Tiny Buddha

Tag: self-care

  • Ending My Toxic Relationship with My Mother Was an Act of Self-Love

    Ending My Toxic Relationship with My Mother Was an Act of Self-Love

    “It’s okay to let go of those who couldn’t love you. Those who didn’t know how to. Those who failed to even try. It’s okay to outgrow them, because that means you filled the empty space in you with self-love instead. You’re outgrowing them because you’re growing into you. And that’s more than okay, that’s something to celebrate.” ~Angelica Moone

    I was taught to love my family and to just accept the love they give. With the passage of time and the dawning of maturity, I began to doubt this kind of unquestioning love. The chronic emotional and mental stress of the relationship with my mother came into a new light after the birth of my youngest daughter.

    I could no longer avoid and just accept a toxic relationship that was void of emotion and affection. I began to look at the dysfunctional familial relationship with her through the eyes of a new parent and started to see things differently.

    I started asking myself questions like “Would I ever purposely treat my child with such indifference and disregard them so callously?” So many more questions I asked myself were met with “no.” So, why would I just accept this behavior? Why was I allowing this constant stress to take up so much energy in my life?

    I can look back and see now that I was holding out hope for a grand gesture while craving to receive maternal feelings of love and security.  My inner child was holding out for love from the person that gave birth to her, but the adult in me sees that the love I was truly needing was love for myself. 

    The walls to unquestioning family loyalty came tumbling down around me about five years ago. My husband and I had been living in the Bay Area and felt strongly that it would be nice to raise a family near family. So, before the birth of our youngest, we decided after fifteen years of living in California to move across the country to Connecticut.

    During our plans to move, I held on to the delusion that if I lived closer, my mother would want to be part of our lives. She even called me while packing up our last few moving boxes to tell me how thrilled she was that we were moving back and that she could not wait to visit us all the time. She never came to visit; I had built up the illusion that she wanted to be part of our lives.

    The coup de grace was when she called me out of the blue on her drive up from Florida, where she vacations in the winter, tell me she was planning on stopping for a quick visit on her way home to Massachusetts. Giving me a time frame as to when she would be arriving.

    As the week passed, she did not call or visit. However, I did receive an out of the blue message three months later to say hi, which never acknowledged the previous plan to visit.

    It was after this final act of indifference that I made the decision, I could no longer allow the hurt and manipulation to continue. What was I teaching my children about boundaries if I was not creating healthy boundaries?

    My therapist once asked me “Would you go shopping at a clothing store for groceries”? When I answered, no, it dawned on me that I wouldn’t, so why was I expecting something different from my mother?

    I once read that people can change, but toxic people rarely do. Toxic individuals, according to this adage, seldom change. Because if someone isn’t accepting responsibility for their acts and lacks self-awareness, how can you expect them to alter their ways? The change I was waiting for was not her to change but my willingness to change.

    At first, I questioned my decision to end this relationship. Was it cruel of me to not allow my children to know their grandmother? However, at the same time the realization came that she was not really a part of our lives.

    Unraveling this toxic tie has been an act of self-love. For myself, for my inner child who is still healing, and for my children, so they can witness their mother loving herself enough to quit letting someone else harm her.

    Since this decision, I have had family try and talk to me about my decision. Telling me stories of how their friends severed their relationship with a family member and regretted it after their passing. When that time happens, I will grieve, I will grieve for what never was.

    Instead of clinging to this toxic relationship, I am teaching my children so much more by ending the cycle of neglect and creating healthy boundaries. I am showing my children how to love themselves.

  • Why I Despised My Skin Color & 5 Strategies That Improved My Self-Image

    Why I Despised My Skin Color & 5 Strategies That Improved My Self-Image

    “Beauty begins the moment you decide to be yourself.” ~Coco Chanel

    I believed I was ugly and blamed it on my dark skin. I hated my skin color. Looking back, I realized it’s because I didn’t fit in with the white kids, nor did I fit in with the black kids.

    I am mixed race. I have a black father and a white mother. Until I started school, I never considered myself different. My family and I were close, and I felt love and acceptance.

    When I started second grade, I developed a crush on a boy, who never noticed me and fawned over the pretty blonde girl in class. She was beautiful, with springy blonde curls and a soft, feminine voice. She wore colorful dresses that enhanced her beauty. I felt drab and plain next to her. Thus, began my dislike of my dark, frizzy afro.

    As I grew older, the name calling occurred. I was called zebra, Oreo, and n*gger. I spent a lot of my youth in tears.

    I wish I could say that it got easier as I grew older. I grew envious of the blonde girls, who caught the boys’ attention. I even envied my two sisters. One had no trouble getting boys to like her, and the other had beautiful hair that fell naturally down her neck in wavy curls.

    However, entering the seventh grade solidified my hatred of my skin color and frizzy hair.

    I sat in the back of my math class working on my assignment, while passing notes to my friends. Exhibiting a form of bravery, I tossed a note to my secret crush named Mike. He wrote back which pleased me.

    In one particular note, I asked him why he didn’t like me. As I handed it to him, I hoped with all my might that he’d tell me I was wrong. When he gave me the note back, he smiled, and I grew hopeful. I opened it and tears formed in my eyes. My heart plummeted to my stomach and bile rose to my throat. His words seared my brain as if he said them aloud.

    “Because you’re ugly.”

    Devastation enveloped me. I crumbled up the note, but the words couldn’t be as easily destroyed like the piece of paper. It sat in the back of my mind as an explanation to me why boys didn’t like me.

    In ninth grade, I was called a dog and had spitballs spat at the back of my head. I left them there, too embarrassed to even rummage through my thick frizzy mass to find them.

    “Why did you let them throw spitballs at you?” the substitute teacher asked me after class, as she removed the wet globs from my hair.

    I shrugged and left the room thinking, “Why didn’t you stop them?”

    By the time I graduated from high school, I pretty much gave up on finding somebody to love me for me. I did go on dates, but I had to do the asking. Even as I went out with them, I could tell that they’d have preferred to be anywhere else but with me.

    I struggled with my self-esteem but hid it all behind a smile. I decided to just be myself, be friendly, be kind, and smile. In private, I would cry as I wrote my feelings in stories and journals.

    Then one day at the college computer room, I met Rick. He spoke to me and showed an interest in me. When he asked me out, I accepted. Unfortunately, my life never went like I had hoped. I got pregnant. He left me.

    Deciding to keep my baby, I raised him with the help of my parents and went back to college to get my degree. I decided then to focus on myself and my little boy. Naturally, obstacles surfaced, but I chose to be myself and incorporated five strategies that slowly helped me start liking myself.

    1. I practiced self-care.

    Although self-love needs to come from within, I knew I’d feel better about myself if I put more effort into my appearance, so I bought new clothes and changed my hairstyle. This reinforced that I was worth the effort. Wearing flattering clothes and makeup enhanced my skin tone and body shape.

    I also took care of myself mentally by reading books that centered on personal growth and following steps to keep my thoughts positive, such as reciting positive affirmations and being more aware of my negative thoughts so I can reframe my thinking patterns.

    Taking care of my mind and body really helped me see myself differently. When I felt more comfortable in my skin and more at ease in my own mind, my self-confidence grew.

    2. I stopped worrying about what people thought.

    I had always been shy and introverted, and I was afraid of being judged. Being in college helped me break out of that shell. I spoke up in class and asked questions. I stopped worrying what people would think about me because I knew this was holding me back. My entire focus centered on what I wanted to learn and get from the classes I took.

    My best friend at the time told me that I should walk with my head up and back straight. She taught me that with my shoulders back and my head held high, I’d appear confident, and when I felt confident, no one’s opinions could hurt me. I adopted that form, and believe me, it felt great to walk with extremely good posture and feel the confidence exude from within me.

    3. I focused on the positive.

    Being positive had always been hard. I would wallow in self-pity and then wonder why I didn’t have many friends or couldn’t get a date. I changed my mindset and focused on the good things in my life and positive changes I wanted to make.

    I spent a lot of time with my son and worked on my writing skills, because being a writer was very important to me, and still is! I learned everything I could about business management and continuously developed my skills. I also started hanging out with positive people with healthy self-esteem and emulated their free spirit and vivacious personalities. Spending time around people who see the world through a positive, empowering lens has helped switch my mindset and feel better about myself and life.

    4. I started smiling more.

    By smiling more, I felt positive and happy more often. I wanted people to view me as someone approachable and friendly, so I smiled and showed my courtesy to those around me. It’s amazing what a smile can do for yourself as well for others. Smiling at someone in passing could touch that person and ease whatever pain they’re enduring. It could brighten their day and, and in turn help you feel good about yourself.

    When I was on my way to work one day, after picking up a hot chocolate at a nearby food court, I walked down a few steps toward the exit. An unkempt man entered and held the door open for me. I flashed him a smile and thanked him. He did a doubletake and then smiled hesitantly at me. It was then that I realized the power of a smile. It made me feel good to acknowledge this man because of a courteous gesture on his part.

    By being kind and grateful, I shared a moment with a complete stranger and it felt good.

    5. I found the courage to be myself.

    After practicing the steps above, I was no longer afraid to be myself. I broke out of my comfort zone and even spoke in public at church and seminars I took. Being myself freed me from living in a shell, where the walls I had built at a young age came crashing down.

    Today, my skin color no longer bothers me. I still hate my hair, but that’s beside the point. The fact is I realized that it wasn’t my skin color that was stopping me from making friends and finding love. It was me all along. I need to love and take care of myself first before anyone else could love me.

    I now have a wonderful, gorgeous husband who treats me the way I’ve always wanted to be treated by a man. He values me and loves everything about me—flaws and all!

    Exercising these five strategies created a life for me that I’m quite proud of. In retrospect, I wish I could tell my teenage self that life will get better, just be patient, and enjoy your naturally built-in tan.

    I’m proud to be half black and white. It is a blend of both my parents, who I love very much. Without them, I wouldn’t be the woman I am today.

  • Feeling Burnt Out? Meet Toxic Productivity & Grind Culture with Rest

    Feeling Burnt Out? Meet Toxic Productivity & Grind Culture with Rest

    “Caring for myself is not self-indulgence, it is self-preservation, and that is an act of political warfare.” ~Audre Lorde

    When you hear the word “productive,” you likely think of something positive: busting through that work assignment, making your house sparkly clean, or crushing your hobby.

    Productivity is what we all aim for, right? On workdays and even on our days off, we seek to make something happen.

    Grinding and hustling are seen as admirable, and something to work toward, always.

    If we fall short, we beat ourselves up, and sometimes even drag ourselves off the couch to force ourselves into productivity. We feel if we don’t complete all of the tasks, we’ve failed. We set crazy high expectations for ourselves then hate ourselves when we don’t meet them.

    What would happen if we scaled back, even just a little? What if we included rest in our practice?

    It seems we’d fall apart, we’d become piles of mush, not contributing to society or our own lives. This is bullsh*t. Toxic productivity grinds us down, not forward.

    The need to be productive all the damn time impedes our ability to enjoy life and take a breather once in a while.

    I’m not saying that all productivity and hustle are bad. I’m saying the culture around needing to be a robot of a human, producing 24/7, is what gets us into trouble.

    I’m guilty of it myself. When I got my first big girl job out of college, I worked for a fancy tech start-up. I was amped to be given so much responsibility at age twenty-three, so I worked all the hours I could to prove I was capable.

    The “work hard, play hard” culture was pushed at my job. After all, we had a ping pong table, avocados in our snack room, and bean bag chairs to nap on. Who needs an apartment when you’ve got everything at work?

    That was my mindset. I grinded, early mornings and late nights, extra coffee and minimal sleep. It was almost cool to be working in the office on a Saturday.

    I had a coworker who slept at the office multiple nights a week. We all thought she was crazy, but I wasn’t far off.

    On top of all my work, I had a gazillion hobbies. I was running a blog, playing hockey, volunteering at my meditation center, attending twelve-step meetings, and trying to date.

    The grind never ended. When did I rest? Never. Rest was for the wicked.

    It all eventually caught up to me when, one dreary winter evening, I sat in my therapist’s office sobbing about how I didn’t want to be alive anymore. I had burned the candle at both ends for too long, and it had all become too much.

    I was sent to a mental hospital, and my whole life came crashing down. I had been institutionalized for two whole weeks when I began to reconsider my life.

    “Is this what I want for myself?” I thought. “Can I even keep going like this?”

    The answer was no. My work and life patterns were not sustainable. I couldn’t keep “yes-ing” everything and everyone.

    Something had to give. I was bursting at the seams, with no coping skills to tie me together again. With no choice, I had to give up my job and submit to my healing.

    For a year, I didn’t work a full-time job. It was very unlike me. I was privileged to get on disability and was able to take the time to pick apart my life to find what wasn’t working.

    What I found to be toxic was the grind, or the pursuit of always needing to be doing something. It ate away at me and my perfectionist tendencies, always wanting to be the best.

    Instead, I embraced rest. I know I’m privileged in this because not everyone has the same chance to do such a thing. Some have no choice but to work forty-plus hours a week.

    Still, even now, with a full-time job, in grad school, in a relationship, and with several hobbies, I carve out space for rest. I know how important it is to my overall well-being.

    I do this by giving myself some space on a certain day of the week to just do nothing. I have full permission to kick back and do whatever I please: nap, read a book, watch tv, lay in the grass. The point is to not have to be productive for some time.

    Not only do I give myself an entire day, I try to carve out moments all throughout the week where I can just take a deep breath and be. Whether that’s getting up for a stretch or walk from my work computer or cuddling with my roommate’s cat for a moment, I enjoy life.

    Life isn’t just about how much I can produce. Being able to rest is essential to being the best human I can be and enjoying this short amount of time I have on Earth.

    The way that I suggest to drop the grind culture and toxic productivity is to examine your life. Ask yourself these questions:

    • Am I pushing myself beyond my limits?
    • Do I have too much on my plate?
    • How am I beating myself up?
    • What can I prioritize?
    • Where can I include more rest?

    Take a look at your life and see where you fall victim to toxic productivity. But don’t be overscrupulous! The point is to peek, not scour.

    With this information, you can make informed choices that intentionally include rest. Rest is the way out of this mess. Sometimes my productive brain even tells me, “If you rest, you’ll be able to work harder!” Maybe, but that’s not the point.

    The point is we need to recharge. There’s a reason why we sleep almost a third of our lives; we need the respite. Look at working out, one needs to rest in order to rebuild.

    Our bodies are sending us cues left and right that it’s what we need to do, but we often don’t listen until it’s too late and our gauge is past empty.

    You don’t need to wait until you’ve been hospitalized to rest. You can choose it today, in whatever increment makes sense for you. I promise it’s worth it.

  • How I Overcame My Chronic Digestive Issues by Learning to Breathe Right

    How I Overcame My Chronic Digestive Issues by Learning to Breathe Right

    “If you know the art of deep breathing, you have the strength, wisdom and courage of ten tigers.” ~Chinese adage

    Let me share a little secret: I started healing from decades of debilitating chronic digestive issues when I stopped looking for the next best solution and trying to heal. Instead, I did nothing. And I took a breath.

    Let’s start at the beginning. I was diagnosed with Crohn’s disease (an irritable bowel disease) at the age of eighteen, which would have marked the beginning of my oh-so-anticipated adult life, but instead, I thought my life was over.

    I had every symptom you can imagine—constant bloating, diarrhea, non-stop pain that would keep me bed-ridden for days. There were nights when I would fall asleep hugging my toilet. I could not keep food down and lost twenty-two pounds.

    My dream of going out and having fun with friends, stuffing our bellies with fondue and wine (typical French dish—I was living in Paris at that time) and so many more experiences I was anticipating, were slipping away from me. Instead, a painful, horrible reality was settling in fast.

    After being given medication for life and the advice to “manage my stress” by doctors, suffering from side effects from the treatment with no signs of getting better, I became my own wellness warrior.

    For a decade I went on a crusade for the “right” answer. I experimented with so many diets—the elimination diet, the low FODMAP diet; I quit carbs, then reintroduced them but took out gluten and dairy, while sitting in the lotus position as much as possible to reduce my stress and manage my anxiety. Sound familiar?

    Yet I had no real, sustainable improvements. My flares kept coming back. I realized healing had become my identity. I was desperately trying, looking for the next best wellness promise that would alleviate my symptoms.

    It was exhausting, but I desperately wanted to feel better.

    To not be afraid that any food, as healthy as it may be, would trigger a parade of symptoms. To not have to go to a meeting thirty minutes early to ensure I got the seat closest to the bathroom. To not be defined by my bowel disease and to live my life to the fullest.

    The day I had my first “pooping accident” in the middle of dinner with friends I realized something had to change.

    My quest for the best solution to heal my gut was so desperate, obsessive, and life-consuming that I almost stopped breathing. And when I took the time to take a step back and do nothing, it dawned on me: I had been so disconnected from my body that I literally did not remember how to breathe. 

    I don’t know if my anxiety affected my breathing pattern, which exacerbated my gut disease, or whether my gut disease caused my stress and anxiety, which changed my breathing pattern.

    Either way, a digestive issue, in any form, has as its main root cause what is going on in our head: our self-talk, our stress triggers, more than the foods we eat.

    The connection between our gut and our mind is strong and undeniable. Our digestive tract has its own nervous system and it sends constant information to our brain, our central nervous system.

    We’ve all said to ourselves or to others “trust your gut,” “go with your gut,” “I have a bad / good gut feeling.” It is literally the nervous system in your digestive tract sending signals to your brain that something is wrong or right!

    Similarly, we’ve all heard about foods that help balance our gut microbiome (the trillions of organisms that live in our gut)—fermented foods, probiotics, clean fiber-rich foods to feed our good bacteria. But how often do we hear about our true gut feelings—fear, anxiety, sadness, dread—that can actually kill all the bacteria in our gut we tried so hard to feed through nutrition? And how do we diminish them?

    If we focus on just nutrition to lower the symptoms of the gut, it is only one part of the picture. We have to look at our whole body and ourselves as a whole person. So by also focusing on diminishing stress, anxiety, and depression we can reverse the issues in our digestive system.

    Beginning to Breathe the Right Way

    Eventually, after seven years, I became tired from outsourcing my healing powers to “experts,” and I realized that the solution was not in another medication or diet but rather in my own hands. I took some time to listen to my body and to my breath. I had to re-learn how to breathe right to be re-connected to my body (and my gut).

    I noticed that what goes on in my brain is felt by my gut. When I felt stressed, my gut felt it too. Friends and family advised me to chill out or relax, but if you are dealing with a life situation that is super stressful, it’s hard to know where to start.

    So I took the first step and put one hand on my belly, the other resting on my diaphragm, and gave them love. I told myself, “I am safe, and I trust my body will guide me toward the path to wellness.” I focused on my breath as my belly rose and my diaphragm followed, and as I exhaled, I let go of every thought that was holding me back from my true healing.

    At first, I was overwhelmed with emotions of sadness and self-blame. How could I have let myself become so disconnected from my own body, my own breath? But as I stayed with these feelings and focused on my breath, I reconnected with my body in an unprecedented way. I felt strong, vibrant, and grounded in a way that I had never experienced before. I developed faith that that my body is a beautiful tool that knows what it needs to heal.

    If given half a chance, the body will heal itself by itself. We just need to stop and let it.

    I moved from being obsessed with healing to a space of not trying to heal, of doing nothing, and that is where my healing started. That state of “nothing” allows the little voice in your gut to come out—first quiet, injured, and confused and then a little clearer and more resilient each day.

    That is the voice that you need to acknowledge. Get familiar with it. Learn to trust it. Because this is where your healing and the life of your dreams begin.

    How to Optimize the Power of Your Breath to Benefit Your Gut

    1. Recognize stress.

    Stress manifests in various ways. You might experience it when you cook and your children are wrapped around your ankle, or when you have to spend time with someone you don’t want to see.

    Whatever causes you stress, you will be able to tackle it when you learn to recognize the first signals of stress in your body: a racing heart, irritable bowel, sweating, redness in your face, muscle tension, or jaw clenching.

    Take some time during the day to check in with how you are feeling.

    Go to a quiet place even for two minutes. Put your feet on the ground and feel the sensation of groundedness. Imagine you are at the roots of a big, majestic tree. Do you feel tingling in your hands, a burden on your chest, a pounding in your head?

    Do you experience feelings of anger? Fear? Joy? Anxiety? Happiness?

    Stay with these feelings. Tell yourself that you are safe. Breathe through those feelings and sensations.

    When we slow down and breathe mindfully we are allowing the mind to unpack the stress that can stimulate gut irritation.

    2. Get out of your head and into your body.

    I used to feel anxious and fearful about being in debilitating pain for the rest of my life. I wanted to stop feeling this way so bad. We all want to get rid of uncomfortable feelings as quickly as possible, but this can actually create more anxiety. Stress and anxiety disconnect you from your body, and you get cut off from emotion and intuition.

    It’s natural to feel fearful or anxious when something stressful happens, or we’re thinking about what’s going to happen in the future. But if we focus on what could go wrong, we catastrophize and our internal monologue can derail us.

    It’s important that you don’t criticize yourself for these feelings. Instead, love yourself through it by saying, “This is a normal response to my circumstances, which are stressful or difficult. It’s okay to feel this way.”

    Then do something to get out of your head and into your body. Do some light stretches, take a walk, dance to your favorite song. Anything that gets you physically moving will help you stop obsessing and dwelling.

    3. Calm anxiety by accepting it.

    When we let anxiety run its course without fighting it, it reduces. Fighting the feeling of anxiety is what can trigger a panic attack.

    You may have heard of the phrase “what you resist persists,” and you may have experienced it.

    Recognize and understand your anxiety: Tell yourself, “I feel anxious and nervous because I’m worried about …”

    Then, just breathe: Inhale and exhale slowly for several deep breaths.

    As you continue with this practice, you will get in tune with your body and learn to trust it.

    4. Learn to breathe the right way.

    How are you breathing? Through your mouth or your nose? Maybe you haven’t ever noticed how you breathe. That was me for so long until I started paying attention.

    We should be breathing through our nose. Breathing through our mouth tends to stimulate upper chest breathing, which is more shallow. It places our body in a state of stress, which increases inflammation. When we breathe through our nose, we breathe calming breaths through our diaphragm.

    Studies have shown that when we breathe through our diaphragm we are massaging our internal organs, including our intestine, reducing inflammation.

    Breathing through the nose allows us to breathe more efficiently and stay in a state where the body can heal itself.

    How Should We Start Breathing Correctly?

    Become aware of how you are breathing throughout the day. When you catch yourself breathing through your mouth, switch and breathe through your nose. If you feel stressed or anxious, that is an indication that you are breathing through your mouth.

    Try breathing through your nose as much of the time as possible. The more you practice it, the more you’ll train yourself to calm down quickly.

    Next time your physical symptoms arise, instead of looking for the next best solution and trying to heal, creating stress and anxiety, take a breath and ask your body: What do you need to heal?

    Then listen to the signs it gives you, as it is the perfect medicine for you.

  • How Perfectionism and Anxiety Made Me Sick and What I Wish I Knew Sooner

    How Perfectionism and Anxiety Made Me Sick and What I Wish I Knew Sooner

    “Perfectionism is the exhausting state of pretending to know it all and have it all together, all the time. I’d rather be a happy mess than an anxious stress case who’s always trying to hide my flaws and mistakes.” ~Lori Deschene 

    “That’s not how you do it!” I slammed the door as I headed outside, making sure my husband understood what an idiot he was. He’d made the appalling mistake of roasting potatoes for Thanksgiving instead of making stuffing.

    He was cooking while I studied, trying to make sure I got a semblance of a holiday. We lived away from our families, and I had exams coming up. I was on the verge of losing it most of the time—and he was walking on eggshells. Or roasted potatoes.

    I was in my first year of law school. Every student knows that if you look to your left and then to your right that one of those people won’t be there next year—they will have dropped out or failed. I was terrified of failing.

    Every morning, I had a pounding headache that no amount of painkillers touched. My shoulders sat permanently around my ears (try it, you’ll see what I mean). I had insomnia, was highly irritable, and often felt panicked. 

    My friendly barista made me a triple vanilla latte each morning at 7:00, and by 10:00, I was out of energy. I bought Red Bull by the case to get through the rest of the day, and in the evening, I’d switch to red wine. My digestive system was distressed to say the least.

    I was hustling so hard, trying to get it all right. And then, I got a C on my Torts midterm. And sobbed for three days.

    I know this must sound ridiculous. A big part of me thought it was. I beat myself up for being such a “drama queen” and not being able to move past it.

    But at the time it was devastating. My sense of self-worth was so inherently tied to my achievements that I felt like a giant failure.

    I didn’t tell anyone. I was too embarrassed. What would they think of someone who got that upset?

    I knew that I appeared to be highly functioning externally, and that was something. I had friends, I went out to dinner, I went to the gym, I walked on the beach. Internally, though, I was in turmoil.

    My husband encouraged me to go to the doctor. He could see how hard I was on myself and how it was impacting me. As I relayed my physical symptoms, she asked whether I was under much stress. I replied, “No, not really. Just the usual.”

    I didn’t know what to tell her. Partly because I’d lived much of my life this way and didn’t know it was anxiety, partly because I felt so out of control, partly because I was ashamed, partly because I assumed she’d only be able to help with the physical.

    And … part of me knew that saying it out loud would shatter the illusion of having it all together. 

    So, I went away with a diagnosis of irritable bowel syndrome. It wasn’t funny, but it makes me laugh now. My bowel was definitely irritable, but that irritability was nothing compared to what was going on in my head. It was a piece of the problem, but certainly not the whole problem.

    It wasn’t so long ago that I figured out I’d struggled with anxiety for a long time before I even knew what it was. Like many of us, I learned that if a feeling wasn’t “positive,” it wasn’t acceptable. So I stuffed down all the “negative” emotions we’re not supposed to have: fear, rage, jealousy, and sadness.

    Because I’m a highly sensitive person, I have a lot of big, deep feelings. A lot to shove down, or suppress, deny or project. I was good at this, and I looked down on people who expressed their feelings.

    I thought they must be needy. The truth is, I was scared of my feelings. And I didn’t know I had needs.

    Rather than daring to let either my feelings or needs show, I used perfectionism to make it seem like I had it all together. Perfectionism made me feel like an anxious mess. But I couldn’t admit that because it would be acknowledging a problem.

    That makes it hard to ask for help. It’s also exhausting. As Lori Deschene said in her quote at the beginning, “I’d rather be a happy mess than an anxious stress case always trying to hide my flaws and mistakes.”

    Life is hard enough without stressing about how we appear to everyone else. It’s just not worth it. When I allow myself to be fully human, I can laugh at myself, talk about my struggles, and show up in my imperfections. It makes life so much easier.

    Here are five things I wish I’d known earlier:

    1. Perfection is unattainable because it can’t be quantified.

    What is perfection anyway? Do we actually know? I don’t.

    It’s something I kept setting up for myself—an arbitrary standard I thought I was supposed to meet. But once I’d achieved something, I was already looking for the next thing.

    Where does it end? It doesn’t, and that’s the problem.

    2. No one looks back on their life and wishes they’d had worse relationships.

    This seems obvious, but it’s something I think about. I don’t know if I’ll ever completely untie my self-worth from my achievements, or find an amazing balance where I feel fulfilled yet not striving. Maybe? One can hope.

    I do know that when I’m on my deathbed, that’s not what’s going to matter. My people will matter. And I don’t want my striving or perfectionist tendencies to get in the way of those important relationships.

    3. Anxiety feels very real, and it’s just a feeling.⁠

    If you’ve experienced anxiety you’ll know how awful it feels. For me, it’s a racing heart, shaking hands, flushed face, and a feeling of dread.

    It’s important to remind yourself to breathe. And to keep breathing. It will pass.

    Anxiety is fear, and fear can’t hurt you, as much as it can seem like it might.

    4. Anxiety is the stress response in action. It’s physiological and nothing to be ashamed of.

    Anxiety was my brain telling my body that it believed there was a dangerous situation. That’s it.

    While the fear of falling short is hardly a saber toothed tiger running toward you (as our cavemen ancestors had to worry about), my brain didn’t know the difference. And where’s the big stigma in that? To be clear, I believe there should be no stigma around mental health either, but I’m painfully aware that there is.

    Reminding myself there was no tiger, and thus no real danger, was useful.

    5. Imagining the worst in every situation isn’t as helpful as you’d think.

    Going straight to the worst-case scenario did seem helpful at the time. On some level, I believed if I could plan for the worst, I’d be prepared for it. But it can also create a lot of unnecessary anxiety about unlikely (even extremely unlikely) possibilities.

    For example:

    “If I get a C, I’m not going to make it through the first year. I’ll get kicked out. That would be a disaster. It also means I’m a failure. People might pity me. They will definitely think differently of me.”

    Helpful thoughts would have been:

    “If I get a C, that means … I got a C. Nothing more. Perhaps I could learn differently. Perhaps I could seek extra help. Or perhaps I could remember that I’m doing my best and that is enough.”

    Unravelling what fuels anxiety, learning to manage it differently, and being able to extend a lot of compassion to myself has been a journey. Wherever you’re at with yours, I hope something here makes a difference for you.

  • The Simplest Ways to Find Calm in the Middle of Life’s Constant Chaos

    The Simplest Ways to Find Calm in the Middle of Life’s Constant Chaos

    “When you are resting because you are worn out, you need to remember that you are not wasting time. You are doing exactly what you need to do. You are recovering.” ~Unknown

    I woke up at 3am when I heard my alarm ring. I slowly pulled my arm away from my son, who was half holding my arm and half lying on it, so that he didn’t wake up. I tip-toed out of bed while my husband and my son were sleeping.

    My eyes ached and were blurry from sleep deprivation. My head felt like I was floating in the air. But even so, I couldn’t sleep any longer.

    Knowing that just in a few hours, I would have another fully busy day at work, with deadlines all over my head, and I’d have to deal with all the mails marked “urgent” yesterday before getting to today’s mail.

    My sleepiness went away quickly as I started to feel butterflies in my stomach. Not in a good way.

    The deadlines, the rush and anxiety, all kicked in. I felt like I wanted to cry. And so I did a little.

    But I felt like I shouldn’t feel that way, that I should be grateful instead.

    The whole pandemic gave people hell. And I am so lucky that my family is safe, and we are doing fine.

    My husband could not work for six months, and I have been the sole provider since. But I am lucky that I still have a job.

    Compared with how other people go through their days, I should be grateful.

    But on a wild thought, I just wanted to open my laptop and send a resignation mail right away.

    Because I was tired.

    I was tired of being the sole provider.

    I was tired of trying and pushing so hard.

    I was tired of taking care of other people.

    I was tired of getting tired but not being able to sleep.

    I was tired of getting up so early alone.

    I was tired of working at different jobs all the time.

    I was tired of not getting enough breaks or not saying “screw it.”

    But I can’t. I have a family to take care of, I have a little boy to worry about.

    Being strong, being resilient is the only choice I have.

    So I turn on some music when feeling lonely, wipe my own tears when having a mental breakdown. Tell myself to stay strong, and always keep going forward.

    But today, I woke up and realized, I don’t have to feel that way.

    Life gives me responsibilities not to break me down. Responsibilities are the sublimation of love.

    Because of love, I wake up early and work while others are still sleeping.

    Because of love, I agree to do different jobs to be able to take care of my loved ones.

    Because of love, I need to take care of myself first.

    Because not only do I love them, but they also love me and want me to be happy.

    I realize I am not a superhero that never makes a mistake. I am a human being. I screw up sometimes. I oversleep sometimes. I miss deadlines sometimes. I act stupidly sometimes. I get lazy sometimes.

    And it is okay.

    It is okay for me to slow down and take a deep breath.

    It is okay to take a break so that I don’t get burnt out.

    It is okay to make mistakes and say “I don’t know” with pride.

    It is okay to know that I cannot control every single aspect in my life, and the good thing is I don’t have to.

    Because that’s how unexpected things happen. That’s the fun of life.

    And I know there is always a place that I belong and find peace: my home, my family, my heart.

    If you are like me, feeling the world is fighting against you, here are a few simple ways to find calm in the chaos.

    1. Stop what you are doing and take a deep breath.

    I learned this technique through one of Louise Hay’s books. You take a deep breath, tense your body as hard as you can, and hold it for a few seconds. Then release and exhale.

    Do it a few times whenever you feel worried or stressed. The butterflies-in-the-stomach feeling quickly dissolves.

    2. Find a peaceful place.

    No, you don’t have to call your boss to ask for an immediate vacation on a beach, nor do you have to go to the bathroom and cry (though you can do either if you think it would help).

    Look inside yourself and find your peaceful place—or person.

    Who do you love? Who do you do this for? Remember, responsibility is the sublimation of love.

    When I’m at work and I am about to have a panic attack, after taking a few deep breaths, I pull out my son’s videos and pictures. I remind myself that I love him, and he loves me no matter what.

    He gives me a reason to believe that I am worthy and I am loved and gives me the strength and motivation to keep going.

    3. Meditate daily, even just for five minutes.

    I learned that meditation is not about clearing your mind and thinking of nothing; it is about accepting who you are and not letting your wild thoughts control you.

    Don’t worry about learning how to meditate, just sit down in stillness as an act of love for yourself. Be present, aware of your thoughts.

    You will soon realize that meditation helps to untangle your thoughts so you don’t feel controlled by the chaos in your life.

    4. Thank yourself.

    Have you done it today? Have you thanked yourself for all the good you do and stopped to think about how proud of yourself you are?

    Look at how amazing you are taking care of your loved ones, how their lives are much better because of you, or how brave you are in all the things you do, or even how you are aware of this moment. There are thousands of reasons to be proud of yourself.

    Most of us focus more on what we think we’re doing wrong than all the things we’re doing right, and this creates a constant sense of anxiety. If you give yourself a little credit instead, you’ll likely feel instant relief. So remember to thank yourself at every chance you get.

    —

    When life gets busy and overwhelming, it’s tempting to think you can’t relax until everything gets easier. That you need to escape or make it all stop, which generally isn’t an option. Fortunately, we don’t have to make major life changes or run away to find a little peace.

    Calm is not when you are at the beach enjoying a drink. Calm is right there in the middle of the storm. Calm is in your heart.

  • How I Broke My Stress Eating Habit When Nothing Else Worked

    How I Broke My Stress Eating Habit When Nothing Else Worked

    “The pain seems so much more difficult than the cookies. But it’s not. The pain covered in cookies becomes pain covered in fat covered in more pain.” ~Brooke Castillo

    Do you ever eat when you’re stressed, sad, tired, alone?

    Bag of chips after a hard day?

    Ordering the take-out when your partner’s away?

    I did.

    Seven years ago, my newborn baby cried every evening.

    I’d feed her, change her, and blow raspberries on her neck. Still, she screamed—like a smoke alarm you couldn’t stop.

    I tried singing to her, burping her, begging her…

    I felt useless, desperate.

    In my journalism job, before maternity leave, I’d often doubted my capability. But my new job as a parent? Totally out of my depth.

    I envied my husband, swanning off to the office. The second he got back, I’d thrust the howling baby at him.

    “Tell me what to do!” he’d yell over the din.

    At my wits’ end, I’d put on the sling, wrestle her in, and head into the Berlin streets.

    If I bounce-walked, muttering “Hi Ho, Hi Ho, it’s off to sleep we go” four billion times, she’d sleep. Then I’d feel like I deserved a medal. Or, failing that… an ice cream? (My district was renowned for boutique ice cream shops.) Black cherry and mascarpone! Perfect.

    “Dinner’s ready,” my husband would say when we got back. I’d wipe my chin. Afterward, I’d be mega full.

    First few times it happened, I promised myself I’d nix the habit before anyone noticed. But every day from then on, when the witching hour arrived again, you know where I’d go. Before long, I knew every kiosk, every flavor, and often ran to double scoops.

    Honestly? I was overeating at home too.

    When my baby girl dozed off breastfeeding, I didn’t dare move a muscle. I’d sit there, peeling slices of Emmental out the packet.

    It was fifteen years since I’d recovered from binge eating and bulimia, so this new eating problem was scary. Plus, my post-baby waist already bulged over my leggings.

    Over the next couple of months, I Googled emotional eating tips for what to do instead.

    I tried substituting healthier snacks, but ate whole bags of carrots and prunes.

    I tried to “feel my feelings” more, but as I wallowed in self-pity, I wondered if I was doing it right.

    I talked to my friends. Over coffee and cake, of course.

    I read a book about mindful eating. On my phone, over lunch.

    The fact is, I was just trying superficial fixes, without understanding how my mind worked.

    When I finally understood how emotions fuel our behaviors, it changed not just my eating, but my handling of life too. I even lost my baby weight, eventually.

    But more importantly, my emotional eating has shown me how to manage my mind.

    So, if you’re eating when you’re not hungry, whether through stress from parenthood or something else, this is for you.

    Let me show you where I got confused so you can solve your eating more easily. Because solving emotional eating isn’t complicated. It only seems hard because we get it mixed up with self-judgment, and because we think we need to take the stress away to stop the eating.

    Confusion 1: I spent time dealing with feelings that were just drama, not the real scary emotions.

    I probably should have cried more after my baby screamed so much. But I didn’t want to scare her.

    I would have liked to kneel on the floor and wail with exhaustion, and anger at the rejection I felt. Those were my heartfelt feelings. Real, raw, ugly, unflattering and immature, but true.

    By eating instead of feeling, I brushed those emotions under the carpet. And then covered the area with more mental mess: food-related self-doubt, regret, blame, failure, victimhood, despair, more eating.

    I’m not saying decluttering your brain of food drama is a waste of time—actually, in the process we learn to cut ourselves some slack, and that’s golden.

    But the shame from all the self-judgment is only the surface layer of mess, and ultimately, you have to aim to clean deeper.

    Feel deeper. Feel beyond guilt.

    Confusion 2: Believing it’s wrong to use food to numb your feelings.

    I hold my hands up: eating ice creams was pure escape. Afterward, I’d feel like I’d abandoned myself and my baby. That didn’t feel right, but it doesn’t make it wrong.

    If you’re eating to avoid your emotions, you’re not naughty, or bad, or wicked, or greedy, or weak.

    Sure, in an ideal world, we’d eat when we were genuinely hungry, not just craving relief. But eating when you’re physically hungry is a skill, not a rule. You have to learn skills. Not just beat yourself up.

    “I didn’t need to eat. Why do I always do this? I’m getting fat.” 

    It makes no sense to bully yourself into changing when you’re still figuring out how. It’d be like me yelling at my baby for not being able to communicate with words.

    My husband laughed once when I called myself an emotional eater. He was like: “What is that?”

    So I could ask that too, and tell myself: “I’m not sure what’s going on yet, but bit by bit, I’m going to understand this.”

    Big difference!

    Confusion 3: Labeling yourself as a problem person if you eat in a disordered way.

    I kept having this thought:

    I can’t help it, it’s my personality. I had eating disorders.

    To be fair, I did act like an addict.

    I mean, one minute I’d be breastfeeding. And the next minute I’d come to my senses with an empty muesli box on my side table and wheat flakes crusted onto my pajamas.

    And I’d go: What is wrong with me??

    So I Googled. Took personality tests on the internet. Felt helpless and doomed.

    Then, I read something cool: “Your personality is just a collection of habits.” Bingo! I didn’t have to label myself an “overeater” or a “binge eater” or “an addict,” which made me feel bad about myself and made it harder to stop.

    For now, I could just be “someone who overeats sometimes.”

    The grace I gave myself when I said that washed through my body like a relief.

    From thereon in, I started figuring it out, one tiny change at a time.

    Confusion 4: Playing wac-a-mole with triggers.

    A habit, as I’m sure you know, is a chain reaction. Something sparks a thought that food would be good. That trigger can be a feeling, a time of day, that buttery croissanty smell…

    So, you might think you’re at the mercy of whatever presses your buttons and start trying to avoid your triggers. But tiptoeing around triggers isn’t the answer.

    First: not practical. Avoiding your mum because she mentions your weight. Walking past Delice de France with a clothes peg on your nose.

    Second: pointless. Why? Because the reason your emotional eating began isn’t the reason you keep doing it.

    Let’s go back to Berlin—I want to show you how my emotional eating habit evolved.

    The first day I went out with my crying baby, I wasn’t intending to eat ice cream. I saw the Eis kiosk, and I thought, “I want something for myself.” That day and that day only, there was a fully conscious decision.

    My brain took notes. After that, any time I felt less-than, it said, “Let’s eat again! That was easy!” Pretty soon, I was eating whenever I felt rubbish.

    Eating biscuits, overwhelmed by my messy flat.

    Eating biscuits, resentful of others’ great sleep.

    Eating weird instant soup, because I’d run out of biscuits.

    You can’t eradicate triggers. You’d have to solve life. But breathe. You don’t have to.

    The solution to emotional eating is to not rush to solve anything.

    When I was stress eating in Berlin, I was so busy trying to solve my stress—or eating—I wasn’t really paying attention to the thoughts or feelings in each moment.

    It was all flying under my radar in a hailstorm of pretzel crumbs and salt crystals.

    I started noting the actual sentences that I’d told myself in the moments before I had overeaten. Sometimes I just wrote a word in a circle. A feeling. An urge!

    Bit by bit, I realized, I’d avoided my feelings because I thought it was bad of me to have them.

    For instance, I resented the enormous responsibility and daily duty of caring for a baby, and feared my creative, rock ‘n roll life was over—but I dismissed that feeling as selfish.

    I envied my husband for going to work and I missed my ambition—but I judged that sadness and jealousy as “ungrateful.”

    I desperately missed getting praise, or pay, or achieving things on a to-do list—but I cringed at my neediness for someone else to tell me I was doing a good job.

    Turns out, I did want something for myself. Not just an ice cream! An identity beyond motherhood.

    But with self-judgment so harsh, I can see why I couldn’t admit those feelings.

    I didn’t need to express my true feelings—to paint huge canvases, or sing my lungs out in my car.

    Or shove them down.

    Or spend any time on a psychiatrist’s couch exploring the gaps in my own upbringing.

    Or instantly solve them.

    I just had to live with the dilemma for a while. Acknowledge the emotional conflict. I needed to witness it.

    Same as I had to be there for my daughter.

    I couldn’t stop her crying! She got born, she wasn’t cool with that, and I don’t blame her—it’s a pretty exposing, vulnerable business being alive.

    My job was just to hang in there with her, going, “I know you’re crying, I’m here, I can’t make it better, but I’m not going to abandon you.”

  • Start Your Day Right with the Magic Morning Mindset

    Start Your Day Right with the Magic Morning Mindset

    “What nine months of attention does for an embryo forty early mornings alone will do for your gradually growing wholeness.” ~Rumi

    We would likely all agree that manicures, baths, and cozy movie nights on the couch all fall under the umbrella of self-care. But I believe that it’s time—actually, beyond time—to go deeper and re-claim what self-care truly means. It’s also time to see self-care as imperative, and to move it from the lonely bottom of our to-do list and plant it firmly at the very top.

    For me, self-care has become my fuel and my fire. When I claim time on my calendar on a regular basis for things like play, sister time, and self-reflection, I stay in connection with myself and the things I actually want to say yes and no to.

    Self-care is about clearing out the cobwebs in my mind with daily journaling and going to the gym. It’s about telling my husband, “I can’t make dinner for us tonight, my love; I need to go and have some time alone and take a bath after a long day.” And doing so without guilt.

    And the miraculous thing is, the more I claim time for myself, the more I overflow with generosity and patience for the people I love most. See how that works? The more I give to myself, the more I can give to others from a place of fullness.

    We would never dream of driving cross-country without stopping for fuel, snacks, and water—or trying to make the drive on an empty tank. Yet we seem to think that we can keep pushing through our own exhaustion without consequences.

    When I look back at my own journey from physically, emotionally, and spiritually falling apart, to reclaiming myself on all levels, I see it all began with a decision to stop caring so much about what others thought, and to make my own wellness, happiness, and voice priorities again.

    I began to notice that when I gave myself permission to speak up for myself in the moment, even as my voice was shaking, I left the conversation with a sense of wholeness, without any lingering emotions that were not honored.

    When I didn’t speak my mind, and held in my opinions and needs, I ended up at Best Buy yelling at the customer service manager because I had so much pent up sadness and anger from stuffing things down and being “nice.”

    The more I was honest with myself about my self-care needs, the more I could be myself with those around me.

    It all started over a decade ago. I had just dropped my son off at pre-school. As I sat in my car in front of the coffee shop where I had intended to work for a few hours, I found myself unable to get out of the car.

    I felt the tears start bubbling up, but they weren’t quite ready to flow yet. After all, I didn’t really have anything to cry about, did I? My son was healthy, my husband loved me, we had a steady income from his job, and I had the freedom to create a business.

    Our home was warm and furnished. We had friends and family to call on. Admittedly, my sister and mother were both thousands of miles away. And my best friends were on opposite coasts. But I’d thankfully found a few new friends to share the early motherhood journey with, and they were truly lifesavers for me. I’m sure I was that for them as well.

    Yet, there I sat in my car, stuck in a fog of confusion, unable to step inside the coffee shop. All I could think was, “Who the hell am I now? Where did the me that I knew so well go? And who the hell am I about to become?”

    That’s when the phone rang. It was my sister (i.e. divine intervention). She asked me how I was, and that’s all I needed to hear. The floodgates broke wide open and the waterfall of tears began.

    “What’s wrong??? Are you okay???” she asked.

    “Yes, no, yes… well, everyone is fine, I’m fine, it’s just…I don’t know what the hell I’m feeling… I’m just… sad.” There was some kind of relief in letting myself cry and saying it out loud. It felt like a valve that had been screwed on too tightly had suddenly been released.

    I realized during our conversation that part of me had been hiding for a while. This was the part of me that had been letting go of who I was little by little. As I became a wife, a mother, a resident of a new state, and a homeowner, the parts of me that were used to more freedom, more expression, and less constraint in speaking my truth, began to emerge. And this part of me was pissed, hurt, sad, and ready to run.

    But I knew that I couldn’t run back to who I was before I got married and became a mama. And I couldn’t run forward either because the ground in front of me had become uncertain; I didn’t know how I was going to step into all of these new roles while still maintaining a sense of myself. All of my attention was now focused on keeping another human alive, and being the wife of this man who was now my only family in this new place.

    Instead of running, I just imploded, but it happened slowly, over time, so that I hadn’t noticed.

    Over the last several years of hustling to build a business, raise a baby, and build a home, my body had taken a backseat to my brain and my to-do list. And now, at this very moment, after years of pain in my belly, and sheer exhaustion, my body was ready to be honored again.

    Back in the car, my sister asked me the one thing that would shift the trajectory of my life: She asked me if I felt like going to a yoga class. She said she remembered a time in our lives when I was shouting my enthusiasm for yoga from the rooftops. And admittedly, it had been years since I stood at the top of my mat and held my hands in front of my heart.

    After I stopped crying, I promised her I would get me to a class.

    The very next morning I was in this gorgeous azure blue and gold studio that would become my anchor over the next two years.

    I cried at some point during almost every yoga class for the next six months. And I slowly began to feel my body arrive in the moment again. I could feel the parts of myself that had been hiding begin to show up and talk to me on that mat. Each pose was slowly coaxing me back to myself, and molding me into the new self that I was becoming.

    About six months into my new yoga habit, Deborah, my powerhouse yoga teacher, offered a six-month yoga teacher training intensive. Even though I had no desire to teach yoga, I felt an instant yes in my heart and body.

    We met every other Saturday and every other Wednesday evening. This was the first time I committed to being away from my son on a regular basis. The guilt I spread on myself was thick, but I knew I had to do this. I knew it would be what I needed so that I could actually be present when I was home and give to my family in the way that they deserved.

    One of the aspects of the yoga teacher training was to commit to doing yoga every day. More specifically, every morning. As the mama of a young kiddo who was still not committing to a regular sleep schedule, my morning sleep time was not something I was willing to give up.

    But I trusted Deborah as my guide and mentor. She had taught me to connect with my body and emotions on a deeper level than I had ever considered before. Through movement, writing, and meditations, she showed me how to recognize my emotional triggers and to release my tension so that I did not hold it in my body for years to come (as I had been doing all of my life). So I begrudgingly decided that I was willing to try this morning yoga thing.

    I thought, “I could give up five minutes of sleep and start there.” And that is exactly how it all started. The magic was born in those first five minutes.

    I noticed something shifting for me during those first few days of my new morning commitment to be someone who wakes up a little earlier to move my body, meditate, and breathe.

    I noticed that my patience level with my son was expanding. I noticed that the things I had normally found frustrating became amusing. I was more peaceful during transitions, and my son began to notice as well. Even at three to four years old, he told me I looked happy. That was all the motivation I needed.

    Next, I committed to ten to fifteen minutes of this morning routine. And on days when my son woke up earlier, I began leaving out a little basket of toys and books that would occupy him while I finished. There were definitely mornings when he just needed me to hold him or cuddle. And that was just fine.

    I realized that this was truly an evolving practice and that he wouldn’t be four years old forever. There was no use in getting rigid about something that was meant to help me find more peace and joy.

    Over the next decade, my morning yoga turned into the Magic Morning Mindset because the more I practiced, the more I found that synchronicity, laughter, abundance, and much more began to arrive with ease and grace.

    I believe this is true for everyone. If you’re looking to take better care of yourself, mind, body, and spirit, the morning is where it starts.

    Whether your morning mindset practice is short or long, includes yoga or dance, includes writing for an hour or for just five minutes, there’s always a benefit beyond the morning hours.

    The way you start your day sets the tone for your day. Starting with the Magic Morning Mindset prepares you to be calmer, more joyful, more connected to yourself, and better able to voice your needs. By prioritizing self-care and putting it at the top of your to-do list, you’re telling yourself that your needs matter.

    What is My MAGIC Morning Mindset?

    M – Movement
    A – Alignment
    G – Gratitude
    I – Intuition (or Intention)
    C – Connection

    How Can You Start?

    1. First, set the intention that you want to create a three-step Magic Morning Mindset.

    2. If you have a hard time waking up, commit to going to bed a bit earlier (even fifteen to twenty minutes will make a difference)

    3. Decide what you want to do for your mind, body, and soul (you can find some ideas below).

    4. Set yourself up for success—lay out a yoga mat the night before, or have your journal and a few pens ready. (I can’t tell you how many pens I’ve gone through over the years.)

    5. Stay gentle by starting with five minutes.

    6. Notice how you feel throughout the day after doing the Magic Morning Mindset practice.

    Some Ideas To Get You Started

    Mind

    • Write down your dreams.
    • Just write without editing, even if it feels really weird and you’re writing nonsensical words. Just write.
    • Write ten to fifteen I AM statements: ex: I am committed, I am loved, I am happy, I am light.
    • Write any thoughts or ideas floating around in your mind until you feel lighter.
    • Journal about anything that comes up while doing these practices so that you can reflect on your journey as you go.

    Body

    • Put on your favorite song and dance.
    • Do three to five yoga sun salutations.
    • Stretch and move any way that feels good in your body.
    • Do some push-ups and jumping jacks until you feel warm in your body.
    • Journal about anything that comes up while doing these practices so that you can reflect on your journey as you go.

    Spirit

    • Sit quietly for three to five minutes just noticing your breath.
    • Choose a guided meditation.
    • Meditate any way that feels good to you (there are countless resources).
    • Start with even one minute of stillness and see how it feels.
    • Journal about anything that comes up while doing these practices so that you can reflect on your journey as you go.

    —

    As with all new things in life, you may feel excited about starting your morning with some magic at first, but then find you have less time on some days than others. Over the last decade of practicing this Magic Morning Mindset, I’ve had long stretches where I’ve felt fired up and have woken up early enough to enjoy a luxurious sixty to ninety-minute morning practice. But on some days, I’ve only been able to squeeze in five to ten minutes.

    I can feel the difference in my day when I choose to invest more time in my morning. But I don’t give myself a hard time when it has to be shorter. The secret sauce is to stay open and flexible, and to take it one day at a time.

    As long as you are showing up for yourself in some meaningful way each morning, you are saying yes to your wellness and your joy, and staying connected with yourself.

    Make this practice your own and notice the changes in your day and in your life as you prioritize your own needs and get you back on the top of your to-do list.

  • How I’ve Eased My Anxiety by Being More Present: 4 Practices to Try

    How I’ve Eased My Anxiety by Being More Present: 4 Practices to Try

    “Breathe. Let go. And remind yourself that this very moment is the only one you know you have for sure.” ~Oprah Winfrey

    In 2012, during my community college years, I began to experience mild anxiety.

    I assume it was the stress and fear that came with maintaining a good GPA in hope of transferring to a well-known university, alongside deciding what I wanted to do for the rest of my life. Or perhaps it was because of the time I knew I’d wasted slacking in high school to fit in with what I was surrounded by and to preserve my loud-mouthed drama-seeking status.

    The next few years, I thought about the past and future a lot, cried, and grasped for many breaths during anxiety attacks near the campus pond.

    In late 2016 I faced my first severe anxiety attack in the laundry room of my parents’ home while sitting against the washing machine and holding onto my legs curled up against my chest.

    For the first time ever, I felt a heavy pain in the core of my body as if there were rocks piling up all the way to my throat and closing my airway to breathe. I had never felt so disheartened, lost, empty, and hopeless.

    Soon, my anxiety attacks got to the point where I faced numbing and tingling sensations in my head, face, hands, and feet.

    It wasn’t until countless severe anxiety attacks in that I had a glimpse of awareness behind my ongoing stream of thoughts. I found that I was experiencing stress and fear about what had happened in the past or would happen in the future and realized that I’d lost the present moment.

    Many of us face day-to-day suffering through anxiety. We worry about progressing in our careers, getting an education, making a decent income, being there for our families, putting food on the table, and always working toward a means to an end.

    I realized that many of us are constantly on the run to the future trying to be certain about what’s next, and if we slip and fall along the way, we worry about why it happened, which takes us into the past—eventually emerging from an egoic-state of fears, wants, needs, and expectations. That was me.

    There’s always going to be something new that we’ll want, need, and expect while trying to stay up to par with the people and situations that surround us. We’ll spend a lot of time sulking over setbacks, failures, and loss. Ultimately, suffering from stress and anxiety will bury what we’re meant to experience, learn, and grow from in this moment, the present moment. Because we can’t fully immerse ourselves in this moment if we’re worrying about the next or regretting the one prior.

    I’ve spent the last few years exploring, reading, learning, and practicing how to heal stress and anxiety with the simple, yet profound practice of being present, conscious, and aware.

    With this practice, I’ve strengthened my ability to acknowledge and allow suffering to take its course when facing life’s inevitable difficulties and challenges.

    The following are a handful of ways I practice presence, which has not only dissolved my anxiety, but also awakened my gratitude for the great joy and peace we can experience once we become conscious and aware in this moment.

    4 Ways to Practice Presence

    1. Practice non-judgment, non-attachment, and non-resistance.

    You can lose yourself into the past and future when you’re judging, getting attached to, and resisting what is. This is because we become fixated on our wants, needs, and expectations of the moment instead of fully experiencing it. If we want to minimize our suffering, we need to be here in the present moment and allow what is to be and pass.

    I know this practice is easier said than done.

    I’ve had days where I was over the moon with immense joy during moments of achievements, when sharing laughs with family, and while celebrating milestones like my wedding. I also became attached, wanting the moments to last forever and feeling saddened that they had to come to an end.

    On the contrary, I’ve also had days where I felt gutted and devastated over the loss of my dad, and I couldn’t help but judge and resist the experience of losing him. I had expected him to be around for future milestones and heartfelt moments.

    Yet, I’ve learned that moments are undeniably and inevitably temporary. Joy doesn’t last forever, but neither does pain. Allow the painful moments to be and pass and truly savor the good ones with your presence and full attention.

    Practice being and experiencing this moment as it is without judgment, attachment, and resistance. Enjoy the good moments and learn and grow from the ones that aren’t that great.

    This will allow you to surrender to and accept the process and flow of life, which is the key to decreasing your suffering.

    2. Focus on your breath.

    Realize that you have no control over your past or future breath, only the one in this moment right now. Similarly, you have no control over what happened in the past and can never be certain of the future.

    In many experiences in life, from meditation, yoga, exercise regimes, and sports to childbirth and even suffering, we’re always reminded to just breathe. It’s the breath that guides us into the present moment where the actual being and doing is.

    Try your best to concentrate on the inhaling and exhaling momentum at a gentle and patient pace throughout your day. It’s a form of meditation that can be done anywhere and anytime to dissolve any stress and anxiety you face.

    I practice this throughout my day all the time whether I’m at work or on the couch, just to redirect my focus into the now, especially when I become aware of nonstop thoughts, which can set the stage for suffering.

    This practice brings you out of your head and into your body and allows you to immediately shift your focus away from your worries, fears, and regrets.

    3. Immerse yourself in nature.

    Have you ever felt immense peace while looking at the sunrise or sunset and a calmness when around trees, flowers, plants, rivers, lakes, and waterfalls?

    When you’re with nature, you instantly become connected to its stillness, silence, and simplicity.

    Even during the roughest storms, nature reminds us to become in sync with what is to allow the storm to take its course and pass.

    To be in nature, you don’t have to go far. Step into the backyard or take a walk around the block. Pay attention to the beauty of the flowers or the rustling wind in the trees and embrace the peace and joy that arises from it.

    You’ll find that nature truly has a way of reconnecting you to this moment.

    4. Be grateful and trust what is.

    So grateful, I whispered to myself as I stood outside in the backyard watching my puppy Oakley running back and forth on the grass, my husband playing with him and the sun setting.

    It would have been easy to lose myself to thoughts about what’s next and why I still at times feel lost and hopeless, but those thoughts never resolve how I feel and only ignite my anxiety. I decided to instead be grateful for the blessings in that moment, trust that what’s next will get here when it does, and for now, practice being present with what is.

    Be grateful for what is right now, even if you’re going through challenging times. Let your trust for the process be bigger than your fear, stress, and anxiety. When you trust the process, you tell life that you are one with its flow and allow the experience to make you stronger, teach you something new, and guide you onto a path of growth.

    Take a breath to recenter yourself into this moment and look around to see what you can appreciate. Perhaps it’s this blog, a family member, your pet, a plant, a cup of coffee, or a meal. Maybe it’s the sun or rain.

    It’s easier to let go of the past and stop trying to control the future when you’re fully immersed in the now. Whatever your life entails in this moment, be present with it, because that is the ultimate path to healing and finding your power in life.

  • How to Increase Your Sense of Control and Boost Your Resilience

    How to Increase Your Sense of Control and Boost Your Resilience

    “You may encounter many defeats, but you must not be defeated. In fact, it may be necessary to encounter the defeats, so you can know who you are, what you can rise from, how you can still come out of it.” ~Maya Angelou

    When I look back, I am amazed at how differently I dealt with adversity the first few decades of my life.

    Growing up in a stressful home primed me to experience life with caution. Whether it was being afraid of physical harm, loneliness, or failure, I’ve lived my life with an exaggerated fight-flight response to everything. Adversity seemed around every corner, and no one was ever there to save me.

    I developed maladaptive mechanisms to minimize, avoid, or go around the things I was afraid of.

    I became a quiet and obedient kid to avoid my father’s anger.

    I accepted whatever sliver of love my chronically overwhelmed mother was able to give me.

    I settled for the last pick on the team. I quit afterschool theater after I was assaulted on the way home one evening.

    I gave up on art school because my father wanted me to be a teacher.

    I went to a music school as he wanted and quietly accepted my instructor’s abuse.

    On and on, hurt and disappointment became my constant companions, and I learned to just take it. No one seemed to care that I struggled. No one saw me.

    Over time, I learned to accept that the world was just cruel and indifferent to my pain. I learned that I have little control over my circumstances. I learned that I can either fight and fail or stay quiet and survive. I learned helplessness.

    I know now that my childhood wasn’t that unique, but for a kid, it was isolating and debilitating. I thought I was the only one who struggled like this. I felt different, alone, and somehow deficient. I developed low self-esteem and anxiety that soon morphed into this chronic feeling of impending doom.

    I carried that sense of dread and defeat into adulthood. Hypersensitive to stress, I avoided things that would challenge and overwhelm me. I looked to others for permission, approval, and validation. I allowed things without a fight, latched onto any good thing that came my way, and accepted crumbs from others never daring to stand up for myself and ask for more.

    They say that what doesn’t break you makes you stronger but for many—those without a healthy foundation—life’s big and small traumas build up and eventually show up as anxiety, depression, substance abuse, or PTSD. I developed most of these.

    Resilience Can Be Strengthened

    We all respond to adversity differently. Research shows that a loving, emotionally responsive, and supportive environment during childhood fosters psychological resilience throughout life. But even if we didn’t get that strong foundation growing up, we can still build resilience now.

    We can learn to overcome helplessness by increasing our sense of control.

    Finding Peace in the Present Moment

    The most significant practice that allowed me to shift out of state of helplessness and offer me some sense of control was mindfulness.

    Instead of reliving the past—the pain, resentments, and disappointments—or worrying about the future, I could find peace in this moment, right now. I couldn’t change what happened and can’t control what’s to come, but I can decide how I move now. In this very moment, I can control how I respond to life.

    A deep inhale, noticing my child’s smile, the scent of garlic as I cook dinner—I can focus on here and now, fully absorbing life through all my senses, knowing that in this moment I am okay.

    And, if I’m feeling stressed or unsettled, I become curious instead of trying to outrun it. I start paying attention to my body, tracking sensations, observing where I’m feeling tightness, consciously releasing the tension as I breathe in and out. This way, I can help regulate my nervous system and shift the patterns of reactivity. I remind myself to breathe as I ride the wave, trusting the discomfort will eventually pass.

    Learning to Move Through Negative Thoughts

    Once I allowed myself to feel what was going on in my body in times of high stress, I began noticing what I’m thinking and feeling in the midst of turmoil.

    It can be difficult to not get overwhelmed by the negative thought patterns engraved deeply in our minds, patterns we’ve been falling into for decades, without much conscious examination. Looking at those now, I realized how detrimental my mental scripts were to my well-being.

    With the help of my journal, I learned to reframe negative events, bring perspective into my experiences, and focus on what I could learn from them.

    For example, I’ve carried with me this feeling of failure as a young parent. For those first few years, I was living in a constant state of overwhelm, and there was a lot of guilt for not being good enough of a mom, feeling like a fraud and a failure. When I took a step back, I realized there was a multitude of circumstances going against me that made this part of my life extremely difficult, and I was just doing my best.

    I had three children super close together (three under three), which in itself was a Sisyphean task. I had just moved across the country and had no real friends or family to support me. My husband worked long hours, many weekends, often out of state. It was a lot to take on, and I was virtually on my own.

    Looking at this part of my life, I realized I had unrealistic expectations of what it meant to be a good parent. I also realized my perfectionist tendencies and the relentless pressure I put on myself stemmed from my fears of perpetuating generational trauma.

    This way of thinking wasn’t constructive—it was making me miserable. Slowly, I began noticing when these tendencies showed up, and instead of feeding them, I’d just watch them come and go.

    Mindfulness allowed me to move through negative thoughts and memories instead of getting stuck in them. I would observe what was going on inside my mind, breathe through the turbulence offering myself compassion for my struggles, and remind myself that I was doing the best I can. Over time I stopped being so hard on myself, and eventually shifted out of the habit of ruminating for good.

    Enjoying Something That You Do Well

    Spending time doing something that I can do well reminds me how it feels to succeed.

    I have always enjoyed gardening. It is my escape from the hustle and stress of today’s fast-paced world—my garden is my sanctuary.

    Watching my garden transform over the decade from a lot of dirt to where it is today—with all the fruit trees, veggie boxes, shrubs, grasses, and blooming annuals—brings me a sense of accomplishment and fulfillment.

    Finding something that you do well, and practicing it regularly builds confidence, self-esteem, and fortifies a healthy ego. It is imperative to have hobbies that you excel at and can turn to in times of stress or unpredictability.

    Spending Time in Nature

    We live in a world of chronic stress and anxiety. We are always plugged in and on the go, constantly planning, thinking, and doing, all the while feeling disconnected from ourselves and the world around us.

    Modern-day life means living in our heads a lot. To counter that, we need a practice that will ground us and bring us back to balance. And nature is one of the most grounding elements that we have.

    Being in nature down-regulates our nervous system and brings about relaxation. Even a short walk can improve our mood and reduce anxiety. Disconnecting from our daily grind this way—all the responsibilities, worries, and electronics—rebalances our body, mind, and soul. Our problems become less significant and impending. We can exhale, if only for now.

    There are many ways we can ground ourselves in nature this way. Gardening, walking, or even taking care of houseplants can be grounding. I like watering my garden in the evening, repotting plants on Saturdays, and long walks around a lake on Sunday mornings. Find your own natural zen. Soak in nature’s energy as often as you can—it’s healing.

    Caring for and Nourishing Your Body-Mind-Soul

    We can’t be resilient if we are depleted.

    When my kids were little, I barely had time and energy for self-care. I neglected my needs—whether physical, emotional, or mental—just like I was raised to ignore them growing up. Self-neglect is a trauma response, and years went by before I realized I was just perpetuating old wounds.

    As a result, I felt chronically depleted and anxious. Every little mishap or challenge would stress me out, whether it was a kid’s tantrum or packing up for a weekend trip. I was living in a state of chronic overwhelm, emotional dysregulation, and low-grade depression.

    As kids grew older and more independent, my healing turned a corner. I could finally go beyond basic self-care like showers and eating well, and focus on truly nourishing my body, mind, and soul. I now prioritize self-care like my life depends on it because it does.

    Focusing on the basics, I prioritize sleep, movement, and practices that nourish and relax me—long baths, longer walks, healthy food, reading, gardening, music. I rely on boundaries to protect my energy and inner peace. I practice mindfulness and do things with intention. I plan ahead to avoid rushing or multitasking. I fill my own bucket.

    With so much out of our control, caring for ourselves—body, mind, and heart—is the one thing we can do.

    ——

    While challenging times are a given in life and we can’t always change our circumstances, we can have a different relationship with what’s going on outside of us. We can learn to surf the waves if we stay mindful of practices that strengthen resilience. And that is empowering.

  • 3 Questions Every People-Pleaser Should Ask Before Making a Decision

    3 Questions Every People-Pleaser Should Ask Before Making a Decision

    “The one thing you learn is when you can step out of your comfort zone and be uncomfortable, you see what you’re made of and who you are.” ~Sue Bird

    I am a recovering people-pleaser.

    I grew up in a hardworking, blue-collar house, nestled in a humble, rural, blue-collar town. I was instructed, both consciously and unconsciously, on how to fit in and play my part.

    My entire decision-making process revolved around what I was supposed to do, how my actions made others feel, and the impact I would have on the status-quo. I became a teacher because that is a wonderful profession for women. I underwent multiple fertility treatments because all women want to have a baby.

    I never questioned anything. I just floated along on a raft, built generations before me, carrying me down a river of inevitability. Then, one day, my raft crashed.

    I was sitting in a greasy diner, the vinyl booth sticking to my thighs. I had just endured another fertility treatment across the street. While listening to spoons tinkling against ceramic cups, I wondered why I was going through all this. Was it for me or because it’s what I thought I was supposed to do?

    I suddenly realized I had to make a choice. I could lie back in the river and let the current take me, or I could climb onto the riverbank and begin walking on my own two legs.

    I was disoriented. Training fought against instinct. Fear clashed with desire. What would people think? How would my friends and family feel? Would they be disappointed? Angry?

    Like a newborn fawn on wobbly legs, I took my first step onto the riverbank. I was afraid, but I was determined to begin walking my own path. My steps were small in the beginning—little decisions that tested the ground beneath my feet.

    With each new step, I gained more confidence. The fear, guilt, and self-doubt began to recede. I slowly reclaimed my autonomy and began to chart my own course with intention.

    Looking back on my journey from people-pleaser to self-empowered, I identified three main questions I ask myself before making a decision.

    1. Is this my priority?

    As people-pleasers, we are quick to sacrifice our own wants and needs to make others happy. We’ve been trained to dismiss ourselves for the benefit of everyone else. We’ve been rewarded for being modest, simple, agreeable, and easy. We never learn to identify what is important to us.

    Before answering yes, we must clarify our priorities. This is the foundation for healthier decision making.  Sitting in that diner booth I asked myself, “Is having a baby my priority?”

    My answer was profound and disturbing. I was trying to get pregnant because that is what was expected of me—as a woman, as a wife, as a daughter. Having a baby and being a mother was not my priority.

    I was at once relieved and frightened. That moment of clarity allowed me to decide what kind of future I would create. But that also meant that I would be going against the tide. My “training” kicked in immediately. How would my decision impact those around me? Who did I think I was to choose my own path?

    Fear arises to shove us back into our comfort zone. It’s a deeply ingrained self-defense mechanism. Fear is designed to protect, and it has a role to play when the danger is high. The problem is that, often, our fear is an overinflated response to the psychological conditioning people-pleasers have learned

    We fear the backlash that comes from expressing an independent opinion that differs from our what our family believes or what society defines as the norm. Our conditioning has us believing that being unique is less safe, and that belief holds us back from fulfilling our potential.

    Realizing we are moving in the wrong direction is the foundation to becoming self-empowered.

    2. What is important to me?

    Putting ourselves first is not a fatal condition. It’s quite the opposite. Choosing autonomy and self-fulfillment is the healthiest thing we can do. Achieving our greatest potential, self-actualization, is at the top of Mazlow’s Hierarchy of Needs. After I realized having a baby was not my priority, I asked myself, “What is important to me?”

    I had absolutely no clue. It took a long time to figure out. This was a new way of thinking. I wasn’t used to focusing on myself. I had a lot of self-doubt. I fluctuated between what I wanted and what was expected. I had to define, for the first time, who I was and what I wanted.

    It was difficult to keep refocusing on myself. I went through a process of retraining my brain and creating new habits. Everything I had been taught needed to be reprogrammed to fit my new way of being in the world.

    My transformation began with clarifying my values and priorities. I defined what was important to me. I realized that personal responsibility, continuous improvement, and positive energy were paramount to the person I wanted to be. I began to hold myself, and others, to a higher standard.

    I began to recognize when someone was using me instead of doing their own work. I realized I allowed people to manipulate me for their own gain. Once I clarified my values, it was much easier to stand up for them.

    Whenever I was faced with a decision, I asked myself, “Does this fit with what I value? Is this important to me? Is this a positive contribution?” This created a filter through which all my decisions were placed.  This filter allows me to make the decisions that are aligned with me.

    Getting crystal clear on our priorities is the roadmap for achieving our dreams and desires.

    3. How will I feel after I make my decision?

    Again, our conditioning will have us people-pleasers worrying about everyone else. It’s crucial to stay focused on ourselves and our priorities. We are flexing a new muscle.

    Putting ourselves first feels awkward and wrong because we have been taught that it is rude and unbecoming. It keeps us frozen in the ambiguity of imaginary worst-case scenarios. We need to play out the scenario and confront the questions:

    How will I feel if I say yes?

    How will I feel if I say no?

    In my case the questions were, “How will I feel if I continue the fertility treatments? How will I feel if I stop?”

    I realized that f I stopped the treatments, I would feel in control of my body and my life again. I would have more time to spend on my writing and enjoy living life with my husband again. If I continued the treatments, I would be making everyone happy except myself.

    I realized that I didn’t need to have a baby to be fulfilled. The answer became crystal clear. It was time to stop. Identifying the right decision for me was a relief.

    Would others be disappointed with my decision? For sure. Would others disagree? Absolutely. But my newly discovered self-awareness gave me a sense of peace. I replaced fear with freedom.

    In place of people-pleasing, I have become thoughtfully selfish. Being selfish has its virtues—self-awareness, self-confidence, self-fulfillment, self-care. These are all healthy ways of being selfish.

    Do more of what makes you happy.

    Making thoughtfully selfish decisions gives you the freedom to be a more generous, loving, and positive human being. Instead of worrying so much about how you will be perceived, you will feel healthier, happier, and more confident.

    Give yourself permission to focus on your needs and you will become the unique person you are meant to be. You don’t have the power to please everyone, but you do have the power to please yourself.

  • Self-Care Isn’t Just…

    Self-Care Isn’t Just…

  • How I Get Through Hard Times Using Curiosity, Compassion, and Challenge

    How I Get Through Hard Times Using Curiosity, Compassion, and Challenge

    “Sometimes the worst things that happen in our lives put us on the path to the best things that will ever happen to us.” ~Unknown

    Until I was thirty-seven, I thought I’d led a pretty charmed life: I had a supportive family and good friends, I’d done well academically, always got the jobs I’d applied for, and met and married the perfect man for me.

    In 2013, when I was thirty-five weeks pregnant with my second child, I was diagnosed with stage 3 breast cancer. My baby was induced at thirty-seven weeks, and my chemo started ten days later. In a funny way I was relieved; Okay, I thought, I’ve been seriously lucky up until now that no one has been ill in my life, so if I can survive this, then this is as bad as it gets.

    And that year was bad—moving home, caring for a toddler and a newborn, and going through aggressive cancer treatment was horrendous, but I hunkered down, tried not to think too much about it, and survived.

    In December 2014, literally as we were clinking champagne glasses to celebrate my all-clear results, my husband had a devastating call from his mum in New Zealand. She had just been diagnosed with a rare and incurable cancer. Early the following year my dad was diagnosed with stage 4 bowel cancer, and my mother-in-law died that spring.

    It was at this point I started to feel weighed down with a heaviness. This wasn’t the deal… I’d taken the cancer hit for the team, everyone else was supposed to stay well. I started to lose my trust in the world.

    My urge to control everything and everyone around me, which I now realize I have had since childhood, went into overdrive. I became fearful of change and made list upon list to organize and reorganize my life until I had anticipated everything that might go wrong and put things in place to deal with it.

    My brave dad endured a variety of invasive and aggressive treatments, but his health continued to decline. I could not control what was happening or the sense of loss and grief that at times I felt were swamping me.

    Something had to change: I started journaling, yoga, and meditation. Slowly I felt my anxiety and my panicked grip on my life begin to lessen. I looked inward and I started to notice familiar feelings and patterns, recognized myself responding to roles and labels that I no longer felt to be true.

    There were shifts; very, very small shifts, but with two small children, a husband working long hours, and a dad with rapidly declining health, even small shifts made a difference to my capacity to cope.

    Toward the middle of 2015 my husband started to get awful headaches, nausea, and dizzy spells. He was in a very stressful job, so decided to leave work at the beginning of 2016 to get his health back and decide what he really wanted to do with his life. However, in the spring of 2016 he was diagnosed with an incurable brain tumor. At that stage my children were three and five.

    The next couple of years were consumed by medical appointments for my dad and my husband, alongside the busyness that goes hand in hand with raising young children, but I continued my inner work. I examined my feelings. Was that really how I felt? Had I felt that way before? What helped then, what might help now? Is the story I’m telling myself about this true? What do I need right now?

    In spring 2018 my dad died, in spring 2019 my husband died, and in spring 2020 the UK went into its first lockdown due to Covid-19.

    Every year since 2014 I’ve said to myself, well surely the worst has happened, this year has to be better, and yet each year something else monumental and life-changing has happened. The past seven years have been relentless, and at times I have been overwhelmed by the responsibility of caring for the people I love most in the world.

    People used to hear my story open mouthed and ask, “How do you cope?” I would reply in a way designed to brush them off, remove their focus of attention, and minimize my pain by saying, “Oh well, you know, you just deal with what life throws at you.” I knew that this wasn’t true, but a flippant reply was easier than the truth. After years of continual inner work however, this is my honest reply:

    To boost your resilience, to heal, and to ultimately thrive you have to be prepared to turn over the picture-perfect patchwork quilt of your outer life that you present to the world and take a good look at the messy stiches on the underside.

    You need to be prepared to look at the messiest of those stiches and painstakingly unpick them so that you can find the knots, the tangles, and the imperfections. It’s only when you connect with your authentic self that you’re able to respond to your unique needs in times of crisis and learn what you need to do to foster your own resilience.

    The way of doing this will be different for everyone, but if I could boil it down to one pithy statement it would be to always keep in awareness the 3 C’s: curiosity, compassion, and challenge.

    Here are some ways I’ve applied this in the last seven years to help me, and perhaps these ideas might help you too.

    Allow your feelings.

    Other people are allowed to feel uncomfortable about this, but that is not your responsibility. Your responsibility is to embrace your emotions so you can process them and work through them instead of repressing, denying, or numbing them with substances and distractions.

    In my life this idea of numbing or distracting has taken shape in many ways. One is the compulsion to check my phone rather than sit with feelings of restlessness, boredom, or uncertainty. Sometimes I find myself opening my fridge or cupboard, not because I’m hungry, but because I’m anxious or agitated.

    Recently, I’ve needed to work on sitting with my feelings when I say “no” to someone and worry there will be painful repercussions if I don’t keep other people happy.

    These are all hugely uncomfortable realizations, but offer an opportunity to spot patterns—do I always reach for food after a specific event, do I always reach for my phone when I feel a certain way in my body?

    Once I’ve shown a curiosity about my choices, I can have understanding and compassion for why and challenge myself to do something else. Instead of food can I do some rounds of a breathing exercise? Instead of the phone can I practice some simple yoga poses? Can I pause before saying “yes” to something I know won’t serve me and think of the times I’ve said “no” and there haven’t been negative repercussions?

    Key questions here are: What do I really need, what am I afraid of, and how can I soothe my threat system in that moment before reacting?

    Put your needs first.

    I learned that however much I was needed by other people (and with a dying dad, a dying husband, and two small children I was needed a lot), I had to start the day knowing that at some point I was going to make time to put my needs first.

    Sometimes that was getting up early to enjoy a hot chocolate in peace, often it was taking some quiet time in nature. I joined a gym with a pool because swimming is something I find hugely supportive for my mental health, and I joined an online yoga site as I no longer had the lengthy chunks of time I needed to get to a class in person.

    Embrace ritual and routine.

    Decision fatigue contributes massively to how overwhelmed I can become; routines provide a secure framework for my family to feel supported and give me more energy for the unexpected things that life inevitably throws at me.

    My routine includes:

    • Planning my week ahead on a Sunday—I have a simple document with columns for appointments, reminders, to-do list, and well-being
    • Putting out school clothes and making lunches the night before
    • Having a grocery delivery booked in for the same day and time each week
    • Menu planning and pre-preparing simple meals for the nights of the week that I know will be busy or I am working late

    Put together a well-being toolkit.

    Explore ideas and suggestions that you might find supportive, but don’t feel beholden to it. You don’t need to use all of the tools all of the time. Learning to listen to what you need in the moment (and giving yourself permission to act on it!) is really empowering.

    My well-being toolkit includes…

    • Breathing exercises
    • Journaling
    • Yoga
    • Reading
    • Running
    • Meeting friends for tea
    • Trying out new recipes
    • Sitting still—either meditating, focusing on my breath, or just letting my mind wander

    Build a supportive team around you and know their individual strengths.

    No one person can deliver everything you need. Manage your expectations about what each treasured person can bring to your life and learn who to go to for what.

    Challenge the narratives, expectations, and labels in your life (my 3 C’s).

    Do they still serve you or feel true; where do they come from; what do you need in order to let some of them go

    There were ways I perceived myself and labels others had given me that only addressed the way I presented myself outwardly. By turning over the quilt and looking at the stiches that made up these labels with curiosity and compassion I was able to challenge them.

    For example, am I really “standoffish,” or is that just my defense against crippling social anxiety? Am I really “bossy,” or am I just frightened of how unsafe the world will feel if I lose control? Am I really “capable” or just terrified of asking for help and being rejected?

    I would never suggest this is a simple process, and reaching even a modicum of self-awareness is a daily and never-ending challenge for me. There are no black-and-white answers, so it’s important to become accepting of living in the grey area.

    Ultimately, I believe that approaching each day, every response, every feeling with curiosity invites compassion and understanding, which helps us challenge and address underlying insecurities and outdated narratives that keep us down and stuck.

    Supporting ourselves to see beyond the labels, roles, and responsibilities layered on through our lives allows for the possibility of the emergence of the authentic self.

    This is a work in progress, I am a work in progress, and always will be.

    Some days I am overwhelmed with sadness, a heavy heart, and a sense of loss; some days I awaken already infused with a sense of gratitude and joy. Every day, however, I wake up prepared to be curious and interested, to approach all interactions with myself and others with compassion, and to do what I can to challenge thoughts and beliefs that I don’t want to take into my future. I just know that next year will be a better year.

  • Why Your Anger Is the Key to Maintaining Your Boundaries

    Why Your Anger Is the Key to Maintaining Your Boundaries

    “Boundaries define us. They define what is me and what is not me. A boundary shows me where I end and someone else begins, leading me to a sense of ownership. Knowing what I am to own and take responsibility for gives me freedom.” ~Henry Cloud

    Late last night, I once again found myself unable to sleep, and boy was I angry. So, in order not to disturb my other half, who is always asleep the moment his head touches the pillow, I dragged myself off to the sofa. Once there, sat seething in the dark, I listened to my emotion and asked it to speak to me, and guess what it screamed?! Boundaries!

    Now please bear in mind that I have been on this journey for a while and had also been discussing boundaries earlier in the day, so my inner knowing came out loud and clear. For you this may not be the case, and that’s okay.

    Practical Tip 1: When you feel angry, take yourself away and write down all those racing thoughts. No judgment, just get pen to scrap piece of paper and write it all down. Do not, I repeat DO NOT, take it out on the person you feel has caused this anger.

    So, where was I? Oh yes, boundaries! Those joyful and challenging rules. That is what they are after all, rules.

    If you think back to being a child, when you broke a rule, an adult got cross. Therefore, it’s hardly surprising that anger is a messenger for when you have overstepped your boundaries, or you have let someone else break a boundary you consciously or unconsciously set.

    This is probably where I should explain the difference between internal and external boundaries.

    Internal boundaries are the rules and limits that you set for yourself. They don’t have to be shared with anyone else, but they are for you to follow. They may sound like:

    • When I finish work for the day I will take ten minutes to meditate/for myself.
    • I respect my body, so today is a non-chocolate or non-alcohol day.
    • To protect my time and mental health, I will limit time scrolling through social media to one hour a day.
    • Because I value my family, I will not take on any projects that require me to work nights or weekends.
    • To help myself let go and move on, I will do something healthy for myself every time I start dwelling on my ex and our breakup.

    External boundaries are the ones you set with the outside world. These do need to be shared, unfortunately, and can be challenging in that respect. They outline how you will allow others to treat you. They may sound like:

    • I would love to help you with this project; however, I can only give you one hour a week.
    • Please give me ten minutes when I get in from work for me to settle before we start chatting or planning dinner.
    • I enjoy seeing you, but it’s important to me that you call before coming over.
    • This topic is upsetting to me, so I would rather not discuss it with you.
    • I hate to see you two fighting, but I can no longer be the middleman in your arguments.

    Practical Tip 2: Take that page of anger thoughts and identify any boundaries, internal or external, that have been messed with.

    Have you let yourself down in some way? Or did you let someone break a boundary without gently reminding them it was there?

    Strong boundaries help us protect our time, our energy, and our physical and mental health, so it makes sense we’d feel angry when they’re violated. But oftentimes our boundaries are unclear or fuzzy, or we negotiate them without conscious awareness because we’re tempted to give in to our impulses or we don’t want to make other people feel uncomfortable.

    This is why we need to practice self-awareness and recognize which boundaries we’ve allowed to be crossed and why.

    Seething on the sofa, there I was, scolding myself for breaking a boundary that I have set and reset many times over the past few years—allowing myself at least thirty minutes of quiet wind down time before bed, with no distractions, no talk of work or anything that might get my highly sensitive nature all stimulated, making it hard to sleep.

    Practical Tip 3: Once you understand the boundaries that were crossed, the first step is forgiveness. You are a human being doing the best you can right now, and it’s okay that at times you forget to uphold boundaries with others or yourself.

    Thank the anger for drawing it to your attention, forgive yourself and resolve to do a little better each time. If you are alone, I recommend doing this out loud a few times.

    This first stage is powerful and really calmed me down, enough that I could crawl back into bed with a snoring partner and finally drift off. However, that is not the end of this lesson, dear reader. In the morning light, sat at my desk, I reviewed the boundary I’d crossed and asked myself a few questions, just like the ones in the next tip.

    Practical Tip 4: Time to review your boundaries and ask yourself:

    • Is this an internal or external boundary? Did I let myself down, or did I not uphold a boundary with someone else?
    • Why did I not maintain this boundary? How did neglecting it negatively impact me?
    • Is this a boundary I want to have? Is it time to set a different boundary? Or is there something I need to change or address to better maintain this boundary?
    • If internal, what is the purpose for this boundary? Is it in alignment with who I want to be?
    • If external, have I communicated my boundaries clearly to this person? What kind things can I say to remind them of my boundaries when they start to cross the line?

    The results of my review were that I want a balance around this boundary, as I love staying up late into the night chatting with my partner or watching TV, yet sleep is crucial to my well-being. Therefore, I have resolved that Monday to Thursday I will uphold my boundary, and the weekend is the time to relax the boundary a little.

    Over dinner I will discuss this with my partner and get his buy-in and most importantly ask for his support in helping me to uphold the boundary during the week, just until it becomes a new habit!

    Remember:

    Boundaries are just rules we set ourselves.

    Boundaries are yours to uphold regardless of if they are external or internal.

    Anger is a great messenger for boundaries you have allowed to be crossed.

    Communicate why you have a boundary with others and ask for their support.

    It is all within your control.

  • How Beating Cancer Helped Me Stop Being a People-Pleaser

    How Beating Cancer Helped Me Stop Being a People-Pleaser

    “Nothing ever goes away until it has taught us what we need to know.” ~Pema Chadron

    The hardest part of hearing the words, “I’m sorry, but you have cancer” at the age of thirty was knowing I had to tell my mother and my husband.

    Why?

    Not because I was afraid of their reaction, although it would be especially heightened since my father had died of cancer three years prior, but because I was going to take on a role I had never experienced before: a patient.

    For me, being a patient equaled being dependent. Someone who was needy and required others to change their lives to accommodate them. That wasn’t me at all.

    I was a people-pleaser. A self-sacrificer. An empath who could feel the emotions of my family members and worked hard to avoid adding to their stress. 

    I spent my entire life making things easier for those around me. I never complained. I didn’t ask for anything. I willingly gave up my desires to make other people happy.

    I built my life around the premise that I could handle everything on my own; but suddenly, my “I’m fine, don’t worry about me,” mantra was about to change.

    As a young mother with two children under the age of three, I knew that I was going to need help during my cancer treatments. And that fact was more terrifying than my diagnosis.

    Growing up, my family never had any money. My mom and dad worked opposite shifts to avoid paying for daycare, and many times, it was just me and my two older brothers fending for ourselves.

    While I never went hungry, I didn’t always have a lot of food options. I remember the days of powdered milk and wearing my brother’s old, ragged clothes.

    As an empath, I could feel the strain on my parents as they tried to make ends meet. So I learned to be quiet. Shrink down. Not make waves. No milk for cereal? Okay, I’ll just use water. Cold? I’ll just wear my winter coat in the house. I became so good at being “easy,” it became part of my identity.

    “Oh, Natalie never gives us any trouble at all” was something I took as a compliment. It was overwhelming, but over time being a people pleaser became an intrinsic part of me.

    As I grew older, life became a little easier. I got a job, started making my own money, and my parents respected my independence. More importantly, I was able to leave my people-pleasing practices behind for a little while. I went to college, then graduate school, and became a psychologist helping others live better lives.

    I was a helper, which is a more acceptable way to channel my people-pleasing lifestyle. And it worked well to keep my people-pleasing at bay. Until I became a mother.

    When I had children, my husband and I made the decision that I would stay home to raise them. While blessed to have this choice, it reawakened my people-pleasing tendencies.

    In my mind, since I was the one who stayed home, I needed to make everything as easy as possible for my husband, since he was the one going to work. All the night feedings, the diaper changes, the baths, even while recovering from complicated c-sections, my automatic response was, “I got it.”

    When my husband would interject, I would remind him how he needed sleep because he had to go to work, reply that I wasn’t tired, or that it was “faster,” if I did it.

    Was I tired? Yes. Did I sleep during the day? Anyone who has children knows the answer to that one. But that’s all I knew—how to make it easier for everyone else so I could avoid feeling their emotions. 

    When my cancer diagnosis threatened to remove my ability to handle everything on my own, I fought hard against it. I drove myself to my testing appointments, refused any support group or counseling; and I would probably have driven myself to my mastectomy and chemotherapy appointments if they would have allowed it.

    Others called me “strong,” and “stoic,” but I felt confused to hear that until my mother asked me, “Where did you learn that you have to do everything on your own? What is that about?” I shrugged; it was just how I was wired.

    Thankfully, my cancer journey passed quickly, and I was back into my routine in a few short months. I was healthy and immersed in raising children.

    Yet I started to think about my mother’s question and wonder why I consistently refused help from anyone.

    It took a few years and a lot of reading and soul searching, but I came to realize that my empathic abilities were more than just understanding how others feel, but feeling how others feel. And my people-pleasing practices were attempts to remove any feelings of discomfort from my loved ones.

    I wasn’t living authentically for myself; I was living for others. And it was time for a change. 

    Here are five ways that I transitioned from people-pleasing to self-caring:

    1. I learned about boundaries.

    Setting boundaries is one of the most helpful and basic activities that one can do to interrupt the people-pleasing process. I started to tune into my body and notice when I felt uncomfortable, whether it’s how I was being treated or if someone was asking something of me. Those were good indicators that a boundary was needed.

    2. I practiced saying no.

    I always tell my children that just because you can do something, doesn’t mean you need to.

    3. I did some self-exploration.

    My kids would ask me “What’s your favorite food?” Or “What’s your favorite color?” and I could never answer. Why? Because I was so used to going along to get along that I never developed favorites or even a basic sense of what I truly liked and didn’t like.

    4. I started journaling.

    I utilized writing to help me learn about myself. Who am I without a relationship with anyone else? I asked myself questions, listed my wants/desires, and started taking small steps towards achieving those goals.

    5. I was gentle with myself.

    I understand this is a process. I am still in recovery, but now I have the awareness to recognize when I am struggling with wanting to please others rather than myself.

    Ultimately, transitioning from people-pleasing to self-caring enabled me to become stronger, not only for myself but also for the people I care about most. It wasn’t easy to break free from the ways that I had adapted to my childhood circumstances.

    I had to rewire my brain, step by step and it’s still a process. It’s ironic that not having a choice with cancer is what ultimately gave me the freedom to change.

  • Why Rest is the Ultimate Protective Gear in a Busy, Chaotic World

    Why Rest is the Ultimate Protective Gear in a Busy, Chaotic World

    “The time to relax is when you don’t have time for it.” ~Sydney J. Harris

    No matter what airline you fly, there are safety instructions at the start of every flight that the flight crew goes over with everyone on the plane.

    The important ones are also listed out on a card or brochure located in the seat back pocket in front of you. Besides letting you know where the exits are, there is always some version of the following statement: “In the event of a change in cabin pressure, oxygen masks will automatically drop from the ceiling. Put your own oxygen mask on before helping others.”

    Many times, there’s no further explanation about this particular safety feature and procedure. I suppose that if there were, it would necessarily sound a bit dark. Something along the lines of “There’s no use ub you starting to help someone else and failing, and then both of you passing out.”

    The phrase “put your own oxygen mask on first” is so commonplace that people use it in other contexts. Medical personnel or counselors say it to caretakers when they mean to remind those people to take care of themselves; some bosses say it to their harried employees who are in the process of burning out.

    On the one hand, it’s similar to the advice given by the Six-Fingered Man, Count Rugen, to Prince Humperdinck in the movie The Princess Bride. “Get some rest. If you haven’t got your health, you haven’t got anything.” It is a way of advocating that the listener engage in basic self-care by maintaining their health.

    On the other hand, it can sound puzzling or even contrary to what we believe. What’s so bad about putting the needs of others first? Isn’t it selfish of us to prioritize ourselves when other people need us to care for them? How can we rest when there is so much to be done?

    I know I used to scoff at the idea of putting my own oxygen mask on first, but I learned the hard way to pay attention to this particular platitude.

    A little more about me, so you know where I’m coming from: I have rheumatoid arthritis (RA) and fibromyalgia. I came down with RA almost twenty years ago, when I was a single mom taking care of my two young daughters, working a full-time job as an attorney, taking care of my own house and yard, cooking, cleaning, and doing ALL THE THINGS.

    I almost never asked for help, and on the one occasion that I asked my mom to watch the kids for a weekend just so I could get a break, she turned me down. Her message, and the one I had already internalized, was that mothers don’t get to rest.

    I put my kids first, my job second, and the house third, and to be honest, I am not sure I was even on the list of my top five priorities. In the end, I paid for it with my long-term health.

    After my diagnosis with RA in 2002, I ended up on long-term disability (because I was fortunate to have good disability coverage at work). It’s been nearly twenty years, and I still can’t commit to a “regular job” outside my home because (a) stress causes my conditions to flare and (b) even if I can show up for a day or week, there’s no guarantee I can do it longer than that without my symptoms acting up.

    The link between stress and the onset of RA is fairly well-documented, and I had stress of all sorts back then. Also, and I tell you this to make it clear, I ignored myself.

    I ignored my health, my need for sleep, and my mounting stress levels. To the extent that I thought of myself and my own needs, my self-talk was a nonstop negative inner critic, constantly telling me what I was doing wrong, etc. It quickly shut down any thoughts that I deserved a break or any assistance.

    I was so low on my own list that I ran myself down when all the caution lights were flashing. I now have chronic health issues and am considered immune-compromised due to the medications I take for my RA. I no longer practice law since a full-time job or even any regular work outside my home is out of the question.

    In the context of my own life, “putting my own oxygen mask on first” might have looked like asking for some help or hiring some help. It might have looked like reducing how many hours I was working. It might have looked like me putting myself to bed at a decent hour every night instead of burning the midnight oil to do client work, sew Halloween costumes, and clean the house.

    It most certainly would have looked like getting more rest. Since I did none of those things, it is little wonder that my health took a beating until I was forced to slow down and rest.

    These days, I know to listen to my body when it sends out a warning. To take a rest the first time I notice things starting to act up, because if I don’t, a flare is certain to follow. I schedule recovery days for the day after travel, or the day after an infusion treatment.

    Over the years, I’ve arrived at an analogy that I prefer to the oxygen mask one. It has to do with firefighters. If you like, they can be hot, hunky firefighters, although that part doesn’t really matter.

    As I think about things, I picture two firefighters who go about things in very different manners.

    The first of these two firefighters sees that your house is on fire, so he runs toward the house in his T-shirt and shorts. He grabs a garden hose that he sees lying nearby and has to run close to the house in order to get the water in that garden hose to reach the flames.

    He is now very close to the house. If the flames explode or the wall falls down, he will be injured or killed, and others will have to rush in to rescue him.

    He runs a serious risk of smoke inhalation. His garden hose might be helping, but only a little. Due to the heat, smoke, and flames, he has to back away after only a few minutes. The house continues to burn.

    The second firefighter grabs her helmet and respirator. She puts on her flame-retardant suit and her boots and gloves. As a result, it takes her longer to get to the house, but she is now fully prepared to take the high-pressure hose and use it, and can hang in there and work until the flames are out.

    If your house is on fire, which firefighter would you rather be? The one who rushes in without thinking or taking care of themselves, or the one who takes the time to ensure that she is protected and prepared?

    Our natural instinct is to rush in and help, to do all we can right away.

    But sometimes, it is better for us to take just a bit of time away from that burning house so that we can take care of ourselves and our bodies—our own equipment—so that we can hang in there and be of assistance much longer.

    It is not selfish if you take time to preserve or improve your physical and mental health. Under either the oxygen mask or the firefighter analogy, it’s using the proper equipment for you to be able to continue to do all the things that need to be done to take care of the others who depend on you.

    Of course you want to do the best you can under whatever circumstances you face. Taking care of yourself, taking breaks, asking for help: all of those things will allow you to hang in there a bit longer and do the job a bit better. You deserve nothing less.

  • Movement, Stillness, and Insight: My 3 Daily Non-Negotiables for a Busy World

    Movement, Stillness, and Insight: My 3 Daily Non-Negotiables for a Busy World

    “Put yourself at the top of your to-do list every single day and the rest will fall into place.” ~Unknown

    We live in a busy world. There is always something, or someone, fighting for our attention. It’s easy to feel overwhelmed. It’s easy to lose the time we need for ourselves. The white space in our days is often the first thing to get squeezed out as demands on our time escalate.

    To combat this pull to overwhelm, I decided to create a list of daily non-negotiables.

    Having a list of non-negotiables means I get to control at least a portion of my day. I can ensure some of what is important to me keeps its space when everything else is at risk of being crowded out.

    The Daily Three

    My daily three, as I have coined it, includes time for the following.

    1. Movement
    2. Stillness
    3. Insight

    Let’s break each down.

    Movement

    This is time for either a formal movement practice (most often bodyweight strength work, some weights, or yoga), an informal mobility flow and stretching what is tight, or just a long walk. Some days will include a combination of all.

    I believe deeply in the power of a physical practice. Regular movement is good for the mind and body. It energizes and nourishes us. It can also boost our mood, reduce chronic pain, and help us sleep better at night. All good reasons to make movement a priority in our days.

    And this time doesn’t have to be something we dread, like an early morning trip to the gym (personally, I love these). We can also introduce an element of play. Discovering movement on a deeper level. Rediscovering that childlike quality of just enjoying being in our bodies and seeing what they can do, whether that means dancing, tumbling, hula hooping, playing frisbee, or running down a hill, arms flailing, like we did as kids.

    There are many ways we can settle on what works best for us but also experiment, peppering our day with mini-movement breaks.

    Stillness

    Time to reflect, to ponder. Time to absorb. Time to reset and replenish. Time to be.

    Some will use this time for a seated meditation. I prefer long walks (which, along with writing and yoga, are as close as I get to a formal meditation practice).

    This is also my time for listening to music. Music settles my mind on the busiest of days, bringing me back to myself. For others, it may have the reverse effect, but this works for me.

    Less frequently, this space will also mean time for a more indulgent self-care routine (massage, sauna, steam, etc.). Time to switch off and be pampered. We all deserve some pampering occasionally.

    Time in stillness can often mean thinking of how I can be of service to others and the world around me in some small but meaningful way. This could be a random act of kindness or something more substantial. While self-care and time inside our own heads is important, so is time spent thinking on how we can make the world a little better for those around us.

    This is also the time for a gratitude practice. Thinking of one to three things I’m grateful for today. Big or small, they all count.

    Making space for a gratitude practice is one of the most powerful changes anyone can make to their lives. It shifts the lens through which we see the world. When we feel gratitude, true appreciation, and joy for something, it’s hard to stay in a negative space. When I think about being grateful for something (or someone), my mind clears; it focuses purely and simply on the act of being grateful.

    Too often in life, our mind wants to zig and zag. Striving for the next thing and the next. Planning and plotting ahead. Dwelling on the negative, what we are missing, what we did wrong, how far we are from our goals, how we dealt with a situation in a less than optimal way. This negative bias and future-creep do not serve us well. We suffer.

    Instead, we need to be a little kinder to ourselves and detach from our expectations of what could or should be. Making time in our day for stillness acts as an anchor to bring us back to ourselves. It’s grounding.

    Insight

    Time to learn something new or dig deeper into an area of interest.

    This will usually involve reading (or re-reading) a book, listening to a podcast, or listening to someone smart.

    Sometimes it might be a passage from a favorite book I come back to or a quote that speaks to me. I collect quotes for my writing, but there are several favorites I return to over and over. They always provide me with inspiration and are a source of energy.

    This can also be a time to go deeper on a subject in a more expansive way. A course, workshop, or some time with a coach of some sort. Doubling down on a subject we are passionate about.  Investing in our knowledge.

    Why Have a List of Non-Negotiables?

    Your non-negotiables may be different than mine, depending on your needs and values. Regardless, this practice ensures we prioritize the things that serve us (or we need) amongst other priorities. Writing them down and having them in our mind’s eye keeps them present.

    This can be time for self-development and self-care. Time to grow, time to reset, time to reflect. Time to slow down.

    This is positive fuel that we can run on. A foundation to launch from.

    Why Daily?

    A daily frequency is particularly important when establishing a new habit. Once ingrained, you may wish to revert to a less frequent practice.

    A better question might be, if it’s important, why not daily?

    Why Three?

    Because it’s not too many or too few. Three is doable. You might prefer more or less if you give a similar practice a proper go. Experiment and keep what works for you. As my examples have shown, I have been liberal in what my three encompass, I encourage you to do similar.

    The Time Conundrum: Doing What You Can, When You Can

    When life gets busy, it can be tough to find any free time in your days, especially if you have young children (or babies) to see to, or elderly dependents that count on you.

    The good news is you can work your non-negotiables into the time you have available. A short five minutes here or there, between other responsibilities, adds up.

    If you have trouble making time for half an hour of seated meditation every morning, perhaps you could reduce the pressure and instead allow five to ten minutes before you go to bed (or even in bed) each night instead. Or use a meditation app on your phone for your day while walking from work to home. As I write this, in our home, we are currently experimenting with some Yoga Nidra time just before bed.

    You can even look for opportunities to combine some of these non-negotiables with your other daily activities—for example, dancing with your kids so you get the benefits of movement while bonding with your little ones.

    The important thing is that we make at least some time for things that are important to us and for us, a promise to ourselves and form of self-care. Some days we might have more time, some days less.

    There is no right way to do this. We all work from where we are and with what we have. These non-negotiable elements should add to the quality of our lives, not create an additional stressor.

    So long as we make a little time for the things that nourish and energize us, we will reap the benefits.

    Experiment, make your own list of daily non-negotiables, and feel the power of this simple habit.

  • How a Simple Morning Routine Helped Me Heal from PTSD and Grief

    How a Simple Morning Routine Helped Me Heal from PTSD and Grief

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

    In an eighteen-month window, I had a landslide of firsts that I would not wish on my worst enemy.

    I ended my first long-term relationship with someone I deeply cared for but did not love. She had borderline personality disorder, and I was not mentally strong enough nor mature enough to be what she needed in a partner. Within five minutes of me saying our relationship was over, she slit her wrist as we sat there in bed. This was the beginning of it all.

    Drug overdoses, online personal attacks, physically beating me, calling and texting sixty-plus times a day, coming to my work, breaking into my home to steal and trash the place, and general emotional abuse followed over the next ten months.

    Day after day, week after week, month after month.

    My heart started racing, and my breathing spiked every time my phone went off, and I mean EVERY time. I woke each morning to multiple alerts that someone had tried to hack my social media and bank accounts and people I barely knew messaging me saying, “Hey, don’t know if you saw this, but your ex is…”

    In the midst of this, my parents called a family meeting, and that’s when they told us that dad’s doctor thought he might be showing the first signs of Parkinson’s disease.

    I didn’t know at the time what this news would mean long-term for him and us as a family, but I soon found out.

    Dad slowly started deteriorating mentally and physically. Within a year, he had aged twenty years and wasn’t able to be left alone. The man I had once known to be the picture of health and courage was gone.

    I, too, was changing for the worse.

    Happiness was a feeling I couldn’t relate to anymore. I was constantly in a state of duress, from twitching fingers to a tightness in my chest. The most notable change in my life was the constant breaking down as I would shower in the morning.

    After I woke, I would kneel, resting my head on my shoulders and cry, in fear for what the day ahead had in store and disbelief that my life had come to this.

    Even as I huddled there under the warm stream of water, I would feel my eyes shifting back and forth, a mile a minute, it seemed. The effects of my anxiety, depression, and PTSD were touching all areas of my body.

    I did not know what to do.

    I couldn’t believe my life had turned out like this.

    How could this be happening to me?

    But the scariest thought that came to mind, as I knelt in the shower each morning, was how do I stop this? No one had taught this in school.

    I remember staring at my ceiling one afternoon (as I often did, not having any desire to do anything that I once loved or cared about) and saying to myself, “If I don’t take action, I’ll be like this till I’m fifty.” And this was the truth; I knew it wasn’t going to go away without consistent work to better myself.

    Over the following weeks to months, I started working on my morning routine, something that had never been part of my life before this. Most mornings had me showering and getting dressed as I scrolled through the gram, looking at negative posts, adding more unhealthy thoughts to my already full mind.

    It was a slow process.

    Most days I only lasted five minutes before I gave up and went back to bed, but slowly, over time, with two steps forward then five steps back, I created a routine that felt comfortable and achievable each day.

    The routine went like this:

    • Wake up at the same time each day, no matter weekday or weekend.
    • Hop into the shower right away and finish off the last thirty seconds with a full blast of cold water.
    • Make my bed after I get changed.
    • Make a glass of hot lemon water.
    • Sit and drink the lemon water in silence as I look out the window.
    • Finish the time on the chair by saying five things that I am grateful for, no matter how small—”I am grateful for this tree outside my window.”
    • Put on a pot of coffee.
    • Write in my journal as the coffee brews, exploring how I am feeling at the moment or how I felt yesterday and why.

    Not until I had my coffee in my hand, around forty-five minutes after waking up, would I get my phone and flick it open to see what I had missed overnight.

    I had created a morning routine that put me ahead of everything else going on in life. There were no sudden jolts of unease or stress from outside sources like a text message, email, or social media post. 

    I was in control of my life for at least forty-five minutes every morning.

    I would use that confidence to extend those positive vibes further and further into my days. At first, they didn’t last very long, but over time I was able to look at the clock and see mid-day was here, and I hadn’t given up on being productive.

    My morning routine saved me. It gave me the confidence to add other tools to my mental health toolbox. I started eating healthier foods, working out more often, reading in bed instead of watching TV, and going to therapy. All of these things aided me in battling my mental health struggles.

    I’ve learned that sometimes, when our challenges feel daunting and unbeatable, we need to think big and act small, taking it one day at a time, or one morning at a time, or one breath at a time.

    Sometimes one small positive choice can have a massive ripple effect and change everything—especially when it enables us to tune out the noise of the world and reconnect with ourselves. Life will always be chaotic; if we want calm in our lives we have to consciously choose to create it.

    I write this to you three years after creating this morning routine, still doing it every damn day.

    It has evolved and adapted as I have grown as a human from these life experiences that shook me to the core.

    But I still make sure of one thing. I keep my phone out of my hands until my morning routine is done.

    This is my time.

  • How to Trust Yourself After the Trauma of Being Dismissed and Invalidated

    How to Trust Yourself After the Trauma of Being Dismissed and Invalidated

    “Have the courage to follow your heart and intuition. They somehow already know what you truly want to become.” ~Steve Jobs

    I was a sensitive child growing up, and I felt everything deeply. Unfortunately, my childhood home was dominated by chronic tension, fear, and anger—not an ideal environment for anyone, let alone a perceptive and empathic child.

    My father was rather authoritative and controlling, and he disciplined us harshly. I was raised to obey without questioning and punished for mistakes or not falling in line.

    Love was only assumed but never shared, and so I grew up feeling alone, unsupported, and like I was never enough. Craving my parents’ love and attention, I became the good girl, the overachiever, the people pleaser, the caretaker—the chameleon who knew how to morph herself to fit the environment in order to feel accepted. Over the years, I lost a sense of who I was, never really feeling like I belonged.

    Instead, I felt like I had no voice. My feelings were chronically dismissed or invalidated—there was no room for what I wanted, felt, or needed.

    I grew up thinking others knew what was good for me better than I did myself. I grew up seeking their approval, attention, and affection. I grew up disconnected from my own feelings and instead hyper-attuned to what others needed from me. Disconnected from my emotions and judgments, I second-guessed myself, never quite trusting my instincts about what was healthy and what was not.

    Loyal to a fault, I tolerated toxic relationships, unable to leave people who gave me just enough attention to keep me around but not enough for me to feel fulfilled. I ended up chasing people who were unavailable, invalidating, and unsupportive; love entangled with pain was all I knew.

    I became a caretaker who forgot she has needs too. I compromised my values, kept giving chances to people who’d take me for granted, eventually erecting walls to protect myself from the world that just didn’t get me, didn’t value me—a world that didn’t care.

    Isolated, lost, and depressed, I finally realized that the hurt inside me was hurting the people I love the most—my own children. I didn’t want to pass my trauma and my parents’ trauma down to the next generation, so I made a promise to myself to heal as best I could.

    This was the first step on my journey back to myself. It took me years, but I eventually came home.

    Trauma Leaves an Imprint on the Body, Mind, Heart, and Soul

    Adverse experiences in childhood leave a mark on a developing brain, personality, and a sense of self, especially if we did not receive adequate support and nurturing through the crisis. Worse yet if the trauma was chronic.

    The reality is that trauma during childhood affects us to the core and rattles our sense of self. Not receiving the love, care, support and validation we need at our most vulnerable time leaves us feeling less than, undeserving, abandoned, and broken.

    We often grow up internalizing fear, anger, guilt, shame, helplessness and a feeling of being unsafe in the world. Overwhelmed, we push the pain away and put on masks in order to survive. This isolates us and disconnects us from ourselves and the world around us, keeping us small, scared, and unfulfilled.

    Growing up in an unstable or abusive home means we often become hypersensitive to stress, emotionally reactive, and unable to assert ourselves or go after what we want in life. We’re ridden with self-doubt, anxiety, and chronic overwhelm.

    We lose our sense of agency and safety. We stop trusting our own judgment and trusting in the flow of life.

    We become overly controlling, perfecting, pleasing, and performing. Desperately trying to mask our shame and the feeling like we don’t belong, we become a warped version of ourselves, stuck in a cycle of fight-and-flight, push and pull, constantly negotiating between states of avoiding and reacting.

    This affects us on physical, mental, emotional, and energetic levels. We get cut off from our intuition, our authenticity, and our higher self. We lose sight of who we are and what makes us happy.

    Childhood Trauma Destroys Trust

    When those who are supposed to love and protect us harm or neglect us instead, trust is broken. When our caregivers don’t reflect our worth back to us, we never learn to internalize it. We grow up believing that we don’t deserve love, care, and attention.

    If our feelings and emotions are not validated growing up, we begin to believe that they are invalid, that we shouldn’t feel them, that they are wrong. We begin to doubt ourselves and how we feel. Our sense of trust in our own experience is shaken.

    Instead of listening to our inner voice, we let the outside world dictate how to live, feel, and behave. We lose a sense of who we are, what we want, and how we feel. This disconnect from our innermost self means that we end up living a life that isn’t really ours—it’s perhaps a successful life by modern standards, but not an authentic and fulfilling life.

    This was my experience—until I learned to tune into my intuition.

    Your Intuition is Your Superpower

    Our intuition is the bridge connecting our body, mind, and soul. This is not the loud voice of our ego, but the quiet yet steady one underneath our judgments, assumptions, and interpretations.

    Just as our body communicates through our senses, our spirit speaks to us through insights, hunches, dreams, and gut feelings—our intuition. Listening to that inner wisdom and allowing it to guide us toward what is best for us in the moment—and then following that intuitive knowing—opens the doorways for higher knowledge to enter our consciousness.

    Aligning with the higher self this way doesn’t remove challenges and difficulties from our lives, but it fortifies our strength and courage and helps us find a path toward fulfillment.

    Rebuilding Self-Trust

    Trust is the foundation of any relationship, and that includes the one we have with ourselves. Without being able to trust ourselves, we’re unable to make decisions, we lack confidence, and we feel like we have no control over our own lives. Instead, we are plagued with confusion, fear, and self-doubt.

    Fortunately, self-trust can be nurtured and strengthened. Here’s what helped me learn to trust my emotions, intuition, and judgment after the trauma of being dismissed and invalidated as a kid.

    Spend time alone and reconnect with yourself.

    Carve out some time in the day to just be and enjoy yourself—without any distractions. This may mean sitting in silence in your garden, meditating, or just listening to nature. Maybe you best connect with yourself on long walks. Or maybe you best hear yourself by writing your thoughts out—journaling about what matters to you, the lessons you learned from the past, or dreams you have for the future.

    Whatever you choose, daily alone time will help you reset and renew, reconnect with who you are, and realign you with your true nature. The goal is to silence your mind and create space so that insight can come into your awareness.

    Practice mindfulness.

    Slow down and check in with yourself throughout the day. Sense into your body. How does it feel right now? What sensations are you noticing? What emotions are coming up? What wants to be heard? Fully tune into your inner experience in the moment. Consciously observe what is happening internally and take in any messages that you are receiving.

    For example, you may find that you need to put up a boundary with a friend or a loved one. Perhaps you need to say no to an expectation in order to protect your mental health. Maybe you need to speak your truth or let something go if it no longer serves you. Follow these internal cues—they are your guides to what you want and don’t want in your life.

    By tuning in and listening to your inner voice, you stay true to yourself. Instead of reacting habitually out of fear—saying yes out of a sense of obligation, staying quiet in order to keep the peace, or choosing others over yourself—you learn to respond from your inner wisdom and become more aligned with your wants and needs. You learn to have your own back.

    Process stuck energies.

    Take the time to feel any pain and trauma you’re still holding onto instead of repressing your feelings and distracting yourself with work, mindless scrolling, or substances. Gently and lovingly, acknowledge what happened and allow the hurt to come up, whether through physical sensations, feelings, or thoughts.

    Sit with the discomfort watching it ebb and flow through your body. Observe it, embrace it, and surround it with kindness. Extend compassion to yourself for going through that experience alone. Give yourself the love and nurturing you needed but never received. Finally, consciously release it as if it’s just a cloud in the sky passing through, imagining feeling lighter and lighter.

    Allowing the stuck energies to move through your physical body dissolves their power so that you’re no longer controlled by your past conditioning, painful experiences, and knee-jerk reactions. The trick is learning to surrender and allow the process to complete, one breath at a time.

    The more painful the experience, the more time it takes to heal it. Be patient with yourself. You may have to sit with your pain again and again, but each time you will get closer to releasing its grip and finding peace.

    Put yourself first.

    This isn’t selfish—it’s taking ownership. And it’s empowering. Nurture your body, mind, and heart, prioritizing your own needs before you give to anyone else.

    Create boundaries to protect your energy. Love yourself enough to keep commitments to yourself, your healing journey, and your growth—by showing up to do the work no matter how hard it gets.

    Have your own back and stand up for yourself. Encourage yourself through hard times and celebrate your successes. Practice kindness, not perfection. Become your best friend and your loudest supporter. Be authentically you!

    When I started putting myself first, my whole energy shifted. Instead of looking to others for validation and approval, I reached within. Instead of waiting for them to fulfill me, I started giving myself the love, care, and attention I craved. By focusing on meeting my own needs first, I was able to give to others from a place of love instead of obligation.

    I used to feel anxious, burnt out, resentful, and taken for granted. Now I was showing others how I wanted to be treated.

    By prioritizing myself, I was sending a message that my needs are just as important, and I deserve love and care too. The more I showed up for myself, the more I trusted that I was worth showing up for. As I drew boundaries, released the need to hold onto toxic or one-sided relationships, and started building the life I wanted to have, I found inner peace. I found my worth. I came home to myself.

    —

    Reclaiming your sense of self and the ability to trust your feelings and intuition is not only paramount to healing but also creating a fulfilling life.

    By reconnecting with myself, practicing mindfulness, processing stuck energies, and putting myself first, I’ve learned to access and trust my intuition about what I need and what’s best for me. I reclaimed my worth and rebuilt a strong sense of self. As a result, I no longer attract or accept toxic relationships or situations. I trust that I deserve better—and I know you do too.

  • How I Stopped Resisting Change and Embraced the Road Ahead of Me

    How I Stopped Resisting Change and Embraced the Road Ahead of Me

    “Just when the caterpillar thought her life was over, she became a butterfly.” ~Unknown

    Change is constant, from small changes like trying a new hobby to big changes like making a drastic career move. Even though change is all around us, it can feel scary. While change could lead you to something great, there are a lot of unknowns with something new, and that can cause anxiety.

    When I was younger, I used to embrace change. For example, each school year was a new and exciting experience.

    But somewhere along the way, I started to resist change.

    What Does Resisting Change Look Like?

    For some, resisting change might involve remaining in a situation that feels boring or mundane just because taking a different path can feel daunting or like a lot of work. For others, it might involve staying in a situation that’s unhealthy for them because making a change feels scary.

    I resisted change by focusing on the negative aspects of any new experience I was going through as a means to protect myself.

    If I failed at trying something new, then I would have something to blame it on. I could give the impression to others that the change didn’t work out because of some outside factor beyond my control.

    For example, when I began a master’s degree program, I moved to a brand-new city fifteen hours away from my hometown. I didn’t know a single person—in fact, the closest friend to me was six hours away.

    When I chose to attend this program, I was excited. It felt like a fresh start and an adventure because I’d get to live in a cool place, make new friends, and move into a different career path.

    I spent months preparing for the change, finding a place to live, and doing some pre-work for the program. About a week before I moved, the nerves kicked in. I suddenly felt like it was a crazy idea to move to a place where I didn’t know anyone and had no idea what I was doing.

    But there was no turning back; everything was already arranged. And deep down, I knew this was the right decision for me even though it felt uncomfortable.

    During the first couple of weeks in the new city, my mind took note of every undesirable thing it could find. Not only did I notice these things for myself, but I also complained to my friends and family. In a way, I was subconsciously building a case against this new situation so that if I failed, it wouldn’t look like it was all my fault.

    I complained about everything: “The people aren’t friendly.” “The street across from my apartment looks so sketchy.” “My program is really tough—we have so many requirements it doesn’t feel possible to get everything done.”

    Less than a month in, I was already considering transferring to a different program at my undergraduate college. I could move back to a city I knew, where I had several friends still living nearby. It felt like a safe and comfortable option.

    But then something happened: I started making friends with some people in my program. As I got to know this group of girls, I realized they had a lot of the same fears that I did! Not only were we able to bond over that, but we were also able to help and support each other.

    Suddenly, I didn’t feel so alone.

    After all that time trying to convince others and myself that this situation was horrible, I was finally able to admit to these new friends that I had worries about our new situation. Through their advice, I found healthier ways to deal with the new aspects of my life.

    For example, I began meditating every morning, which helped me manage my stress. I also found that, although I was far away from friends and family, when I stayed connected via phone calls and video chats, I felt less alone.

    Over time, my fears around this change fell away. And you know what? The two years I lived there turned out to be some of the best years of my life so far.

    I made lifelong friends. I gained so much knowledge—both practical and academic—as I developed as a professional and moved into a great job after graduation. I also met my fiancé during that time, someone who I can’t imagine my life without now.

    Had I left just a few weeks in, like I was tempted to, I would have missed out on all of that.

    While this is not the only example of when I resisted change, it’s a good one because it shows exactly how I would sabotage myself amidst the discomfort of something new.

    One of the biggest takeaways that I learned over time is that change is something most people find uncomfortable, so you are never alone. Rather than focusing on the negative aspects of a new change and telling others about all the reasons why it’s not good for you, share your fears with the people you are close to, with the intention of overcoming them.

    Why is sharing your fears about change with others so important?

    Your support system is called that for a reason—they are there to support you! Just like you don’t judge friends and family when they come to you for help, they won’t judge you either. We are often so much harder on ourselves than we are on anyone else.

    By sharing your fears with others, you’ll likely find that they can offer you advice or even just a shoulder to cry on so that your feelings don’t seem so overwhelming. When you keep those worries inside, they can start to build up in your mind and feel even more daunting. In a way, voicing your fears out loud takes their power away.

    What else can you do to manage change when it feels hard?

    Focus on what you can control.

    When faced with change, it can feel like everything is out of your control. However, one of the best ways to face change is to focus on what you can control in this situation. Ask yourself, “What can I take responsibility for right now?”

    For example, I accepted that I couldn’t control how overwhelming my schoolwork felt. However, I could control how organized I was, so I bought a planner and wrote out all my deadlines and when I needed to have tasks completed by, which made things feel more manageable.

    By taking control of your own fate where you can, change will feel less intimidating because it won’t be just something happening to you; it will be something you’re intentionally choosing.

    Take time for yourself—because you deserve it!

    Self-care is important during any time of your life, but especially when you’re faced with anxiety about difficult situations. We tend to be hard on ourselves when we’re struggling with something new. Self-care is a way of telling ourselves we deserve to be comforted through it.

    Self-care can also help you calm your mind and keep things in perspective when everything feels scary and overwhelming. Whether you just changed jobs, graduated, or ended a relationship, taking time for yourself is critical to maintaining a healthy mindset.

    Choose activities that help you relax. For me, that includes meditating and journaling. For you, that might mean practicing yoga, relaxing in the sun, or walking in nature. Other self-care ideas include developing a skin care routine, reading a book, or eating a healthy meal.

    Play around with different practices to find the ones that work best for you. You might also want to consider speaking with a mental health professional if you feel like you could use some extra support during this time of transition.

    Give yourself some credit.

    When faced with something new, you might find yourself thinking about all the many ways it can go wrong. To ease your fears, think about a time when you navigated change successfully.

    Walk yourself through how that situation went and the positive result. Use what you learned in that situation to walk through this new change.

    And as you start to make progress, don’t forget to reward yourself. Give yourself some kudos for all the effort you have put into your development and personal growth.

    Remember that the transitional phase is only temporary.

    If, like me, you’ve struggled when making a big life change, be kind to yourself through this transition.

    The discomfort we feel when faced with change is only temporary. While daunting at first, each new change will soon become your new normal and feel much more comfortable.

    —

    Admitting that I had nerves about the situation to others around me was the first step to feeling at peace within my new adventure.

    It’s how you take away the power behind those fears and start to embrace the change in front of you as an opportunity to become even better because of it.