Tiny Buddha

Tag: support

  • What It Really Means to Have a Supportive Partner

    What It Really Means to Have a Supportive Partner

    “The best possible thing you can get out of a relationship is that you’re with someone who encourages you to be the best version of yourself every day.” ~Nishan Panwar

    Let me ask you a question. When was the last time you felt supported? When was the last time you felt safe, at home, encouraged, and able to be 100% yourself?

    If your partner creates a safe space for you to do this, then you are truly blessed. If not, have you ever wondered why you don’t feel safe, supported, and loved?

    Two years ago my best friend told me he’d loved me for many years. It was an unforgettable day once I got over my initial shock, because for many years I’d felt the same way about him.

    It took me a while to get my head around how the most beautiful man I knew, not to mention one of my best friends, wanted me over anyone else.

    In the beginning of our relationship I idolized him. I had an image of him in my head as my friend, and it was one of unrealistic perfection, non-stop humor and happiness, and a loving boyfriend who would walk on hot coals for me, just as I’d watched him do for other girls.

    I wanted to support him any way I could and would do anything for him, but when we got together—a difficult and confusing time for me, for many reasons—I was the one who needed supporting.

    When I didn’t get what I thought I deserved, things began to look very different than I had originally imagined. Maybe he wasn’t the guy I thought he was going to be as a partner. Maybe I’d set his pedestal just a little too high.

    Had going from friends to lovers been a terrible idea? But what was actually happening at the time was that I was leaning on him way too much for support, and I hadn’t even stopped to consider that the person I needed to sort out and support, first and foremost, was me.

    You see, when we’re lost and confused, we often look to external influences to make us happy. We’re all guilty of it.

    My experiments in how to find happiness have varied over the years—shoe shopping, drinking, drugs, yoga, meditation, and other people.

    But we can’t solely rely on anything or anyone to make us happy. We have to create the happiness part for ourselves.

    One major thing I realized at the beginning of our relationship was that I was asking for the world from a guy who I was placing way too many expectations and assumptions on.

    I assumed just because he was finally in flow with his career that it meant that our coming together was doomed and that I’d be cast aside in favor of a new job.

    I also assumed that because he wasn’t running around after me and spending every penny he had on me, as he’d done with previous overly demanding girlfriends, that I meant less to him than anyone else that had come before.

    However, had he acted the way I had expected him to when I was at my lowest ebb, I would have quickly labelled him clingy, over-bearing, and annoying, and that would have been the end of that.

    The truth was, he was being everything I needed him to be for where I was at that time.

    I didn’t need someone who would wallow in self-pity and negativity with me, as previous partners of mine had done. I needed someone who would inspire me to be the best person I could be and show me that if I picked myself up, everything would work out just fine.

    I remember him saying to me one night when I was in tears, “I know that you’re going through a lot right now, but get really excited about the future and what’s coming next rather than being fearful of it, because everything is going to be okay.”

    Each time I remember those words, they mean more to me.

    Let me tell you something that I have learned about what it means to have a supportive partner.

    A supportive other half isn’t someone who will hang on your every word, do whatever you want, and follow you to the ends of the earth. That clinginess isn’t the “true love” that you’re searching for.

    When someone truly loves and supports you, they challenge you, stand beside you when you need them, and give you the space you need to roam free and grow as a person.

    They will never judge you or put constraints on your mind, your physical body, or any of your dreams. They will be a cheerleader for your cause without being a groupie. They’ll go to the other side of the world for you when you need them, but they won’t smother you.

    They might not be around all the time, but for the things that really matter, or for when you are sick or in the dark, they’ll be there at your side, without you even needing to ask.

    They might seem like the busiest person in the world or the least affectionate at times, but when it matters, they’ll drop everything for you.

    Most of all, they will see you. This person will see what other people can’t. They’ll see you in all your beauty and grace, as well as your darkness and faults.

    They will see you for the person you are now and the amazing one they know you are truly capable of becoming, even if you can’t quite see this yourself yet.

    And they’ll love you. Unconditionally. And that’s really all that matters in this life.

    Stop expecting things from your partner that they don’t intuitively know how to give you. You will learn and grow together, so long as you continue to communicate assertively and don’t put unreasonable demands on each other.

    But it’s also up to you to become responsible for your own feelings and your own happiness. Put this first and you’ll become more lovable to your other half without even trying.

    Keep supporting each other. Stop worrying that your other half is going to leave you or wrong you or let you down. Have some faith and, in return, they will have faith in you.

    Stay truthful to yourself and they will reflect this beautiful truth straight back to you. And keep showing all of your colors to them—your light and your darkness. Because if they truly love you and value you, as long as you do all of this, they’re not going anywhere.

  • The Only Way to Form Meaningful Relationships with People Who Get You

    The Only Way to Form Meaningful Relationships with People Who Get You

    “A friend is someone who gives you total freedom to be yourself.” ~Jim Morrison

    When I left my full-time position at an ad agency and ventured out on my own, I had a clear goal in mind—to connect with like-minded people who align with my highest good. As far as how I was going to do that, I had little clue.

    My life was full of relationships built from forced, sometimes toxic circumstances where we found each other out of need or convenience. I am grateful for each of those people because they were there when I needed them most, but there was always a part of me that felt unknown or misunderstood. They did not speak my language.

    After a couple of decades of those experiences, it became natural to think that no one understood who I was, and no one ever would.

    Being an idealist, I’ve always believed in true heart-to-heart connections with other human beings as the most fundamental component of strong relationships, above cultural backgrounds, titles, properties, or romance.

    Most of the people around me, however, seem to pursue relationships to either avoid being alone or to create financial security, without the desire to form a deeper connection with others. Perhaps they don’t believe in the type of connection I know exists and think of it as a fantasy. In the past, I was often criticized as being naive and impractical.

    My idealistic nature often shows up in work environments, too, unguarded and without an agenda, while I watch others focus only on their own goals.

    I’ve always cared about coworkers as well as clients, and I’ve been enthusiastic about creating great designs to help them succeed. Those efforts were often seen as an agenda to get promoted, even perceived as a threat at times by supervisors fearing I was after their job. So, I finally gave into conformity and kept these idealisms to myself and pretended I had the same drives as everyone else.

    I wanted to be perceived as professional, to have friends, and to live every day drama-free, so I showed the world just enough of me in order to fit in comfortably.

    It is no wonder, in hindsight, I never met anyone who truly got me, because no one really knew about the existence of that part of me. And if I ever mustered enough courage to share those deep thoughts and visions, the slightest pause in our conversation or a split-second blank stare would scare me back into my shell all over again.

    Interestingly enough, after my “release” into the ocean (as I like to call it) from the corporate pond, and since taking full advantage of my freedom to work with whomever I choose, I find myself attracting more and more like-minded people. Whenever I marvel at the miraculous synchronicities, I begin to realize more and more why that is…

    I unknowingly started to come out of my shell and show the world all that I am.

    I was no longer met with judging eyes, passive-aggressive statements, and indirect criticisms that conditioned me to refrain from expressing myself in ways that I wanted to. Without having to deal with constant judgment and negativity, I naturally opened up and let my walls down.

    I spent the three-month grace period I granted myself following the leave nurturing feelings of self-appreciation and comfort and self-reflecting. What kind of relationships did I want moving forward? And what type of professional relationships would I want to build for my long-term success? The answer from deep within brought tears to my eyes—whatever business endeavors awaited, I always wanted to be as happy as I was right then.

    This morning, on an introductory Zoom call with a client who came to us for marketing and PR services, I had déjà vu listening to her echoing my own recent experiences.

    She is a veteran in her industry, well-educated across all subjects, has a rich cultural background, and is already a highly successful entrepreneur; yet she expressed discomfort in telling her personal story because she felt she would be seen as weird and unrelatable, at the same time wondering how her unique perspective and her desire to better the world could come across to the right clients.

    I immediately felt my pulse a little stronger, blood flowing, and wasted no time in sharing what I had just gone through.

    I gave her the following advice in hopes she would be encouraged to share all that she is with the world and build the clientele she truly desires. I got my confirmation immediately when her eyes lit up and her wonderfully mischievous childhood stories began to flow out naturally and comfortably… (Joy!)

    Your “weirdness” is your uniqueness.

    Since I’ve allowed myself to be more authentic, I’ve crossed paths with many people who share the same fear of being seen as “weird.”

    Many of us carry this heavy weight, the shame we felt perhaps from a young age of being judged, reprimanded, or made fun of, just for being ourselves. We then spent decades trying to fit in, prove we were “normal,” and worthy of love and respect. We diminished all the amazing qualities that make up exactly who we are as unique individuals.

    If you ever feel the need to hide your history, struggles, or emotions to appear “normal” to the rest of the world, consider this: You are actually depriving the world of getting to know you.

    What if the world needs your unique personality? What if the world is waiting to hear your personal story? Every single one of your qualities, even those some may consider “weird,” is a contribution to who you have become and what you have to offer the world.

    If you have read this far, you most likely have a desire to be known, to be acknowledged, and you are likely already sharing pieces of yourself with others, at least on a surface level. I encourage you to gently peel off another layer and share a deeper part of yourself. Because not doing so will keep you wondering and feeling caged.

    Like-minded people are trying to find you, too.

    Finding people who click with you can seem like a challenge, even if you lead a dynamic and interesting life and/or have a rich inner world.

    As I get older, I value deep connections more and more because I enjoy getting into a state of flow over effortless, meaningful conversations. I spent many frustrating years trying to figure out how exactly to meet the right kind of people, but it had never occurred to me they were looking for me, too. And I hadn’t made it easy for them to connect with me.

    When I met new people, I stuck with superficial conversations because, again, I didn’t want to be perceived as “weird” and be rejected. When I formed a friendship, I tried to maintain it the same way I had earned it, by not being who I truly am. Needless to say, those relationships were unfulfilling and short-lived.

    Sharing who you are authentically in each present moment not only helps connect you to those similar to you but also filters the relationships that are incompatible from the get-go. By bringing your inner world to light, you acknowledge your own uniqueness and allow others to fully see you, thereby making a connection with you.

    The more you let other people in, the deeper the connections you will form.

    The levels of connection you can create with another person can be exhilarating but also a little intimidating. Relationships can form from a fun-loving, surface-level interaction into something that touches the most intimate parts of your souls. But you have to be willing to risk discomfort and rejection in order to find the right people.

    If you are tired of superficial relationships that bear little fulfillment and want deeper connections you can build on, then your only option is to be brave, open up about your inner world, and let other people in.

    How deep the connections are will depend on how vulnerable you allow yourself to become and whether or not others reciprocate. Not everyone will, and that’s okay. It’s worth opening up to people who’ll reject you to find the one who won’t.

    Conversely, you need to be prepared to reciprocate just the same when someone else trusts you enough to show you their inner world. While this may take some courage to build up to, it’s also well worth the risk.

  • How I Stopped Dismissing Praise and Started Believing Compliments

    How I Stopped Dismissing Praise and Started Believing Compliments

    “I’ve met people who are embattled and dismissive, but when you get to know them, you find that they’re vulnerable—that hauteur or standoffishness is because they’re pedaling furiously underneath.” ~Matthew Macfadyen

    It was impossible to miss the dismissive hand gesture and distasteful look on her face in response to my comment.

    “You ooze empathy,” I had said in all sincerity to my therapist.

    “And what’s it like if I blow off or disregard that compliment?” she countered. Then, as usual, she waited.

    “Ah, it feels terrible,” I sputtered as the lights of insight began to flicker. I was acutely aware of an unpleasant feeling spreading throughout my chest and stomach. I sensed I had just deeply hurt someone’s feelings.

    That experience hung in the air for several moments, providing plenty of time to push the boundaries of awareness.

    Was I really so unaware and quick to disregard compliments? Was that the terrible feeling others experienced when I didn’t acknowledge or subconsciously snubbed what they offered in the way of a compliment or kind word? Was that what it felt like to be on the receiving end of dismissiveness?

    Leaving that session, I began the usual reflection of mulling over all that had transpired and the feedback I’d received. Growing up with minimal encouragement, I was beginning to see it was taking an enormous amount of time for me to recognize that compliments from others were genuine. I tended to be skeptical and often did not actually hear them.

    I hadn’t realized compliments could be accepted at face value and didn’t always come laden with hidden agendas and ulterior motives. I hadn’t thought that compliments were given as a result of merely wanting to offer appreciation. Something great was noticed—something great was acknowledged. Period.

    So where did such a suspicious nature come from?

    As a kid, I didn’t readily trust the motive behind a well-spoken piece of praise, as it often was a double-edged sword for me. I’d receive a compliment from my mom, but it quickly turned into a way for her to talk about how wonderful she was and how the great parts of her trumped mine by leaps and bounds.

    I recall an experience when I was feeling great about interacting with student leaders. I started to share my feeling of pride with my mom and got out a few sentences before she interrupted.  The topic changed to the ways she worked with her students and influenced them. The message I had internalized: sharing doesn’t mean you will receive validation or compliments for what you share.

    After excelling academically, my dad dismissed my master’s degree as “Mickey Mouse garbage.” He rarely acknowledged positive experiences with more than a, “Hmmmmm” or “Oh.” The message I had internalized: sharing doesn’t mean there’s and understanding or appreciation for what you share.

    Without a lot of experiences that offered encouragement, acceptance, or recognition, I lacked a backdrop on which to deal with compliments. My strengths and talents were unacknowledged, and I hadn’t learn to appreciate them. I tended to mistrust sincerity and downplayed positive input.

    With the assistance of an attuned therapist, I started on a journey of learning to trust what was offered to me rather than dismissing it. With a delicate offering of insight, I was able to repair my automatic deflect button and understand others were genuinely recognizing and affirming my strengths when they offered compliments.

    Here are several ways that helped me repair dismissiveness after I became much more aware of my tendency to deflect positivity.

    1. Pay attention to the positive.

    I started to observe anything good around me, challenging myself to see and focus on what was positive instead of indulging our natural negativity bias (the tendency to focus more on the negative, even when the good outweighs the bad).

    I looked for examples of encouraging feedback and genuine compliments that came my way or that were given to others. I kept a gratitude journal, reminding myself of what I appreciated each day. I was training and rewiring my brain to truly see and focus on positivity.

    2. Recognize when my old conditioning is resurfacing and how this may affect someone offering a compliment.

    I consciously challenged myself to believe other people had only good intentions instead of projecting feelings from my childhood experiences with my parents. I challenged any inner suspicious dialogue that came along. And I remembered how good it would make others feel if I allowed myself to feel good when they praised me instead of dismissing what they’d said.

    3. Receive and acknowledge compliments.

    I practiced listening more carefully when I received compliments and risked absorbing and feeling delighted by them, allowing warmth, pride, and happiness to settle internally. I watched for them and I became less inclined to snub what I heard.  I practiced offering an appreciative and gracious “Thank you” instead of allowing my mind to doubt, dispute, deflect, or dismiss the positive feedback.

    A wonderful by-product of working against dismissiveness is that I am more naturally positive and appreciative of others. I spontaneously offer more heartfelt and earnest appreciation, thanks, and compliments to others. I actively look for ways to do that in my everyday interactions and work to express empathy.

    Just recently, having watched a mom interact positively with her young boys in the local park, I risked offering a compliment. “Excuse me. I just wanted to let you know I noticed how wonderfully you interacted with your sons and how happy they seem.”

    The woman was delighted to receive the feedback said how pleasant it was that someone noticed. She then turned to her boys and shared with them what had happened. All four of us felt encouraged!

    I am grateful that I am now much more able to hear, believe, and absorb positive feedback. I make a deliberate effort to relish positivity, and I feel a lot more appreciative of myself and life as a result.

  • The Signs of a Strong Friendship (and an Unhealthy One)

    The Signs of a Strong Friendship (and an Unhealthy One)

    “Lots of people want to ride with you in the limo, but what you want is someone who will take the bus with you when the limo breaks down.” ~Oprah Winfrey

    “How on earth am I supposed to survive? I have no friends whatsoever!”

    These were the thoughts that ran through my mind then when I first set foot in London five years ago. I felt raw and vulnerable in the beautiful new city that I had to make my new home, alone, with my two kids, while my husband was overseas. I wondered how I was supposed to do it all.

    Well, I had J, a friend I’d met on my honeymoon in Bali, but we had only kept in touch occasionally, so I didn’t expect much from her. I couldn’t really call her my friend, maybe a pleasant acquaintance, but surprisingly she turned out to be my much-needed rock-solid support system and guardian angel.

    Every Saturday after work, she came over to my place, and we hung out. Sometimes we would walk to the park. Other times she would encourage me to drive (something I resisted). She visited my daughter when she fell and was in a cast and made my four-year-old daughter’s birthday memorable. She even helped me put up my garden table and chair. To say that I was grateful for her kindness would be an understatement.

    I was grateful—one, because the help and friendship she offered was unexpected. Secondly, because she did it with a great and open heart. And lastly, because she accepted me for who I was and what I could offer at that point.

    For the first time in my life, I was a ‘receiver’ in a friendship. Until then, I was always the giver.

    But with J, things were different. Her generosity touched me so much, so I thanked her often and told her how much I truly appreciated the trouble she took. But she always shrugged it off. One day as I was thanking her for the millionth time, she said, “Lana, the friendship goes both ways. I too appreciate hanging out with you and your little kids. They add a lot of joy to my life also!”

    She then proceeded to tell me that she lost two of her friends to cancer in the last few years, and the sudden losses left her feeling devastated. She said spending time with us helped her through that. I was shocked to hear it but was also pleased to know that my kids and I could fill that void for her in our imperfect selves.

    Her honesty and generosity taught me some essential lessons on friendship and helped me differentiate between a healthy and unhealthy one. So, let’s unpack them.

    The Tell-Tale Signs of Healthy Friendship

    1. There is an equal amount of give and take in the relationship. Both people’s needs are considered essential, and the friendship doesn’t feel lopsided.

    2. You’re both honest and transparent with each other. When J honestly opened up to me, it cemented our friendship because it made me feel equally important. Till then, I thought I was the vulnerable person in need of her, and I was surprised to know that she needed me as well.

    3. You’re both kind and compassionate, and you completely accept each other. Whenever J arrived, she was always considerate of how overwhelmed I was. She was happy to have an overwhelmed, scared, and disoriented friend and accepted me for who I was.

    4. Good friends don’t try to control, dictate, or tell you how to live your life. Though I was new to many things, she didn’t try to control me. She offered suggestions and sometimes pushed me out of my comfort zone but never crossed any boundaries. She gave me the space I needed.

    5. Good friends are generous—with their time, resources, or whatever they have to give. J was generous with her time and company and took me to various places. I was happy to have another adult with me as I visited new locations with my girls.

    6. Good friends appreciate each other and don’t try to take advantage of each other’s vulnerabilities.

    7. Good friends don’t try to manipulate the other for personal gain. They may help each other, but they don’t use each other. They spend time together because they care for each other and enjoy each other’s company, not because they want something from each other.

    Whenever there is an equal amount of give-and-take in a relationship, honesty, respect, and empathy for one another, you can be sure it is a keeper.

    Through J, I learned that friendship is a two-way street. Before that, I had no standards and welcomed anyone and everyone in my life as friends. Even the ones who walked all over me and took advantage. J upped the bar for me.

    So, what are the signs of an unhealthy friendship?

    1. It feels one-sided. The other person dominates the friendship and prioritizes their needs and wants over yours.

    2. They’re insensitive to your needs—they don’t consider them essential, or they trivialize them as unnecessary, either by joking or making your needs sound insignificant.

    3. They subtly undermine you, implying that you aren’t good enough, can’t do what you want to do, or shouldn’t bother pursuing your wants, needs, and interests.

    4. They see you as a means to an end, meaning you are useful for some specific purpose. Maybe you can help them move forward with their career, or you’re a bridge to connecting with someone else.

    5. They do not respect you—they ignore your boundaries, talk to you in a condescending tone, and/or treat you like you’re not a priority.

    6. They don’t respect or appreciate your time or effort.

    7. They’re demanding and think everything rotates around them.

    8. They have numerous issues that they can never sort out on their own. They never ask about you; you’re only there to listen to their problems and service their needs.

    9. They’re always competing with you, and everything is a game where they want to be the winner.

    10. They don’t want to know about you—your past, your feelings, or your interests.

    11. They repeatedly bail on you unexpectedly, as if they don’t value your time together.

    Walter Winchell says that “A real friend is one who walks in when the rest of the world walks out.” Here’s hoping you find that real friend who understands you, lifts you, and brings out the best in you!

  • I Got Fired for Struggling with Depression, and It’s Not Okay

    I Got Fired for Struggling with Depression, and It’s Not Okay

    “About all you can do in life is be who you are. Some people will love you for you. Most will love you for what you can do for them, and some won’t like you at all.” ~Rita Mae Brown

    The stigma associated with mental illness has improved in recent years, but there is still work to be done.

    I am a certified life coach and a certified personal trainer. As an employee of a major global fitness studio chain, I was once discriminated against for my mental health issues.

    I have always been an athlete, and I love sports. Before deciding to go to college for engineering, I thought I’d take the medical school route with the goal of becoming an orthopedic surgeon—I was always fascinated with the body’s structure and how all of the muscles, ligaments, and tendons worked together. But I chose the engineering path and kept my athletic pursuits and fascination with body mechanics and such as hobbies.

    When I was going through my divorce, I decided to get my personal trainer certificate. I had been a stay-at-home mom and part-time photographer since my first child was born, and divorcing meant I would need to go back to work. However, I was not interested in a corporate cubicle job.

    I studied hard, took the exam, and quickly landed my first training job as a coach for a global fitness studio chain. The classes at this particular chain were basically high-intensity interval based, combining treadmill running, rowing, and strength training. The classes of up to thirty-something athletes were coached by one trainer who timed the intervals and explained the workouts.

    It was a very high-energy workout and atmosphere with loud, pumping music and drill-sergeant-like yellings of encouragement.

    The training for this position was an intense week-long ordeal. I worked my butt off during that week with no guarantee of a job (which they neglected to tell us until the week of training was almost over).

    When I was ready to teach my first class, I was excited and nervous, but I ended up loving coaching the classes. There were many unfit individuals who barely knew how to do a squat, and I loved not only teaching them but encouraging them and helping them believe that they could master these exercises and become good at them.

    I helped many people see themselves as athletes when they went from barely being able to walk for three minutes straight to actually running for three minutes straight.

    We had member challenges, including a weight loss challenge. I loved it, and given my background battling an eating disorder, this was my chance to come at weight loss from a place of healthy living—not losing weight to measure up to some ridiculous standard.

    After each class, members of my team would stay after to ask questions about nutrition, exercise, and recovery. I loved sharing my knowledge with them as well as cheering them on. I knew they could reach their goals, and they did. My team won the challenge.

    During this period of time working for this company, I was struggling with my own personal hell. I would show up to class to coach and put on my high-energy, happy face, blast the music, and yell those firm, but loving words of encouragement for my athletes to give it everything they had during each interval. But inside, I felt like I was dying.

    I lived with a sinking, sick pit in my stomach. I’d often leave the studio and cry in my car before going back to the lonely home that once housed a family.

    During my tenure at the studio, I was hospitalized for severe depression twice. Both times required me to take a short leave of absence—a few days the first time, and nearly a week the second time.

    I also took a last-minute trip on Christmas Day back home to see my family so I would have some family support for that first Christmas without my kids (they were with their dad that year). I got someone else to cover the class I was scheduled to teach.

    When I returned from my trip, I came back to work and taught my scheduled classes. As I was leaving, the head trainer and one of the main investors of all Maryland franchises made me stay so they could fire me.

    They told me that my performance wasn’t up to par and that they had to let me go.  

    Funny, I had never had anyone give me any indication that I needed to improve anything to keep my job. Not even in my evaluation with the head trainer—she gave me some constructive feedback but also indicated that I was doing a good job. There had been zero warning signs.

    After my departure, a large number of my students reached out to me asking where I was and why I wasn’t teaching anymore. When I told them the reason, they were appalled and angry. One or two even canceled their membership.

    They loved my classes and would come because they liked my style of teaching. I asked to see member surveys for my classes, but management refused to show them to me stating that “surveys don’t tell the whole story.”

    Other trainers, including another head trainer who had been with the Maryland franchises since the first location opened, thought the whole thing was absurd and offered that I could come back and teach at his location. As much as I loved coaching, I was still too upset at the way the company had handled my dismissal to take him up on his offer.

    I tell this story because what happened to me was cruel and heartless and should never happen to anyone who is genuinely giving their best effort in a job. It should never happen to anyone without proper warning.

    I was struggling on a level I doubt either the twenty-something head trainer or bougie investor ever had to endure, and they let me go for some made-up reason that, below the surface, really came back to my mental health struggle.

    Authenticity is a topic that is near and dear to my heart, and I feel that authenticity in the workplace is sorely lacking.

    All too often, we feel like we can’t show up as our authentic selves for fear of looking weak or incompetent. We need to be competitive and not show any sign that we aren’t anything but perfect for fear someone else might get ahead because of an incorrect perception (one that is wrongly distorted by mental health struggles) that others have of our ability to get the job done.

    I did my job as a coach and trainer, and I did it well. Ask any of my students. But on some level, management sensed my weakness and decided I didn’t fit the “brand image” of this very popular and trendy international fitness studio chain because I was struggling with mental illness.

    If you asked them, I am quite certain that they would argue their reasoning had to do with other factors, but the facts just don’t add up.

    I had never been let go from a job in my life. This added to my depression and anxiety. I understand that if I had not been able to perform my duties, that would have been grounds for dismissal. But I gave it my all and never received any negative feedback indicative of my job being in jeopardy.

    My struggle with depression at that time was no different than someone struggling with a physical illness.

    If I was undergoing treatment for cancer, I am quite certain this scenario would have gone quite differently. I am certain there would have at least been a conversation about the situation, rather than just flat-out making up an excuse that my performance wasn’t up to par and firing a single mom without another job to go to.

    We have to remove the stigma mental illness has in the workplace. We have to make it okay for people to show up and say, “Hey, I’m struggling right now. I am doing my best, but I’m having a hard time.” That shouldn’t be a weakness. If anything, it’s a strength to admit when you’re struggling and need some help.

    Are strides being made? Yes. But the disparity between the perception of physical illness and mental illness is still too great. This needs to change.

    How could my former employer have handled this differently?

    First of all, if they didn’t think my performance was good enough, they should have given me a chance to improve. They should have told me that I needed to change something, because I’m the type of person that, when given feedback, will do everything possible to nail it. At that point in my life, I was still firmly rooted in perfectionist mode, and the very thought of someone thinking I’m not perfect would have been enough to send me into a frenzied mission to correct that perception.

    If they were not thrilled with the time I had to take off for my hospitalizations and my last-minute trip where I had someone else cover one class, the head trainer should have communicated to me that it was unacceptable and given me a warning. That would have given me a chance to have an honest conversation about the struggles I was having.

    In even a minimally caring environment, it makes more sense to help employees succeed rather than throw them away the moment you don’t like them. It’s much more expensive to go through training a new employee than to try to improve one you already have.

    In the fitness industry in particular, I feel that there is little room for perceived imperfection, and there is even less room for a flawed trainer or coach. The fitness industry perpetuates the lie that trainers and coaches have their sh*t together—that’s why they’re the ones training you. That’s why you can’t get these results yourself—because you’re not perfect and you don’t know how to be perfect.

    Authenticity in any workplace is so important. When we are afraid to show up as ourselves with not only our flaws but also our gifts and talents, that’s where creativity ends. When we aren’t able to exercise our creativity, innovation is thwarted. And when innovation stops, that’s where everyone gets stuck.

    Looking back, I now know that I never want to be employed by such shallow and uncompassionate people, but I also know that just wasn’t the place for me. There is no place I want to be where I can’t show up as my true self and say, “Hey, I can bring a lot to the table, but I’m also flawed and I’m okay with that.”

    The reaction should be “Yeah, me too. Welcome to the club,”

    Because we are all imperfect. And that’s a fact.

  • 39 Supportive Things to Say to a Male Survivor of Sexual Assault

    39 Supportive Things to Say to a Male Survivor of Sexual Assault

    “One in six men will be sexually assaulted at some point in their life. It doesn’t make us weak or less masculine—nor should it. Rather, we, as men, should encourage other men to speak up, to be courageous, share this burden with others, and to attend therapy and take medication. There is such a thing as healthy masculinity, and we can find that in our fellow men, in comforting those who are having a rough time. Seeking help in a healthy way, wanting to be better, practicing empathy and compassion and caring for each other are ways of practicing healthy masculinity.” ~Anonymous

    Why is it that men are less likely to be supported than female survivors of sexual assault? No matter a person’s gender or sexual orientation, all survivors deserve love and support.

    In 2013, I became an activist for survivors of sexual assault. I was living in New York City, and my method for getting the message out was through chalk art. To reclaim my voice after the NYPD threw out my sexual assault case, I went all over Brooklyn and Manhattan scribbling chalk art messages about consent.

    Since then, I have done thousands of chalk art drawings all over the world, from Europe to South Africa. Using art as a tool of activism has been an extremely powerful way of reaching millions with an important message: It’s time to replace the current rape culture that we live in with a culture of consent.

    It’s a common notion that it’s impossible for a male to be raped. Male survivors who speak up are often met with the response, “How can a boy get raped?” The answer is, if he does not give his consent, it’s rape.

    It doesn’t matter if the rapist was male, female, or any other gender identity. If he denies consent, it’s rape. Any person of any gender can be raped.

    Imagine how hard it is for a woman to speak up and report a rape. That difficulty is doubled for men because the patriarchal concept that “men cannot be raped” ruins any hope for male survivors to get the support they deserve. This concept totally dismisses the real-life experiences of millions of men who actually have been sexually assaulted.

    For fear of not being believed, it’s fair to assume that millions of men hide in silence. Very few heal or recover due to the stigma of male rape.

    Men’s stories matter. Men’s healing is just as important as healing for others. When men heal, the whole world heals, because the world is still run by men.

    Suicide rates are often higher in males because so many of them fail to express their emotions due to the patriarchal concept that crying is a sign of weakness, particularly in men.

    When a man is seen crying, he is often told to “man up.” Due to fear of being called weak, men hold in all their tears instead of releasing them.

    Shaming men and boys out of crying is mental torture for those who truly wish to express themselves. Men who have been raped should be uplifted in their healing, however they see fit. If their healing includes shedding a tear for all the pain they endured, it is their right to do so.

    Here are thirty-nine uplifting messages for male rape survivors.

    1. Your pain is valid.

    2. The person who did this to you is the only person to blame, not yourself.

    3. You are not less of a man for being sexually assaulted.

    4. Being a survivor does not define who you are as a man.

    5. A survivor is anything but weak.

    6. Don’t be afraid to talk about it.

    7. Never blame yourself.

    8. Things will get better.

    9. You are so incredibly strong.

    10. I’m proud of you!

    11. You are not alone.

    12. What you are going through is temporary.

    13. You are loved.

    14. You’ll see the light one day and be happy again, I promise!

    15. You have many people who believe and support you.

    16. You are worthy of love and respect.

    17. You don’t need to feel ashamed.

    18. Talking about it to someone you trust will help.

    19. You are heard.

    20. You are valid.

    21. You don’t have to be strong all the time.

    22. It’s okay to cry.

    23. You’re safe to express your emotions.

    24. Some days may be better than others, but you will get there.

    25. You will grow and survive this current pain.

    26. We support you.

    27. Even if you had an erection, you still weren’t “asking for it.”

    28. Even if you had an orgasm, if you didn’t want it, it was rape.

    29. We applaud you and your courage.

    30. Feel the pain instead of numbing it.

    31. You gotta feel it to heal it.

    32. You’re still manly and I adore you.

    33. Tears are a sign of strength.

    34. The sickness of another is not your burden to bear.

    35. Being a victim is difficult, but in time you will heal.

    36. There are people out there that love you and are willing to listen to you (including me).

    37. Keep staying alive. There is so much to live for.

    38. You are brave for admitting what happened.

    39. We are in this together.

    The idea that men cannot get raped is perpetuated by the false belief that all men want is sex, every hour of the day. While I was doing #StopRapeEducate chalk art in New York City in Union Square one day, a young, Afro-Latino couple stopped to read the message I was writing: “Rape knows no gender.”

    The girl looked puzzled and asked me what it meant. I told her that it means anyone can get raped, whether they are a male or a female.

    She burst into laughter and said, “A guy…. hahaha…get raped?! Ha! How is that even possible? Shit, I’m sure they would love that. That’s every guy’s dream.”

    I gave her the straight-face-emoji-look and said, “Actually, that’s not true. Men who get raped are traumatized just as much as female victims. I’ve met tons of guys who have been raped. It’s a serious problem.” She straightened up quickly.

    Men have freewill to decide if they want to have sex or not. If you are someone who dates men, it’s important to accept that the men in your life may not always be in the mood to do it, and that’s okay.

    Before I understood this, in my younger years, I recall pressuring myself to be readily available for sex with guys. I would even go as far as to pounce on them, thinking that that’s what they wanted. I had seen it a million times in movies as a way of women initiating sex: no questions asked, just pounce.

    One of my friends that I used to hook up with told me once that he was tired of my sexual advances. I felt so ashamed and disgusted with myself because I was caught up in stereotypes about male sexuality that I gave myself to someone that didn’t have interest in me.

    This is why sexual education is so important. It’s unacceptable for us to learn about sex from movies, television, and porn.

    The reality is, men and boys are not sex machines. Nobody is. It’s always okay to say no to sex, and it’s never acceptable to assume that someone wants to do it.

    To create a safer, more loving world for all of us, let us respect and support male survivors of sexual assault rather than reinforcing toxic masculinity rooted in rape culture.

  • What We Need to Do Before Asking “Are You OK?”

    What We Need to Do Before Asking “Are You OK?”

    “Connection gives purpose and meaning to our lives.” ~Brené Brown

    R U OK Day is a crucial campaign to address mental health problems in our community. Even prior to the pandemic, isolation, loneliness, and disconnection from each other meant that the simple act of asking “Are you OK?” needed to be prompted.

    We may go days, weeks without seeing each other in person, instead relying on sporadic whatsapp messages, emojis, or comments on each other’s social media posts. We may spend all our time at our work places, but not make time to see our friends and family.

    So, what are we missing? Well it’s that face-to-face, daily interaction where we read each other’s emotional cues, have spontaneous and natural flowing conversations, plenty of eye contact and laughing, chatter, and crying together. Simply put—the human experience of sharing our unique energy with one another.

    So, is asking “R U OK” enough? No, definitely not. It is one piece of the empathy and connection puzzle.

    In most cases, you have to be emotionally ready for the answer that may await you on the other end of that question. Do you have the time, energy, or motivation to listen to the answer? What if someone says they are not OK, but you have already judged that their life is totally fine—why would they not be OK? What if they tell you that they are struggling, but you feel that you are struggling more? What if they say they are OK, even though they really are not?

    In the above cases, your ideas of what a person may answer and your judgment of their situation will greatly influence the way you respond. But also, if you don’t have a prior, strong connection to that person, their ability to open up to you is also greatly diminished.

    So, when I think about what this boils down to, I feel it’s about building long-lasting, trusting. and deep connections with the people around us. Without that, we cannot possibly expect real emotions to be shared, and for responses from that person to be loving and supportive.

    I think about my own experiences of trying to share difficult emotions with various people in my life.

    There was a time when I was a new parent to my second child who was very unsettled, was only managing very broken and limited sleep, looking after two children under five years old, co-running a business, and working part-time during the week.

    I remember many instances of sharing my feelings of being so alone, exhausted, isolated. and needing support, only to be invalidated and dismissed by well-meaning individuals, or the person didn’t know how to respond, so therefore detached and moved on from the conversation.

    I also recall the confidante being in so much pain themselves, it became a competition about whose pain was worse.

    I remember being honest about not coping during stressful periods in my life, resulting in the perception that I was weak and incompetent, and me thus being treated that way.

    These reactions can be very hurtful and harmful and can detract us from seeking the help we need. In many cases, that person may not even realize that is the effect of their actions. In fact, their reaction is commonly a mirror to how they may judge themselves.

    So the “R U OK” campaign is a great idea, but it’s not the whole solution.

    Before we ask that question, we need to foster a relationship in which we make space for the other person.

    This starts with being incredibly accepting of ourselves first, including awareness of our emotions and struggles. We then need to be attentive, loving, supportive, and non-judgmental to those we choose to have in our lives. And there has to be deep trust that the person who you are sharing with will only come from a place of acceptance and love.

    Only then can “R U OK” be most effective in reaching its purpose. The purpose being: when you are not OK, when you are in pain and are having trouble dealing with it, that person will help you accept these emotions, guide and support you, and make you feel genuinely and authentically loved, in a moment when you may need it the most. For them to remind you that your emotions will pass, but their friendship will not.

    Let’s create and foster these connections with one another daily, consciously building our tribes, and reach out often to each other. Let’s intentionally create space and time for these relationships in our busy lives.

    We can also get creative about how we meet as couples, friends, families or communities, whether it be regular catch-ups working toward a common goal, meeting up to exercise, play sports and dance, cook together, or group meets at parks to walk and talk (with masks and social distancing as long as necessary, of course).

    Let’s also be open to opening up our lives to new people who also need this support. Because not everyone has been lucky to find these connections, or has been able to build their tribes yet.

    And finally, if we are always present and conscious with ourselves and our loved ones, asking, “Are you OK?” will come naturally—and so will our response when they inevitably one day say “no.”

  • How to Best Comfort Someone Who’s Grieving

    How to Best Comfort Someone Who’s Grieving

    “Life isn’t about waiting for the storm to pass. It’s about learning to dance in the rain.” ~Vivian Greene

    Compassion is one of humanity’s greatest gifts. During times of suffering, such as following the death of a loved one, sufferers rely on the empathy of others to survive their ordeal. Yet, too often when someone is grieving, we do little more than offer an “I am sorry for your loss” because we are fearful of accidentally increasing their pain.

    Speaking as someone who lost her husband unexpectedly after just over three years of marriage—and who has counseled many people who have lost loved ones—I understand both personally and professionally how it feels to grieve deeply.

    All grievers appreciate the compassion offered them, but there are some expressions of sympathy that are more helpful than others. Here are five don’ts (and dos) for people wanting to comfort grievers.

    DO talk about the person lost, don’t assume bringing up their name or stories about them will make the sadness worse.

    What hurts me most is when people do not talk about my husband Jim. There were a lot of people who thought bringing him up in conversation would hurt me or intensify my sadness. The opposite was the case.

    I would tell them that I love talking about Jim and I always will because that is how I keep him alive and with me. I enjoy hearing a funny story about him or a memory of him that someone is eager to relive.

    Many people wanted to be there for me—even to reminisce about Jim—but since they did not know what was appropriate, they did nothing. As I suffered through the pain and shock of losing him, the last thing on my mind was who I had not spoken to recently or who might be available for a fifteen-minute talk.

    Grievers are not in a psychological state of mind to reach out to anyone, so please reach out to them. We need all the support we can get.

    DO ask questions, just don’t ask open-ended questions.

    One of the most common things you hear while grieving is “Do you need anything?” Or “How can I help?” These are the most stressful questions you can ask a sufferer. They’re heartfelt and have the best of intentions behind them, but for someone who is already overwhelmed with grief, shock, anxiety, etc., making decisions is very difficult.

    For example, food is one of the most stressful things when you are grieving. Sounds ridiculous, but it is true. Every client I work with who has lost a loved one says that food elicits the same stress with them.

    One of my clients is blessed with a family member who makes peanut butter protein balls so that my client will satisfy her nutritional needs without having to cook herself.

    My life was made so much easier by friends and family who brought me food already prepared. All I needed to do it was put it in the refrigerator until I wanted it. It was one less thing to worry about.

    So if you are going to ask a griever if they need anything, make it a simple choice: “Do you want soup or salad?” Or give them a multiple-choice question—A, B, or C.  They will still need to make a choice, but it will not be based on open-ended options.

    DO offer to get together, but don’t assume the person suffering will want to do the same things they have done in the past.

    Meet the sufferer where they are and not where they once were.

    Jim and I loved road trips to football games and live band performances. Today I can only enjoy those things with people whom I feel very safe.

    Many people just assumed that because I enjoyed it previously that I would naturally fall back into it again. It doesn’t work that way. Joy is a difficult emotion after grieving because you almost feel guilty to be happy. Maybe some people cope with their grieving that way, but the vast majority I have encountered do not.

    I would much rather spend the day outdoors in nature quietly, or have friends phone me and say, “How about we come over and watch a movie? You don’t have to entertain us or get dressed. Stay in your pajamas.” 

    DO leave the small things out of conversations, don’t bother the griever with trivialities.

    Grieving or not, if a friend or family member is facing a major problem in life, you want to help them, regardless of whether you are suffering. Life is about helping one another whenever it is needed. That is, when it is a legitimate problem.

    For example, I no longer have any patience for pettiness. I do not care about the traffic or the weather, or about the rude checkout lady at the supermarket.  Jim died two and a half years ago, and it is still a struggle climbing out of bed and getting through the day. With that kind of daily battle, I have no tolerance for those mundane conversations anymore. And I guarantee you I am not alone.

    Do yourself and the griever a favor—if your problem is nothing more than an irritant, speak to someone else about it.

    DO be open and patient with outbursts and breakdowns and don’t judge.

    Just because a griever looks better after a few weeks or months does not mean he or she is no longer suffering. It simply means they are getting better at improving their appearance. The suffering on the inside continues, and the daily struggles remain even though they are unseen by the public.

    Little stresses can derail us. For example, due to a rain delay, the Michigan-Michigan State game was running late, and living in Colorado, the local channel switched to the Colorado game. You would have thought I lost my dog. I called my brother (hysterically) and he took care of the issue in five minutes.

    You feel as if you have overcome so many challenges already that the frustration at not understanding what is going on around you sends you spiraling. It’s why you can only approach life one day at a time.  So resist the urge to judge another’s progress or choices. Sufferers really are doing the best we can.

    —

    In closing, it is so important that you remain who you are. Don’t try to change how you act or interact in fear of how you will make the person grieving feel. Just be who you are for them and remember that normalcy is not a goal let alone a destination. Their lives will never be the same again, but your consistent presence and authentic support will make the grieving process just a little less overwhelming for them.

  • What It Means to Love: 9 Steps to a Strong Relationship

    What It Means to Love: 9 Steps to a Strong Relationship

    “Be there. Be open. Be honest. Be kind. Be willing to listen, understand, accept, support, and forgive. This is what it means to love.” ~Lori Deschene

    They say your heart pounds when you’re in love.

    But the very idea of opening up and letting love in can bring on the wrong kind of palpitations.

    Saying yes to love… that’s like standing naked, bare naked, every inch of you on show.

    Completely vulnerable.

    Or so I thought.

    My Impregnable Force Field

     “Of all forms of caution, caution in love is perhaps the most fatal to true happiness.” ~Bertrand Russell

    You see, I was called a few different things growing up. People said I was reserved, quiet, or shy.

    But in truth I was just scared to let anyone in. I felt I needed an impregnable forcefield. To stay safe. To be in control.

    And I needed space. Lots of it.

    Getting close to people, close enough to fall in love, well, that felt way too intense and personal for me back then.

    We didn’t do love in my family growing up. It was busy, busy, busy in our house. Everything was about practicality, working super hard, and getting things done. And done well.

    Adults rarely showed affection with each other—something about it being inappropriate in public, my brain remembers. We were taught not to talk about personal things. Life felt secretive and awkward.

    As an adult, I ached to be loved. It hurt to be so alone.

    It took me a long time to realize that I didn’t really know how to love. And yet, it’s supposed to be an innate trait. Even newborn babies demonstrate the instinct to love, and the need to receive love back.

    But in all my years growing up, love and affection felt awkward, foreign. Love seemed equally dangerous and mysterious at the same time.

    I learned to keep everything inside, and everyone outside.

    In truth, life went wrong precisely because I acted that way. I ended up alone—no lifelong friends, no love in my life. I was lost. Every day felt like an uphill struggle.

    And around me love bloomed, but for others, not for me.

    Eventually I understood that unless I made some changes, I would never know the absolute security of another’s love. I would never hear someone telling me everything would be okay. That they’d be there for me, whatever life threw my way. And I’d never be able to be there for someone else.

    I realized that I needed to start doing these nine things or I would never know what love is.

    1. Be there.

    Love doesn’t grow and flourish because you dress up or make yourself up. All it needs is for you to show up, to be fully present.

    I used to believe soul mates were mythical creatures, as rare as unicorns, and that finding your soul mate was an honest to goodness miracle—one that happened to other people.

    Not true.

    Someone is ready to love you. They’re out there. And they’re looking for you right now. But you have to show up fully to connect with them.

    In the past, I spent a lot of time caught up in my head, paralyzed by my fears and insecurities. When I was focusing all my energy on protecting myself, I wasn’t available to the people around me. You can’t love or be loved when you’re physically there but mentally somewhere else.

    I now know that I need to focus more on the person in front of me than my worries, insecurities, and judgments. Love can only unfold when you get out of your head and get into your heart.

    “When you love someone, the best thing you can offer is your presence. How can you love if you are not there?” ~Thich Nhat Hanh

    2. Be open.

    Love is a powerful force, but you can’t share it if your heart is closed.

    I used to fear the slightest puncture in my protective force field. I worried that if I opened up even a little, it would be the end of me. Somehow staying closed felt like protection. If I let someone in, I couldn’t control what would happen. If I kept everyone out, nothing could go wrong.

    But I learned that you don’t need to expose the deepest parts of yourself all at once to be open to love. You just need to let your defenses down long enough to let someone else in.

    I started by sharing a little about myself—my opinions, my feelings, and my worries. A little at first, I tested others’ reactions to what I shared. But my confidence grew much more quickly than I expected. And you know, not holding back so hard or pretending turned out to be the biggest relief ever.

    “The greatest asset you could own, is an open heart.” ~Nikki Rowe

    3. Be honest.

    Being truthful in love goes further than just not telling lies. It takes being the real you, the wonderfully imperfect you.

    Pretending to be someone you’re not or disguising how you feel sends a worrying message to the person who loves you. Human beings have an inbuilt alarm when they sense someone isn’t telling them the whole truth.

    I had an image of the ‘perfect me,’ and it didn’t include being vulnerable. So I lied about the true me in everything I said and did. I pretended that I didn’t worry, didn’t need help, and that I knew exactly where I was heading in life. Those lies alone alienated some amazingly wonderful and loving people who would have been life-long friends… if I’d let them.

    “Honesty is more than not lying. It is truth telling, truth speaking, truth living, and truth loving.” ~James E. Faust

    4. Be kind.

    I wasn’t kind in the beginning. I was too insecure to let the little things go. A forgotten request felt like rejection. A different opinion felt like an argument. I was also too insecure to accept that it didn’t mean I was loved less.

    For example, one night I’d plucked up the courage to sing in front of a crowd, a small one, but to me it felt like standing on the stage of Carnegie Hall. My significant other muddled the dates and double-booked himself.

    I sang that night without his support from the crowd because he felt he couldn’t let down his double booking. At the time that felt like rejection, and I reacted harshly. In truth, the situation simply said “I know you’ll understand that I need to stand by my promise elsewhere; they need me more right now. I’ll be right next to you next time.” (And they were.)

    Being kind in love means accepting that people can’t always meet your expectations and giving the other person leeway in how they act and respond. It means looking after the other person’s heart even when you’re disappointed.

    “Be kind whenever possible. It is always possible.” ~Dalai Lama

    5. Be willing to listen.

    Love needs to be heard to flourish, that’s pretty obvious. But it took me years to figure out that it was as much my responsibility to listen as to talk.

    Because love is a conversation, not a monologue.

    In the beginning my head was too full of all the things I wanted to explain, my heart too full of all the emotions I wanted to express. And my mouth was too full of all the words I needed heard.

    But I found that when I listened, I learned valuable insights into the other person each and every time. I heard their concerns, self-doubts, and their words of love. I was able to help, support, and feel the growing connection we had. They drew huge comfort from having been heard. Listening fully said “I love you” as clearly as the words themselves.

    Like the night we left the movies, having watched School of Rock with Jack Black. It was supposed to be a comedy, a fun date. I laughed lots, but the other person had to sit through 106 minutes of their painful personal disappointment over not pursuing their dream career in music. I listened hard. I heard all their regret, their self-reproach.

    And I learned a whole relationship’s worth of areas where I could be super-sensitive and supportive in the future.

    Because you can’t speak the language of love until you learn to listen first.

    “The first duty of love is to listen. ” ~Paul Tillich

    6. Be willing to understand.

    Being willing to listen is only half of learning the language of love. The other half is understanding what you hear.

    And that means being open to a different perspective, even an opposite view.

    At first that sounded like I needed to give up what I believed, to forever bow down on the way I saw things.

    Not the case. It meant I needed to learn to see that there could also be an alternative, equally valid viewpoint.

    Understanding in love goes beyond being aware and appreciative of the other person’s stance and beliefs. It takes consciously embracing that you’re one of two, and both your perspectives have a place. Love is big enough to handle different opinions and philosophies.

    So the other person grew up in a different culture, for example. That works for them and the millions of people brought up the same. There must be something in it. Love means appreciating that.

    I learned that speaking your mind doesn’t have to be rude or inflammatory, no matter how directly you say it. In some cultures it’s rude not to! And yet I’d been programed to never disagree or say the ‘wrong thing’ and instead to give the accepted, acquiescent response. Love taught me there’s another way—that it’s more important to be honest and truly understand each other than to simple appease each other.

    “One of the most beautiful qualities of true friendship is to understand and to be understood.” ~Lucius Annaeus Seneca

    7. Be willing to accept.

    Love doesn’t have a complicated vocabulary. All it wants to hear is “That’s okay. I love you for who you are.” Accepting the other person for who they are, however, doesn’t guarantee love will flourish in a relationship. For that to have a chance of happening, you have to accept yourself for who you are as well.

    To let love in, you need to believe you’re worthy of love, that you truly are enough for another’s heart to fall for.

    You need to embrace your human-ness, your less than polished edges, and all your quirks—and theirs, too, in equal measure.

    I had to learn that I didn’t need to be perfect. And I never could be. That I needed help sometimes. And doing my best was plenty.

    I had to accept that about the other person too. I had to step back and see that no matter how large the mess or miscommunication, they’d gone into the situation dripping with good intentions and love.

    That didn’t happen overnight. It took some time, some gritting of teeth initially, and a fair bit of biting my tongue. It felt hard to accept it all for a while, until I truly opened my arms to all their idiosyncrasies, blind spots, and contrary points of view. I would have let those beliefs go years before if I’d known how liberated I would feel when I did.

    Accept that in a relationship you’re one of two wonderful, separate, yet intertwined individuals.

    You can be the amazing you that you are, and they can be their wonderful self too.

     “The greatest gift you can give to others is the gift of unconditional love and acceptance.” ~Brian Tracy

    8. Be willing to support.

    It’s hard to put the other person first when your own emotions are raging.

    I spent years too caught up in the rawness of my own emotions to take into account anyone else’s. I was so busy struggling up my own mountain of troubles that I missed the other person struggling right alongside me.

    We could have pulled each other up if I’d only reached across.

    Support starts with looking out for signs the other one is struggling. It means putting your own battles on hold for a while.

    I learned how to look beyond my thoughts and problems and truly be there for the other person, thank goodness. And our love deepened every time I did.

    “Surround yourself with people who provide you with support and love and remember to give back as much as you can in return.” ~Karen Kain

    9. Be willing to forgive.

    Whenever there are two people involved, there are going to be mistakes and misunderstandings. That’s a given.

    But the truth is, they are simply opportunities for love in disguise.

    My anxious thoughts made me stress over small things for far too long. I’d analyze and imagine a whole scenario around what was a simple error or miscommunication. Like that confused discussion over weekend plans, when I worried that he saw what I’d suggested as dull, and his mix-up was a disguised attempt to avoid having to drag himself along.

    A forgotten tiny promise felt like I didn’t matter. Like that planned cosy evening, just us and a relaxing dinner, that got steamrollered by him agreeing to watch the neighbors’ kids so that the parents could have a special evening instead.

    That hurt.

    Until I learned to forgive.

    Forgiving says, “That mistake is tiny, our love is huge.”

    And it says it just the same for what feels like a big mistake too. It says our love can weather this—really, it’s strong enough.

    And more than that, every time you forgive the other person you’ll find the compassion to forgive yourself too.

    “The reality is people mess up. Don’t let one mistake ruin a beautiful thing.” ~Unknown

    This is what it means to love.

    Imagine opening up your heart and allowing love in.

    Imagine feeling more confident in who you are. Confident enough to be open, honest, and kind in a relationship. To be willing to listen, understand, accept, support, and forgive.

    That impregnable force field that has kept you so alone for so long?

    Throw it out.

    And let love in.

  • When People Want to Help but Just Make Things Worse

    When People Want to Help but Just Make Things Worse

    When I was fourteen years old, my family spent a week of vacation in the northwoods of Minnesota. We rode horses, sailed on the lake, sang songs around a campfire, and all the other things most teenagers tell their parents is lame. Even if they are having fun.

    After this week of boring, according to me, my family loaded up into our van and began what should have been a five-hour drive home.

    Except it wasn’t five hours.

    Thirty minutes into the drive we were in a head-on car collision. Triaged and transported to different hospitals around the area, it wasn’t until a few hours later—when my question, “What happened to my dad?” was met with silence from nurses, physicians, and my extended family who found me in the ER—that I knew he didn’t make it out. Not alive, at least.

    Two weeks later, I started high school.

    While I would have liked everything that had suddenly made my life “not normal” to fly under the radar, that was easier said than done. I was walking with crutches. I had crunching, paper bandages around my neck from the seat belt, and the whole story had been on the front page of the newspaper.

    What I was going through was my business, and yet I became surrounded by people offering this and bringing me that and giving me hugs when I just wanted to get back to normal.

    A few weeks later, my uncle showed up at our house and wanted to take us apple picking, something my dad had taken us to do at the local orchard every year.

    This time, when my uncle said apple orchard, he meant the Mecca of all apple orchards near Pepin, Wisconsin.

    As instructed by my mom, I pulled open the door to the garage and loaded into the car, suddenly finding myself sitting behind the driver’s seat. The exact same spot I was sitting during our crash. And not only was I sitting in the driver’s seat for the first time since the crash, I was sitting behind someone who, from behind, looked just like my dad, and who was trying to help by taking me to the apple orchard just like my dad.

    My heart was pounding. I focused on the seat back pocket in front of me, tried my best to breathe and sit facing forward while not looking any longer at the driver and his seat in front of me.

    The longer we drove, the angrier I became.

    My uncle was trying to help, but this, this was not helpful.

    I was tense the entire ride, wrought with worry the car might explode in front of me again, and when we returned home a few hours later, I shot out of the car, slammed the door behind me, muttered, “Thank you,” ran to my room, closed the door, and burst into tears.

    Going to the apple orchard with Dad was our business. Not my uncle’s. Driving that car was Dad’s job, not his.

    While he thought he was doing something so helpful to keep my dad’s memory alive, his one time trip to the Mecca of apple orchards, for me, was the opposite of helpful.

    That’s the thing about any business that’s important to you.

    Whether it’s someone you’ve lost or something you’ve loved and now lost, when things are special to you and other people see those things causing you hardship, they want to help.

    It’s a natural human reaction to want to help. But when you’re the one who’s receiving the help, there are so many times when something that was meant to be helpful turns out the be… the opposite of helpful.

    The truth is just because someone meant well with their actions that does not mean you have to feel good about their actions.

    In fact, most of the time, if someone does something that does make you feel good, it’s because they’ve taken the time to know you really, really well (like asking you if you prefer a compliment during a team meeting or a thank you card in your mailbox), or it’s just luck.

    And all the times when someone means well but it doesn’t feel well are so very normal.

    That’s okay.

    Instead of feeling bitter and angry about what someone did, whatever their intentions, and instead of becoming disillusioned about whether you can do anything to help someone else, it’s important to know the one thing you can know for certain in any interaction: you. Your thoughts, feelings, intentions, and expectations.

    So the next time someone is trying to help with something that is your business. Try this:

    1. Take a time out.

    We tend to use this as a tool for disciplining kids, but honestly, it works just as well, if not better, on ourselves as adults. And it’s not about giving yourself a time out from something you want to be part of. What you do is notice when you are feeling a growing sense of anger, frustration, overwhelm, and use your words to say something like, “I’m going to need some time to think this through. Let’s pick up this conversation at another time.”

    And then take the time away from the situation.

    2. Remind yourself of the intentions in the room.

    Why are you doing what you are doing?

    Why do you think they are doing what they are doing?

    Most of the time, people are doing something because they think it is a good thing or a helpful thing or something that will make the situation better. So, know that the people who are wanting to help are doing so because they care. There is something in it for them to help you and they want to help you.

    Even if the way they are helping now is the opposite of helpful, you can use this reminder about their intention as a key to making the situation helpful for you again.

    3. Speak out. Ask. Use your words.

    You have a person that wants to help you. So use your words. Tell them what would be helpful (or if you don’t know, tell them what is not helpful, and why).

    Say something like, “When you came to take me to the apple orchard, I felt like you were replacing my dad. I already feel worried that I am going to forget him, and I felt even more scared when we did something that made it feel like we were trying to replace him.”

    Notice the “When _______ happened, I felt ________.”

    This is intentional language.

    When you speak this way, you keep the focus on the goal: helping you to feel better, because you have identified a specific situation when that did not happen.

    Then say, “To make this feel better to me, I would need ________.” And say what you would need.

    Is it any apology? Is it that you want them to talk about things more? Do you not want to talk about it more? Do you want to do something you’ve never done before instead?

    It’s your business. So make it your call. And help them help you by showing why unhelpful things are unhelpful and suggesting what would have made the unhelpful things… well, helpful. Because at the root of every relationship is love.

    So, even during times when things aren’t as good, it’s important to separate the actions other people do to help with the intention that’s behind it all: love for you.

  • When You Can’t Take Away Their Pain: Just Being There Is Enough

    When You Can’t Take Away Their Pain: Just Being There Is Enough

    “Just being there for someone can sometimes bring hope when all else feels hopeless.” ~Dave G. Llewellyn

    Parents, if I were to ask you what your worst nightmare is, what would you say?

    I daresay it probably falls somewhere under the category of “safety and health,” and the negative version thereof.

    Death. Illness. Suffering.

    It could largely summed up as “to watch or know my child is suffering,” an extension of that being “… and to not be able to do anything to help or take it away.”

    If you’re not a parent, I’m guessing you’re felt this same way about someone else you’ve loved, so a lot of this probably applies to you as well.

    Let’s focus for a minute on the illness angle, as that is where I have a personal frame of reference.

    Illness is a painful reality for millions of people around the world.

    It doesn’t matter whether that illness is something as seemingly innocuous as the common cold, or something far more sinister on the health scale; for a parent to watch their child get sick and suffer, it’s not a situation that anyone wants.

    They’re forced to put on a brave face and shove down the feelings that threaten to bubble over at any point: fear, sadness, guilt, anger, helplessness, frustration, and exhaustion, just to name a few. 

    Chronic illness has left its mark on my family; spun it’s web, drawn us in.

    I may not have been a child when my whole world changed—I was a young adult of twenty-four years old—but my parents had to stand by and watch it all unfold.

    I’ll be a child in their eyes—their child—always.

    They’ve not only had to witness the initial impact—that devastating moment when they were told to brace themselves, stand strong, for their child was so critically ill that her life was hanging in the balance—but they’ve also had to continue living with those ever-reaching threads for fourteen years.

    They’ve watched me overcome adversity and shine, time and time again.

    But then the coin flipped over and they had to face the underlying realities of my situation despite my vibrant smile: the ongoing chronic pain, neurological deficits, and life challenges.

    When a person is chronically ill, the whole family feels the pain.

    Healthy family members are often overworked, physically and mentally, particularly if they have assumed caregiver responsibilities, all of which is compounded by the helplessness they feel when they’re unable to provide relief to the family member in distress.

    I’ve always been aware of this impact. I’ve always known my parents would willingly take my illness and make it theirs, if that option existed.

    I know my parents often feel powerless; they don’t know what to say, how to act, or what they can do to help me.

    I’ve always understood and had empathy for this. But I’ve never fully comprehended the true extent of their experience and feelings.

    How could I possibly?

    Just like they can’t walk a mile in my shoes, I can’t walk a mile in theirs. Our shoes are unique. They fit only us.

    Life lesson coming up…

    Horus, my fur child, has had some health challenges over the past twelve months, seemingly one thing after another.

    His most recent ailment relates to a leg issue that thankfully is now on the mend, but it’s certainly been cause for worry.

    At one of his recent check-ups, his vet made mention that Horus is most likely experiencing a high degree of pain and discomfort, despite the perpetually happy exterior and perky disposition, and it suddenly struck me:

    My child, so like his Mumma, is in pain.

    Quite possibly a high degree of pain.

    I will never know for sure.

    And I can’t take it away for him.

    A blow to my heart. I’m his Mumma and I can’t take away his hurt and make it all better.

    It’s a blow that my parents, and in this example context, my mother, has no doubt felt, time and time again, with my situation. Only I know hers would be amplified tenfold. A hundredfold. And my father’s as well.

    Because parents love their children so deeply, they would make any sacrifice required to take their hurt away and make it all better.

    What happens when you really can’t take away their pain, despite all the wishing and heartfelt sentiments? 

    When you really can’t remove your child’s obstacles, in whatever form they may take?

    I can’t fathom the agony, anger, guilt, frustration, helplessness, powerless and the myriad of other emotions that my parents must have felt, and continue to feel, when they think about my challenges in life.

    And even though I am in an amazing new season of growth, opportunity, and health, the challenges are still real, albeit tapered down—thank goodness!—and I know they still struggle because I struggle.

    A parent is supposed to take away all of her child’s obstacles.

    Or are they?

    Truthfully, that is an unrealistic burden to place upon yourself.

    To any parents reading this—or to anyone who’s feeling the agony of being unable to heal their loved one’s pain—please do your upmost to release yourself from these mental shackles. 

    The mind is very cruel at times, if you allow it untethered freedom, and it will keep you stuck in a place of sadness that serves neither you nor your child. You can’t be there for them, or anyone else, if you’re lost in your head, beating yourself up for not being able to do more.

    You’re doing the best you can. Why compound your pain with unnecessary guilt?

    To my parents, please know this:

    You have equipped me with everything I need in this life.

    You can’t take away my pain, but you can be happy that you gave me the strength and the will to persevere.

    You can’t take away my obstacles, but you can be there, physically and emotionally, to guide me, to hold out a hand, to lift me up when I fall down, to be my biggest cheerleaders.

    Sometimes, all you can do is be there.

    But just being there might be enough.

  • Why I Can’t Always Be the “Strong One” and What I Do Now Instead

    Why I Can’t Always Be the “Strong One” and What I Do Now Instead

    “She was strong and weak and brave and broken… all at the same time.” ~Unknown

    My mom was diagnosed with schizoaffective disorder when I was seven years old. It’s a chronic condition that doctors say can be managed but not cured. The symptoms included manic high energy, depression, delusions, hearing voices, reduced need for sleep, and loss of touch with reality.

    There were many times of stability for her, when she was on the right medication, taking it routinely, and attending regular psychotherapy. But if any of these elements were missing, those moments were often short-lived.

    She was the type of woman who would speak to anyone in eyesight, make an instant connection, and fill the atmosphere with the kind of joy and laughter that would make anyone think of happy times.

    For me, as I knew her well, any extreme traits that did not resemble these were signs that her body was not responding to the medicine and she was having what doctors call an “episode.” These were the times I knew she had to be hospitalized for stabilization. Some episodes were milder than others, but all resulted in my sister and I having to make the tough decisions, for my mother’s well-being, that deep down inside hurt us to the core.

    We were like the three amigos, my mother, little sister, and me. We had a powerful bond, and my mother, being a single parent, taught us to be strong, independent, confident women. Growing up, I didn’t know that my mom having her episodes would become the norm, and taking her back and forth to the hospital would become routine.

    Years later it would never get easier, and each time felt like the first time. Each time I had to put on my armor jacket of strength, suck up my feelings of sadness, and be strong for my mother when she was not able to do that for herself. I had no idea back then that learning how to be so “strong” would eventually be my downfall.

    I remember my first time taking my mom to the hospital. My heart raced and my chest filled with so much pressure it felt as if I was about to explode. I was filled with such overwhelming sadness, anger, and helplessness that I couldn’t even express if I wanted to. It wasn’t the time.

    As we sat with my mother in the emergency room, waiting for her to get called back, everything moved in slow motion. Her rage of being taken to the hospital without her initial consent filled my ears with such vulgar slurs and hurtful words that I regularly had to remind myself it was her “condition” talking, not her.

    Life can put us in situations where we are forced to be strong even when we feel weak inside. Society will give you the impression that being strong is a good thing. We are programmed to show strength and not express our weakness. It’s almost this hidden outlook as if expressing your weakness will allow someone or a situation to break you, and once we are broken, we can’t put the pieces back together.

    We become so good at portraying strength; we fool others into believing that we have everything under control and do not need help. But, as I found over the years of being the strong one and continually putting on my armor jacket of strength, I was doing more harm to myself than good.

    Here are some lessons I’ve learned since realizing that being the “strong” one is not always the best solution:

    1. Don’t isolate yourself from others.

    There were many times when my mother’s episodes were extreme, and I didn’t want to share my feelings with anyone in my inner circle. I felt like no one would understand what I was going through, and it felt like I was in a battle all by myself. Unlike a physical disease, there are so many negative stigmas that can come with having a mental disorder. The fear of both my mother and I being judged and ridiculed was enough to keep my emotions and thoughts to myself.

    During these times being social was the last thing on my mind. I avoided social outings with friends and family like the plague because I felt like I was going through things they wouldn’t understand.

    The more I isolated myself, the more toxic my mind became. When I was by myself, I would constantly dwell on my negative thoughts. They would race through my mind all day, and it was extremely hard for me to see the positive.

    On the days when I did have a brief interaction with my friends, I was no longer the voice of reason but instead the “Debby Downer” who no one wanted to be around. The calls eventually slowed down, and my circle of friends became smaller and smaller.

    Contrary to what I believed, when I finally decided to open up it made a world of difference for me. When I told a close friend the details of what I was going through, she said she could sense something was wrong with me and extended her listening ear. Even though she wasn’t able to directly relate, she had a close friend whose sister had a similar diagnosis, so she was able to understand my concerns and offer a few stress management tips.

    This one little moment speaking with my friend felt so freeing. I was finally able to open up to someone and not feel as if I was in a battle all by myself. Moments like those helped me realize that isolating myself was not aiding my strength but actually adding unnecessary stress.

    When you isolate yourself, you tend to feel like you’re in battle alone and forget that it’s innate for people who care about you to want to be there for you. Your friends and loved ones will be able to sense when something is wrong and will naturally want to offer support. By opening a dialogue, you might be surprised by how many people can relate in some way.

    Even if someone is not able to directly relate, there are hidden messages of encouragement that you can receive when you least expect it. Allowing yourself to be around others during these times can make a shift in your energy, which can help make your days brighter.

    2. Don’t hold your feelings inside.

    I think one thing many tend to forget is that holding your feelings inside doesn’t make them go away. When you bottle your emotions inside you are allowing the pressure of the build-up to take control of your body. These feelings cause more harm than good. When worrying becomes excessive, it can lead to feelings of high anxiety and cause you to become ill. Stress, according to the American Psychological Association, is the leading cause of some of the most severe chronic diseases.

    In the early years of my mother’s diagnosis, I would allow stress to consume my life. When high levels of stress would occur, I frequently became sick. I would frequent the doctor for stomach pains and was soon told that continuing on that path could result in causing a stomach ulcer.

    Being “strong” does not mean that you need to keep things bottled up with no outlet. This is an unconscious thing we tend to do without thinking about the long-term effects. It is vital that we allow ourselves to handle the crisis by finding a positive outlet. Meditation and exercise can be great tools to use that will allow you to release the energy needed.

    3. Let yourself be vulnerable.

    In every healthy relationship, there must be a sense of vulnerability. Whether we’re talking about a romantic relationship or a friendship, vulnerability is needed for each person to be in their truth and for the connection to be genuine.

    When you are put in situations where you have to be strong at all times you tend to build a wall up, what I like to call the “wall of protection.” This is a wall that builds over time and grows as you are forced to overcome more adversity.

    The more you are forced to be strong and fight your battles, the higher the wall gets. In these moments of struggle, you are forced to take on an intensive militant mindset, figure out the problem quickly, and find the solution. You have no room for errors or mistakes. Because you are the strong one, your mind thinks if you allow a mistake everything will crumble.

    I spent years unconsciously pushing people away without knowing it. I was accustomed to handling every battle that came my way on my own. My “wall of protection” eventually turned into this hard exterior that pushed everyone away, including men I was dating. It shielded my soft, playful side and turned me into someone who was a pro at masking her emotions.

    How can you have a genuine relationship with no vulnerability? How can anyone get to know you if they only see and understand one side of you? Eventually, that relationship will drift away because it has no foundation to stand on.

    By putting on your strong masquerade, you block others from seeing the real you. Without allowing someone to get to know you, including your fears and what makes you happy and sad, they are just getting to know your representative, not your true self.

    What if you didn’t have to fight the battle alone? By allowing yourself to be vulnerable and admitting when you are going through hard times, you allow yourself to receive love. And love is by far the most prominent weapon one needs to overcome whatever obstacles come his or her way.

  • How Social Media Is Helping Me Cope with Grief

    How Social Media Is Helping Me Cope with Grief

    “Grief, no matter where it comes from, can only be resolved by connecting to other people.” ~Thomas Horn

    We had just landed in Chicago. I had spent the last three hours on a flight from New Jersey sitting next to grown-ups who didn’t ask me fifty questions every two minutes, while my kids watched a movie with their dad, two rows behind.

    I was looking forward to spending one whole week in Chicago, despite the freezing temps. This was my first real break in eight months, and boy, I had plans! Sleeping in, long baths, reading, and no laptop!

    I switched my phone on as soon as we landed. There was a text from my sister in India that she’d sent a few hours ago. My mom had been in the hospital for two weeks now with a serious lung infection.

    That morning her doctor had given us hope that she was getting better. This was good news, and I was relieved. I tried to call my mom and then my dad, but none of them answered.

    I thought, I’ll try her again when we check in our hotel. I sent her a text, telling her the same along with a video of my two-and-a-half year old son running around the airport. These videos were her life.

    We were in the back of a Black Sedan, on our way to the hotel, when my phone rang. It was my dad. He was crying. I couldn’t even understand what he was saying, but my heart was beating out of my chest.

    The only thing I understood were these words, “She was put on a ventilator.”

    I started crying, but I managed to say, “She will be fine, Papa. Don’t cry. Be strong!” I knew whatever “putting on a ventilator” meant, she would be fine! Goddammit, that was my mom! She was always fine. In reality, I had no idea what that meant.

    The next few hours were a battle she fought alone for her life. She gave a good fight, but eventually, my sweet mama lost the battle. I didn’t just lose my mother. I also lost my best friend and my biggest cheerleader.

    The next day, I carried myself and my heavy heart 8,000 miles away to India.

    The last time I saw my mom was over two years ago. I didn’t get a chance to say goodbye. I will never be able to see her beautiful smile again. I will never hear her sweet voice.

    The next few weeks are a blur. The only thing I remember is seeing her lifeless body.

    I remember her slightly parted lips as if she was about to call my name. Her black hair with greys peeking out, and her soft, supple skin. I kissed on her forehead and wished somehow she would wake up.

    I held her hand and said goodbye to the person who brought me into this world.

    After spending a few weeks back in India with my family, I came back home to New Jersey. With nothing but grief and tears to fill my day with, I returned to work.

    A big part of my work involves staying active on social media. I had taken a brief hiatus, but now I was ready to be back. But how could I talk about anything else other than that one thing that consumed my brain?

    I had built a small yet strong community on my social media platform. Yet, I hesitated. What if someone posted a nasty comment? What if someone told me, “Enough already, stop depressing us!”

    I spent most of my days at my home, crying. My husband was at work, and my kids were in school. I started noticing that other than a few friends who I could literally count on my fingers, others had disappeared from my life.

    My phone never rang.  My friends hardly texted me. When I ran into people, they were so awkward around me. Was it just my imagination?

    Was it just a coincidence that my good friends had just vanished into thin air at that exact moment when I needed them the most?

    It’s said that grief is like waves—sometimes it’s calm, and sometimes it’s like a tsunami. On days when it turned into tsunami, I felt like I was drowning and didn’t know if I would be able to come up for air. Ever.

    Desperate for a human connection, I turned to my small but mighty crowd on social media.

    On Instagram, I talked about my struggles and how I was coping with the loss of my mother. I wrote Facebook posts about my mom and how my kids were learning to calm me down when I broke into tears. In Facebook groups, I shared how my grief was affecting all areas of my life, including my work.

    The response was phenomenal! People sent me flowers and handwritten cards. Some shared their experience of how they dealt with the loss of a loved one.

    Some sent me long, beautiful personal messages and some just one sentence: “How can I help you?”

    These were people I hardly knew, some I had never met. Yet together, they opened their hearts and gave me a platform to grieve.

    Social media often gets a horrible rep, and I totally get it. There are some very nasty people out there. But for every one nasty person online, ten people are on social to be social.

    They are looking for a human connection. Perhaps, when they see raw vulnerability, they extend their hand across their screens. When they read about someone who is going through the same pain as they are, they give their virtual shoulder to cry on.

    Humans need emotional connection. Even more when we are grieving. And sometimes you can’t find it near you. Sometimes you aren’t comfortable talking about it to anyone you know. And sometimes, even if you have people around, you feel they just don’t get it.

    Whatever it is, if you are struggling to talk to someone, know that social media can be a great resource. Use it; don’t shun it. Give it a try.

    Join a Support Group

    There are many great support groups online. A lot of closed Facebook groups dedicated to helping people who are grieving have stringent guidelines and zero tolerance policy. If you are new to social media or wary of sharing your personal stories online, start here.

    Since all the members are going through the same pain, there is a very high level of support. I discovered people who had lost a loved one were the ones who could really understand what I was talking about. And sometimes, it’s so much easier to spill your emotions when no one is staring at you in the eye with uncomfortable silence.

    Rule of 3:1

    Give, give, give, and then make the ask. The rule of social media is the same as the rule of life. You give first, and then you ask.

    Although I was received with an open heart from my community, I believe it was because I had built a relationship with them for six months. I had been there for them. I had provided value to their life or work many times before I made my ask.

    Show Up as You Are

    Don’t try to hide your emotions or pretend to be someone you aren’t. Tell your truth. Show up exactly the state you are in.

    If you are new to social media or don’t use it for anything else other than remembering your friend’s birthday, then this will be hard. Start with a safe place first. Maybe it’s a closed online community of known people or five of your trusted online friends. You don’t need thousands, just a few people whom you build an emotional connection with.

    We are very fortunate to live in a time when information and access are available to us at our fingertips. It’s up to us how we choose to use it.

    My grief is nowhere close to being over. It shall never be. It has changed forms, and I believe it will continue to do so. But, knowing that I have a safe space where I can talk about it without being judged or ridiculed is helping me cope with my grief.

  • Support Shouldn’t Be a Rare Thing

    Support Shouldn’t Be a Rare Thing

  • Stop Talking So You Can Start Feeling

    Stop Talking So You Can Start Feeling

    “Don’t hide from your feelings. Press into them. Learn from them. Grow from them.” ~Unknown

    There have been times in my life when you could look at my cell phone call log and see back-to-back conversations for hours. I am blessed to have a large support system of loving friends and family, and there have been many times when that has saved me from facing my pain.

    If you know anything about attachments styles or are one of millions who suffer from anxiety, you will relate when I tell you that I spent most of my life incredibly anxious. Most of my anxiety had to do with me dealing with people: going to parties where I didn’t know people, knowing someone was unhappy with me, feeling like my needs weren’t being met in relationships, etc.

    I work with many sensitive people and, in more recent years, I have come to accept that I, too, am very sensitive. We are affected by words, punctuation, tone, and demeanor. We know that words say a lot and words combined with punctuation say even more and that we communicate in more ways than is accepted as normal.

    If I had to cancel on a friend and she responded, “That’s fine,” I would start to get worried that she was mad at me. The response that would have appeased my anxiety would have looked more like this: “I totally understand! Look forward to seeing you another time!”

    For many years I thought I had found the perfect solution to this situation: talk to my wise friends who would make me feel better. Client who was not thrilled with me? Ex-boyfriend who posted something insensitive on social media? Friend who was giving me attitude? I picked up the phone for that.

    Because my community of friends was fairly vast, I was able to avoid overusing anyone (though my mom might tell you otherwise). I’d hurriedly vent my frustrations and wait to receive the compassion and wisdom from my loved ones.

    I had the process down: feel hurt, pick up the phone, vent, talk about the problem a lot, hang up, and then call someone else if the wound hadn’t been totally clogged.

    Analytical processing can be useful at times, but more often than not we use it as a crutch so we don’t have to feel our pain. Talking about how I was feeling made me feel productive, but it prevented me from really feeling what was under the anxiety.

    Anxiety was showing me that there were some much bigger feelings underneath the surface that needed my attention, but they would be very uncomfortable to move through.

    A couple years ago I went through an incredibly devastating breakup. I lost everything that mattered: my will for life, a few pounds I didn’t have to spare, and myself. Once the natural grieving process had commenced, I realized nothing had changed. I was not getting better, so I panicked and began my calling sprees again.

    One morning, with tears pouring from my eyes and a deep hole in my chest, I called my mom and asked her to please fly across the country to stay with me. She was heartbroken, but wise enough to know that what I really needed was to get to the place inside myself that wanted to live. She knew she would leave, and I would not be any better off.

    I hung up the phone with her that day and realized I had been using other people to avoid feeling. These feelings were so deep and dark that they felt terrifying to face, but only I could face what was living within me.

    The next time the pain surfaced, instead of picking up the phone, I turned inward. I lay down to do breathwork and faced the painful emotions and fears that were keeping me stuck. Through this long and grueling process I began to transform.

    I didn’t move on from this breakup like I had other times. In fact, this wasn’t even about the breakup—it was a reckoning with my soul. I used this opportunity to really get to know myself. I learned about the human condition, and I came out a different person with more wisdom and compassion.

    I realized that every time I felt a twinge of pain from someone’s words or actions, I had an opportunity to investigate what that meant to me. My habit was to talk it through with people, but the talking always kept me out of really feeling and getting to know the wound it pointed to.

    Through healing, I was able to accept and love the parts of myself that were wounded when others responded to me in ways that triggered pain. I was able to feel it, see where it was coming from, and love myself through it.

    When I stopped talking about my “problems” so much and started to heal the unprocessed emotions causing them, they diminished. I’m able to let things slide off me more easily. When I am triggered, I can look inward to feel where it’s coming from and honor myself through it.

    Instead of running from my pain by picking up the phone, I have found the strength to face my own demons so they no longer control me. Now there is more space in my relationships for interesting and uplifting conversations.

    If you’re struggling with chronic anxiety and spend a lot of time talking about your problems, you can use this breathwork meditation to learn how to heal yourself. This is a practice you can use continuously and also in the moments you feel yourself wanting to avoid your pain by talking about it.

    How To Breathe

    This is a specific two-part inhale that moves stuck emotion from the lower chakras into the heart. Most of our repressed emotions are stored in this energetic center in our bodies. You’re going to be breathing in and out of the mouth, which connects you more deeply to your body and your emotions.

    Most of us have years, if not lifetimes, of unprocessed emotions. This breathwork technique is designed to open up the energetic channels of your body and help the emotions release.

    You’ll first breathe into your low belly, then you’ll take a second inhale into your heart, and you’ll exhale. This inhale and exhale are all done through the mouth. This will connect you to your body and help the energy flow. You do not need to force your exhale. Let it naturally fall out of your body like a sigh of relief.

    1. Get in a quiet space where you won’t be disturbed.
    2. Lay somewhere comfortable on your back.
    3. Put on a playlist with three of your favorite songs.
    4. Close your eyes (you can use an eye mask if you have one) and breathe as per the instructions above to the first two songs. This might feel like work, but just stick with it and focus on the breath. Feel your belly and chest rise. Feel the breath move in and out of the body.
    5. Pay attention to what your body is experiencing. After a few minutes you might feel your body tingling. That’s normal.
    6. If you feel tightness or tension place your awareness there and breathe into it. There is probably some emotion that wants to release.
    7. Once the third song begins release the breath and begin to breathe in and out of the nose. Let your body vibrate here for as long as you like.

    Oftentimes people feel immediate relief after a breathwork practice, but it can also stir up some uncomfortable, deep emotions. This is a meditation you can work with daily to continue the healing process.

    Many of us live in cultures that promote fast payoffs. Healing is a long-term game. If you’re willing to put in the work and be patient, you will begin to notice yourself changing. Sometimes you’ll notice it after one session and sometimes after several. Pay close attention and be very gentle with yourself post session, no matter how you’re feeling.

  • Why No One Wants Unsolicited Advice (and What Actually Helps)

    Why No One Wants Unsolicited Advice (and What Actually Helps)

    “To meet complaint with unrequested council earns for the advisor a fortune of hidden contempt.” ~Greek Proverb

    When people start dumping their complaints and woeful stories on you, how do you respond?

    Do you see it as your golden opportunity to be of help to them?

    Do you make it your mission to put your wealth of knowledge and wisdom to good use by coaching them through their difficulties?

    I mean, isn’t this a great chance to share the extent of your wisdom and understanding, and also be of help to someone in their time of need?

    But the most important question of all is this:

    When you’ve encountered this situation, did they ask you for your assistance before you started advising them?

    When people dumped their complaints on me, there was a time when I took the initiative and voluntarily started counseling them on their problem, even though they never asked me for my guidance.

    I thought I was being helpful.

    But then I made an important breakthrough discovery in maintaining the connections I had with others without accidentally destroying them.

    Let me start at the beginning of my story…

    When someone used to dump their problems on me, I used to think:

    “Oh, they have this problem. I have the answers. I’ll be a good friend or family member and help them solve it, all because I care about them.”

    I remember this one time, a friend of mine was having trouble dating women and he would complain about it to me.

    Guess what I did?

    Did I listen and seek to understand him, where he was coming from, and how he felt about the situation?

    Nope.

    What did I do?

    I started right in on giving him unsolicited advice about how he could get better at dating women.

    I thought I was being helpful.

    But you know what?

    I noticed a very curious thing happening as I did this…

    I observed that his body language and voice tone started showing signs of irritation. I could tell he wasn’t welcoming and responding positively to my advice, even though I knew it was solid, and even though he was verbally agreeing with what I was saying.

    Later, I started to wonder why this was.

    Here he had a problem, I thought. Didn’t he want a solution?

    Surely, he wanted one, right?

    After all, why gripe about something if it’s not going to lead to a constructive outcome that brings about the desired results?

    This investigation led me to question how I reacted when I shared my own problems with people and they responded by giving me unsolicited advice—which, incidentally, only happened for the first time after the incident with my friend and his dating problems.

    Isn’t it funny how we sometimes don’t know that something’s annoying and maybe even condescending until we’ve been on the receiving end of the very same behavior ourselves?

    I find it interesting that we often don’t know that we’re acting in ways that are turn-offs to others until we’ve had someone behave or treat us in the exact same way.

    Isn’t it often only then that we have the epiphany?

    Well, that’s what I learned about giving people unsolicited advice, especially in response to them dumping their problems on me—it’s patronizing and condescending.

    Reacting to people who complain by telling them how they should solve their problems “forcibly” places us in the “superior” role to them. It frames us as the person with the “higher social rank” in the interaction, and lowers the complainer down into an inferior role.

    And who likes to feel inferior to others?

    But what do we think?

    Isn’t it this:

    “Oh, aren’t I being a great friend? I’m helping them out!”

    But is it possible that we’re actually sending them a completely different message from the one we think we are?

    Could it be possible that what they end up hearing is something else?

    And could it also be possible that that message is something offensive and insulting to them?

    Want to know what the recipient of unsolicited advice really hears?

    I’ll warn you…

    It’s not too flattering, and you may be ashamed of yourself to discover the true message behind your actions.

    Between the lines, they hear you saying this to them:

    “I think you’re inadequate and incompetent, and you require my superior knowledge and wisdom to make progress here. Without my help and intervention, you are a helpless victim incapable of dealing with your own problems. You should feel lucky that I’m even putting in my precious time and effort to give you some assistance. Furthermore, I don’t accept you the way you are. I’m making it my mission to change you so that you fit into my ideal of who I think you should be instead of accepting you as you are.”

    Now imagine if someone said that directly to your face.

    How would you feel?

    Probably not very good, right?

    Well, guess what?

    That’s exactly how you’re making people feel when you give them unsolicited advice in response to their complaints.

    So wouldn’t it greatly improve your ability to connect with people and win their esteem if you stopped making them feel this way?

    For what’s more important than earning the love and respect of others?

    Or, would you rather sacrifice their love and respect just so you can have your chance in the spotlight to prop yourself up as a “knowledgeable” and “wise” person?

    And all for what?

    Just to get an ego boost, at someone else’s expense?

    After all, what does it profit us to share our “superior” wisdom and guidance with someone if all it earns us is their contempt?

    And how does that really benefit us and our relationship with that person?

    It doesn’t, does it?

    Now let me ask you this:

    Have you ever asked yourself why people dump their problems on others in the first place?

    What do you think they really want by doing so?

    Do you think they do it because they want a solution to their problem?

    Do you think they do it because they want your help?

    After all, isn’t that what we tell ourselves is the truth of the matter?

    But are those the real reasons?

    After all, if they wanted a solution and some help, wouldn’t they ask us for our feedback, opinions, or advice somewhere in there?

    But do they?

    Well, guess what?

    Almost every time people complain, they’re not doing it because they actually want a solution to their problems. They’re not doing it because they want our help. They’re doing it for another reason altogether.

    And what do they want exactly?

    Simply this:

    To be understood and receive sympathy.

    That’s what they really want.

    And more specifically, what they want is for someone to understand how difficult what they’re going through is for them.

    That’s the response they really want from us.

    Not unsolicited advice.

    Trust me, that’s the last thing they want.

    I mean, are you aware that people secretly hate and resent unsolicited advice, even though they’ll probably never tell us that to our face?

    Instead, they’ll just put on a polite smile while perhaps they secretly fume about it behind their cordial mask.

    I’ve discovered an important lesson in fostering healthy relationships is to stop trying to help people with their problems when they complain about them—unless they specifically ask for it. Instead, I’ve found it much wiser to seek to understand what they’re going through and what they must be feeling.

    Then focus on that.

    What people really want when they complain is to have their feelings not only understood but at the same time validated.

    In short, people simply want affirmation on how much whatever they’re going through sucks and how hard it is.

    If what you want is to connect with people in these types of situations instead of earning their resentment, don’t treat them like they’re a useless person who can’t do anything for themselves with your unrequested guidance.

    Instead, identify the emotion they’re feeling, and then ask them about that.

    Let me give you an example…

    If someone is complaining that a person in their life isn’t giving them enough attention, instead of advising them and giving them tips on how they can get more attention from that person, try to identify what they must be feeling and then ask them about that.

    In this case, you might say:

    “So you’re feeling unloved?”

    Their eyes will probably light up as if you’ve just read their mind, as they exclaim, “Yeah! That’s exactly it!”

    Then you might follow-up with some kind of affirmation and then maybe even tell a very short story that relates to their situation.

    Perhaps you might say:

    “That really sucks, and I think I know what you’re going through. I once had a partner who would only pay me attention when they wanted something from me. I felt like I didn’t really matter to them, like they didn’t really care about me as a person.”

    Why not let people work through their own problems and issues—even if you can see the error of their ways, and even if the solution seems obvious to you.

    Why not respect them and let them figure it out on their own time, on their own terms, and in their own way unless they ask you for help?

    When people dump their complaints and problems on you, if you really care about them, why patronize them with your unsolicited advice?

    Why add fuel to the fire?

    Aren’t they probably already feeling stuck or down enough as it is to have to endure someone’s condescension on top of it?

    So why not try this approach to dealing with others’ complaints?

    I encourage you to test this out the next time you find yourself in a situation where someone is dumping their problems on you.

    Instead of “jumping to their rescue” with your saving grace and advice, seek to discover the emotion they must be feeling.

    Then ask them if that’s how they feel.

    If they confirm your suspicion, affirm how bad that must be, and maybe even share your own short story about the same or similar experience.

    Then I suggest changing the subject at the first opportunity. Maybe even use your story to lead into it—because I wouldn’t advise focusing an entire conversation around how negative something is.

    I believe in nurturing a positive outlook on life, yet at the same time being realistic, honest, and understanding that, yes, life does sometimes suck and it’s wise to accept that rather than living in an illusion where the world is filled with rainbows and lollipops.

    There are, of course, ways of truly helping people with their problems without giving them unsolicited advice, but that’s an article in itself.

    Ultimately, it all comes down to this…

    What would you rather have:

    A strong connection with the people in your life, or the certain knowledge that they harbor hidden feelings of resentment toward you due to your unwanted, condescending advice?

    The choice is yours.

  • There Are Some People You Just Can’t Help

    There Are Some People You Just Can’t Help

    “Be there. Be open. Be honest. Be kind. Be willing to listen, understand, accept, support, and forgive. This is what it means to love.” ~Lori Deschene

    A few months ago, I was totally freaked out.

    I was having a cup of tea with a soul-sister friend, and we were in deep conversation. I was crying.

    I was explaining, between hiccupping sobs, about how there was someone in my life who was suffering deeply.

    Sitting at the café that day, I said to her, “There is this person in my life that I love so deeply, but he is suffering.”

    I told her about all the ways I was connected to this very special person, and told her about how I was committed to helping him.

    My friend was empathetically listening, and my story went on and on.

    “He’s so depressed. When I’m around him, I just suddenly feel so sad. I feel his pain. It’s so deep. I have tried to share my wisdom with him, to help him evolve out of his depressed rut, but he won’t listen. I know he can make a change, but he just won’t listen to me. It’s like his ears are closed to me. What do I do? How can I help him?”

    It was then that my dear friend replied in a way that I will never forget.

    She placed her hand on my shoulder, and looked deeply into my eyes.

    We sat in silence together for a moment.

    Finally, she spoke, with such a gentle tone in her voice. “Anya, your lesson is to learn in this situation is simple, yet difficult. Your lesson is that you cannot help this person. Sometimes, there are people that you just can’t help.”

    I gasped. Chills ran down my spine. Her words resonated through every cell of my body.

    It was all so simple.

    There are people in my life that I just can’t help.

    So simple, yet so profound. Why hadn’t I realized this before?

    And how had I somehow fallen into the trap of taking on someone else’s burden as my own? Why had I gotten trapped in suffering by trying to “fix” someone who was suffering?

    These traps are, unfortunately, all too common for those of us with big open hearts. They are quite common for those of us who are caregivers, lovers, amazing friends, healers, spiritual way showers, and all those who wish to use our lives in service to a higher good.

    Since that day at the café, I’ve been thinking a lot about my sweet friend’s advice. And I’ve come to a few insights of my own.

    First, in order to be helped, a person must first ask for help. A person must make themselves available, vulnerable, open, and humble.

    And this is not easy! It’s not easy to be open. It’s not easy to say, “I don’t know; please help me.”

    Second, in order for you to help someone with your words, that person must first resonate with the kind of wisdom you have to share.

    As a matter of fact, my depressed friend has a totally different worldview than I do, so it’s no wonder he wasn’t open to my words of advice.

    There are a thousand paths and a thousand ways to interpret the world.

    My way may not be your way, and your way may not your neighbor’s way. We are often so different in our concepts and language for interpreting this mysterious thing called life.

    In short, for a person to want your help, that person must be somewhat already aligned to your philosophical or spiritual worldview.

    Further, in order for a person to receive your help, they also must present themselves to you in the most perfect, synchronistic moment.

    Indeed, they must be standing before you in the most precise, delicate moment: the moment just before the blossoming, just before the great change occurs. It can be as small as a split second of opening.

    Timing is everything.

    In that moment of perfect timing, they will be not only ready but hungry for evolution, hungry for growth, hungry for truth, hungry for new ways of seeing the world beyond their limited old perspective!

    My dear friend who is suffering does not want to grow in the way I wish he would (consciously evolve out of suffering through spiritual practice)—at least, not at this time.

    He is suffering and he does not even want to admit that he is suffering. He believes he can achieve no higher or better state in this lifetime.

    Once I realized that there are some people I just can’t help, I felt a tremendous relief. A giant stone lifted from my heart, and I could suddenly breathe again.

    I realized that I had unwittingly taken on his suffering as my own, in a misguided attempt to figure out how to “fix” him. I had allowed my natural empathy to become a wound in my own energetic body.

    If a person you love is stuck in a place of denial to their own suffering or their own addictions or stuckness, then there is a strong possibility that what you say won’t make a bit of difference.

    Denial is an incredibly strong force. And if your worldview differs too much from theirs, then it may not be your place to plant any seeds of wisdom. It may be your place to step back from trying to speak at all.

    That’s a tough lesson of love, I know, but if you can remember it, it will save you a lot of heartache.

    Indeed, if someone is in denial to their own suffering, then that very denial may very well block them from truly hearing you speak.

    So, what do we do in these kinds of situations?

    Can we take any action at all?

    The answer is yes.

    When we deeply love someone and we are invested in them (such as a lover, a friend, a child, or a business partner), what we can do is simply radiate love.

    When we are in their presence, we can be as light, happy, and conscious as possible.

    This light, this presence, this subtle vibration, will subtly shift their energetic field. And though no words are spoken, they will feel a little bit more peace while they are near us (whether they consciously know it or not).

    And we can of course listen to them. When they need to talk, we can listen, and we can offer a hug or a gentle, reassuring smile.

    Indeed, sometimes, when we love someone, the best thing we can do is shut the heck up.

    The best thing we can do is simply be.

    Friends painting by Jerry Weiss

  • How to Be There for Others Without Taking on Their Pain

    How to Be There for Others Without Taking on Their Pain

    “Letting go helps us to live in a more peaceful state of mind and helps restore our balance. It allows others to be responsible for themselves and for us to take our hands off situations that do not belong to us. This frees us from unnecessary stress.” ~Melody Beattie

    When our loved ones suffer, it’s hard not to get swept up in their pain. We want so desperately to fix them, to take away their hardship, and to see them flourishing.

    As a control freak, I often find myself going into “fixer mode” when my partner is struggling with work stress, which only makes me more anxious when nothing I suggest works, and him more frustrated when I get so preoccupied with his issues.

    Then, after all my frantic attempts at control, there’s a little voice inside that tells me to stop. To listen. To be there for him without trying to change anything. To witness his pain and sit next to him while he feels it.

    In this way, it’s not my job to fix his problems. It’s my job to be there for him with love as he figures out how to handle his own suffering. I am freed from feeling the responsibility of taking on his pain.

    Here are a few tips for how to not get overwhelmed when others are suffering.

    Realize that being supportive doesn’t mean fixing their problems.

    I often think back to when my mental health was at its worst. I dealt with debilitating panic disorder, agoraphobia, and depression, and I can’t imagine how difficult it must have been for my family to see me suffering so greatly.

    But what I am most grateful for during that time is that my loved ones never tried to fix me. They didn’t become obsessed with finding a solution, and they didn’t rush me to get better. All of that would have increased my anxiety tenfold.

    Instead, they simply supported me. They constantly let me know that they were there for me if I needed them. Just knowing that I had someone to count on if things got hard was incredibly helpful.

    One way we can be supportive of others is to practice listening without the intent to respond with solutions. What would that be like if we simply held space for others without needing to respond?

    I took a yoga workshop recently where we partnered up with a stranger and took turns sharing our struggles. The one not speaking had to simply listen and was not allowed to respond.

    So we practiced listening with our whole bodies, hearts, and minds, released from the need to think of something to say in return. Instead, we got to be a loving witness to this person’s experience.

    Sometimes all that our loved ones need is to be seen and to know that someone is there for them.

    Allow them to find their own way.

    This can be hard. It’s hard to let go of control so much that you allow other people to have their own journeys. If my family or partner had stepped in during my rough patches with panic disorder, I wouldn’t have gone through the trenches of it myself.

    I wouldn’t have learned my own strength. I wouldn’t have been so amazingly transformed, body, mind, and soul, as I am now.

    At that time, I didn’t need someone to take away my pain; I needed someone to be there with love and patience as I experienced my own pain.

    Can we offer loving suggestions? Sure. Can we help them in productive ways? Of course. But at the end of the day, it is their lesson to learn. And we have to practice letting go of the outcome.

    When a relative passed from cancer a couple of years ago, it was horrifying to see her transform from a vibrant woman to a frail, bedridden one, writhing in pain. Those last few days, she lost her vision. She couldn’t eat or drink. All she wanted was for the suffering to end.

    After witnessing this, I automatically wanted to take on that pain. I felt it as my own. I started to suffer the pain she was experiencing.

    Eventually, I had to realize that this was her journey. This was her pain, not mine, and I didn’t have to take that on. It actually doesn’t help anyone or anything for us to carry around pain that isn’t even ours.

    Realize that you’re only responsible for yourself.

    You can’t control other people. You can’t control who suffers and who doesn’t. And what a burden that would be if we felt we needed to safeguard everyone in our lives from pain. That’s too overwhelming.

    You are only responsible for yourself. So how can you take better care of yourself as you care for others?

    If there’s someone in your life who is going through a rough time, you have to respect your own limits. You have to set boundaries in how much you can safely and lovingly give.

    Giving to others when we are depleted ourselves doesn’t serve us, and it doesn’t serve them if they aren’t receiving your help out of love, but out of obligation or fear.

    Instead, find ways you can care for and respect yourself so that you can be available as a support if that feels appropriate and safe for you.

    Practice grounding back into your own body and energy field often.

    When we’re caring for others, we may have a tendency to take on their energy. It’s like when we’re around an angry person. Even if we’re not angry ourselves, we may feel our heart quicken, our breathing become shallow, and our temperature start to rise.

    Practice grounding back into your own body so that you can recognize what’s yours and what is not.

    One way to do this is to get physical, connecting back to your own body through yoga, exercise, and dance.

    Immerse yourself in nature. I love to go hiking when I get overwhelmed with others’ energy and allow the grounding energy of the earth to support me. Spend time alone.

    Anything you can do to bring your attention back to your own body will serve you in grounding your energy.

    —

    It can be very difficult to separate ourselves from others and to let go of needing to take away our loved ones’ pain. It’s something I still struggle with, but I’m learning every day that I am not responsible for anyone else. I can be there with love and kindness, but beyond that is out of my control.

    All I can control is how well I care for myself, so that this love can then ripple out in support of others.

  • How to Use Silence to Help Your Hurting Friend

    How to Use Silence to Help Your Hurting Friend

    “Sitting silently beside a friend who is hurting may be the best gift we can give.” ~Unknown

    There’s a time for words and a time for silence. Thankfully, when I went through one of the darkest periods of my life, I had friends who knew what time it was.

    When things go well, your friends don’t usually need to show up in silence. But everything changes when you go through a season of intense pain and disappointment. I know this from firsthand experience.

    My life took a drastic turn for the worse when the first ride of the season on our motorcycle ended abruptly. A driver who should have stopped and waited turned left onto the highway, right in front of us. In that moment, we met a world of hurt.

    After the initial crash, which I barely survived, I experienced incredible peace and gratitude. I was in a great deal of pain, but I found myself grateful for my family, the excellent care I was receiving, and hope for a better future.

    In the early days of repair and recovery, I appreciated the friends and family who came to visit. I enjoyed hearing their news and talking about my journey. I read, with gratitude, the cards that were filled with words of encouragement and love.

    But I also appreciated the times when words were not spoken. My true friends would watch me fall asleep in the middle of a conversation and not be bothered. They knew I needed the rest and were okay sitting in silence.

    When Silence Meant the Most

    At the four-month point of my recovery, the pain and loss took a turn for the worse. An infection in my leg that was supposed to be killed two months earlier was alive and well. It resulted in an unexpected re-admittance to the hospital and a painful fourth surgery.

    After that fourth surgery, the reality of my situation started to sink in. My body would never be the same again. The next marathon I was planning to run would never see me at the starting line. The door into a brand new work opportunity that opened up just before the accident was slammed shut.

    As the losses mounted, my infected leg throbbed under the pain of reconstruction. I slipped into depression and struggled to find relief physically and emotionally. The pain medicine took the edge off the physical pain but the emotional pain was relentless.

    At one particular low point in the hospital bed, my wife and two life-long friends sat with me. In the void of silence, something powerful happened. I started to cry shallow tears at first, but then guttural sobs that came from the deep pain I was feeling.

    At that point in my hurt, I would have snapped had someone told me, “It will be okay. Hang in there. You’ll get through this.” Those words would have felt like patronizing pity and been no comfort at all.

    What I was given in the silence was the best gift I could have received. I wasn’t out of the woods, but I had moved ever so slightly in the direction of healing and being present with my pain and struggle.

    I had a similar experience two days later in the same hospital room. Another dear friend came to visit, not with answers or platitudes, but with support and a willingness to sit in silence. He received my tears in silence without feeling awkward and left having given me a gift.

    Life Lessons on How to Help a Hurting Friend

    Through my experience with silence, I harvested several takeaways. I apply these lessons to myself and give them to you as you seek to help those in your life who hurt.

    Human Companionship Helps Carry the Pain

    When you go through a painful experience, part of the load only you can carry. Part of the load, however, can be shared by companions who travel with you. My friends drove me around, shoveled my driveway, looked after my work, and brought me the snacks I really enjoyed. But they also helped me carry my pain.

    Carrying the pain of another can be a challenging task, but when it happens, it’s like a cup of cold water on a hot day. When my friends sat with me in silence while I hurt physically and emotionally, they provided reassurance and support so I would keep going and not lose hope.

    Well-Placed Words Can Be a Comforting Distraction

    Sometimes we use words because we’re uncomfortable with silence. Sometimes we use words because we’re uncomfortable with pain and suffering. But words offered at the right time and in the right way can also be life giving.

    The words I appreciated when in pain were the stories of life and experiences in the outside world. I enjoyed hearing about the holidays taken to warm places, babies being born, and the jokes being told.

    The stories became a comforting distraction from the pain and difficulty I was experiencing. There were times when I wasn’t in the mood for their stories, but if that was the case, I would just simply tell them and they would revert to silence.

    Friends Give Us Strength to Hold Our “Why?”

    When I carried an overwhelming load of loss and grief, I asked “Why?” Asking “Why?” is a natural response to loss. The problem comes when we demand an answer and never get to a place of accepting our situation.

    The friends who helped me while I was asking “Why?” were the ones who didn’t try to answer the question but sat in silence and allowed the question to be the elephant in the room.

    I felt strength when my friends held “Why?” with me without needing an answer or making me feel bad for asking.

    Friends Remind Us We’re Not Alone

    Online social networks meet a certain need for connection, but when we’re in pain, they’re not enough. You need warm-blooded people to be present with you when you hurt. I certainly did. Having friends like or comment on my Facebook status helped, but it wasn’t enough.

    The presence of a true friend who is able to sit in silence meets the human need for connection and affects us more than we know. You know it matters because when you are alone for too long, depression and despair starts to set in.

    Just By Being Present, Friends Might Be Doing Enough

    When I was in pain the physiotherapist forced me to get out of bed the day after surgery, I dreaded it. I knew I needed to get moving again, but the pain and struggle was intense. What helped was a friend or family member who walked in silence beside or behind me.

    My friends saw my pain and struggle and couldn’t take it away. What they could do was be present, and when they did, made my life just a little easier to endure.

    Who in your life is in a world of hurt? Who could you help, not with words, but with your presence?

    If you don’t have the right words, don’t worry. Your presence and willingness to sit in the silence may be the best gift you could give your friend.

  • What to Do When Someone You Love Is Sick and Struggling

    What to Do When Someone You Love Is Sick and Struggling

    “Love is not what you say. Love is what you do.” ~Unknown

    As a graduate student in public health, I spent my days talking about illness and death. Normal lunchtime conversations among students covered topics like: how to define a case of multiple sclerosis, the most effective strategy to stop HIV transmission among injection drug users, and the probability you’d be alive in five years after a breast cancer diagnosis.

    None of this talk about illness remotely prepared me for the experience of illness. I was blissfully naive when I started dating a man named Evan with a cough that wouldn’t go away.

    Over the course of a year, Evan got progressively worse in a series of fits and starts. He was in and out of the hospital and died toward the end of 2012. I was heartbroken and devastated. But within a few years, I healed and was back to participating in normal life.

    Then, I started getting dizzy spells and severe face pain. A few months later, a very large yet benign tumor was removed from one of my sinuses. I spent months confined to my apartment waiting for my sinuses to heal and the pain to subside.

    Through these experiences, I’ve seen how a lot of our well-intentioned responses to illness don’t have the intended impact. Here are the top eight lessons I’ve learned a lot about how to be a terrific support as a family member or friend.

    1. Do what is needed, not what you think you should do.

    At the lowest points in Evan’s illness, I had a hard time eating. I barely slept. I was always bracing for what would happen next.

    Evan spent twenty-one nights in the hospital over the course of eleven months. I didn’t spend any.

    Not because I didn’t want to. Because he asked me to leave. Because he wanted me to get enough rest so that he could count on me coming back.

    So that I’d be safe to drive and bring him outside food. So that he could trust me to research the doctor’s recommendations and help him communicate his choices.

    Because he could tell how scared I was, and my fear was making him feel anxious.

    Many of us have dreams of being the valiant caregiver who selflessly never leaves the hospital bedside for a moment. If that’s how you think it will go down, I want to tell you something: that may not be what your loved one needs from you.

    Leaving their side can feel awful. You may feel crushing guilt from not being able to do enough. Friends or family may question your commitment. And when things are really bad, there’s the gnawing fear that you’ll miss out on the moments when you were truly needed.

    But if going home to sleep, taking a walk, or spending an hour crying on your friend’s shoulder is going to make the difference between you being a guilt-laden, anxious wreck and your best self, that is what your loved one needs from you. Serious illness is a marathon. Don’t mistake it for a sprint.

    2. If your loved one wants to talk to you about death, listen.

    For most of the time that Evan was ill, we thought that he had a lung disease that was treatable. It was only in the last two weeks of his life, the day after they sedated him and put him on a ventilator, that we found out that he was terminal. A rare form of lung cancer.

    A month before his death, when he was still at home, Evan had talked to me about what he wanted me to do if he didn’t make it. I cut him off after one sentence.

    Of course I would do what he asked, but I told him that this wasn’t something we needed to talk about. He was going to get healthy!

    This conversation is my biggest regret.

    Evan didn’t think I deserved a boyfriend who was sick. He tried to break up with me twice so I could go find a “normal” boyfriend. I wasn’t having it.

    On that night, I wish I had acknowledged how scary things were for him. I wish I had let him know that whatever happened, I had no regrets about the time we spent together. Because I never got another chance.

    Don’t miss an opportunity to hear what your loved one wishes for you, because you think you’ll be able to do it later. Later, may never come.

    3. Every so often, check in on the support person.

    After Evan died I met up with my friends Derek and Tatiana who had been on their own journey through illness. They were engaged, and Tatiana had been in treatment for breast cancer during the same time that my boyfriend was ill. Derek had been taking care of her. When we met up we laughed about all the well-meaning people who emailed us “cures.”

    Derek and I agreed that one difficulty was how friends and family were so focused on how the patients were progressing that us caregivers often felt invisible and unappreciated. Everyone wanted to know how the patient was doing, what treatment we were trying, and if it was working. But few asked me and Derek how we were doing.

    It’s natural for people to be curious about what’s happening with the illness and the patient. But illness impacts all the people close to the patient, too. Caretakers shift our work schedules so we can be there at the important doctor appointments. We file the bureaucratic hospital paperwork. We learn the ins and outs of insurance companies.

    Being a support person is stressful and scary, yet caregivers often feel conflicted about asking for help themselves. They don’t want to draw attention or resources away from the patient. As a friend, regularly checking in on what you can do to help the support person can help them be a more reliable support.

    4. Don’t hide the fact that you’re unhappy for months.

    When your loved one is sick, you may decide that you want to put off a difficult conversation with them. I know, because I’ve been both the support person who has put off the conversation and the sick person who wasn’t told something.

    When I was sick, I wasn’t able to be the kind of friend that I was when I was healthy. I was grumpy. I wasn’t as quick to pick up on nonverbal cues. My thinking was muddled and foggy.

    During this time, I had a close friend who got tired of sick Lori. When I reached out to her, she would delay our get together, chalking things up to a busy work schedule. Eventually she would agree to meet up and then not enjoy the time we spent together.

    Months later, when I was feeling better I asked her if something was wrong. To her credit, she fessed up that she hadn’t been feeling satisfied by our friendship for months. She hadn’t said anything because she was worried I wouldn’t be able to take it. We are no longer friends.

    If you’re feeling unhappy about a relationship with a person who is sick, don’t bottle it up and hope it will go away. If you’re just showing up out of a sense of duty, you won’t have much staying power. And that day when you disappear with no chance of returning is more than a disappointment for your sick loved one. It’s a crisis.

    5. Understand that “cheering up” a sick person may backfire.

    The surgeon who took it out my tumor warned me that it would be months before I was pain-free and back to normal life. I shared this information with my family.

    Nevertheless, about two weeks after the surgery my mom started asking me if I was pain-free every time she texted me. Three weeks after surgery, she sent me pictures of her trip to Disneyworld with the rest of my family. We’re at the Magic Kingdom!!! There’s a new Under the Sea ride!!! Hopefully, you are out of pain by now!!!

    I’m sure that my mom’s intention was to try and cheer me up. To remind me that there were fun things to look forward to in life.

    Instead, those texts and photos broke my heart. They showed me that my mom was not ready to accept the seriousness of my situation.

    I was at the beginning of six weeks of excruciating pain and no effective medication to counter it. I spent a few hours each day screaming into a pillow and questioning whether life was worth this much pain. After those texts, I stopped asking my mom for emotional support, because I no longer believed she could give it.

    If your loved one is really sick, be sensitive. Acknowledge how tough things are before you gush about your magical vacation, your budding romance, or the wild dance party you went to last night. And if your loved one tells you they’re not in the mood for happy stories right now, honor their wishes.

    6. Realize that your chicken soup may not be wanted or helpful.

    Healing often means special diets. After my surgery I was on a paleo diet with a Chinese medicine twist. Every few weeks the Chinese medicine recommendations would shift as my body’s needs shifted.

    It was exhausting to keep track of what I was supposed to eat and what I wasn’t. But I couldn’t deny that the diet was helping. I was feeling better.

    So every time someone offered to make food for me I felt anxious. My dietary rules were complex and varying, and for a while I was in so much pain that I was communicating with a whiteboard, which made it hard to communicate the myriad ways you could mess up.

    There is nothing worse than receiving food that a kind person has made for you that you can’t eat. Even though you tried to tell them how they had to read the ingredients list on everything. Even rotisserie chicken. Because that “seasoning” contains gluten that you’re not supposed to eat.

    If you do make food for someone on a restricted diet, know that you are not just making food. You are making medicine. And your care and attention to detail needs to be the same as if you were preparing to give someone medicine.

    7. Be prepared for plans to change.

    Every year, my friend Charlotte invites a group of us out to dinner for her birthday. When she invited me in 2015, I told her it would be a long shot for me to go, but I wanted to try. Her birthday came two months after my surgery.

    I was in bad shape. I was having pain episodes that had me crying into a pillow a few times a day. I was also on a restricted diet and trying to limit my physical activity so I wouldn’t spark new pain episodes.

    Charlotte is one of my closest friends, and she did everything she could to make it work. She chose a restaurant that had food I could eat. She called ahead and asked about stairs and elevators. She figured out which of the options had the shortest possible distance between where she could drop me off and the front door.

    And I still couldn’t go. The pain was too bad and I was too tired. I didn’t want her birthday to be spent watching someone cry in pain at her table. Thankfully, Charlotte was understanding.

    If your loved one is sick, the fact that they need to change plans in no way reflects how much they care about you. They are not in control of what happens. Trust that they are doing their best. Don’t take it personally.

    8. Take all of these guidelines with a grain of salt.

    The one certain rule is that there are no certain rules. Depending on the circumstances and the people involved, all of these things could change. Some people may want you to distract them from the circumstances or the pain by pretending that everything is like it used to be. Or they may appreciate you holding your tongue.

    If you aren’t sure that what you are doing is feeling good to the sick person, ask them. Let them know that it’s okay to tell you the truth. You want to care for them and if there’s anything that you can do differently to take better care of them, you want to know what it is.

    Have you been ill? What did you find most supportive? Least supportive?

    Have you been a caregiver? What are you most proud of? What do you wish you had done differently?