are.

  • Confessions of an Extrovert: Why I Now Love My Alone Time

    Confessions of an Extrovert: Why I Now Love My Alone Time

    “Allow yourself to grow and change. Your future self is waiting.” -Unknown

    Not to be dramatic, but I really mean it when I say that solitude changed my life. I am an extrovert who loves humans, socializing, and learning from people and experiences. I’ve always enjoyed being around others, and don’t get me wrong, I still thrive this way. But when I got Covid in 2021, life completely changed, and it’s not the only way I thrive now.

    Before Covid, I’d been living my life in a way that wasn’t serving me. I was partying a lot, not eating well, and living in chaos, with very little rest. I constantly had my schedule booked, leaving no time for self-care. I felt like I was living life for others, ignoring what I needed.

    I made mistakes, like blowing off my priorities because I was in a terrible headspace, and I continued living an unhealthy lifestyle until I finally had a talk with myself and realized this wasn’t right for me (then Covid came along, and sh*t got serious).

    I didn’t immediately enjoy quarantining and being stuck at home, away from friends and family, but before I got sick, I knew change was coming. And though I felt a lot of resistance, I also felt that a new version of myself was on the way.

    While I’m usually not one to fight change, there was so much going on at once, and it was a lot. I also learned that I was one of the people who suffered from panic attacks and anxiety as a side effect of Covid. The aftermath was worse than having the virus itself.

    This lasted almost a year. I felt so bad for myself; I couldn’t believe that this is what life had come to for me. I was even losing my hair. Some days I’d wonder if this dark tunnel would ever come to an end and show me light. Things felt very heavy, but I also had some of the most beautiful things going on at the same time, like living in the city with my now fiancé, so it was all very confusing.

    I began to lose sleep, which was unusual for me. My inner world felt like chaos. There were lots of tears and weekly therapy sessions (which also changed my life). Therapy and journaling became my safe spaces to release and understand myself.

    Throughout the year of that inner chaos, what did I learn? Surrender. I was trying to maintain full control of my life and keeping busy while actively avoiding working through suppressed emotions from times when younger Naila would over-extend for others, and completely forget to take care of herself. I didn’t want to listen because I was afraid. And that’s human nature, to fear the unknown.

    So, here’s a reminder that the Universe forces you to slow down and redirect when you’re not listening. This also means it may hurt more since we didn’t consciously welcome the change.

    Over time, I have gone through so many phases and such inner growth. I began working with my wonderful therapist and quit a job that was not working out for me as expected (which hurt). I’ve lost people and my relationships changed, thankfully most of them for the better.

    As soon as I let go of control and put in the hard work, things got better, and I saw results—even if they were just small victories. I was starting to see that light I’d been waiting for. My body felt lighter as I began to release dead weight from my body and I began to feel like myself again, but this time, better than ever.

    I chose watering myself over destructive behaviors. Instead of focusing on the anxiety attacks and trying to force myself back to sleep at night, I meditated. I chose solitude over socializing. This was the peak of my growth. 

    Sometimes, we get lost in the chaos of this busy world. We get sucked into conversations and company we don’t actually enjoy. Society tells us to be productive 24/7. Our worth is based off money, accomplishments, and what social media sees. Conversations are about what we are instead of who we are.

    Long before this journey, I was used to overbooking my schedule, always very busy. I would work two jobs, scheduling anything I could in between and going to school at the same time. I enjoyed it then.

    Solitude and self-reflection taught me what I truly care about: genuine connections, giving and receiving love, nurturing myself just as I do others, and living, not just surviving.

    My higher self told me that the world’s expectations are not my own, and that it’s okay to choose a different path than I once wanted (or society told me I wanted). As I’ve learned in therapy, I am my own worst critic, so my new path is all about letting life unfold naturally, without constantly criticizing myself for where I thought I’d be in life, especially in my career.

    I began to reflect on my life, my inner child, and current self. Most importantly, I began to heal from things I’d stored away from childhood pains and days long ago during an abusive relationship. I let go of self-sabotaging behaviors and decided to finally listen and release, then the inner turmoil started to calm.

    Because I was spending much more time alone, I learned a lot about myself. Solitude helps us build trust with ourselves and teaches us about our true desires. We begin to tolerate less and prioritize differently. I value very different things now than I once did. I’m getting to know my true self, and that’s something no one can teach you or prepare you for. 

    I also want to emphasize that solitude is possible while you’re in a healthy relationship.

    Throughout my dark days, I had my now-fiancé supporting me through it all while letting me heal and grow. Him supporting my solitude made me that much more successful on my journey. When someone around you offers love, respect, and support, it makes it easier. Their company becomes a bonus and not a burden. Previous Naila didn’t think this was possible, and I’m grateful things panned out differently.

    Overall, I have learned that the “dark” times were actually just lessons and periods that catapulted my growth and healing. The tough times are temporary, and there is strength and clarity in solitude. As of today, I cherish my solitude; it’s a vital part of my being. I also learned that there is light at the end of the dark tunnel. Yes, even when it’s long and scary.

    In this new chapter of my life, rest is high on my priority list, not overworking and overbooking. I am much pickier about who/what I surround myself with, much more productive, and still growing and ever-changing.

    My life is much more peaceful and calm, and my boundary-setting skills are much stronger. These are lessons I couldn’t learn as an unbalanced extrovert. I’m a better version of myself now.

    So, if you’re an extrovert who forgets to prioritize yourself, someone who’s going through a dark tunnel, or someone who avoids change, this post is for you. Instead of being afraid of solitude and change, learn to accept them and watch how they transform your life for the better.

    As my dad once told me, change is the only constant in life, so get comfortable with the uncomfortable.

    I believe in you. ♥

  • How I’m Healing from Abuse After Going in Circles for Years

    How I’m Healing from Abuse After Going in Circles for Years

    TRIGGER WARNING: This post deals with an account of sexual abuse and may be triggering to some people.

    “Recovery is a process. It takes time. It takes patience. It takes everything you’ve got.” ~Unknown

    We are often told in therapy that we need to dig deep and explore our feelings until we find the root of our problem, as though we’ll finally have peace and relief just because we’ve found the “Nugget of Trauma.”

    The problem with long-term childhood trauma is that there was not just one Nugget, or one moment that we were left reeling from. For many of us abused as children, trauma encompassed our entire childhood and adolescent life.

    When I was in my early twenties my memories became a deluge, flooding into my mind all at once. I started with talk therapy, and it seemed like the one recurring question being asked of me was, “What’s the issue or event that you are struggling with?”

    So, thinking that they must know more than me about how to deal with the chaos in my mind, I would focus on one aspect of my childhood to try an work through it with them.

    I had a lot to pick from: beatings, torture, rape, sodomy, abduction, neglect, and the big pulsing mass of guilt and shame.

    I was ashamed that I could not protect my brothers and that, each time I was raped, it was because of something I had done that required punishment, like not wringing out a wash rag tightly enough. All of my abuse and the abuse of my brothers was, according to my father, my fault because I wasn’t good enough.

    Sound familiar? For many of us, the manipulation of how we think about the abuse and ourselves is the most painful and long-lasting trauma, but going into detail about this in therapy is exhausting, mentally and physically, and can cause a spiral into deeper depression.

    I didn’t know all this when I was in my twenties, and I barely understood the concept of talk therapy, which was: You talk about something that happened to you, and then the therapist tells you about the side effects of that experience to help you understand your feelings and behavior.

    It took me a long time to learn that having a realization about a certain event and learning how it’s affecting me in the present doesn’t mean the problems associated with it go away. And, unfortunately, the clinical view that I was making progress with those realizations, or “breakthroughs,” was false.

    For many of us, having a “breakthrough” doesn’t even mean that in two years we’ll remember it, and we may go through the same cycles of dealing with the abuse all over again. Like a big Wheel of Trauma.

    It took me years to recognize I was cycling through the Wheel of Trauma:

    • A deep dive into depression
    • Leading to anger at being depressed and feeling “sick of living with this”
    • Then the realization of how a specific past experience was affecting me
    • Cue the tsunami of relief and giddy hopefulness and a false belief that I was getting better
    • The relief soon wears off
    • A deep dive back into depression where the realization is forgotten

    I may never have recognized it if a friend hadn’t pointed it out to me. To find out I’d been going in circles was devastating.

    After doing some independent research on the neurological damage caused by early childhood trauma, I have begun to wonder if my brain was cycling just so I could have those moments of relief as a way to feel something positive and hopeful. That might be wishful thinking, but this is one example of why it is so important to write things down and keep track of what is going on in your head, especially in dark times.

    Trust me, I know so well how scary it can be to put things down on paper and suddenly find yourself looking at something that your brain put away a long time ago to protect you.

    I’m not going to say it’s easy or fun. I’m not going to say that I haven’t been triggered by writing. I have been, but I also came through it, and the memories I was so afraid of, while painful, aren’t as scary now.

    If you’re like me, your mind protected you when you were too young to process what was happening to you. But you aren’t that child anymore; you’re older, your mind is more mature, and you’re better equipped to deal with those experiences now.

    Be gentle with yourself, but also have faith that you will come out the other side if you have to come face to face with a horrible memory, or what I have dubbed a Nugget of Trauma.

    I’ve also learned that you can grab a Nugget of Trauma and pull it into the light, metaphorically. I don’t mean to take it out and analyze every detail. The goal isn’t to hurt yourself with old trauma; the goal is to learn how to move forward with it, and figure out some basic reactions you may have to that memory Nugget.

    Do you recognize the feelings that memory, or Nugget, has entwined with it?

    Do you behave in a certain way every day based on those feelings?

    Do you avoid certain people or places because they trigger that feeling?

    Do you feel this every day or just in certain situations or around certain people?

    How does it affect how you react to other people?

    How does it get triggered, and does it send you spiraling into depression?

    How do you feel about yourself?

    The goal isn’t to make it go away because it may never go away completely. But you can learn how to take care of yourself with this knowledge in hand and create new habits to counter the poison of the trauma.

    If something happens and you begin to feel a certain way, you will more likely recognize that feeling as something that is not associated with the present, and you can make a plan to take care of yourself in that situation.

    For example, I have come to recognize a sensation I sometimes feel when I’m with one or more people in an enclosed space, like a conference room or office. It is a physical, slimy, crawly feeling that I have to focus on and consciously control until I can make an excuse and leave.

    I’ve learned to recognize it so I can take care of myself in those situations. I leave, usually to a bathroom, and allow time for it to go away so I can feel safe again. If I can’t leave, I will hold a notepad or something in front of my chest as a barrier.

    Other things that may work for you are saying some soothing mantras, making a cup of tea, or taking a break and just writing it out. Smells can be a great way to break through a triggered response. Maybe keep some lotion or something else scented to help calm yourself and bring you back to the present. I love VapoRub for this.

    Your knowledge of yourself is the key to taking care of yourself, lessening past’s hold on you, and breaking the cycles.

    This means being completely honest with yourself and observing things you say and do without judging.

    When you can really see yourself without all the rationalizations, defenses, and excuses you cover your psyche with, you can better recognize your triggers, behavior patterns, and reactions.

    In my case, I am badly triggered by any cinama-graphic representation of rape. I will get up and walk out of the room, usually in a state of high agitation, and get really catty with anyone who tries to touch me or invade my personal space, which at that moment is about 1000 meters wide.

    It’s not a surprising trigger, and it doesn’t require a lot of analysis to figure out why it’s upsetting to me, but that isn’t really the point. The point is to truly be with myself in those moments to keep myself from spiraling down to the depths or physically harming myself.

    I’ve had to learn how to deal with my brain being doused in visual memories of rape and all the skin-crawling feelings that come with them. For me, this is where self-comfort and care has become vital.

    It’s almost like I have to be two people at the same time; while a huge part of me is freaking out, I have to be able to step outside of that, see myself in pain, and comfort myself back to safety and calm. And considering that I perceive most other people as threats when I’m triggered, I really only have myself.

    This was originally a hard lesson because I could listen to advice from friends or doctors or people on TV, but it was hard for me to take those ideas from “yeah, that sounds logical and smart” to actually living with those tools at my disposal and using them when I needed them.

    The first step was learning how to get myself to a mental state where I could use them. When you’re in the dark in your own mind and you can’t see the reality in front of you there is no logic that can break through.

    The damage isn’t logical, so it’s not an issue of logic or understanding; it’s a matter of taking care when your mind is in that painful moment and getting yourself back to the point where you have more control and are able to use those tools.

    It takes a lot of practice, patience, and honesty to develop self-care routines based on self-love and understanding. That understanding can’t always come from other people telling you what’s going on or why you’re reacting in a certain way. It’s best when understanding comes from caring enough about yourself to get your hands dirty and learn what’s really going on in your head.

    Admittedly, I have had long runs of not knowing what to make of the chaos in my mind, sometimes not even knowing what I was feeling, or what was real, or what was an attack from my past. In some moments of terror, not even knowing how old I was. It can be really bad at times, and I totally get that.

    The best course of action is to write as much as you possibly can every day about everything that is going through your mind. This gives you some idea of what your brain is fighting with.

    When you’re done writing, get some sleep or cry or go for a walk or talk to yourself on a voice recorder, or do something that will help calm your thoughts a bit. Later, you can look at what you’ve written and really see what you’re going through.

    This can be harsh at times, so be prepared for what comes out of your head. One of my dark writing sessions showed a seething self-hatred that was quite frightening.

    A lot of people take this journey with a therapist, and that can be a safe way to venture into the sometimes-ugly reality of our thoughts and being, like having someone with a life preserver waiting to pull us out of the muck if we get too deep and can’t get back out. I’ve had hit-or-miss experiences with therapists, but as mental health knowledge around early childhood trauma expands and improves, it is becoming a more viable option for some people.

    If you haven’t tried it yet, do some research and make an appointment. It takes time to build trust with someone, so be patient and remember to be kind to yourself.

    When I went to my last therapist I made a list of boundaries. I had been placed with a male against my noted preference, but I wanted to give it a shot, so I made a list letting him know things that would make sessions more difficult for me, like having him stand between me and the door. Little things to some people, but triggers for me.

    Don’t be ashamed of letting people know how best to help you. And know what helps you might change over time.

    After doing this for so many years I have learned that a method of self-care that worked for me in the past may not work for me today. Or a method that never sounded quite right for me before might now make sense. Allow yourself time and space to learn and grow and regress and progress.

    First priority: be good to yourself.

  • All the Ways I Tried to Numb My Loneliness and What Actually Helped

    All the Ways I Tried to Numb My Loneliness and What Actually Helped

    “A season of loneliness and isolation is when the caterpillar gets its wings.” ~Mandy Hale

    I feel so alone right now. Like, crawling out of my skin, I’ll do anything I can do to not feel this way alone.

    I haven’t felt this way in a long time. Thank goodness I have tools to take care of myself. Let me explain.

    My earliest childhood memory is my mother’s empty bed. The sheets are white, untucked, and messy.  The duvet cover is loose and hanging halfway on the floor. The room is quiet, there’s no sign of mom, and I am all alone.

    That’s when I met loneliness for the first time. When I was three-and-a-half years old and my mom had just passed away.

    Loneliness came upon me before I could understand what was going on. It came upon me when I was unprotected and exposed, when I was vulnerable and needy, and it pierced me to my core.

    As I got older, loneliness made me feel unworthy and different—as if I was the only person in the world that felt that way. It made me feel flawed and defective, and it liked to catch me off guard.

    Being in this headspace was so intense and overwhelming, I would do anything I could to make it go away. I would binge watch television, emotionally eat, play video games, and watch pornography (yes, I just admitted that).

    I didn’t have the emotional tools to ride out the discomfort of feeling alone, so I made myself feel better the only way I knew how—by numbing out.

    If I had a tough day at work, I’d come home and “escape” my feelings with television. If a girl I was interested in didn’t show interest in me, I’d watch porn so I didn’t have to deal with my fear of abandonment and loneliness.

    Upon first look, the solution seemed simple: learn to be comfortable in solitude. Ha! That’s like telling someone who wants to lose weight “Just eat less and move more.”

    If letting go of our patterns were that easy, none of us would suffer. This is why healing and self-intimacy aren’t for the faint of heart.

    It’s called inner work for a reason. I digress.

    What I discovered was that my “pattern” of escaping was actually a coping mechanism. I was trying to help myself, albeit in a not-so-healthy way.

    My fear of being alone felt too big to meet, so instead, I used television, food, video games, and porn to help manage it. To squelch the inner anxiety going on inside of me.

    And it wasn’t even conscious. I didn’t wake up each day thinking, “I’ll watch porn today to escape my feeling of loneliness.”

    In fact, it was the opposite. I would go to bed each night saying I was done with this type of behavior only to repeat the pattern the next day.

    It was default programming that was running on its own—until I slowed down to be with what was running it. As soon as I courageously did this, my patterns shifted.

    With the help of a mentor, I’ve developed a practice where I connect with loneliness rather than run away from it. After all, loneliness is part of the cast of characters that live inside each and every one of us.

    Any time I feel this way, I come up with a list of five to ten questions, like: Why are you here? What are you here to teach me? Will I be okay if I just sit in the discomfort of what’s coming up for me? I then invite loneliness to pull up a chair next to me and I interview my greatest fear. I work on the relationship rather than running away from it.

    When I sit with my loneliness I remember I am whole and complete, just the way I am. I often think about my mom during this time and have gone back to that place as a little boy to let him know that he is okay and remind him that his mother loves him very much.

    In the beginning I shed many tears, but after a while I was no longer plagued by a constant sense of longing. In fact, I began to enjoy being alone. Go figure!

    This got me thinking—what if our patterns of binge watching TV, checking out on social media, watching pornography, etc. are well-intentioned? What if they are here for us?

    We humans play this game all the time. We try to manage our feelings through acts of busyness, distraction, overwhelm, food, alcohol, pornography, work, and more. We use something outside of us in order for us to feel better on the inside.

    What I’ve realized is that management is a defense—a protector trying to help. It’s innocent and wonderful in its own way. Yet, real help only comes when we go within and meet what’s going on inside of us.

    Loneliness doesn’t go away. It’s a part of who we are.

    It’s a normal human emotion and can teach us a lot about ourselves. It can teach us patience and the importance of self-love.

    Building a relationship with this part of you takes time. It’s a process.

    So the next time you feel the twinge of loneliness creeping in, don’t try and run from it. Rather, lean into it and see how your life changes for the better.

    Loneliness created the urge to numb my emotions. Learning to be comfortable in solitude strengthened my esteem.

    It’s your choice. Self-pity or self-love.

    Today I intentionally shift this relationship. Take the beginning of this article for example.

    My wife is away on a work trip for the next twelve days, and I’m feeling isolated and alone. Rather than binge watch television or escape via porn, I’m going to reconnect with loneliness by simply sitting with it and see what it has to teach me.

    Where are you managing your fears and feelings? And how can you meet them instead?

  • How to Wake Up Smiling: 5 Daily Habits That Made Me a More Positive Person

    How to Wake Up Smiling: 5 Daily Habits That Made Me a More Positive Person

    “You create your future based on your energy in the present.” ~Unknown

    I’m usually a pretty happy person, but about a year ago—perhaps due to a lack of social connections and laughter—I experienced a few dark months. During those months, I spent most of my waking hours (and probably nights as well) consumed with negative thoughts.

    I woke up feeling angry in the morning, continued having negative thoughts most of the day, and went to bed in that same state of mind.

    Luckily, I didn’t have many opportunities to spread my negativity to others because we were in confinement.

    On one of those moody mornings, I played a video of a spiritual teacher that a friend had recommended listening to while getting ready for the day.

    Halfway through the video, he said, “Humanity is ascending into more loving and conscious states of being. You are becoming more of who you truly are, which is love.”

    At that moment, I caught my eyes in the mirror and stared at my unhappy face.

    “I’m not ascending. I’m descending further and further into the ‘hell’ in my own mind.”

    My negativity was eating me alive, but, strangely, it was so addictive.

    Since it had been escalating for some time (a few months by then) and had acquired a good bit of momentum, I really didn’t know if I’d be able to shift all that negativity into a more positive state of being. I knew that the longer I waited, though, the harder it would be.

    Still looking at my face in the mirror, I noticed the corners of my mouth pointing slightly downward.

    “If I continue like that, I’m going to get grumpy face wrinkles.”

    I made my bed and then went to the kitchen. As the coffee was brewing, I grabbed my laptop and Googled “how to be a more positive person,” and I scribbled down a few ideas that resonated with me.

    Later that day, after mixing and matching advice from different articles, I created what I called my “emotional hygiene routine.”

    It’s a series of simple habits that I committed to doing most days of the week for an entire month (and still continue to do today on most days) and that, over that month, took me out of my depressive state and made me wake up smiling in the morning again.

    I’d like to share them with you.

    1. Fall asleep in the “vortex.”

    One idea I came across in my research on being more positive came from Abraham Hicks:

    “If you go to sleep in the vortex, you wake up in the vortex. If you go to sleep not in the vortex, you wake up not in the vortex.”

    Being in the “vortex” refers to a state of pure positive energy. The idea in that quote is pretty straightforward: go to bed thinking positive thoughts and feeling happy feelings, and you’re more likely to wake up thinking and feeling positive in the morning.

    I knew this had to be true. I knew it because when I went to bed thinking angry thoughts, I usually dreamed that I was unhappy and then woke up grumpy (and exhausted) in the morning.

    So, I decided to try something. As I closed my eyes to sleep at night, I scanned the day from the moment I woke up until the present moment when I was lying in bed, and I tried to recall all the positive things (even tiny things) that had happened that day.

    I could have thought about the delicious mocha latte that I drank that morning, the fact there wasn’t snow on the ground and that I was able to run outside in the afternoon, or a nice comment someone left on one of my videos.

    I spent a few seconds remembering a happy moment before moving on to the next one. After scanning the entire day, I would do it again, trying to find even more subtle positive things, and I did this until I fell asleep.

    This exercise is probably the number one thing that helped me (and still continues to help me) wake up happier in the morning.

    2. Have something to look forward to on the following day.

    Something else that has helped me wake up happier is having something to look forward to every day, even if I have a busy day ahead and have minimal free time available.

    Still to this day, every evening, I schedule at least one activity that brings me joy for the following day. It can be going for a walk with a friend, baking cookies, or watching the sunset. It can also be as simple as wearing my favorite outfit.

    Scheduling one activity that brings me joy for the following day gives my mind something fun to anticipate and puts me in a good mood in the evening.

    And again, how the day ends is a good indicator of how the following day begins.

    3. Absorb uplifting ideas in the evening.

    We all know that what we feed our minds affects our mood. I don’t have a TV and don’t follow the news, but my Facebook feed is often enough to get me irritated. So, I decided to stop scrolling mindlessly on Facebook (or at least do so less often) and consume positive-only content instead.

    For the past few months, first thing in the morning and before going to bed, I’ve been reading a few pages of an inspiring book—usually something spiritual. I just finished reading the entire Earth Life book series by Sanaya Roman, and right now, I’m reading Wishes Fulfilled by Wayne Dyer.

    Reading those kinds of books brings me peace. I can notice a significant difference in my mood and stress level if I just take even fifteen minutes to consume uplifting content in the morning and evening.

    (If you have any book recommendations, you can share them in the comments.)

    4. Make a gratitude list—with a twist.

    After reading in the morning, I write down three to five things I’m grateful for—and why I appreciate each thing.

    I used to write gratitude lists of fifteen-plus items and do it very quickly—almost mindlessly—just to “get it done.” It made the practice sort of mechanical and not very effective.

    I’ve found that writing fewer items on my list and taking the time to dive into the reasons each thing makes me happy intensifies the feelings of gratitude and makes the exercise more profound. I try to do this daily, although I do forget sometimes. When I forget several days in a row, I can feel the difference in my general mood.

    Gratitude is perhaps the lowest-hanging fruit for cultivating a more positive attitude.

    5. Choose your state of being as you open your eyes.

    The last thing that has helped me is a piece of advice from Dr. Daniel Amen, one of the leading brain health experts. In an interview on The School of Greatness Podcast, he talked about the importance of setting a positive intention from the very start of the day to cultivate what he calls “a positivity bias.”

    An affirmation he uses himself and recommends using is: “Today is going to be a great day.”

    When we tell ourselves this in the morning, our unconscious mind then looks for things that are going right to prove that this is true. This isn’t toxic positivity—ignoring or denying the negative. It’s training our brains to see what’s positive instead of focusing on the negative by default.

    I’ve taken the habit of saying this affirmation (or a similar one) just after waking up and before opening my eyes in the morning. It’s a bit like choosing and declaring from the very start of the day what attitude you’ll adopt that day. It’s easy to do, and it sets the tone for the day.

    In the beginning, I didn’t always remember to declare my intention until later in the morning, but it didn’t take long before it became automatic. Now, just remembering to think about my intention (and then mentally saying it) makes me smile as I wake up.

    . . .

    Our lives don’t need to be perfect to wake up smiling in the morning; they just require a conscious effort to develop a positive attitude, which is what the five habits in this article have helped me accomplish.

    I hope they serve you well, too, if you choose to implement them.

  • How to Get Comfortable Being Alone and Get the Most Out of Solitude

    How to Get Comfortable Being Alone and Get the Most Out of Solitude

    “The act of sitting down is an act of revolution. By sitting down, you stop that state of being: losing yourself, not being yourself. And when you sit down, you connect to yourself. And you don’t need an iPhone or a computer to do that. You just need to sit down mindfully and breathe in mindfully.” ~Thich Nhat Hanh

    The day my ex-wife moved out was also the day when our dog moved out and when I was laid off from my bankrupt ex-company. It felt like everything around me had suddenly died. Many of our common friends and loved ones distanced themselves from me, and I felt abandoned.

    As I took my first few steps through the rubble, I felt the full force of this new solitude that was now forced upon me. And it wasn’t going anywhere soon.

    I immediately lost my appetite and my desire to cook. I started taking irresponsibly long hot showers and baths till my skin burned. I decluttered. I threw away pictures and memorabilia, love notes and cutlery, teabags and cushion covers. I stopped vacuuming.

    But I continued running. I started reading. I read anything that looked like it held a secret to end my suffering.

    I lost interest in my job. I’d wake up every morning with dread, sometimes not sleeping entire nights.

    I kept running. I got faster and stronger. I also got injured and had to stop. The darkness stayed even as the days started to get longer. While I lived abroad, the second wave of covid had just hit back home. One of my best friends from childhood died. Also a cousin. A friend lost his father and never saw the body. My dad got very sick and almost died. I sank further.

    But I kept meditating in solitude. Every time the void of existence hit me with boredom, anxiety, and restlessness, something deep within forced me to continue sitting through it. It started feeling familiar. And I slowly started to come back to life. My sense of taste returned. I started cooking again. I started having friends over.

    Still, some days I would collapse on the floor and cry till I got thirsty. Then I’d hydrate and go back to my laptop to run the next zoom meeting, smiling through it.

    I realized what a shell of a person I was now that my ex-wife had left me. At the same time, I continued to befriend the solitude and get comfortable with my aching heart—to sit with it, have a conversation with it, and see what it had to say and what it had learned.

    I was starting to get to know myself from a brand new perspective. It was almost like getting to know this new person who had been living in the basement all these years and I had no idea! And this person sure was interesting!

    The solitude soaked in all my tears so I could laugh again with people. It became my duvet in the winters, my picnic blanket in the summer. The solitude and I would often do karaoke at 7:00 on a Sunday morning till the neighbors started complaining. We went on bike trips together, dipped in cold lakes, went to eat at buffets, and sat through boring dates.

    It became my best friend when there was no one around. It taught me to write, to read, to think, to philosophize, to know what’s good for me, to love everyone unconditionally, and to be kind.

    It showed me things as they truly are and caught me when I was being judgmental. It took away my anger and my desperation. It carried my dreams and filled me with hope.

    Solitude has the power to teach us about ourselves. It is the gym where we must go to train.

    A century ago, people would look forward to solitary periods of relaxation on their porch after a long day of work. But today, we devote most of our conscious time to the pursuit of feeling connected with other people, either offline or online. A simple notification instantly pulls us away from the present moment. We are constantly everywhere but here and now. But our true self lives in the here and now, though we seem to spend less and less time with it.

    In the raw moments of loneliness that succeed a breakup or a bereavement, when we have nowhere to run, we encounter our true self. Like I did. And it was scary. It felt like sitting in the corner of a dungeon with a chain locked around my ankle as a stranger towered over me. I wanted to run away, but there was nowhere good enough to run to. I went scuba diving in the tropics, but my broken, ghost-of-a-self found me under water too.

    The key to cultivating fearlessness in these moments is getting to know yourself through solitude. It means deliberately taking time out to sit alone so you feel comfortable with yourself, connected to yourself, and at peace with yourself.

    To practice solitude, try this.

    1. Think of your favorite meditative activity.

    Ideally, it should involve interaction with physical objects, not digital ones. And definitely not a phone or something with a screen. It should be mundane and not involve rational thinking. This provides the ideal setting for your true self to emerge. An example is doing the dishes, focusing on your breath, or just sitting out in the garden, hearing and seeing what’s around you.

    2. Set aside a fixed time during the day.

    This is especially important if you are just starting out, because a strict regime is helpful to cultivate a habit. A good time is early in the morning. A recent study showed that early morning is the ideal time for alpha wave activity in the brain, which is associated with restful attentiveness. But depending on your schedule or your routine, any other time of the day is good enough to start with. Start with ten minutes and slowly make your way up to an hour. There’s no right or wrong duration, but the more the better.

    3. Start with an intention.

    Make a decision to consciously choose solitude. Embrace it like it’s your best friend. Know that it is good for you, that it is the right thing for you. That there is nothing better you’d rather do right now, and no one more important to talk to than yourself.

    Most importantly, don’t get too serious. Develop a sense of joy, a sense of humor about the whole thing.

    Sometimes it all may seem impossible, especially when painful memories and a sense of loss come back with profound pain. It may feel hopeless as the thoughts and feelings overwhelm you. But believe that those thoughts and feelings are like a movie playing in your head. They do not define your reality in the present moment. Do not let them consume you.

    Believe you are the mountain in the storm. And when the thoughts and feelings eventually pass, which they will, come back to your practice. Develop almost a blind devotion to it in the beginning, because it may take many sittings to feel the first signs of solidity and bliss coming back.

    If you are finding it tough to start by yourself, go to a local yoga or meditation class and work on your basic form. Then come back and try it again.

    4. Start enjoying your company whenever the opportunity arises.

    As you start building a regiment for solitude, you will start to appreciate moments to yourself. While you wait for your friend at the subway before you head to that party together. While you wait for your favorite burger to arrive after deciding to eat out by yourself.

    Think of those fleeting minutes as a gift, as an opportunity to see if you can appreciate the world around you. Wait before you flip out your phone or put on your music. Can you see how solid and calm you feel now, compared to before? How rich the world around you is? Give yourself a high-five for putting in all those hours of solitude practice.

    And if by chance that solitude is forced upon you by a tragedy or unforeseen event, even better! Because when your heart is broken it’s the most open, and ripe for new wisdom and the richness of the world to take root. Acclaimed author and Buddhist nun Pema Chödrön says, “To stay with that shakiness—to stay with a broken heart, with a rumbling stomach, with the feeling of hopelessness and wanting to get revenge—that is the path of true awakening,”

    Be deliberate. Be disciplined. And you will soon get to know the most interesting person you have ever met! One who will always be with you, no matter what else you lose.

  • 30 Self-Care Tips: How to Avoid Sickness, Burnout, and Exhaustion

    30 Self-Care Tips: How to Avoid Sickness, Burnout, and Exhaustion

    “Remember, you are your own best investment. Invest in yourself and your lifestyle. Quality of life is a key component in finding joy and maintaining self-confidence.” ~Akiroq Brost

    Do you ever sacrifice your own well-being to take care of others? If this sounds like you, chances are you are doing more harm than good.

    Think about when you get on an airplane. What’s the first thing they tell you?

    “In case of a loss of cabin pressure, please put your own oxygen mask on first and then assist your children or other passengers.”

    They tell you this because if you don’t take care of yourself first, you will pass out and die! You can only help others and save lives after you meet your own needs—not just in an emergency scenario, but also in your everyday life. This is where self-care comes in.

    I used to think it was selfish to prioritize my needs over the needs of others.

    I thought showing love for others meant that I had to continuously give of myself and put their needs ahead of my own. As a result, I constantly felt drained, fatigued, and exhausted. I had given all of myself away and there was nothing left for me.

    Not only was I working a highly stressful job in finance, I was also launching my personal training business, which required a combined eighty-five hours per week.

    To add insult to injury, I was pushing my body to its physical limits in the gym seven days a week and sleeping only four to six hours per night. As if this wasn’t enough, I was also trying to balance having a boyfriend, a social life, a family, and a kitten.

    At this stage in my life it was a common occurrence to collapse on top of my bed, clothes on, after a long day only to get up and repeat the cycle all over again. Eventually depression started to creep in, and I completely stopped doing anything for the sake of enjoyment; everything became goal oriented.

    I forgot who I was. I forget how to be happy. I didn’t see the value in taking time for myself to recharge, get in touch with my inner being, and assess what I really wanted out of life.

    I was solely focused on making money and pleasing others, trying to buy the love I didn’t deem myself worthy of on my own. It’s called the disease to please, and it will kill you if you let it.

    I kept this pace up for a period of two years with no vacation and few days off until I had no choice but to pull the brakes.

    My immune system suddenly shut down, and a barrage of illness and infection ensued. My goals of being the epitome of perfection and efficiency came to an abrupt halt. The disease to please had finally caught up with me.

    First I developed a potentially life-threatening case of pneumonia. Immediately after that I developed a staph infection in my neck that was literally the size of a golf ball! I then became so lethargic that getting out of bed became a huge challenge.

    This lasted for months.

    I had never felt so low in my life, and I knew I had to take this unfortunate series of events as an opportunity to grow and learn; otherwise, it would all be for nothing!

    This was a huge kick in the pants telling me to SLOW DOWN TIM, TAKE SOME TIME FOR YOURSELF!

    Finally I had gotten the message, and I knew it was time to take a step back to re-evaluate my lifestyle choices, motivations, and habits.

    How could I expect to help others when I wasn’t taking care of myself? I was putting myself last. And that helps no one!

    I knew it was time to stop sacrificing myself and start practicing some serious self-care.

    Stop Extreme Burnout and Exhaustion Before it Stops You

    If you neglect yourself for an extended period of time you will experience extreme burnout. This is when you push yourself so hard that you literally can’t go on anymore and you just collapse.

    If you are concerned about extreme burnout, here are some signs you might be at risk:

    • You are so completely exhausted by the end of the day that you collapse on the couch and fall asleep without realizing it.
    • By the end of the week you are so fatigued you can hardly get out of bed in the morning.
    • You sleep an inordinate amount of time during the weekend just to feel normal again.
    • No matter how much sleep you get, you wake up exhausted.
    • Caffeine is a necessity to wake up and get through the day.
    • You often work so hard you forget to eat.
    • You have extreme cravings for junk food and eat excessive amounts of sugar for energy.
    • You binge on Netflix and other distractions to avoid being alone with your thoughts.

    If you find you are at risk of burnout, or just feel you want to take better care of yourself, self-care is the answer you are looking for.

    What Exactly is Self-Care?

    Initially I had a lot of misconceptions about self-care; I thought it was about being eternally happy all the time. Then I realized it’s actually impossible to be happy all the time and suffering is a necessary part of life that is required for personal growth.

    True self-care strengthens and deepens our connection with ourselves so we can understand how to meet our needs from a mental, emotional, and physical standpoint.

    Self-care builds your connection with who you are at the core of your being so that when the tides of life get rough, you are anchored and don’t get swept away.

    It helps you to not sweat the small stuff and prevents burnout and exhaustion. Ultimately, a self-care practice will allow you to understand yourself, find your passion and purpose, and take you on the path to live a fulfilled life.

    It’s not easy to break bad habits, especially if you’ve spent years putting other people’s needs before your own. Here are some tips on how you can start to treat yo’self!

    Self-Care Ideas for Mental Health

    • Relax and allow yourself to do nothing (no cellphones allowed!)
    • Meditate
    • Read an educational book with a focus on personal growth
    • Listen to an educational podcast (news is not included as educational)
    • Play with your pet
    • Cuddle your significant other
    • Do something that makes you smile
    • Create something artistic or play an instrument
    • Listen to music you love
    • Practice gratitude with a gratitude journal

    Self-Care Ideas for Emotional Health

    • Forgive someone you have been holding a grudge against
    • Do something that’s scared you that you’ve always wanted to do
    • Focus on your own needs and goals instead of comparing yourself to others
    • Practice compassion for yourself
    • Take a break from social media
    • Allow yourself to feel your feelings instead of running from them or distracting yourself
    • Read a fictional book that lifts your spirits
    • Take a break from technology—unplug
    • Help someone and don’t expect anything in return
    • Practice positive affirmations (Example: You are enough just as you are right now in this moment.)
    • Write down a few things you appreciate about yourself

    Self-Care Ideas for Physical Health

    • Practice deep breathing
    • Move to music you love
    • Get adequate sleep
    • Lift weights
    • Walk
    • Play a sport
    • Go outside—get some sunlight on your skin
    • Try yoga or another mindful movement practice (also good for your mental health)
    • Eat healthfully (fruits and veggies, unrefined foods)
    • Look in a mirror and love your body as it is right now, without judgment

    How a Daily Self-Care Practice Changed My Life

    Self-care saved me from extreme burnout. It wasn’t easy to slow down and find time for myself throughout the day, so instead, I get up early and devote one hour of time to myself.

    I created a daily self-care routine that starts my day off on a positive note. This positivity bleeds over into other aspects of my life, and it’s been life-changing.

    I used to be miserable getting up for work in the morning. Now getting up is enjoyable because I have something to look forward to like going to the gym, listening to a podcast, or meditating. I’ve noticed I’m generally happier and filled with a sense of gratitude for my blessings in life.

    I also lost twelve pounds in eight weeks, even after reducing the amount of time I spent in the gym, by reducing daily stress triggers and practicing healthful eating. Previously, I’d put a lot of stress on my body with my lifestyle and excessive working out. This stress created a hormone response in the body that actually made me gain fat instead of losing it!

    My big weight loss secret: stress reduction, moderate exercise, and mindful eating! It also helps that I’ve shifted my mindset; whereas I used to work out just to look hot, I now focus on my health and aging gracefully.

    My gratitude practice is another important part of my daily self-care routine. By practicing gratitude I’m able to find more moments of joy in my daily life and I’m much more attentive to those I love. With mindfulness and meditation practice I experience less anxiety, stress, and negative thinking.

    Self-care has allowed me to be aware of the constant neurotic thought patterns I’ve developed that hold me back and make me feel inadequate or like I don’t measure up. I can see more clearly how these patterns are essentially bad habits.

    And just like any bad habit? They can be broken! It’s been a huge confidence booster.

    Mindfulness helped me identify and overcome fear and self-doubt and work up the courage to start following my passion of writing and helping others after years of telling myself I wasn’t good enough.

    And here we are today!

    If you are like me and you take care of everyone in your life except for yourself, I implore you to try some of the thirty self-care tips I shared above. It really is of the utmost importance not only for your own health, but for the health and well-being of everyone you care about as well.

    I know it’s hard to find time for self-care; that’s why I recommend scheduling one hour of time every single day just for you. Self-care might seem silly or frivolous, but it literally saved my life.

    And it just might do the same for you!

  • The Childhood Wounds We All Carry and How to Heal Our Pain

    The Childhood Wounds We All Carry and How to Heal Our Pain

    “As traumatized children, we always dreamed that someone would come and save us. We never dreamed that it would, in fact, be ourselves as adults.” ~Alice Little

    Like most people, I used to run away from my pain.

    I did it in lots of different and creative ways.

    I would starve myself and only focus on what I could and couldn’t eat based on calories.

    I would make bad choices for myself and then struggle with the consequences, not realizing that I had made any choice at all. It all just seemed like bad luck. Really bad luck.

    Or I would stay in unhealthy relationships of any kind and endure the stress that was causing. Again, I didn’t see what I was contributing or how I was not only keeping my pain going but actually adding to it.

    These are just a few examples of the many ways I ran away from my pain. The real pain. The one below it all. The one that started it all. The core wound.

    The wound of unworthiness and unlovability.

    The wound that stems from my childhood.

    And my parents’ childhoods.

    And their parents’ childhoods.

    But this is not a piece on how it all got started or who is to blame.

    No. This is about me wanting to share how I got rid of my pain.

    Because discovering how to do that changed my life in ways I never thought possible.

    It is something I would love for you to experience too because life can be beautiful no matter what has happened in the past. I don’t want you to miss out on this opportunity. Especially because I know it is possible for you too.

    Hands on the table, I am a psychotherapist and I have been for almost ten years. I also train and supervise other psychotherapists, so I should know what I’m talking about.

    But, let me fill you in on this: There are plenty of professionals who haven’t done ‘the work’ on themselves. I know, I’ve met them.

    And I have met hundreds of people who don’t have any qualifications, but they have done the work on themselves. I know, I’ve felt them.

    Doing the work, in the shortest possible summary, is all about facing your pain. It’s when you stop—or when you’re forced to stop, which is so often the case—and you’re done with running away from it.

    It’s when you finally give up.

    Sounds like a bad thing, right? But it isn’t.

    To heal, you have to see the pain.

    We all think we see it or feel it or know it, but we don’t.

    We know what it feels like to run away from it and the pain and stress that causes. The constant anxiety, the pressure, the breathlessness, the numbness. That’s what we know.

    But that’s not the pain, not the pain of the core wound. Those are the symptoms of not dealing with the wound, of not healing it because you’re too afraid to even look.

    It’s fear that stops us from healing.

    It’s not the process of healing itself that scares us; it’s what we imagine healing means. And it usually is nothing like we imagine it to be!

    Healing just means facing the pain.

    Let me try to make it more practical:

    Do you remember a time when you were very little, maybe three or five, or maybe a little older?

    Do you remember, in your body, how it felt to be misunderstood? How to want something and then not get it? How to be punished for something you didn’t do? How to be shouted at for no reason at all just because someone else was stressed out and couldn’t control themselves?

    Do you remember how that felt?

    I do.

    That’s the origin. All those little incidents when we were too young to understand what was going on, but we made it mean something negative about ourselves.

    Because what was reflected back to us by the world, by the people we loved the most, was that something was wrong with us, that in some way we were flawed, wrong, or bad.

    Our brains were too young to take a different perspective, to defend ourselves from unfair judgments and punishments, and so we took it all in.

    And believing something horrible about yourself that isn’t true hurts. Believing that you’re not good enough hurts. Believing that you’re unlovable hurts.

    It also scares us, and so we no longer feel safe.

    Safe to be ourselves. Safe to love. Safe to be loved.

    We start to hide from ourselves and our pain. We start to hide our truth and inhibit the great humans that we actually are.

    Because in those moments, those moments of misunderstanding, we receive the wrong message—that we are not worthy of being heard, trusted, held, or loved.

    We are pushed away, through being ignored, threatened, or punished.

    And then we start doing that to ourselves.

    We want or need something—just like we needed it then when it was inconvenient to a parent who shouted at us and invalidated what we wanted or needed—and we deny it or minimize it.

    We want to say “enough” and set a boundary with someone—just like we wanted to when we were little but were told we didn’t know what was good for us—but we don’t do it.

    We want to choose what we like or are excited by—just like we tried to when we were young but were told we were being stupid, childish, or silly—but then go for the boring, reasonable option instead.

    We carry the pain on.

    We don’t stop to ask ourselves whether that’s actually what we should be doing.

    We try to avoid re-experiencing the pain from our childhood by treating ourselves in exactly the same ways as we were treated back then.

    We don’t realize that we’re keeping that usually unconscious pattern going.

    The most obvious example I can give you from my life is that I didn’t grow up surrounded by emotionally available adults. So obviously I didn’t become one either. I wasn’t emotionally available to myself, and I didn’t choose emotionally available partners in my relationships.

    As a result, I got to relive my childhood experiences over and over again while not understanding why I kept feeling so depressed, unloved, and worthless.

    I kept the pain going by being closed off to how I was feeling and by choosing partners who would shame, reject, or ignore me and my feelings the same way my parents had.

    But I broke that cycle.

    I broke it when I faced my pain.

    I broke it when I stayed within myself when I felt something, no matter what it was.

    When I felt disappointed that I didn’t get the grade I wanted on an important university assignment, I stayed with that disappointment.

    I didn’t talk myself out of it. I didn’t talk down to myself and tell myself what a useless waste of space I was. I didn’t pity myself or blame my lecturer. I didn’t numb myself by binge-watching Netflix and eating chocolate.

    No, I stayed with the disappointment.

    It was like I was sitting opposite my disappointed three-year-old self, and I stayed with her.

    I didn’t shout, mock her, invalidate her, leave her, or make her wrong for feeling how she was feeling.

    I stayed with her. I saw her disappointment. I saw her pain. I knew what she was making it mean and I stayed with her.

    I didn’t push her away. I didn’t push the pain away.

    And guess what happened?

    It started to speak to me! And it made sense!

    It wasn’t scary or weird or awkward or crazy! It made complete sense.

    And it needed me to hear it, to understand it, and to parent it.

    Just like I parent my children.

    “Of course, you feel disappointed. You have put so much work into this, and you didn’t get the result you wanted. I get it. I’m here to listen to you. I want to understand you.”

    Do you know what that does? It calms you down. Truly.

    It calms you down. It’s such a relief!

    Finally, someone wants to listen! Finally, someone doesn’t turn away from me like I am the biggest threat they have ever encountered. Finally, someone looks at me with understanding and compassion.

    This is what I do with all of my feelings.

    If there is jealousy, I am there for it. I’m not shaming it, not judging it—I’m just here to listen, to soothe, to understand, and to act on it if it feels like that’s what it needs.

    So I turn toward the pain, the feeling; I try to understand what it’s all about and see if there is anything it needs from me, something more practical.

    Does my disappointment need me to ask my lecturer for feedback to improve my work for the next assessment?

    Does my jealousy need me to remind myself how worthy and lovable I am? Or does it need me to choose something beautiful for me to wear because I’ve not really paid that much attention to my appearance recently? Or does it need to speak to my partner because he’s much friendlier with other women than he is with me?

    A lot of the time the pain tries to alert us to doing something we need to do for ourselves.

    By not facing the pain, by not tending to it, we can’t know what it is that it needs us to do—and it’s always something that’s good for us.

    And so we go without what we want and need, and the pain only grows bigger and louder like the tantruming toddler that is only trying to express herself in an attempt to be heard, held, soothed, and taken care of by their parent.

    It’s time to stop doing that to ourselves.

    I did many years ago, and I feel like a different person. The way I live my life is different. The way I feel about myself is different. I no longer go without what I want and need.

    That can’t happen as long as you use up all your energy to run away from the pain.

    The pain is your invitation to do the healing work. It invites you to stay and listen, to find out what’s really going on below all distractions and symptoms.

    What is the feeling that needs to be felt?

    What is the pain that needs to be witnessed and understood?

    And what does it need you to do for it so the core wound can finally heal?

    You have the power to heal it. You are the only one you need to heal it. But you have got to stay and learn to be there for it, learn to be there for yourself.

    That’s it.

    Unlike other people, you don’t walk away. You don’t say no to yourself. You don’t go against yourself and make yourself wrong.

    You stay. You feel it. You give it what it needs.

    And that’s when it heals.

  • Dear Everyone Who Tells Me I Should Reconcile with My Parents

    Dear Everyone Who Tells Me I Should Reconcile with My Parents

    “You are allowed to terminate your relationship with toxic family members. You are allowed to walk away from people who hurt you. You don’t owe anyone an explanation for taking care of yourself.” ~Unknown

    You might think I’m a monster because I don’t have a relationship with my parents. I don’t spend holidays with them; I don’t call them and reminisce; they don’t know pertinent details about my life, my friends, my family, my work, or even the person I have become. Do these facts shock you?

    It is possible that you have only known loving, supportive parents. Parents who were open to discussing and negotiating your relationship, respecting your boundaries, and truly being a part of your life. That’s probably why you can’t understand how I don’t feel the same way about my parents.

    When you learn that I don’t have a relationship with my parents your instinct is to deny my reality. You try to tell me that my parents love me unconditionally, that my mother still cares about me, and that my parents acted out of love for me. You assert that I should try and reconcile with my family, and tell me over and over that I will regret it if I don’t.

    I don’t agree that they love me unconditionally, that they still care about me, that their actions are based on good intentions, or that they abused me in order to make me a better person. I am sorry if this upsets you or challenges your understanding of what a family looks like.

    You become aggressive telling me that I should try harder, that I should adapt and be accommodating and compassionate toward my parents. You tell me that I should forgive them for the things I claim they have done to me and tell me over and over that forgiveness will lead to peace and healing.

    But you don’t get it; I have already healed by not having them in my life, by accepting my painful reality.

    You think that I should call my parents and have a reasonable conversation that would magically lead to a Hollywood ending filled with apologies, validation, love, and reconciliation. You believe that if I do this, I will have the family I have always wanted, and our relationship will be stronger, healthier, and more supportive.

    I need to stop you and be firm. Your lack of understanding about my situation is re-traumatizing me. I cannot contact my parents and reconcile with them. Do you think I didn’t try to have the conversations that you’re suggesting? Don’t you realize that I tried so hard to adapt, to do what they wanted, to apologize and accommodate my parents, yet nothing ever changed? I was never enough!

    Each interaction affirmed how much they despised me, how little they thought of me, and how reluctant they were to listen to me, get to know me more, or even to take the time to understand where I am coming from. Over and over, I tried harder and harder, my heart breaking each time. The picture of the perfect family shattering off the wall and the reality of my family becoming clearer and clearer.

    These were not parents who loved me unconditionally the way parents should love their child. These were parents that might love me if I was better at school, did more for them around the house, and accomplished something they could brag about to elevate their own social position.

    These were not parents who could be bothered to get to know the person I had become, because they believed they knew the flawed, evil monster they had conjured up in their minds. Yet I was not the evil monster; I was an adult child desperate to have a healthy relationship with my parents. I was a teenager who made a few mistakes, and finally I was an adult who saw and understood the family dynamics clearly and accurately.

    Cutting contact with my parents was one of the hardest choices I have ever had to make in my life. Contrary to what you may think, I did not wake up one morning and decide that I did not want to have a family anymore. Rather, I woke up one morning and realized that if I didn’t end the relationship, I would continue to get hurt by my parents for the rest of my life.

    Cutting contact with my parents, formally known as estrangement, allowed me to accept the reality of my situation and build a life that led to self-validation and healing.

    This path has been painful, and there are times when I question whether I did the right thing. However, there are also times when I realize how much better my life is without my parents’ lack of compassion, respect for my boundaries, or willingness to work with me to have a healthy relationship.

    Each time you cling to the Hollywood notion of reconciliation, you traumatize me. I know that I can’t have a relationship with my parents because this relationship will never be healthy. Yet each time you suggest I reconcile you cause me to question myself.

    Questioning myself is something I have grown good at over the years because society does not affirm my choice as socially acceptable, nor does it condone the reasons I chose to cut contact in the first place.

    Questioning myself and my own self-worth is something my parents helped me to become very good at over the years. You see, I couldn’t be doing what was best for me because to them, I was wrong, I was a bad person, and I never remembered situations and events accurately.

    Maybe you don’t mean to cause me to question myself, but each time you bring up reconciliation and the notion that the relationship with my family could be fixed it takes me back into that space. I’m forced to remind myself of all the reasons why I had to cut contact. I’m forced to relive the painful conversations and the intense, overwhelming longing for apologies, validation, and love I know I will never get from my parents.

    Before you tell me I need to see things differently and that most relationships can be fixed, I’m going to stop you. I’m going to remind you that it is hard for people to change. It is much easier for people to say that they have changed in order to save face or absolve themselves of any feelings of guilt and anguish.

    People don’t change for others; they change for themselves because they realize that there are benefits to adjusting their behavior. An uncaring, disconnected parent is not likely to change for a child they never really could love.

    I know that my choices make you feel uncomfortable. I took your family picture and I broke it into a million pieces, pieces that can never be put back together. I challenged your notions of the loving, supportive, forgiving family because that is not my reality, although for your sake, I am glad if that is yours.

    Don’t tell me that time can heal all wounds or that time fixes relationships. Time has taught me that I made the right choice.

    Incredible longing still washes over me when I see some of you interacting with your parents. You have support, love, and mentorship from your family that I will never know. Instead, I will look through the window at the seemingly perfect family, at your family, longing to know what it feels like to be loved and supported the way that you are.

    I will always feel the pain of not having that picture as my own. Part of me will always question why I was not worthy enough to have it in the first place. A piece of my heart will ache with pangs of longing, longing I have learned and accepted is a natural part of life when you don’t have parents who are loving and supportive.

    Don’t downplay my pain or deny my lived experiences. Don’t tell me that how I feel now will not be the same way I feel six months or six years from now. I don’t mean to be harsh, but you have not lived my life or walked in my shoes, and I am relieved for you.

    Don’t remind me that my siblings have a great relationship with my parents, so therefore, I might be able to improve my relationship with them.

    Let me remind you that in families like mine, not all children are treated the same way

    Some children are the golden children, showered with love and support, while others are the neglected children who are barely noticed yet continue to maintain contact in the hopes that one day the relationship will improve. Other children within the toxic family system are scapegoats. Scapegoats are not really loved, and are blamed for things beyond their control.

    In adulthood, some children in these families choose to deny the reality of the dysfunction because society teaches us that everyone needs a family. They choose to hang on and stay in touch with uncaring parents because the alternative choice is so stigmatizing and painful.

    Stop! Don’t remind me of the way my mother acted when you were over at my house growing up. Don’t tell me that she treated you well over the years and was very interested/invested in your life. Please don’t tell me she asks about me every time she sees you or that she has no idea why I cut contact with her.

    I don’t want to hear about how kind my father was. I don’t want to relive backyard barbecues where my parents acted kind and hospitable. You see, they acted.

    Toxic parents can often be kind, compassionate, and caring to everyone else except for their own children. Behind closed doors, when you and the rest of the world were not watching, they were very different people.

    You may have seen them treating me with kindness or pretending that they cared. This was all an act. I don’t want to show you who they really were behind closed doors because I doubt that you will believe me. I know this makes it harder to understand my perspective, but I don’t want to live in the pain of the past. I want to dwell in the present and look to the future with an open heart and an optimistic mind.

    Let me reiterate this: the choice not to have family is both stigmatizing and painful. The pain and stigma flow from not being understood. From assumptions that there must be something wrong with me for cutting contact, that I must be inherently bad or have done something catastrophic to deserve to be cast out of the family.

    Let me shatter that picture again. The only thing I did wrong is challenge your understanding of a loving supportive family.

    Let me ask you something: If your friend criticized and judged everything you did and did not accept you as a person, would you stay friends with that person?

    What if I told you that after interactions with that friend you were anxious, your entire body hurt, you felt like you did something wrong, you couldn’t sleep, and you questioned your judgment? You replayed the interaction over and over in your head each time, remembering more of the abusive comments, the judgmental actions, and the dismissive words you had endured during your visit.

    Could you really stay friends with that person? No, you couldn’t. So why are you encouraging me to reconcile and stay in contact with my parents given that this is how they make me feel? Is it so hard for you to grasp that an unhealthy relationship can occur between family members?

    Hold on tight to your family picture, but don’t ask me to repair mine. Instead, understand and accept my shattered picture.

    Don’t ask me to cut myself with the shards of glass through forgiveness, reconciliation, and false hopes of unconditional love and acceptance. I’m sorry if what I’ve said makes you feel uncomfortable. Society makes me feel uncomfortable each time I am asked to deny my reality, pick up a piece of glass, and expose my family wound that you could easily help me heal by accepting it.

  • How to Enjoy Life Without Buying Lots of Stuff

    How to Enjoy Life Without Buying Lots of Stuff

    “Minimalism isn’t about removing the things you love. It’s about removing the things that distract you from the things you love.” ~Joshua Becker

    Over the recent few years of being a digital nomad, I got a chance to live in Spain, Sri Lanka, Mexico, and Canada for a month or longer. As I didn’t have a home base and only had one medium-sized suitcase with me (still do), I couldn’t really afford to buy new things.

    I mean, I would need to put them somewhere, and my suitcase is already over forty-five pounds while most airlines only allow up to fifty.

    Even when I had to go back to my home country and stay there for almost a year because of the pandemic, I knew I’d be on the road again as soon as possible. So I continued to not buy anything other than essential things.

    I was never a shopaholic before, but I still felt miserable wearing the same few-year-old clothes and watching my friends (not even mentioning social media influencers I follow) regularly enjoy new things.

    I didn’t realize that more often than not we only buy things to fill a void or to relieve stress, not necessarily because we actually need or even want them. As soon as I figured that out, I started looking for alternative ways to fill my days with joy that didn’t involve buying new stuff.

    Today I want to share four things that I’m buying now when I want to feel better, which don’t occupy any space in my suitcase!

    1. Online courses

    Maybe it’s just me, but courses that teach me new skills are my favorite things ever! Even my husband knows that giving me a course as a gift will always make me happy.

    I have a ton of hobbies and things that I’m interested in, and each of them could become a full-time thing if I wanted it to. So there is no lack of information to keep learning.

    For example, last year I was into photography and took a bunch of courses on the subject. I learned mobile photography, then normal photography, and even some videography. I studied lots of related things including photo and video editing and even dipped my toes into stock photography.

    This year I’m learning digital illustration. YouTube and Skillshare are my two best friends right now and would probably be the most visited websites in my free time if I were to track my web activity. It just makes me so happy to ace a new thing I couldn’t imagine creating before!

    Honestly, I could never understand people who get bored staying alone at home and don’t know what to do. I wish I had another twenty-four hours in my day just to fit in all the things I want to learn!

    Besides, investing in yourself is never a bad idea. You never know where your new skills might appear useful on your life journey.

    2. Experiences

    You might say that it’s easy to find new experiences when you are traveling, and that’s true. I often go on walking tours, participate in cooking classes, and find other interesting things that my next country has to offer.

    But if you think I didn’t invest in experiences when I wasn’t a nomad, you are wrong.

    My favorite kind was always visiting an escape room. If you aren’t familiar with the concept, it’s a quest where you go into a room full of hints and puzzles, solving which leads you to the next one, and so on until the final thing gives you a key or something to escape the room. Usually, there is a specific theme for the room, you have one hour to escape, and there can be more than one actual room involved.

    Over the years, with my friends and coworkers, I went to almost every room that existed in my city at the time (which is a lot). Some were very easy; some were so hard that we didn’t get out on time. I remember the one which was absolutely dark and another one where they put chains around your ankles and wrists at the beginning, which you have to get out of.

    The feeling of nailing another quest room can hardly compare to anything else; it’s like actually being in an adventurous book for an hour. If you happen to be a nerd and avid reader like me, you know what I mean.

    Meaningful experiences strengthen your relationships and create memories for years to come. Do you remember every shirt you buy or reminisce about it with friends? I doubt that!

    3. Little gifts for friends

    This one is a bit of a cheat, as you might actually get to buy a physical thing.

    But, instead of it piling up in your closet, you give it away and feel good about it. Your friend is happy, you are happy, and your home doesn’t get cluttered. Not bad, huh?

    Just make sure to only buy things your loved ones actually want so they don’t start hating you for cluttering their home. Especially if your friend happens to be a minimalist.

    Wanna know my approach to always giving really good gifts? I swear by wishlists!

    I have had one for many years, and I made each of my friends and family members make one. Not everyone likes the idea at first, but I promise you, everyone loves getting specific things they want as presents! And don’t worry, it can still be a surprise, especially if their wishlist is long enough.

    To support the idea of having less stuff, encourage your friends to add items to their wishlists that aren’t physical things. About two-thirds of my own wishlist consists of specific online courses I’d love to take, new experiences I wish to try one day, and gift cards for fun things like massages and yoga classes.

    When it comes to hobbies and lifestyle choices, people usually know exactly what they want, and you can never go wrong with a wishlist. Without it, unless you know for sure all the details, it’s easy to gift someone a book they already have or a course that is too beginner-oriented (or too advanced) for their level. If you have doubts, better buy them a gift card to their favorite store or learning platform, so they can choose a specific item themselves.

    If you think you need to wait for a holiday or a birthday to give someone a gift, think again!

    The best presents are unexpected ones. Try surprising your friend with something they want for no particular reason, and just see how excited they get! They will feel loved and valued, which is something we can all benefit from.

    And as for you, the process of finding a perfect gift and seeing your friend genuinely enjoying it releases dopamine and endorphins, which basically make you feel happier. Win-win!

    4. eBooks

    The last thing on the list of things I still buy is eBooks.

    I am the person who used to read 100+ books per year and had a full bookcase at home. Now I travel with my tiny Kindle and am more mindful about what I’m reading.

    With that said, I still love the smell of real books and the feeling of actually turning pages! I still have a few of my favorite bookmarks. But I only buy digital books as it would be impossible to travel with “real” ones. I wish I had Hermione’s handbag with an extension charm on it, but sadly I don’t.

    I know many people these days don’t read books. With so many kinds of easily digestible visual content options we have online now, books became something of an old era. However, the process of reading still has a ton of health benefits: from improving your concentration skills and vocabulary to releasing stress and anxiety that is a constant problem in most of our lives.

    Nothing else can take your mind off your routines and worries quite as an interesting book can. It may only weigh a few kilobytes, but it has a whole world inside.

    —

    These were my four things to buy that won’t ever clutter your life! They might, however, make a big impact on your self-development, make you smarter, improve your skills and mental health, and make you happier. Not a bad deal, is it? Especially for things that don’t take up any space.

    I hope you can agree with me now that it’s possible to live happily without buying new stuff all the time. I am not exactly a minimalist, but I like the idea of surrounding yourself with things that bring you joy instead of cluttering your life with things that only bring you instant gratification and then get forgotten.

    Try to fill your days with fun experiences and learning new skills, as your memories and abilities are things you can always take with you, wherever you go.

  • How Weight and Food Obsessions Disconnect Us and Why This Is So Harmful

    How Weight and Food Obsessions Disconnect Us and Why This Is So Harmful

    “We are hard-wired to connect with others, it’s what gives purpose and meaning to our lives, and without it, there is suffering.” ~Brené Brown

    I was inducted into diet culture in my early teens and then into the health and fitness industry in my early thirties, when my “fitness journey” had finally really taken off, and I ultimately became a personal trainer and nutrition and wellness coach.

    Once we’ve given enough years of our life to diet culture, many of us begin to recognize the ways that it’s harming us and all the things it’s stealing from us.

    Peace of mind. Self-worth and self-trust. Mental, emotional, and physical health and well-being.

    My grandmother’s cookies.

    The ability to just eat and enjoy food without fear.

    Self-respect.

    Body trust.

    But we don’t notice all the ways “health and fitness” are promoted in our culture and how they do the same thing. And there are so many other things it steals from us that we often don’t think about or notice.

    One of the biggest examples of this for me, and the women I work with, was connection.

    Connection with myself and connection with others.

    I didn’t start losing my ability to connect because of my induction into diet culture. That started earlier as a result of growing up with an abusive, alcoholic father.

    But those industries preyed on it, fueled it, flamed it, and then ran away with it for decades.

    Feeling connected is a core human need. According to Maslow’s hierarchy of needs, love and belonging are right up there after things like food, water, and safety.

    We are hardwired to connect.

    Recent research has suggested that the brain processes the pain of feeling disconnected or rejected the same way it processes physical pain. Nearly every aspect of our health and well-being relies on connection.

    And while it may seem like we’re constantly connected, especially now through things like social media or video calls, it’s not actually the case.

    Loneliness has been on the rise, worldwide.

    Chatting about what food we should or shouldn’t eat; commiserating over how much we hate our bodies, how much weight we gained, the latest diet attempt we just failed; bragging about how we did in the gym, how much weight we lost, how many steps we took, or how “clean” we’re eating—this isn’t connection. It’s not connecting with others, and it’s definitely not connecting with ourselves.

    In fact, those things keep us from being able to connect with ourselves because we’re so focused on controlling external “shoulds.”

    We may form friendships around those things, but they aren’t based on genuine connections.

    Curating the picture-perfect Instagram feed, gathering around mutually hated or demonized “others,” and sharing memes or videos of the latest TikTok trend are also not the same as real, genuine human connections.

    It’s all just filling space with mindless, external distractions.

    It’s not truly allowing ourselves to be raw, real, and vulnerable. To be seen, heard, and valued for who we uniquely are as individuals—not just the perfectly curated image we present to the world but the messy, raw, and real parts we try so hard to hide.

    The parts we fear make us most undeserving of love and belonging.

    I certainly hid behind many of those things. I used them as a cover, as a tool to hide behind. A mask. A role I played, behind which I could feel (somewhat) safely tucked away and protected.

    My “passion for health and fitness” allowed me to play the badass.

    (In reality, I was scared all the time.)

    It allowed me to play the inspirational “success” story.

    (In reality, I was terrified of putting an ounce of weight back on because I desperately craved the praise and validation I was receiving. And it was destroying my mental, emotional, and physical health and well-being).

    The strong, fearless, confident “fitness freak” that could do anything she put her mind to.

    (Which, in reality, hid the fact that I was so scared and emotionally fragile and felt so broken that I needed the physical strength I could build through exercise just to get through the day.)

    I was good at these roles. I loved these roles, at least in the early years.

    Just be what people expected. Be what I’d seen get celebrated in others. Easy, right? Sure, until it isn’t.

    The longer I wore the mask, the more it started to hurt.

    The harder I worked to keep up those appearances, to maintain that external image of perfection through my body and what I was eating, the more damage it was doing.

    Externally, I was doing everything “right.”

    In reality? I ended up a binge eater, bulimic, clinically depressed, and living with generalized anxiety disorder and panic attacks. For many reasons, not the least of which because I was completely disconnected—from myself, my body, and from others.

    I was so focused on trying to be something I thought I was supposed to be, so I’d be liked, admired, impressive, that I lost who I was and what I needed.

    I lost what truly mattered to me and in life.

    I lost the ability to trust myself, to trust others, to let them in and truly see me.

    In fact, I was terrified of being really seen.

    Because I didn’t like myself and I didn’t believe anyone else would either if they knew the real me.

    So I hid behind what my body looked like. My external strength. The image I built.

    Holy cow, it got exhausting. And soul-crushing.

    You simply cannot simultaneously spend your life worried about what other people think about you (or your body), trying to micro-manage and control the image you project, and also be truly connected to yourself and others in any meaningful way. 

    Because in order to keep up those appearances, you have to actively work to hide parts of yourself—large parts of yourself that you’re terrified will be seen if you dare take off the mask.

    If you’re actively hiding parts of yourself, you’re not able to truly feel seen, heard, and valued… because you are hidden away. Locked in some dark, dusty corner of your inner world, and in my case, stuffed down with food.

    After a while, I didn’t even remember who I was. My identity became so wrapped up in who I thought I was (a worthless failure who was completely undeserving of love or acceptance) and who I was trying to be (the perfect, badass inspiration) to hide it, that I was lost.

    And completely disconnected. From myself and others.

    What I wanted or needed didn’t matter because my entire existence was being driven by fear and the disconnection that causes.

    Fear of rejection and abandonment if I stopped playing the role.

    Fear of weight gain and not looking “good enough.” Fear of not being good enough. Fear of what the binge eating was doing to my health. Fear of what would happen if I stopped micro-managing every morsel of food I ate and just trusted myself with food.

    Fear of judgment.

    And every time I turned around, there were diet, “health and wellness” cultures swooping in and stoking those fears.

    Eventually, I recognized that I couldn’t keep it up. I couldn’t keep playing the role. I was too tired, and it had completely broken me. I couldn’t keep caring about trying to be impressive or accepted. I had to start caring about being healthy and at peace with myself.

    In order to do that, I needed to find my way back to myself. I needed to shut out the garbage that was keeping me disconnected and learn how to connect.

    First with myself, because how could I ever truly connect with others if I didn’t even know who I was when I wasn’t playing the role?

    And how could I heal all that weight and food stuff if I stayed in the fear and obsession that kept me so disconnected from myself?

    I couldn’t.

    So I started working on being present with myself, not an easy feat when you don’t much like yourself. But required, nonetheless.

    I started getting curious and practiced connecting with my body, my thoughts, my emotions, my needs… my inner world.

    Who was I, really?

    What really mattered to me in life?

    Forget what I thought I should eat or do… what did I need?

    Was I really put here to spend my life hating myself, obsessing over these things that are destroying me, distrusting myself, and fearing real, meaningful connection with others?

    What if I could find a way to unconditionally accept myself and my body? How would that change the way I treated it and showed up in the world?

    What did I want to eat? Forget what I was “supposed to” eat; what did I want? How were the foods I was eating making me feel? How did I want to feel in my body?

    Forget what it was supposed to look like or weigh; how did I want it to feel to live in? How were my thoughts and conditioned patterns with food and exercise impacting that? Were they helping or harming? How could I learn to change them if they weren’t?

    And I started practicing being more intentional with my thoughts, beliefs, and actions. Intentionally making choices that were loving and kind, that helped me feel better, in general and about myself. Anything that wasn’t helping me live or feel better, and more connected with myself, could have no place in my world anymore.

    Once I started feeling deeply connected with myself and my body, I slowly started working on learning to connect with others.

    That’s still something I find difficult and am learning to do, but I’m still practicing. In baby steps.

    Because what I learned when I started reconnecting with myself was how much living with an alcoholic father impacted me as an adult.

    It taught me that not only is the world scary, but people are. They’re scary and unpredictable. It also created abandonment issues, and it’s where the fear of not being good enough, and the feeling that I needed to play a role to be loved or accepted, had actually begun. No wonder I had so much trouble connecting.

    I share this story because I’ve come to realize that most of us have an underlying fear around not being good enough that started in childhood for one reason or another. And those predatory industries sneak into every corner of our world, capitalizing on our fear with broken promises that do nothing but make things worse.

    The weight and food obsessions are a diversion.

    A socially acceptable, surface-level distraction that keeps us so externally focused and consumed that we spend most of our adult lives not even knowing that we’re disconnected—or that we’re living in fear and we’re just trying to “fix it” by making ourselves feel more socially acceptable.

    All while disconnecting us more and more. From ourselves and others.

    Because we’re hiding behind diversions and masks.

    Well, my mask is finally off.

    Under it, I have belly rolls. I have wrinkles. I have gray hair. I dye it because I prefer dark hair, but sometimes I put it off and rock a solid skunk stripe of gray down the middle of my head.

    Like all bodies, mine changes.

    None of that means I let myself go. It means I let myself just be.

    I’ve overcome a lot of things in my life, but still struggle with some others.

    I screw up a lot, even fail sometimes. Often, actually.

    I’m exceptionally good at some things and full-on suck at even more.

    I can’t do everything myself. Sometimes I need help and support. I’m still not very good at asking for it, but I’m working on it.

    All of that simply means that like you, I’m human. And I cannot connect with myself or anyone else if I’m trying so hard to be impressive that I’m not being real.

    So I don’t anymore.

  • Why I Broke Down Mentally While Striving for Work/Life Balance

    Why I Broke Down Mentally While Striving for Work/Life Balance

    “Maybe it’s time for the fighter to be fought for, the holder to be held, and the lover to be loved.” ~Unknown

    I was breastfeeding my infant son when he bit me. That bite set the stage for a deeper unraveling then I could have ever imagined.

    I unlatched him, handed him to my husband, and got in my car. As I was driving I began to lose the feeling in my hands and feet. My vision started to blur, and my breathing was fast and shallow. I was terrified I was not going to make it back home. I pleaded with the powers that be to allow me to safely pull over to the side of the road.

    I was about a mile away from our house, but that mile felt like eternity. My vision continued to blur and my whole body was starting to tingle.

    When I got home, a miracle not lost on me, I couldn’t shake this fear. I couldn’t be left alone. I was afraid if I was alone, I would take my life.

    I couldn’t reconcile this. How could I so badly want to live and be afraid I’d end my life at the same time? What an interesting, terrifying place to be in: a place where you can no longer trust yourself to keep you safe and alive.

    Turns out what I had in the car was a panic attack, and what I was feeling at home was suicidal ideation.

    My sister and brother-in-law drove down to Southern California in the middle of the night to be with me and insisted I seek help that next morning. I was incredibly reluctant because I had a huge project due at work and didn’t want to let my team down. They didn’t care.

    I went to see a doctor the next day, and that landed me in a treatment center for mental illness. I reluctantly admitted myself into an inpatient program.

    I had to go on medical leave, just three weeks after returning to work from maternity leave. I was so afraid of how that would impact my career. What would people think? Would my boss resent me?  Would I ever be able to get promoted? Even though this was truly a choice of life or death, it was still one of the hardest decisions I’ve ever made. I was terrified of the outcome.

    What I received in treatment, albeit begrudgingly, was more than just mental health support. I also gained a healthy dose of perspective and clarity. This wasn’t just postpartum anxiety. This was trying to balance work and life and leaving myself out of the mix. Not only that, but I didn’t feel worthy of taking time for myself.

    I realized I no longer knew who I was. I had become everything to everyone and there was no space for me. I felt empty and defeated. I had exchanged every last piece of me to fulfill the roles that were prescribed to a woman of my age. 

    This was a shocking realization, as I’m a self-proclaimed feminist. I spent most of my life keenly aware of the loss of identity that mothers often face once they have children. I didn’t want kids for that exact reason. When I met my partner, that piece changed, but I was dead set on making sure I didn’t lose myself in the process.

    It’s funny how that works. You can be acutely aware of what you don’t want in life and still end up smack dab in the middle of the exact situation you swore would never happen to you.

    When I thought of work/life balance I always thought of it as making sure I was showing up as a career woman and mother in the most balanced way possible. But where was the room for me in that?  Where did my needs and desires come into play?

    After treatment, I began working with a life coach in addition to continuing to take care of my mental health (it’s important to note that life coaches are not medical professionals). In working with my coach, I was able to integrate more of myself into my day and reconnect with my needs and desires.

    I was held, supported, and cared for, and that empowered me to care for myself and feel worthy of taking up more space in my life.

    I took the time to reconnect with who I was before I became a parent, and I brought that version of me into the fold.

    I created a list of non-negotiables that I would implement in my daily life. For instance, I go for a walk daily. No matter what. Movement is a literal life saver for my mental wellness. It doesn’t matter what is going on at home. It’s happening. And, I do it guilt-free!

    I also keep a journal by my bedside. Every night, before I lay my head down on the pillow, I write out what I got “right” that day. It’s so easy to focus on all the ways I came up short that day. For me, my mind defaults on the negative, so having to come up with a list of at least three ways I showed up for myself is a powerful way to end my night thinking of the positive.

    Do I think that we can do all of the things all of the time? Absolutely not. I feel work/life balance is a bit misleading. I don’t think we can evenly split work, life, and self-care. One will constantly outweigh the other, even if just by a small margin.

    But what we can do is try our best to fulfill our needs and desires so that we can show up for each aspect of our life as grounded in our authenticity as possible. If we can remain grounded, we can remain fully present. And for me, being fully present is balance.

  • 3 Ways to Help Someone Who’s Recovering from Trauma

    3 Ways to Help Someone Who’s Recovering from Trauma

    “Feeling safe in someone’s energy is a different kind of intimacy. That feeling of peace and protection is really underrated.” ~Vanessa Klas

    I’m now fourteen months into my recovery from complex post-traumatic stress syndrome (c-PTSD aka complex trauma). I’d been in therapy for a number of years before I was diagnosed. I’d been struggling with interpersonal relationships and suffered from severe anxiety and depression, although you wouldn’t have guessed it from looking at me.

    There are so many misconceptions about trauma, and before my diagnosis in 2020 I wasn’t very trauma aware.

    I was your typical millennial thirty-something woman, juggling a successful corporate career with a jet-setting lifestyle. My Instagram feed was filled with carefully curated photos of me adventuring through Europe, eating flashy dinners at Edinburgh Castle or entertaining friends with cocktails in my flat just off the Water of Leith.

    Then 2020 hit. The world was thrust into a global pandemic that saw me lose my job and livelihood, and with it my visa and right to live and work in a place that I had fallen in love with. I went from having a thousand distractions at my fingertips to being confined in a house with nowhere to go and no one to distract me.

    I was facing deportation since I no longer had the right to live in the UK, but wasn’t able to leave, as all flights back to Australia were stopped. I was in purgatory, stuck between where I wanted to be and where I had to go, with no way out

    Everything unraveled. It’s the only way I can describe the slow, torturous unpicking of my carefully pieced together life. Illusions of control disappeared. Choice and freedom were stripped away, and in the prison of isolation I was facing all the shadows I had so carefully avoided.

    In solitary confinement you are forced to face the parts of yourself you can ignore when you have a packed social calendar. We often think of trauma as something that happens if you’ve experienced a sudden violent incident, like a car crash, or if you’ve been assaulted, or if you’ve been in a warzone. Those are all true.

    Trauma can also occur over time with prolonged exposure to incidents and events that dysregulate your nervous system.

    The conflict in my parents’ relationship created the perfect breeding ground for c-PTSD, as my formative years (before I turned seven) were very volatile with a lot of upheaval, travel, and change.

    The stress and anxiety my parents were experiencing, first trying to migrate to Australia from India for five years and eventually going to Canada, resulted in an unfriendly divorce and custody battle. The result: neither parent was available to meet my emotional needs.

    What is Trauma?

    The American Psychological Association describes trauma as an “emotional response to a terrible event such as accident, rape, or natural disaster.” Dr Gabor Mate goes further, describing trauma as “…the invisible force that shapes our lives. It shapes the way we live, the way we love and the way we make sense of the world. It is the root of our deepest wounds.”

    Not everyone who experiences a violent or terrible event will develop PTSD. In fact, only a small portion of the population will develop trauma, even though the majority of people will be exposed to at least one traumatic event during their lifetime.

    What is PTSD?

    Post-traumatic stress disorder is considered to be a “severe reaction to an extreme or frightening traumatic event” and can include flashbacks of the event, intrusive memories and nightmares, avoidance of activities, situations or people that trigger these memories, and hypervigilance and hypersensitivity.

    What is complex-PTSD

    Complex trauma, or complex post-traumatic stress disorder, occurs after repeated and prolonged incidents that disrupt the nervous system’s ability to regulate itself. Complex trauma occurs from events experienced early in childhood development, and it causes problems with memory and the development of a person’s identity and interpersonal relationships.

    Symptoms of complex trauma include negative self-belief, problems maintaining healthy relationships, difficulties expressing emotions, people-pleasing, substance abuse, and ongoing feelings of emptiness.

    My diagnosis of complex trauma in early 2021 felt like coming up for air after being held underwater. It was painful; my lungs burned. But there was also relief.

    At first it felt like I would never be able to fill my lungs with enough oxygen, and then slowly, incrementally, my body started to trust that the oxygen was there, and I could stop gulping, grasping, floundering.

    For years I had been wrapped up in a toxic relationship with a man who was battling his own demons from childhood. For years I never felt like I was doing enough. I was never good enough or smart enough or pretty enough to deserve the relationship, the career, or the life I desired.

    I dipped my toes in the shallows of life; I yearned for community and at the same time I pushed it away. I wanted closeness, but it felt suffocating. I wanted success, but it felt terrifying. Every time life would get good, something would unbalance and everything would crumble, so I would have to pick up the pieces and rebuild.

    I was stuck in a spiral of going one step forward and five steps back in every area of my life. The pandemic only highlighted this as I was forced to move back to Australia, jobless and in debt.

    I didn’t realize it at the time, but this constant spiral of stress and loss was a subconscious play that I kept re-enacting. Subtle, insidious self-sabotaging mechanisms from childhood that had kept me safe now tripped me up and kept me trapped. I kept repeating cycles that triggered familiar responses within my nervous system—ones of unsafety, loneliness, and abandonment.

    Working on my trauma over the last fourteen months with a trauma-informed therapist, rebuilding safety within my nervous system, learning to self-regulate, to reconnect with my body, with myself, has been at times a harrowing process.

    Through it all, it was interesting to see how different people reacted to my pain and loss and grief.

    We’re not taught how to sit with our own uncomfortable feelings, let alone someone else’s. We live in a culture that thinks “positive vibes only” qualifies as a spiritual practice, when in reality, we need to be able to witness and love our shadows in order to fully heal.

    If someone you love is going through a hard time, if you know someone who is struggling, here’s some advice on how to hold space for them, from someone who has been on the receiving end of well-meaning but unhelpful suggestions throughout my recovery.

    Holding space for someone is essentially about being fully present for someone else. This means no agenda, and a judgment-free zone.

    Be Present

    Check in with yourself first. Are you ready, willing, and open to being fully present with this person right now? Are you able to leave your opinions, suggestions, and personal experiences at the door?

    If not, that’s okay. Self-care starts with you, and forcing yourself to be present with someone when you aren’t in the right head space will not help the other person.

    Let them know that you aren’t in the right head space right now and refer them to a helpline or specialist. Check back in with them to make sure they have followed through and have someone to talk to.

    You will be doing both of you a favor. This comes down to co-regulation.

    When you are grounded and fully present with someone who is going through a hard time, you are allowing them to “borrow” your nervous system to down regulate when they are in a heightened state of arousal and activation. If your own nervous system is activated, this will just exacerbate what they are feeling, causing more sensations of dysregulation and unsafety.

    When you are able to sit with someone and be fully present for them, without judging their thoughts or trying to fix things, this can be a profoundly healing experience for the other person.

    Being witnessed in our grief without judgment, pity, or awkwardness removes some of the shame we’re experiencing as we’re processing our difficult emotions.

    Often, those with complex trauma did not have their needs met and didn’t have their feelings validated as children. It’s a deeply healing experience to be with someone who cares about you and to feel seen and validated at your most vulnerable moment.

    Practice Conscious and Reflective Listening

    When we are listening to someone, we’re only half paying attention to what they are saying. Half of our attention is already formulating our response, so we’re rarely ever focused on their words.

    Holding space for someone means being fully present and listening, not only with our ears but with our full attention to what they are saying and how they are saying it. Pay attention to their words, but also observe their body language.

    Allow for pauses. Silence can feel uncomfortable, but when we’re processing difficult emotions, sometimes we need a little silence to gather our thoughts or sit with what we’ve just said. Don’t try to fill the pauses in the conversation straight away.

    Reflect and mirror back what the person has said. This doesn’t have to be verbatim. It could be as simple as “I can see that this situation has really hurt you. I hear that you’re feeling overwhelmed and stressed out because you’ve lost your job. I can image that’s really scary. Can you share more?”

    This allows them to expand and clarify if they want to, or to just feel like they’ve been heard if that’s all they wanted to share.

    Observe Without Judgment

    Be willing to listen without judging what the other person is saying or how they’re interpreting their experience. Those of us with complex trauma grew up being hypervigilant and aware of the emotions of the people around us. This was integral to our survival in childhood.

    This means you need to be aware of your responses, both verbal and non-verbal, to what we are expressing. Listen with empathy and compassion, and stay open to what we are sharing, even if you disagree.

    Even if you think other people have it worse.

    Even if you have a solution.

    You may feel like we are overreacting, but often trauma triggers reactions to something we experienced in the past. When we’re triggered, we’re not only reacting to the situation we are currently facing, but also the unprocessed emotions from the previous situations. We’re dealing with the past and the present simultaneously, and it can feel overwhelming.

    Being witnessed by someone who cares about us without judgment when we’re triggered is a deeply healing experience. Often, those of us with trauma, depression, and anxiety already feel ashamed about our emotions and reactions, so having someone witness us without judgment can be liberating.

  • How Befriending My Anxiety and Depression Helped Ease My Pain

    How Befriending My Anxiety and Depression Helped Ease My Pain

    “‘What should I do?’ I asked myself. ‘Spend another two miserable years like this? Or should I truly welcome my panic?’ I decided to really let go of wanting to block, get rid of, or fight it. I would finally learn how to live with it, and to use it as support for my meditation and awareness. I welcomed it for real. What began to happen was that the panic was suspended in awareness. On the surface level was panic, but beneath it was awareness, holding it. This is because the vital first step to breaking the cycle of the anxious mind is to connect to awareness.” ~Yongey Mingyur Rinpoche

    I have suffered with anxiety and depression for at least fifteen years. I can’t remember a time when I didn’t. They both almost killed me, but I have learned that living with them, rather than fighting them, is far more fortuitous in bringing relief.

    Fortunately, at no stage did I act on suicidal thoughts, but I would be a liar if I said I never had them. Not in terms of making plans, but the general idea did creep up on me, and for a while it was all-consuming. I also reached a stage where I didn’t care if I died.

    Alcohol became a crutch and, in a strange way, beer actually may have been responsible for saving my life. The one day I ever seriously had intentions of ending everything, I walked past a pub after leaving work, went in, and proceeded to get exceedingly drunk. I reached a stage where I was incapable of doing anything worse to myself, and my inebriated state led to my wife telling me I needed to get urgent help.

    Trying to put my finger on precisely why I started feeling anxious and depressed would be like trying to pick up mercury with a fork. It would be equally impossible to pinpoint at what age I began to suffer. I think I was always a worrier, even from early childhood.

    In many ways I had a blessed upbringing. I had loving parents; we weren’t a wealthy family, but we didn’t struggle either. There was always enough food, and I was warm, clothed, and felt cherished.

    That said, things weren’t perfect, as my dad worked away from home a lot. He did it to provide for his family, us; I am proud of him and in no way resentful. It did leave a hole in the home, though, and put a lot of extra responsibility on my mum, and maybe I have separation issues as a result.

    My parents had high standards when it came to behavior. I recognize this now as having made me the person I am today. They gave me strong principles, for which I am grateful.

    It wasn’t always easy to live up to my mum and dad’s expectations, though. I remember being stressed quite often about this and having a fear of being shouted at. In comparison with what some children sadly have to tolerate, I feel a little silly saying that, but I’m trying to give an explanation for my anxiety in later life.

    Bullying was also an unwelcome companion throughout my childhood. Ridiculing, name-calling, and physical abuse all left their indelible mark. I can clearly remember the indignity of being drowned in another, older, bigger, stronger child’s spit.

    The main focus of my tormentors was that I was “ugly”, “nobody would ever fancy me,” and that I would “never find a girlfriend.” I managed to disprove all three as an adult. Well, maybe I am “ugly,” but, frankly, as a happily married man, as long as my wife doesn’t think I am, I’m not sure it matters all that much.

    What does matter, though, are the scars this taunting left. I’ve never really regained my confidence after them. I’m not sure I can, and they cause me to be hard with myself, leading to anxious and depressed thinking.

    Maybe it was the bullying that really fed my depression and anxiety. I’ve been the victim of domineering, abusive behavior as an adult too, and there is a fragility inside me when faced with such onslaughts. I also have a very keen idea of justice and don’t enjoy seeing it being compromised.

    Notwithstanding, I have never felt able to definitely put my finger on bullying as the cause of my, at times, poor mental health. Without the ability to do that, I believe I’m destined for anxiety and depression to be lifelong companions. That may sound defeatist, but my reality isn’t as gloomy as that last sentence might suggest, and the reason for this is something I can definitely point to.

    GPs treated me for years for depression and made no mention of anxiety. The day following my escapism from suicidal thoughts through inebriation, my wife made me go to the A&E Department at our local hospital. There, finally, a doctor listened attentively, made a first, tentative diagnosis of anxiety leading into depression, and suggested things I could do alongside taking medication to aid real recovery.

    Of all the advice that medic gave me, the suggestion that has been most instrumental in regaining my health was to meditate. I’d dismissed meditation in the past as “hocus pocus,” laughing at and pouring scorn on it. Something in me reacted positively to the suggestion that day, and I am eternally grateful for that.

    The hospital, among other things, gave me a list of places where I could find helpful tools for meditating. Apps, recordings, videos. I decided I had nothing to lose and everything to gain, so I started following their guidance.

    I burned through the resources the doctor gave me within a few days. That was enough to convince me that this could really help. I still felt anxious and depressed, but for the period of time while I meditated I got, for the first time in years, a real sense of relief that wasn’t alcohol-fueled.

    Unsure of where else I could find guided meditations, something triggered in my brain and a thought emerged: “I am sure Buddhism has something to do with meditating.” I went onto YouTube and typed in “Buddhist meditation” and got a huge number of results. So began my real journey with mindfulness practice.

    Meditation didn’t miraculously cure my anxiety and depression. As I said, I still live with them. But it offered a glimmer of light through which I felt certain I could better learn to cope and give a quality to my life that had been missing for years.

    I can’t say specifically how meditation has changed things for me. I just know it has. I have read that the brain is plastic. That it can develop and change over time. The idea that activities like meditation help develop new, healthier, neural pathways makes sense to me. It’s almost as if the change has happened subconsciously. What I do know is that, as a result of meditating regularly, I’m calmer and better able to deal with crises than I had previously been.

    As I made meditating a daily practice, I began looking more into Buddhist philosophies. They are what worked for me and it is eminently possible to get the same benefits from other philosophical teachings, both religious and not. One idea I hit on was the concept of not fighting negative emotions but rather befriending them.

    This sounds counter-intuitive. When we get a feeling we don’t like, whether it be anxiety, depression, or anything else uncomfortable, we naturally want to run from it. This only strengthens the emotion, though, and does nothing to relieve it.

    Perhaps that’s why people get locked in cycles of negativity. They fight the uncomfortable feeling, thereby strengthening it, so they fight it all the more. Round and round goes the vicious circle.

    Instead, by accepting the emotion, letting it be, and recognizing that the feeling isn’t inherently wrong, that it’s just a sensation, it somehow softens it.

    The first person I ever heard talking about this process was Yongey Mingyur Rinpoche whose quote I have cited above. He often speaks about how revelatory it was for his panic attacks, and so it has proven to be for me with my anxiety and depression.

    It was this charming, charismatic Nepalese Buddhist who got me hooked on meditation. I specifically remember the moment I found his video “A Guided Meditation on the Body, Space, and Awareness with Yongey Mingyur Rinpoche,” on YouTube. With his gentle and humorous approach, I could almost feel his arms holding me as he guided me through the process. Despite meditating daily for the last four years, I still return to this video when I feel I need to get back to basics.

    The belief that somehow anxiety and depression will up sticks and leave me is not something I possess. However, they don’t frighten me anymore, and I have learned to cope with them. I would wish them “good riddance” if they did pack their bags and go, but they don’t dominate me anymore. I live with them and they aren’t going to prevent me from enjoying a positive existence.

    There is a wealth of resources available online that both talk through this novel concept and provide guided meditations on it. Some are religious or spiritual, though plenty of others are purely secular. It is an idea that can be used by anyone in whatever format they wish.

    My life has changed because of these few, simple practices. I’m more content than I can ever remember being and like to think of this transformation as proof that anyone who suffers similarly can regain happiness. I would be lying if I said it isn’t hard work, or that there aren’t periods that are more difficult than others, but it is so worth it.

    As a result of these improvements, I was able to kick my alcohol habit over three years ago, something that has also benefitted my mental health. Again, I found I felt better from not drinking, but this is not to say that being teetotal is an elixir for wellness. Plenty of people find a beer or a glass of wine actually helps how they feel, and if this is you, go for it.

    This article is not prescriptive. I don’t believe anyone can offer a recipe for wellness, as it is dependent on the individual, and I strongly doubt that two people would ever find that what works for one, works exactly the same for the other. If the above text offers hope and nothing else, the writing of it will have been worthwhile.

  • 3 Painful Consequences to Overgiving and People-Pleasing

    3 Painful Consequences to Overgiving and People-Pleasing

    People-pleasing, overhelping, overgiving—we can give it lots of different names, but the consequences of putting yourself last all the time are generally the same.

    You may have been raised to see giving and helping as virtuous things. And hear me say, they are. I believe wholeheartedly that it’s a beautiful thing to serve, support, and help others. However, people-pleasers don’t always know when to draw the line; they give and give almost as if they have an endless supply of time, energy, and resources.

    Surprisingly, people-pleasing is often about control. It’s rooted in your need to try and boost your own self-esteem, avoid conflict, and manipulate the environment into what you need it to be to feel at ease.

    But I can assure you, there are vast and detrimental consequences to working so hard to please and appease others. I know firsthand. My overgiving, overhelping ways were rooted in my deep need to be seen, supported, and cared for. I’ve experienced fried adrenal glands not once, but twice from pushing so hard to say yes to everything but me.

    Let me share with you some of the costs of overgiving and people-pleasing now.

    Deep Resentment

    The more you try to please those around you, the less time you have for yourself and the things you need and desire, which then leads to feeling resentful.

    If your needs aren’t being met by those around you (because, let’s face it, most people-pleasers aren’t being honest and telling our people what we need), it can cause deep hurt and anger.

    It’s not other people’s job to read our minds. It’s our job to speak our truth and be honest, but often, we fail to do so. So when they don’t intuit or “just know” our needs, we start becoming resentful toward them too. “Arghhh, how can they be so uncaring?”

    Anger then takes hold. Resentment is what happens when we stuff or suppress that anger (common for the people-pleaser—remember, we need to keep the harmony at all costs, so speaking on behalf of our anger is major a taboo!).

    And once resentment kicks in, that’s when the illness of bitterness seeps in and festers. Resentment is what leads to long marriages and relationships of contempt, rolling eyes, and “staying together for the kids.” It leaks out as criticism, defensiveness, and snarky side comments. It explodes in the kitchen at a random comment (that actually isn’t random—it simply pressed on the already existing wound).

    Loss of Identity

    People-pleasers spend a great deal of time editing themselves—so much so that they lose sight of who they really are.

    When you’re always trying to please other people, you often hide yourself or morph into behaving like other people to get what you want. You’re a master chameleon, an expert at being anyone… other than you.

    This was my ammo 100%. I didn’t know who I was because I had spent decades trying to be what I thought others wanted me to be. It was the only way I knew how to keep myself safe. I had spent years feeling like I was unlikable, didn’t fit in, or that I wasn’t smart enough. So I simply bought into the notion that I had to go along to get along.

    This led me straight down a path to never understanding what I enjoyed, liked, disliked, or needed because I rarely made any choices for myself. I didn’t put aside time for myself and explore new things because I had no idea what those things might be. So I just didn’t. I continued in my pattern of pleasing and appeasing to my own detriment.

    Loss of Intimacy/Loss of Relationships

    For a typical people-pleaser, their relationships often look one-sided.

    Let me guess, you’re the one that:

    • Plans outings
    • Is the listening ear
    • Is the shoulder to cry on
    • Everyone calls when they need something
    • Is always “holding space for others”

    This makes you feel needed, wanted, valued, and important. But when you stop to think about it, you realize you’re not getting the same in return.

    It’s not hard to see how this leads to short-lived relationships following a set pattern:

    Joy and fun at first, then you start to feel exhausted, then resentment creeps in, followed by mild confrontation and the inevitable parting of the ways. (And I know because this is a pattern I followed more times than I care to confess).

    There came a point where I had to get honest about the depth of my friendships. Yes, many were fun. But they lacked the support and intimacy that I longed for. No one ever asked about me and what I had going on. No one ever held space for my hurts and frustrations in life. I often felt emptier when I came home from spending an evening together than I did when I left.

    Fear kept me in those relationships long past their expiration dates. I didn’t walk away sooner because I was too scared to be alone.

    I noticed that I held back from being honest and sharing myself with them. I didn’t think I could be intimate or vulnerable, so at some point, the relationship simply expired. Just like a carton of yogurt that gets pushed to the back of the refrigerator, it saw its final date.

    As I was growing and healing, I began to see that the people I had chosen to be in relationships with were no longer healthy for me. My soul was healing, and I was learning to align with relationships that felt honest and authentic.

    Speaking your truth and asking for what you need doesn’t make you a selfish person. It makes you a real person with real needs, and real relationships are only formed when we are willing to be… you guessed it, real.

    It’s okay to want to help and support people. I’m not telling anyone to be a jerk and to never lend a helping hand. However, you need to know where to draw the line; you need to find a balance of helping them and you.

    We all matter. We all have needs that matter. And the only way to get our needs met is to be honest about them—and to set healthy boundaries that honor them.

    Boundaries are not about saying no all the time and demanding things of other people. Boundaries are about knowing where the line is for you and communicating that line in a way that is firm and compassionate so you can flourish and thrive.

    When set correctly, boundaries give both people a choice as to what happens next in the relationship. It’s okay sometimes to walk away. But it’s also okay to stay in the relationship and practice honesty and intimacy if that feels right. When you start to become familiar with boundary-setting, your intuition will guide your next steps.

    Trust yourself. I know from being a recovering people-pleaser that this step alone can be so challenging, as we don’t really know who we are, so how do we trust ourselves? But that small, still voice within has always been there, guiding and leading. The difference is, now you’re listening.

  • The Difference Between Easy and Hard Self-Care and Why Both Matter

    The Difference Between Easy and Hard Self-Care and Why Both Matter

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

    Self-care. An important concept that has become a buzzword. What does it mean? The answer… that depends on you. Google and you will find lists, articles, and suggestions for self-care tasks. These can be helpful as inspiration, but self-care is something that’s unique to you.

    I work in suicide prevention and mental health promotion. I talk about self-care a lot. I encourage others to engage in self-care regularly. I have them make lists with self-care tasks that are meaningful to them. You’d imagine I’d be an expert in self-care. Am I?  No. But I’m working on it. And I’m way better than I used to be.

    How did I get better? I started doing the hard self-care.

    What’s the difference between easy and hard self-care?

    Easy self-care for me is things like a hot bath or shower. Hiking with my family on the weekends. Texting my sister about daily frustrations. Baking sourdough. Practicing meditation.

    The easy self-care is doing the things that fill your bucket, the things you make time for without excuses and that make you feel better in the moment.

    This is the first type of self-care I focused on when I was feeling burnt out. Most of my twenties consisted of my working several jobs at a time, filling my unpaid time with volunteer work and seeing friends, going out, staying so busy that I didn’t realize I was worn out. I was known to use the mantra “I’ll sleep when I’m dead.”

    It was when my thirties hit that the mantra started to feel too real.

    I had my first child at thirty and my second child at thirty-four, and the go-go-go lifestyle started catching up to me. Working full-time, volunteering, seeing friends, never saying no, and staying busy hit different with two kids and a partner who worked shifts.

    I was tired—all the time. The kind of tired that sleep doesn’t touch. The kind of tired that had me sobbing at the dinner table because I didn’t know where I’d find the energy to do the bedtime routine. The kind of tired that had me begging my doctor for tests and wishing he would find something wrong so that I could fix whatever was sucking my energy.

    I was getting strep throat every other month. I was having stomach issues. I was burnt out and not well.  I would be so exhausted that I didn’t have energy for my kids at the end of the workday. The kind of exhausted that no number of hot showers or meditation was fixing.

    I had been to my doctor several times in eight years, explaining my symptoms, and was turned away with the rationale that I had young kids; I should expect to be tired.

    At some point, I decided that this was unacceptable. I declared 2019 to be the year of health for myself and booked an appointment with a naturopath. In my first appointment, she asked me to rate my energy levels on average each day from a scale of one to ten.

    I told her that on average, my energy levels were at a two, but sometimes I would be a three on a good day.

    She looked at me in shock and clarified: “You are a two on average, on a daily basis?”

    I said, “Yes.”

    She told me, “Honey, this is not normal.”

    I burst into tears: I felt validated; I felt seen and not ignored. Fast forward to a few rounds of bloodwork, and I was diagnosed with Hashimoto’s Thyroiditis, which explained many of the symptoms I had been struggling with, including the crushing fatigue that left me in tears most days.

    This is where the hard self-care kicked in. Hot baths, meditation, baking sourdough—all things that continue to fill my bucket and that help me to feel better—were important. But the self-care I needed to feel better in the long run, to have energy for my family, to live life instead of getting through life—the hard stuff—this is where I shifted.

    Knowing that I could make changes to how I was taking care of myself was empowering. I finally felt like I had some control over how I was feeling. And shifting my perspective to see this as a part of self-care helped me to prioritize the hard stuff.

    Advocating to my healthcare providers, changing my diet and how I exercise, changing how I rest and recharge my body, setting boundaries, choosing what I use my energy for—these are necessary choices to alter my symptoms and help me to feel better, but they do not come easily for me. Yet, they are all a part of my own self-care. If I wanted to feel well, I needed to start doing these things—and continue to do them if I wanted to continue feeling better.

    And I do feel better. I am now on thyroid medication. I know that dairy makes me feel not great. I can now feel when I’m going into a Hashimoto’s flare, and I know when I need to rest more.

    I know what exercise is helpful for me, and what makes me feel worse.

    I am honest with my partner when I need him to take on more so I can rest.

    I know the difference in my body when I am tired vs. fatigued, and I can take action for both of those feelings.

    Doing the hard self-care over the last three years has been worth the work for how I feel overall.  

    The hard self-care will likely always be something that I’m working on. Some of the hardest things have become much easier as I practice them.

    I’m much more likely to advocate for my health with my doctor than I was three years ago. I am much more confident to set boundaries at work with my hours and my capacity. I am much better at listening to my body and accepting the need for rest.

    I still have internal arguments with myself in terms of pushing myself to be productive (my trick is writing “rest” on my to-do list—it helps me reframe rest as productive instead of lazy!), but where I am now is vastly different from where I was just a few years ago.

    When I talk to others about self-care, I encourage them to think about the self-care that’s easy for them, and to also consider the harder self-care. Both are important and necessary to make sure you are honoring yourself.

    How?

    Start today.

    1. Think of one easy self-care task you can do right now (or today) that fills your bucket, and will help you to feel good, or better, in this moment.

    2. Think of one hard self-care task that you want to take on. It could be something like making an appointment you’ve been putting off or considering how to set a boundary that’s been difficult for you. It could even be something like drinking more water—that can be so difficult for some people, while it sounds easy.

    3. Be kind to yourself. Know that everyone’s journey is different. What’s hard for you might be easy for others, and vice versa. Self-care is individual, and some of us have privilege to prioritize self-care in some ways that others do not.

    It might not be easy, but you will start to see how things can start to change when you put yourself on your to-do list.

  • Feeling Burnt Out? How to Slow Down and Reclaim Your Peace

    Feeling Burnt Out? How to Slow Down and Reclaim Your Peace

    “Burnout is a sign that something needs to change.” ~Sarah Forgrave

    Fifteen years ago, my doctor informed me I was in the early stages of adrenal exhaustion. In no uncertain terms, she warned that if I failed to address the stress I was under, my adrenals might not recover. This was hard to hear, but it forced me to face the fact that eating well, exercising religiously, and keeping up with the latest research on wellness was not enough.

    I had to ask myself a defining question that day: Am I ready to go down with the ship?

    At the time, I was teaching an average of fourteen classes a week at my wellness studio. I had been exceeding my threshold for so long that I had pain in every joint and muscle in my body. I was completely exhausted, physically, mentally, and emotionally, but slowing down or cutting back was just not an option.

    Or so I believed.

    The problem was that every time I would even begin to consider addressing the reality of my situation, my head would instantly fill with all the reasons I couldn’t possibly stop.

    There was the dream for a business I couldn’t imagine giving up. The huge amounts of time and money I had invested in realizing that dream. And most of all, there were the clients I was serving, a community of amazing women I loved working with and didn’t want to let go.

    Meanwhile, my thirty-year marriage to a man struggling with an opioid addiction was falling apart. My kids were distressed. My body was completely breaking down, and my life had become a tangled mess of fears, conflicted feelings, and obligations I just didn’t have the heart for anymore.

    As the growing pressure to do something about my situation increased, my anxiety increased right along with it. Talk about a pressure cooker!

    I couldn’t even imagine the courage I would need to tell my husband I wanted a divorce. And whenever I got anywhere close to that courage, my mind would flood with anxiety over the uncertainty.

    How would he react?

    How would it affect my children?

    Where would I live?

    How would I ever rebuild my life?

    It felt as if I was being buried alive under a growing mountain of complexity with no way out. So, the pain continued to get worse, and I kept trudging forward, blindly hoping against hope that somehow it would all work itself out (without changing anything about the way I was living).

    Growing up, I had learned to take the offensive and power through obstacles. I had always seen myself as someone who could do anything she put her mind to. Now I found myself stuck between the person who thought she was responsible for everyone’s experience but her own and the person I might actually become if I started making self-valuing, authentic choices.

    Then one morning, the dam broke.

    I was walking up to the door of my studio to teach the 6:00 a.m. class, asking myself (like I did every morning) how I was going to get through the day with all the pain I was in.

    As I turned the key in the lock of the business I had dreamed of creating for over a decade—the business I had built out of everything I believed in and everything I knew I wanted to offer to the world—I could see the consequences of my resistance to change about to swallow me whole. I could see that my fear of change was completely blocking my ability to see anything past that.

    And suddenly… everything went quiet. All the reasons for not stopping that typically flooded my mind just fell away.

    The only thought I had in that moment was, The way you stop… is you stop.

    I didn’t just hear these words; I felt an absolute acceptance of them. One minute it was impossible to stop; the next, it felt like the simplest thing in the world.

    In the quiet of this moment, I became so aware of my own breath that I felt it everywhere in my body. For the first time in as long as I could remember, I stopped. And when I did, I found the courage to listen to my aching heart.

    I felt a depth of longing for peace I had never allowed myself to experience before. I stood there breathing and felt an acceptance of the reality of everything that was happening wash over me. The pressure to control it all was gone!

    My mind was clear, and my body felt relaxed even as I faced the same facts of my situation, but without all the usual stories and justifications overwhelming me. It felt like a miracle.

    Suddenly the door to my studio, which I had been walking through for years, felt like the door to an entirely new way. Standing there with my key in my hand, in the profound quiet of that moment, I was flooded with a new sense of possibility.

    As I set up for the 6:00 a.m. class, I stayed focused on my breathing and continued to listen to my body. It became clear to me that when I wasn’t being honest with myself, my body responded by restricting my breath. And I was able to see how all the years of unaddressed tension were expressing themselves as escalating physical pain.

    A New Direction

    That morning, I didn’t just take a first step toward interrupting the old way. I began heading in a new direction.

    But it still took me a year and a half to wind down my commitments and extricate myself from the studio. This was a massive transformation involving every aspect of my life, but it began with just one step—accepting that the old way was broken. Once I accepted this wholeheartedly, I moved to the next step.

    I had a friend who had moved back to town to take care of her aging mother. She was looking for a place to establish her yoga school and had already been teaching a couple of classes a week at my studio while she looked for a more permanent place. On that pivotal morning, after I taught the 6:00 a.m. class, I called my friend and told her that I was stepping down and that she could hold all her classes there.

    I continued to pull back, one step at a time, constantly asking myself, “What can I let go of today?” (One day, the answer to this question was “my hair”!) Eventually my friend bought out my lease and took over completely.

    This is not to say I did not continue to wrestle with self-doubt. But my intention to slow down and to stop ignoring my tension became my guiding compass point.

    In the years that followed, I relied on this compass to dive more deeply into the mind-body connection and what it truly means to take care of myself and be happy. My primary tool was the simple mindfulness practice of paying attention to my posture (whether it was tense or at ease) and my breath (restricted or free). I found strong community for this priority in the study and practice of Qigong, Tai Chi, and Continuum.

    In the process, it became clear to me that to access the wisdom within, the first thing I had to do was slow down and calm down. This priority allowed me to be honest about the pressure I was putting on myself to keep doing things I no longer had the heart for and to recognize the emotional reasons I was hanging onto them.

    We all come to thresholds in our lives, times when we’re faced with tremendous pressure to change (or go down with the ship). When we refuse to change, the only other option is to increase our tolerance for suffering while convincing ourselves that it’s not affecting us as much as it really is. In this fantasy we tell ourselves we’ll make it (somehow) if we just keep powering through.

    I’ve come to realize that it’s not about avoiding stress. It’s about increasing your ability to remain present and functional while stressful events are happening. The calmer you can be in the face of stress, the more resilient you’ll be and the less likely you’ll be to end up teetering on the edge of complete burnout like I was.

    When we practice being present, we’re able to make more accurate moment-to-moment choices. We’re able to slow down and take an honest look at what needs to change. Which isn’t to say that it’s going to change in a minute, or a day, or a week, or even a year. The truth is that lasting change can often be a very gradual process.

    How to Stop

    I was able to stop by establishing new priorities. I made it a point to slow down, calm down, and really be honest about what I could eliminate. My process was essentially as follows:

    1. Stop. (For the moment, anyway.) Acknowledge that before a new way can show itself, you have to find a way to stop the old way.

    2. Acknowledge the pain you are in—emotional and physical.

    3. Ask what you can let go of now and in the near future. (If the answer is “nothing,” then ask again.)

    4. With “something has to give” as your mantra, what can you let go of next?

    • Consider what you are physically and mentally capable of doing right now. (If the answer is “everything, if I push myself,” then ask again.)
    • Consider your life priorities and what you need to make room for.
    • Consider what you no longer have a heart for.
    • Consider that what you are holding on to tightest might be what really needs to go. Letting go of smaller things first often helps to relax your grip on even your strongest (and often unhealthy) attachments.

    5. When the “yes, but…” voice shows up, be aware of it and do your best not to listen or take action based on what this voice says. This is the voice of your attachment to keeping an unsustainable system on life support. It’s fueled by your fear of uncertainty because if you stop what you’re doing, you’re not sure what will happen (and your “yes, but…” voice is certain it will be awful!).

    6. Gather tools to help yourself detach enough from this voice to move toward accepting reality and make the changes needed to live a more authentic and satisfying life. (The Serenity Prayer is a good one.)

    7. Remember that change is a process, not a single event. Start small, then graduate to bigger things that need to go.

    —

    I hope you’ll continue to play with the concept of stopping (the old way) to start (a better way). Every meaningful change hinges on your ability to interrupt the old pattern. You’ll learn to rely on this ability the more you practice using it.

    Also keep in mind that you won’t necessarily know anything about the new way when you stop the old one. Change usually happens very slowly, and patience can be the hardest thing.

    Good luck, and feel free to reach out with questions or comments!

  • 3 Things I Realized When I Stopped People-Pleasing and Let Myself Receive

    3 Things I Realized When I Stopped People-Pleasing and Let Myself Receive

    “Until we can receive with an open heart, we are never really giving with an open heart.” ~Brene Brown

    The honest truth about needing to please is that we do it to make other people happy. We will sacrifice everything and anything to put a smile on another’s face and lighten their load, while ours keeps building.

    The only problem is that while helping others makes us feel good, it’s almost addictive until we are burnt out. And giving and pleasing others starts to come from a place of resentment.

    I’ve been there!

    There was a time when I used to come up with a thousand reasons why I couldn’t leave the house. I was desperate to get to a yoga class and claim an hour away from being a mum, wife, friend, and entrepreneur.

    But instead, I prioritized keeping my kids happy and did everything I could to avoid the onset of a tantrum and also made sure my husband sat down to a delicious, home-cooked meal each night. And when the kids were napping, I would use that time to do a little work.

    The routine started to get boring. I complained daily. I was grumpy and irritable.

    Yet the days kept coming and I started to drag my feet. The tasks were mundane and never-ending, and they started to get on my nerves. I’d lash out at the washing machine or slap together a half-assed attempt at dinner. And I wasn’t just overextended and resentful in my home life. My clients were taking advantage of me, and my friends sucked my energy dry.

    I kept showing up for everyone around me—striving to keep the peace, to keep them happy, while I was worried that I might let them down or wasn’t living up to their expectations. Yet with a whole lot of hindsight, I discovered that I had placed all this pressure on my shoulders myself.

    Denying myself a sixty-minute yin yoga class was the stupidest thing I had ever done. It still sounds ridiculous now. But at the time, I couldn’t see any solutions. I had tunnel vision and it didn’t revolve around me.

    I felt like I didn’t deserve the break.

    I felt responsible for everyone around me.

    I was unsure what would happen if I left our house for an hour and what I would walk back into after leaving my two young kids alone with my husband.

    Each afternoon, I was an emotional wreck by the time my husband came home. Being the problem solver that he is, he encouraged me to go and find a class—as if it was that simple. I thought, “What does he know anyway? He has no idea about all the things I still have to do.”

    But I eventually realized he was right. I needed a break, and I had to get out of my own way and take it.

    Finding a class was easier than I had imagined. There were loads to choose from and all kinds. I settled on a 4:30 p.m. class on a Friday, that was only a five-minute bike ride away.

    I remember walking through those yellow doors to find only me, two other people, and a smiley yoga teacher.

    Ahhh, I relaxed. I rolled out my mat and lay down because it was a yin restorative practice. We lay there for what seemed a lifetime. I spent it fighting with my mind to not think about what might be happening at home, my to-do list, my kids, the grocery list, my work… Thankfully, we finally got moving and I started to tune into the music.

    The class was literally six poses of deep stretching and rest, and it was a challenge to surrender instead of extending each pose.

    My mind focused on how to allow my limbs to soften even in a standing pose that we held for a good five minutes. Not collapsing took every ounce of concentration I had.

    I took big belly breaths, in to fill my lungs and out to gently soften.

    In the final fifteen minutes we had a deep meditation (savasana), with the yoga teacher coming around to us individually, massaging the back of our necks to the bottom of our skulls. She finished it off by pressing her two warm hands down on my shoulders as if she was pushing me back into the ground. Tears began streaming down my face as she walked away.

    I had fully surrendered and left my mind to be in the present moment, and her touch released the stress and burden I was carrying. It was an intense moment, and I felt joyful and at peace. I had literally forgotten that I had to return to my family only minutes later.

    That class changed me as a mother and a wife.

    I went back every week religiously after that. I saw the power of connecting with my breath and myself. Because that one hour reset each week was enough to fill up my cup and change how I was showing up for myself and others.

    My daily chores didn’t bother me anymore. I had more love to give my kids and partner. I had a renewed sense of energy. When someone asked for help, I had the capacity to give because I wanted to instead of seeing it just as another task I had to do.

    Once I learned to receive, which meant surrendering my responsibility and need to control and allowing myself a little love, I discovered that I often denied myself other things, like going out for walk or catching up with friends. And this is where I had to lean in deeper and question what it means to receive. Here is what I realized.

    Accepting Help

    It is not a sign of weakness to ask for help or receive it, and I don’t need to prove myself or my worth through giving.

    I really felt like I was doing life alone, taking on the responsibility of everyone around me and driving myself into the ground. People would make kind gestures to help, but I would often shut them down with an “I’ve got it covered, thanks.”

    The day my husband stepped in to wash the dishes after I shared that I had a looming deadline, he practically threw me out of the kitchen. I felt so guilty, like I should be the one doing them, not him.

    What I thought was a one-time deal has now lasted three years. It has lightened my load, and our relationship has been better because I no longer feel like I’m the one doing all the things.

    Accepting help is receiving an energetic exchange with someone that wants to offer support. So take it.

    Acknowledging Compliments

    Too often, I would deflect when someone would say something nice to me. I found it uncomfortable, and it made me question their ability to see what was really happening.

    I didn’t feel like I deserved a compliment because I didn’t see myself like others did. I didn’t feel worthy of being praised, so I brushed it off with, “No worries, it was nothing,” “I would do it for anyone,” or “This old thing? I bought it on sale five years ago.”

    Learning to receive a compliment showed me that I could be honored and celebrated for who I am and that there was nothing to be ashamed of. I thought that people who received compliments looked nothing like me and were doing more important work than little old me. But I learned that compliments are praise, and we all deserve to feel seen, heard, and acknowledged.

    Realizing I’m Not Responsible for Everything

    Here was my greatest lesson, which was letting go of my need to control all situations. The responsibility I carried, because I felt it was my job to make everyone happy, was costing me my physical and mental health along with my relationships.

    When I released the control, it created space for things to happen without my interference. It provided space for me to see how others could step up and take responsibility, for mutual needs and their own. It gave me permission to invest in my own well-being.

    Instead of over-giving, fixing, and manipulating, I stood back. From here I could see that life is a two-way street where we exchange our energy with one another. This allows us to give from a full, nourished heart, and this is much more satisfying than giving from a sense of fear and obligation.

    —

    Opening our hearts to receive eliminates our tendency to over-give. When we give without our full presence, we are not showing up fully for ourselves or for other people.

    We all love to support the people we care about, but we need to receive just as much as we give, creating a balance that never leaves us feeling drained or that we “should” be doing something.

    Do you find it hard to receive? What helps you let go of control and fill your own cup?