Tiny Buddha

Tag: toxic

  • How to Cope with a Toxic and Estranged Family Relationship

    How to Cope with a Toxic and Estranged Family Relationship

    “Letting go doesn’t mean giving up, but rather accepting that there are things that cannot be.” ~Unknown

    You two are family. Maybe you grew up with them and were by their side for a huge chunk of their life. There was a lot of laughing, crying, and sharing. Some fighting too.

    You know how their brain works probably better than anyone else. But sometimes, in adulthood, those closest to you can become unrecognizable—estranged, cold, and careless. For no apparent reason, you find yourself shut out of their life. Your peace-feelers are increasingly rejected. You’ve been left out in the cold.

    There is always a reason why people turn out the way they do. But, sometimes the metamorphosis is so gradual that it sneaks up on you, and one day, you wake up and wonder, “How did it come to this?”

    You want them back. So you start to question and blame yourself. Was it the time I chose to go to the party instead of keeping her company? Was it when I used his things without asking? What did I do to deserve this? What can I do to make it better?

    While it’s good to ask yourself such questions, sometimes the lesson you are meant to learn is to let go of the memory of who they were and accept who they have become.

    This is based on my own relationship with my sister. We’d always been close, and when I was growing up, I looked up to her as my role model. I was shy, nerdy, and runty. She was pretty, popular, and good at sports.

    But after she went to college and, four years later, I followed suit on another continent, our lives didn’t really intersect. When we did meet, we’d butt heads about a lot of things. She had grown bitter in the years post high school, while I’d grown up, become assertive, and was impulsively exploring the world. Still, despite our differences, I thought we’d always be there for one another.

    Then she got married to a man who doesn’t get along with me or our parents. They began living in a strange emotional autarky.

    She grew very cold, defensive, and resentful toward our family and began to cut me out of her life. I tried to reach out and mend the relationship, but she refused to open up. She’s always been proud that way.

    One day when I told her I loved her and wished we could be close like before, she replied, “That was a long time ago.”

    Over the last few years, the relationship has really gone downhill. I’ve struggled with the hurt of “losing” my sister, as well as feelings of self-blame as I struggled to find a reason for her change. I have racked my brain for memories of what I could’ve done wrong, but my mind draws a blank.

    Then, I decided I didn’t want to dwell on feeling hurt any longer. I didn’t want to keep longing for and trying to rekindle the sisterhood we once had.

    I have come to realize my sister is not the person I once knew, and I have to accept that, learn to let go, and move on. That is how I decided to take certain decisions for the sake of my own happiness and mental health.

    I hope this advice can help those who may be experiencing a toxic and estranged relationship with a family member with whom they had once been close.

    1. Identify in what ways the relationship may be toxic and how it makes you feel.

    A toxic relationship can manifest in many ways. Perhaps your relative always puts you down, lacks empathy, acts passive-aggressive, or ignores you when you speak.

    Once you have pinpointed the person’s patterns of behavior, become aware of how this affects your mood, body language, energy levels, self-esteem, and peace of mind. Knowing how to recognize toxicity and its effects is the first step to understanding your feelings and empowering yourself to deal with the situation.

    2. Accept that you may never find the root cause for your relative’s behavior.

    People do therapy for years—there’s never a simple answer. You may be able to talk to your relative to find out why s/he acts a certain way. You may not. Sometimes, the reason why a person treats you badly may not have anything to do with what you’ve done, but might just be the way they process and respond to their own life experiences. Hardships may strengthen one person and make another bitter.

    In any case, try to reframe toxicity by understanding it tends to come from a place of unhappiness or discontent. People’s hurtful actions will then become less hurtful to you when you realize they reflect their inner state rather than you.

    3. Do not normalize toxicity.

    If you have done nothing wrong, don’t forget it is not normal for anyone to continually be negative, inconsiderate, and hurtful toward you. It is very easy to lose perspective about what is right and wrong, especially when you are constantly justifying a person’s behavior with stories of their past traumas or hardships.

    People tend to make concessions for difficult or estranged loved ones because they wish to forgive and forget, avoid conflict, or do not want to push the person farther away. Empathy is good, but it cannot be used to keep making excuses for terrible behavior. Sometimes you need to set limits and say “enough!” before such behavior becomes the new normal.

    4. Don’t expect anything from your estranged relative.

    Yes, you might expect your family to have your back because you’d do the same, but don’t count on it with an estranged relative with whom you struggle to maintain a relationship. I’ve learned not to be dependent or expect any help from my sister, even though I grew up believing that’s what siblings should do for one another.

    5. Realize it takes two people to fix a relationship.

    As much as you try, if the other person is not ready or not willing, you may not fix much. The relationship will remain toxic for as long as the person is unable to change. You cannot blame yourself for it. You have done your best.

    6. Decide how much space you want to give them in your life.

    You will probably encounter your relative again at family gatherings, or you may need to communicate with them about family matters. In this case, minimize the amount of time you spend in their presence and keep communication to a minimum.

    Sometimes, though, you may need to cut them out of your life entirely, whether permanently or momentarily. Keeping a space open for them and constantly making the effort to reach out is emotionally exhausting.

    Once you have deemed you have tried enough and done your best, don’t feel guilty about drawing the line and deciding that enough is enough.

    7. Don’t bottle things up.

    Communicate your feelings to people you trust. If the person knows your relative, you may learn that they also share the same feelings of hurt and disappointment in dealing with him/her.

    Talking through your feelings is therapeutic and helps you acquire perspective about the situation.

    In my case, my parents also have a toxic relationship with my sibling, and I found that letting them talk about it and encouraging them not to bottle things up has been a great release for them.

    8. Refrain from frequently gossiping about your relative, especially to a wide circle of people.

    There is a difference between sharing your feelings with people you trust and constantly focusing all conversations on this individual and what s/he did or said. You risk getting into the habit of speaking badly of someone, and the conversation will often just keep going around in circles. Also, the negative talk can return to your relative’s ears and feed the cycle of negativity and estrangement.

    Instead, decrease the mental and emotional energy spent thinking about your relative, and focus on the positive aspects of your life and your loved-ones’ lives.

    9. Don’t give your relative an opportunity to blame you.

    People like my sister are often extreme narcissists who blame everyone but themselves. It is important not to give him or her ammunition for this blame-game. If he/she always shows up late, acts rude, never tidies up, or uses your things, resist the temptation to do the same in return. Do the right thing and s/he won’t be able to reproach you for anything.

    10. Accept you may not be able to have a frank, heart-to-heart conversation.

    My sister goes through life demonstrating a character devoid of vulnerability or weakness. If you are faced with an emotionally inaccessible and excessively proud individual, you may have to accept the fact that you may never have that cathartic moment of truth you so crave. Strive for closure on your side and move on.

    11. Shift your focus.

    Do not dwell on the pain and hurt of “losing” a relative. Don’t focus on trying to grapple with the toxic relationships in your life. Build upon the positive ones you have instead. Accept the cards that life has dealt you and make the best of them. Live your life and cultivate your soul. Be content and grateful for what you have and who you are, for that is more than enough to fill a heart with happiness!

    **This post was originally published in October, 2017.

  • Why It’s Not Your Fault You’re in a Toxic Relationship

    Why It’s Not Your Fault You’re in a Toxic Relationship

    I remember the first time it dawned on me that I was in an unhealthy relationship. Not just one that was difficult and annoying but one that could actually be described as “toxic.”

    It was at a training event for a sexual abuse charity I worked for. I immediately felt like a fraud!

    How could I be working there, helping other women get out of their unhealthy relationships and process their pain and trauma, but not realize how unhealthy my own relationship was?

    How did I not know?

    Typically, as I had always done, I beat myself up over it.

    I should have known, I’m a professional. How could I even call myself that now?’

    Shame.

    It was always there lurking in the background.

    Maybe deep down I had known … consciously, most definitely not.

    And so, while someone talked us through the “cycle of abuse,” I sat there seeing my relationship described to perfection.

    We had a nice time until something felt off. The atmosphere changed, and I could sense the tension building. No matter what I tried, no matter how hard I went into people-pleasing mode, I couldn’t stop it from escalating.

    There was always a huge argument of some sort, and we’d end up talking for hours, going round in circles, never finding any kind of solution.

    Just more distance and disconnection.

    I never felt heard. Just blamed. It didn’t even matter what for. Somehow everything was always my fault. And most of that time, that ‘everything’ was nothing at all. Just made up problems that seemed to serve as an excuse to let off some steam, some difficult feelings.

    We never resolved anything. We just argued for days … and nights. It was exhausting.

    Then came the silence. I knew it well, had experienced it throughout my childhood too.

    “If you don’t give me exactly what I want or say exactly what I need you to say, I’ll take all my ‘love’ away and treat you like you don’t exist or matter to me.”

    Looking back now, that may have been the most honest stage in our relationship because that’s how I felt constantly— insignificant, unloved, and like I didn’t matter.

    But somehow, out of the blue, we made up. We swiped it under the invisible rug that became a breeding ground for chronic disappointment and resentment. It was a very fertile rug.

    I guess it also helped us move into the next stage of the cycle: the calm before the storm … until it all started up again.

    So how come I didn’t realize that I was (and had been!) in an unhealthy relationship?

    Was I stupid? Naive? Uneducated?

    None of those things. I was successful, competent, and a high achiever.

    I was highly educated, had amazing friendships, and made it look like I had the perfect life.

    Because it’s what I wanted to believe. It’s what I needed to believe.

    But most of all, it’s all I knew.

    The relationship I was in was like all the others that had come before.

    I never felt loved or wanted, sometimes not even liked, but that’s just how it was for me. Somehow, my partners would always find something wrong with me.

    My mother too.

    According to them, I was too sensitive, took things too personally, and couldn’t take a joke.

    I said the wrong things, set them off in strange ways, or didn’t really understand them, and was too selfish or stubborn to care deeply enough for them.

    Which is funny because all I did was care.

    I cared too much, did too much, and loved too much, just not myself.

    And so, I stayed. Because it felt normal.

    It’s all I’d ever known.

    I didn’t get hit, well, not in the way that police photos show. And pushing and shoving doesn’t count, right?

    (Neither does that one time I got strangled. My partner at the time was highly stressed at work, and I said the wrong thing, so it definitely didn’t count …).

    Being shouted and sworn at was also not real abuse. It was just “his way.” I knew that and still stayed, so how could I complain?

    See, I paid attention to different signs, the ones portrayed in the media. Not the everyday ones that insidiously feel so very normal when you’ve grown up in a household in which you didn’t matter either.

    The point is that we repeat what we know.

    We accept what feels familiar whether it hurts us or not. It’s like we were trained for this, and now we run the marathon of toxic love every day of our lives completely on autopilot.

    Most of the time we don’t even question it. It just feels so familiar and normal.

    The problem with this is that we stay far too long in situations that hurt us. And so, the first part of leaving is all about educating yourself on what is healthy and what isn’t so that you know.

    Because once you know, you can’t unknow, and you’ll have to start doing something about it.

    And that’s what I did.

    I learned all about unhealthy relationships and how to have healthy ones. This required me to heal my own wounds, let go of beliefs and habits that kept me choosing people that just weren’t good for me, and learn the skills I needed to know to have healthy relationships such as being connected to my feelings, needs, and wants or setting boundaries effectively.

    Relationships are difficult and painful when no one has taught you how to connect in healthy ways that leave you feeling liked, respected, and good about yourself.

    And so, it’s not really our fault when our adult relationships fail or feel like they’re breaking us.

    But we need to put ourselves back in charge and take responsibility for learning how to create the relationships we actually want to be in.

    So let me reassure you and tell you that that is possible.

    I did it, and so I know that you can do it too.

    But it all starts with deciding that you’re done with the painful relationship experiences you are having and that you’re committed to making EPIC LOVE happen.

    A love that leaves you feeling appreciated and satisfied.

    A love that feels safe.

    A love that lets you rise and thrive.

    A love in which you feel better than “good enough.”

    Decide, choose that kind of love and say yes to yourself.

    That’s the first act of real love.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

    Childhood Trauma Destroys Trust

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

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

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

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

    Your Intuition is Your Superpower

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

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

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

    Rebuilding Self-Trust

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

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

    Spend time alone and reconnect with yourself.

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

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

    Practice mindfulness.

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

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

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

    Process stuck energies.

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

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

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

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

    Put yourself first.

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

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

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

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

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

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

    —

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

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

  • Toxic Help: 3 Signs Your Support Is Doing More Harm Than Good

    Toxic Help: 3 Signs Your Support Is Doing More Harm Than Good

    “There is no exercise better for the heart than reaching down and lifting people up.” ~John Holmes

    As someone who people often come to seeking help or advice, I recently encountered a new situation for me: one in which I chose to stop helping someone and walk away entirely because I determined it wasn’t good—for the other person or myself.

    It felt like the wrong thing to do, but once I had some distance, I knew I had made the right decision. Throughout the helping, I soldiered on and helped and helped and helped until it no longer felt good, and sometime after that I determined it was no longer help at all—it was enablement.

    My good friend—let’s call him Jack—has had a series of extremely toxic relationships. Infidelity, dramatic and very public confrontations, drug abuse, police involvement…. Jack has always played the role of victim in these cases, and in the three relationships I saw him in during the time of our friendship, he was cheated on, dumped, thrown out of the house, and physically abused. He can’t seem to help himself in this regard.

    Last year, he entered a relationship that was problematic before it even began. The very first official date with Henry, the guy who later became his partner, Henry stormed out of a dinner with a group of people, got extremely intoxicated, and got into a fist fight (with a legally blind person no less) and thrown out of another establishment later. This was all on the first date mind you!

    In a sense, this was very lucky. When someone shows you their worst selves, that is often after years together, a shared home, or maybe even a marriage. At that point, it’s usually emotionally and perhaps even logistically very difficult to walk away. On date #1, not so much!

    And yet, Jack persisted.

    Over the course of the next few weeks, Henry, who was already living paycheck to paycheck, was fired from his new job (for which he relocated internationally) for having a shouting match with the boss, and had a dramatic fight with his older sister, who was his only acquaintance in this new country and perhaps his only source of financial support.

    It also became clear the guy was an alcoholic and drug addict. Without a job or the help of his sister, who do you think he immediately turned to for money? Yup, Jack.

    Before too long, Henry’s temper tantrums were directed at Jack’s friends, including myself. The first day I met him, Henry screamed and yelled at me over dinner. In short order, the temper tantrums were turned on Jack, and soon the words became closed fists. He beat up Jack a few times—once leaving Jack with a pair of black eyes—and yet, it was Henry who dumped Jack. Jack kept coming back for more!

    This all unfolded over the course of about six months. During this time, Jack frequently sought my advice. Whenever we talked, I of course let him know how unacceptable Henry’s behavior was, but also tried to get Jack to accept the deeper reality of the situation—that no one who was okay with themselves would tolerate this type of behavior from someone else and that Jack needed to really work on himself.

    As the situation became more threatening and then violent, I counseled Jack in no uncertain terms that it was time to get the hell out of there. Had I been aware shortly after the physically violent episodes (Jack only told me weeks after the fact), I very likely would have become directly involved and called the police.

    After each of these conversations, Jack’s mood brightened from despondent to anywhere from determined to energized. He was going to take action. He was going to see a therapist. He was going to stop giving Henry money and leave him. He was going to make sure not to speak with him alone. And each time… nothing. Same story each time. Each time I saw Jack, Henry was there, often belligerent, and always intoxicated with something.

    However, as incomprehensible as Jack’s behavior and decision-making seemed, it’s not uncommon for victims of abuse, who often suffer from past traumas and therefore have underlying emotional and psychological issues that require professional attention. In fact, it has a name: trauma bonding. I was aware of that, so beyond trying to help protect Jack’s physical safety, I was patient in nudging him toward seeing someone.

    What finally did it for me—the last straw—was after the second or third incident of physical abuse. Jack’s friends, some of whom I knew, were very happy to gossip and complain about the situation behind Jack’s back, especially insofar as it affected their social plans. However, they didn’t intervene or offer him help in any way that I could see.

    Likewise, Jack lived at home with his parents and siblings. Even after coming home black and blue and bleeding, they took no action and never discussed the situation.

    A week later, there were social media postings of Jack and Henry back together again, all smiles. The friends who knew of the abuse? They awarded those posts with smiley faces, hearts, and thumbs up.

    At that point, I realized that I just couldn’t fight this battle alone. It’s difficult enough to try and help someone who is not able to help themselves and indeed seems intent on hurting themselves, but when such a person’s self-destructive behavior is supported and enabled by a whole community of people surrounding them? That is an impossible situation, so I took myself out of it and broke contact. I was out of the country at the time, so it was easier to do this at that point.

    I thought about why I did this. It wasn’t because Jack was so intent on his self-destructive behavior—that just made it difficult, and it’s hardly a unique circumstance. It wasn’t because it was unpleasant—helping someone who really needs it often isn’t pleasant or glamorous, however good it might feel after the fact. And it also wasn’t that I felt in danger from Henry—he was a classic bully, beating up on people weaker than he was, but I didn’t have to see him.

    No, this was something else entirely. This was “toxic help,” and I thought about it and figured out three ways to identify it as such. With these conditions, it’s difficult for me to imagine any help actually being helpful, in which case it’s better for you and indeed everyone else if you extricate yourself.

    3 Ways to Identify Toxic Help

    1. You check yourself and don’t like what you find.

    Whenever you help someone, you should always check yourself first to ensure that this help is coming from a good place, from the standpoint of both your mind and emotions.

    The ego often plays a critical role in instances of toxic help. If you delve deep, you may find that you are actually pushing some agenda or subconscious ulterior motive on the other person.

    For example, you may be helping in part because you are re-enacting some past trauma or mistake you made and trying to fix your past self. Or, you may be trying to impress the person or make yourself feel superior. There are a lot of ways your ego could be manipulating the situation.

    In my case, I didn’t find any evidence of a subconscious ulterior motive. However, what I did find was that I had developed a lot of negative emotions around the whole situation.

    I was frustrated with Jack for making the same error over and over and over again. I was angry with Jack for constantly disregarding my advice—my advice… and that is where my ego started showing through.

    I was furious with his friends and family for allowing and even encouraging the situation to continue and tired of seemingly being the lone voice of care, concern, and sanity. If I was at a more evolved state, that negativity would not have arisen, so that’s probably something I should work on myself. But that was the best I could do at that time.

    Help can never come from a place of anger, any more than it can frustration, resentment, or greed. Negative emotions are part of life, but acting on them pollutes the world with that negativity. I realized that my efforts to “help” were becoming increasingly hostile in nature, and at that point nothing I would do was likely to be successful, because it was no longer coming from a place of love.

    Moreover, negativity transfers, as life is not compartmentalized. My anger, frustration, and other negative emotions were surely spilling over into other facets of my life—my work, friendships, and causal interactions. At that point, even if I was still in a position to help Jack, I’m not sure if it would have been a net positive for the world if, while doing that, I was not honoring the other people and responsibilities in my life.

    2. Your help is causing the other person to stagnate.

    Jack, as I mentioned, normally seemed to brighten a bit after each of our little talks. He would come away feeling more determined, agreeing with my analysis, and sure he was going to do something about it. Walking away from each of those interactions, his back seemed a little straighter and his head held higher. And yet, nothing changed in the situation.

    However, that’s normal with intractable problems and deep-seated behavioral patterns—they’re difficult to change! I realized that my help was not merely failing to have a positive impact, it was making things worse.

    It became clear that each time Jack spoke to me, he mentally tagged that as “doing something.” He felt better that he’d talked through the issues, apparently made some decisions, and probably because he got a lot off his chest—all healthy things. Yet, in his mind, that represented action and progress. When he spoke to me after the fact about what concrete decisions and steps he’d taken, he would offer up our last talk as an example.

    In this way, our talks became like a drug—a little pick-me-up that provided a brief high but did nothing to actually move Jack forward.

    Our talks were counter-productive in this way because they made him feel better, when in fact it is discomfort that typically spurs people to take difficult action. Our talks made him feel more comfortable, when what he needed was to feel less comfortable with the situation. The result was that Jack was avoiding taking the positive steps he needed, such as seeking professional help.

    3. You start role playing “savior” and “person in distress.”

    Any truly close relationship with someone must be authentic. It doesn’t involve role-playing or people doing what they’re “supposed to do” just because it’s something they’re “supposed to do.” It is an exchange, a give-and-take, an open dialogue, and a two-way street.

    Surely, in a long-term relationship, there will inevitably be periods in which one party is the needy one and the other is the helper. Yet, when those roles calcify into giver and taker, and every interaction is one of helping and being helped, that’s no longer a friendship—it’s a co-dependence.

    In my case, Jack had become stagnant. He was not moving forward. If ever he was looking for just some social interaction or “chill time,” he would call Henry or one of his other friends, and this often involved substance abuse. My role just became the helper and advisor, and in truth, our “sessions” had just morphed into pick-me-ups for Jack, so it was no longer even helpful for him.

    So, our relationship became boxed in this way with no clear way forward. Jack got fulfilment of his complex and unhealthy emotional needs from Henry, he got his social needs fulfilled by his enabling friends, and he got his help from me. We all had our parts to play, and indeed the other parties in his life encouraged this system to continue by enabling his behavior.

    The only way I saw to break the mold was for me to change the dynamic, and so I did.

    Not surprisingly, after Henry left the picture, Jack stopped calling for help. He didn’t notice that I wasn’t at his birthday party because I was out of the country, but then again, he didn’t even know that I was out of the country. He hadn’t needed help for a few weeks, so the calls stopped. as my role was temporarily written out of the script… until his next toxic relationship, when he’ll need to find a new helper.

    None of this was easy for me, and it didn’t feel good or natural. I am not one to turn my back on anyone in need, especially not a friend. But I learned and came to accept that I can’t do everything and should not take responsibility to fix what is beyond my ability.

    I really wish the best for Jack, and it would be nice to one day re-establish a relationship, but I needed to create distance in order to restore my own well-being, break the co-dependence that had developed, and banish the helper/person in distress roles that had hardened. In this way, I could be my best self, which ultimately is what’s most helpful to the world.

  • How to Spot Abusive People and Stop Getting into Toxic Relationships

    How to Spot Abusive People and Stop Getting into Toxic Relationships

    “No one can make you feel inferior without your consent.” ~Eleanor Roosevelt

    When it comes to dating, I have always been drawn to people who made me work for their love and validation. Despite the fact that I, like anyone else, wish to be with somebody that loves and supports me, I have always somehow managed to attract the opposite.

    My relationship history has been fraught with rejection, feeling unworthy, and trying harder to win love and approval. Every time I felt criticized or undervalued, I would look inward and ask myself what I could do to make my partner love me more. I always felt as if it was my fault, and when in doubt, I would blame myself.

    I’m an overthinker and would spend a lot of time in self-reflection. I came to understand that the trauma I had experienced as a child played a large part in my relationship choices.

    Experiencing trauma as a young child leaves a faulty wiring imprint on your nervous system. Instead of developing a secure attachment, the trauma/abuse/neglect causes the brain to develop differently.

    I grew up with very little love and affection and never felt valued by my parents.

    Children who grow up without consistent care and love learn to cope in various ways. They become hypervigilant of people’s moods around them (so that they can stay out of the way of an angry/moody parent, for example), and they can also learn to disassociate from their feelings because they cannot escape the situation.

    Trauma as a child often leads to an anxious attachment style or an ambivalent attachment style, and this affects adult attachment styles too.

    I know for sure that I have an anxious attachment style, and I also have low self-belief and self-confidence. This makes me a prime target for toxic partners such as narcissists or other abusive individuals.

    It is commonly known that narcissistic types attract co-dependent, insecure types. The root cause of co-dependency is the fear of being abandoned. Co-dependents work hard in relationships to avoid the threat of abandonment. Toxic people, however, don’t respond to more love and attention; it just fuels their abuse.

    I knew I needed to break this pattern, or I would never be happy in love. I am now quite adept at recognizing the signs of a toxic person.

    Here are the common signs that you’re in a toxic relationship:

    They tend to lack empathy (although they know how to fake it for at least the first three to six months) and the world revolves around them, not you.

    Of course, people on the autistic spectrum can seem to lack empathy, so this isn’t a guaranteed science, but it is still a sign to consider. My ex found it virtually impossible to put himself in my shoes. He would sometimes say the right things, but his words never really came from the heart.

    My ex abandoned me at Heathrow airport because there was an unexpected issue with my passport. Instead of considering how I might feel, he swore loudly and kicked the baggage around and then said he had to go without me because he didn’t want his birthday ruined.

    We had planned to fly via Singapore to Sydney. I should have known then that this was the start of many awful episodes to come. Thankfully, I joined him twenty-four hours later after hastily getting a new passport issued, but he dumped me (for the first time) four weeks later.

    They will always be at the center of everything they do, and your needs will be unimportant.

    Their time and needs take priority over yours. Relationships are all about compromise and consideration for each other. When the give-get ratio is imbalanced it is often a sign that the relationship will not be equal.

    If you confront them about this one-sided dynamic, they will either dismiss what you say, ignore you, or turn the conversation around and begin to play the victim.

    When I would confront my ex about his selfishness, he would sometimes breakdown and cry and say, “I know I am a terrible boyfriend,” but then he would soon stop crying and life would carry on as it did before.

    They will justify cheating on you and lie about it.

    A friend told me over lunch one day that she had seen my ex on Match.com for the previous nine months. I felt sick, and when I confronted him, he said that it was only ”light window shopping.” I was an idiot and I stayed. I only had myself to blame for allowing this to continue.

    Toxic individuals regard others as objects to be used. I felt replaceable and never felt fully secure in the relationship. Ironically, the one thing that attracted me to my ex in the very beginning was how keen he was on me. I love the way he chased me and the very next day after our first date he called and said, “At the risk of seeming too keen, I was wondering if you’d like to join me again tonight?”

    I was flattered, but of course this is a common sign of a toxic individual. They move in fast; they gain your affection and trust very quickly. Once you’re hooked the manipulation and the control begins.

    Another thing to look out for is subtle or overt criticism.

    My ex would comment on my posture at the dinner table, the way I spoke to friends, the way I cooked, as well as the tidiness of my house. He didn’t like it if I watched television too much and would treat me like a child. He was very controlling, but he never saw that in himself.

    Once, on a journey in the car, I saw the funny side (thank goodness I had humor to help get me through) when he said, “I am not controlling, but don’t ever use the word ‘controlling’ to describe me.”

    A friend of mine remarked at a later date, “That’s like saying ‘I don’t f#%@ing swear’.” Utter madness!

    Emotional abuse can also occur in the absence of criticism, selfishness, and controlling behavior.

    Being ignored can be just as painful. When I was stone-walled or felt neglected, it triggered my childhood trauma and transported me back to the feeling that nothing I did was good enough.

    In fact, my ex triggered me a lot and made me realize how dysfunctional the relationship was. It’s an interesting cycle that I have come across numerous times: childhood trauma and subsequent toxic adult relationships.

    This is what I have learned since finally moving on from my toxic ex-partner:

    If someone is too smooth in the very beginning and tries to fast-forward the relationship, I am wary. I would far rather be with someone who was slightly clumsy and forgetful than someone who is super slick.

    If they lack friends, that can be a red flag.

    Again, this doesn’t happen in every situation, but it can be a sign of trouble to come. My ex-partner had very few friends. He didn’t seem to understand the value of connection and keeping in touch with people unless he needed something from them.

    Underneath all of the bravado was someone who was quite insecure and had high standards for himself. I’m not sure that he actually even really liked himself. He would act extremely confident around others and was able to charm others especially when he wanted something from them. Toxic people often boast about their achievements and seem to think they are more entitled to things than others.

    What I Have Learned from My Past Relationships

    All of my failures in relationships have taught me that the old cliché of loving yourself first is actually true. Instead of planning my life around somebody else’s, I made choices about where I wanted to be and what was important to me going forward.

    I have built a strong foundation from which to explore the world. My strong foundation is built on self-awareness of my strengths and weaknesses. I understand why I sought out toxic individuals and have worked on my self-belief and self-esteem. The inner bully (the negative voice inside) is still there trying to tell me what I can’t do and why I need to be fearful on my own but I’m learning to tune it out.

    I have made more time for people and experiences that uplift and inspire me as well as focusing on inspirational podcasts and videos. What you focus on becomes your reality, and it ultimately affects your quality of life. I’ve become less accommodating to people who make me feel bad about myself.

    Feeling bad about myself is familiar, and I am convinced that previous childhood trauma altered my way of thinking and behaving, and over time it became a habit. The good news is that habits can be changed. We can’t change the past, but we can certainly update our beliefs about what happened and how we wish to see ourselves now.

    When you like and value yourself you will be far less likely to take abuse from others. You will also be more inclined to have healthy boundaries and ensure that there are consequences for those that violate them.

    Know what you will and won’t accept from others and let others know when they have overstepped the mark. If they are decent, they will be upset that they have hurt you and will make an effort to consider your needs. If, however, they dismiss your needs and feelings, that should tell you all you need to know.

  • Hurt by Negative People? How to Stop Taking Things Personally

    Hurt by Negative People? How to Stop Taking Things Personally

    “Some people are in such utter darkness that they will burn you just to see a light. Try not to take it personally.” ~Kamand Kojouri

    The saying goes that money makes the world go round, but of course that’s not true.

    It’s our relationships.

    How we relate to other people and how they relate to us keeps our world turning. When things go well, all’s right with our world. When things go badly, it can feel as though our world has ground to a halt.

    This is exactly how I felt whenever I had a difficult experience with a loved one or friend.

    Whenever they lashed out at me for no real reason, it felt as if I couldn’t move on again until their negativity or bad temper had blown over. Until that happened, I replayed the scenarios in my mind, trying to work out where I was to blame for their behavior, and feeling awful in the meantime.

    That’s why our relationships will always be the most important thing in our lives—they have such a strong impact on us, both good and bad.

    That is also why it serves us well to try to have the best possible relationship with others, as well as ourselves. That includes improving the connections we have with the difficult and less-than-positive people in our lives and strengthening our boundaries in the process.

    We probably all have several negative people in our lives—those who criticize, complain, belittle us and other people, and say or do cruel things. They can be the closest to us, people we have known all our lives, and that makes their negativity harder to escape and endure.

    I had a family member who was very negative about pretty much everything. Spending time in their company was usually a draining and disheartening experience due to their complaining and sniping comments.

    This person made it very clear whenever I met them that they had little time or affection for me, which of course made family get-togethers less than enjoyable.

    I was also puzzled as to why they were like that: we’d never argued, and I had never, to my knowledge, done or said anything mean to them. Yet, they still acted in a negative way toward me, especially if I mentioned affirmative life experiences such as a great holiday or a new exciting project.

    Unsurprisingly, I responded to their negativity with a sense of apprehension, frustration, and confusion, which stopped me from enjoying the company of my other relatives. It also made me wary about fully expressing myself or talking about my life. And my uneasiness undoubtedly made the atmosphere between my family member and me even more negative.

    We all Have Emotional Scars from the Past

    I eventually recognized that I was hurt by my relative’s treatment in large part because I took it personally and allowed it to affect my self-image and self-esteem—as if I somehow deserved it. Then I realized something that changed everything for me.

    We all have a self-image shaped in large part by other people. Family, friends, and partners, who’ve likely scarred us through anger, resentment, jealousy, judgment, neglect, or even outright abuse. And this affects how we show up in the world.

    Everyone, including the people who have wronged you or been negative toward you in some way, has scars from their past too.

    Maybe your critical mother doesn’t know any better because her mother was critical. Maybe your absent father never knew his father either. Maybe your backstabbing friend was jealous of you for reasons only known to them. Perhaps your cheating partner had abusive parents, and your partner sabotages relationships because they don’t believe anyone can love them.

    Each and every one of us carries around our scars, going out into the world to meet other people who have scars, and when we connect, these combined scars can sometimes tear open.

    We all See Ourselves Through Others’ Eyes

    We all tend to see ourselves through our loved ones’ eyes—starting with our parents when we’re young—because we assume their perceptions of us are accurate and blame ourselves if they’re not flattering. Our self-image can alter based on their comments, emotions, and actions—positive and negative.

    This is a classic case of our relationships shaping our sense of self, an ongoing shaping that begins even before we can fully understand the meanings of what other people say or do to us.

    We are each the result of our experiences within our multiple relationships and interactions. How other people relate to us affects our image of ourselves, but that doesn’t mean we are helpless in the face of other people’s behavior toward us.

    We may not have had much of a choice as a child, but it’s a different matter once we’re adults. With awareness, we’re now able to protect ourselves far better from others’ negativity toward us and set necessary boundaries.

    Learning to Connect in a Different Way

    If you’re dealing with a negative or painful relationship that leaves you feeling bad about yourself, you can of course choose to distance yourself from the person and limit contact. Sometimes, however, this isn’t possible, so you have to learn how to connect in a different way while safeguarding yourself from their negative impact on you.

    I decided I had to respond differently to my family member and their negativity for the sake of my well-being. I began to look beyond their behavior and actions, and in doing so I started to piece together an idea of what might be the real cause of their pain and unhappiness.

    I recalled they had often moaned about how much they hated their job, how they disliked the town they lived in and their neighbors, and they also often complained of tiredness and physical aches and pains.

    I began to see that this person’s negativity—even if it was aimed at me, maybe due to their feelings of envy—wasn’t really about me. They were unhappy with their life in general. Negative people are often unhappy on many levels.

    It also helped me to remember we all have emotional scars, as mentioned before. When you approach people from a place of understanding, compassion, and empathy, you no longer see them as cheats, liars, betrayers, or “bad” people out to get you—even though they might cheat, lie, or betray you. You instead begin to see beyond their behavior and recognize that they’re in pain.

    When you do that a lot of their power over you starts to fade. You begin to see them as vulnerable, like everyone else. You start to realize that their negative actions toward you reflect far more on them than they do on you.

    People often hurt each other because of their own deep pain and because they don’t know any other way to act. This is often a painful lesson to learn.

    But when you finally grasp this difficult truth, you become more accepting of what happened, more forgiving, and ready to let go and move on. You realize you do not need to take on their negativity, brood about it, or feel you are the cause of it.

    That doesn’t mean you have to condone or accept mistreatment. And that’s not to say people’s negativity toward you won’t bother or hurt you ever again, but the effect won’t be so intense. You’ll realize that the situation isn’t really about you at all. Any pain they try to inflict on you is simply a reflection of what they feel inside; it no longer feels so personal.

    When I stopped taking my relative’s negativity personally, I was able to interact with them in a different way. I was much more relaxed in their company and able to enjoy family gatherings much more.

    When you stop taking other people’s negativity personally, you cease to be so susceptible to creating your self-image through their eyes. In fact, you start to focus far more on how you view them.

    Then you’re also free to focus less on their negativity and bad behavior and more on how you respond to it. That might mean setting boundaries and limiting your contact with them, and that’s okay. Sometimes you have to understand and empathize from afar to take good care of yourself.

    We’re All in the Same “Life” Boat

    Essentially, we’re all in the same “life” boat, bobbing up and down on the vast ocean of existence.

    We are all fallible. We all inflict hurt on others, intentionally and unintentionally.

    We all experience negative situations and inevitable suffering, and we simply have to accept this. Without pain and suffering we might not value joy or experience spiritual growth. If we never experienced adversity, we might not appreciate our strength.

    And without negative people we might not be truly grateful for or cherish the loving, supportive people we have in our lives.

  • What Happened When I Stopped Drinking Alcohol Every Night

    What Happened When I Stopped Drinking Alcohol Every Night

    “First you take a drink, then the drink takes a drink, then the drink takes you.” ~F. Scott Fitzgerald

    I love Sophia Loren. There’s a picture of her in my home looking eternally youthful and refreshed. From what I’ve been told, it’s due to her nine to ten hours of sleep each night.

    When I look at this picture, I see someone who revels in the delights of life. Food, laughter, sex, work, motherhood, and self-care. Not long ago I stared at that picture thinking, “How could I admire someone so much and live my life in such a different way from hers?”

    Have you heard of the halo effect? It’s when you do the things you know are right for your body, mind, and spirit, and in doing so you begin to exude this powerfully beautiful and enticing energy others can’t get enough of. I now realize my relationship with the daily habit of alcohol was actually diminishing the glow of my halo. It was essentially stealing my joy, time, money, looks, well-being, and especially my slumber.

    Who knew that for so long my beauty sleep was being hijacked by alcohol!

    Puffy face, dark circles, dry mouth, red eyes, weight gain, and not to mention the headache, elevated heartbeat, anxiety… these are just a few of the lovely side effects I experienced with overindulging in the bottle.

    In trying to reduce overwhelm, I inadvertently was fueling it through interrupted sleep and the fuzzy feeling the following day. 

    Do I think alcohol is bad or that drinking is off-limits? No.

    I do know for myself that the daily two, sometimes three, glasses of wine took a toll. It stole any type of focus and motivation the next day to follow through on all the things I said I would accomplish the night before, basking in the embrace of my main squeeze, Mr. P (Pinot Noir, that is.)

    My relationship with alcohol was stealing my ability to step into the life I claimed to desire.

    I wanted to release weight.

    I wanted to make more money.

    I wanted to write my book.

    Until I released the hold Mr. P had on me, I knew deep down I would never come close to achieving any of those dreams.

    Every morning I wake up and ask myself three things:

    1. How do I want to feel today?
    2. What is one thing I can do to love myself today?
    3. What can I give to others today?

    My answer to #2 was often…

    “Drink more water.”

    “Start weight training.”

    “Let go of gluten.”

    The truth was the one true voice within was quietly and patiently saying day after day, “Take a break from alcohol.”

    I just wasn’t ready to listen.

    A phone call eventually prompted an experiment in courage.

    For ninety days I promised a friend I would join her on an alcohol reset. After I hung up that fateful Sunday, I went to the calendar to mark the ninetieth day. Immediately fear crept in with thoughts like “You’ve tried this before, and it didn’t work” and “You won’t even make it through tonight.”

    Fortunately, in that moment, something other than myself took over. It was as if I was whisked into something beyond my own comprehension, because the next 120 days flew by. In fact, after day twenty-one I stopped counting. I no longer was ticking off the calendar to when I could finally have a drink. Why? Probably because I knew in my heart the steady drip of wine each night was simply not serving me, my purpose, my body, or my pocketbook.

    Why was this time different? Because I looked at it as something I “got” to do rather than “had” to do. I viewed it as a gift rather than a cleanse.

    What is on the other side of a toxic relationship with alcohol? More than I could imagine. Every morning I wake up and think, “I am so lucky.” It’s as though I’ve captured more time in my day, and each moment holds a sense of sacredness.

    I’ve seen sunrises by candlelight, baked banana bread before bed, and gotten more done by 8am than I ever did after 5pm.

    I’ve finished a Netflix show without falling asleep… and actually remembered what I watched.

    I’ve released twenty pounds.

    I wake up hydrated.

    My skin seems to have reversed in time a la Benjamin Button.

    The list goes on and on.

    The other day my mother gave me a compliment that made me cry… in a good way.

    She said, “You know, it’s like your skin, your hair… you look like you used to look when you were younger.”

    For so long I was using wine to push down the unwanted feelings of anxiety and overwhelm. While I thought I was “taking the edge off,” I was actually making myself edgy!

    These days, I plan my fun based on how I want to feel the next morning. What I’ve discovered is that taking a break from happy hour can literally transform not only the other twenty-four hours of your day but your life as well.

    When you have enough energy and vitality to embrace the day, you start to find little miracles everywhere in the form of simple pleasures, a pleasant conversation with a friend, or a moment that might have sent you into a tailspin… but now you breathe through it with patience and grace.

    People often ask me, “Do you ever have a glass of wine… ever?”

    Probably every two weeks or so if I am being social (and socially distancing) with family or friends. Do I enjoy it? Yes and no. In fact, the few times I have had a glass or two, it no longer held any energy for me. It’s now a “take it or leave it” kind of thing.

    In fact, it’s as if moderation moves you toward abstinence.

    Why? Because I am no longer willing to sacrifice how good I feel the next morning for alcohol.

    I also revel in the reduction of anxiety! Why would I want to go back to something that was creating the exact experience that was causing me to emotionally suffer?

    Yes, there are people who can drink daily and function fine, and there are those who can’t drink at all. And then there are people like me who know alcohol isn’t the kind of friend they want to hang out with every day but perhaps in very small doses every so often.

    Drinking is marketed as sexy, elegant, and unifying.

    Is slurring your words sexy? Is stumbling out of a restaurant elegant? Is not remembering the conversation you had with a friend unifying?

    The reality for me was alcohol made me feel drained, grumpy, and even a wee bit nauseous. How you feel is creating your day and, in essence, your life. So, if you feel cluttered and haphazard waking up, you are creating a cluttered and haphazard day. 

    I used to wake up and run to the kitchen. Waiting for me was the one thing that would decide if I needed to beat myself up or pat myself on the back. Like the scale, the opened bottle of wine oftentimes determined if I was “good” or “bad” the previous day.

    Only one-fourth of the bottle left? Bad girl!

    Three-quarters left? Good girl!

    So much time, energy, and thinking put into the act of drinking!

    In the end, bedtime is the best of all.

    Four hours of alcohol-free sleep is WAY more rejuvenating than nine hours of alcohol-infused sleep. Waking up feeling your body buzzing (in a good way!) is the best high of all.

    If your inner voice is asking for a break, maybe it’s time to listen.

    Sweet dreams.

  • How Being in a Toxic Relationship Changed My Life for the Better

    How Being in a Toxic Relationship Changed My Life for the Better

    “Getting over a painful experience is much like crossing monkey bars.  You have to let go at some point in order to move forward.” ~C.S. Lewis

    My ex and I split up about five years ago. We had been married for seventeen years, and after that long, I figured we were home free, as far as lasting marriages go. Needless to say, when it happened, I was devastated. Over all those years of being a couple, I had lost a big part of myself. Without that relationship, who was I anymore?

    I was terrified of being alone, which led me to start exploring the dating world much too soon.

    I dated a really nice guy that I just wasn’t into and we became friends. I dated a guy (once) that freaked me out and taught me never to get in a car with a stranger. I dated a guy that ghosted me. Finally, I dated a guy that I thought was my soul mate. He nearly ruined my life.

    When I met him, I wasn’t all that into him. He seemed too quiet for me, but he was cute and after a few dates, I started to really like him. We were both mid-divorce, and we had a lot in common. We could talk for hours. He was thoughtful and offered his time and affection freely.

    After a couple months, he changed. He became very quiet and contemplative, and the conversation waned. He was always lacking in energy and never wanted to go out and do anything fun, which was totally the opposite of me. In a healthier mental state, maybe I would have seen the red flags.

    We connected on a deeper level though, when he did talk. We were both in search of meaning in our lives. We were both trying to make sense of it all. I felt like we had this deep bond unlike anything I had experienced in a partner before. We both struggled with depression and with finding our places in this new life after divorce.   

    I needed someone to fill the hole that my ex-husband had left, and I wanted connection so badly. People told me I had to learn to be alone and get to know myself again first, but I didn’t want to hear that. The only thing I wanted was to feel whole again, and at the time whole meant being with someone. 

    As he grew distant, I tried harder and harder to get attention and affection from him. And, of course, the more I tried to get the affection, love, and attention I so desperately wanted, the more he pulled away.

    I felt like I was drowning in a rushing river, trying desperately to grasp onto something—anything—that would help me fill the void left by my failed marriage. I wanted him to treat me like he loved and cared for me, and he was just not willing to do that, or maybe he just wasn’t capable.

    The constant fishing for him to say the words I wanted to hear and to make me feel how I wanted to feel was exhausting and unbearably frustrating. I couldn’t understand how someone could be so selfish when I was giving so much.

    We’d been together for about five or six months when he started having debilitating anxiety accompanied by suicidal thoughts. One night, when he was afraid to be alone, I rearranged my schedule with my kids so I could stay with him to make sure he was okay. He ended up feeling like he needed hospitalization to stay safe.

    I stayed by his side the entire time, and when he was admitted to the inpatient program, I visited him every day, without fail. I rearranged my days so I could be there for him. I was practically existing to be needed by him.

    As he was preparing to be released from inpatient, he was afraid to be alone in case his anxiety worsened and he started having suicidal thoughts again. He asked if he could stay with me, which was tricky since I have two kids who were going through this difficult time of divorce as well. It wasn’t ideal, but in my state of needing to be needed, I was ready to help him however I could—whatever it took.

    His parents ended up coming to stay with him, so that measure wasn’t necessary, but it also meant he didn’t need me anymore.

    All of his attention was focused inward and on getting better, and not at all toward me or showing any appreciation for the sacrifices I was making for him. Let’s be clear—this is how it should have been, and I know that he absolutely needed to take care of himself, but it made me crazy.

    I wanted him to love me like I (thought) I loved him. I just couldn’t see that he was not in a place where he could really love anyone. That hole I was trying to fill just kept getting wider and deeper.

    When he was hospitalized, it almost normalized the experience for me. He got a break from life for a few days and I basically dropped my life to save his.

    Maybe he’d do the same thing for me, and maybe he’d finally give me the attention I craved. Maybe, just maybe, I could start to fill in that big hole in my heart. This was, of course, a subconscious line of thinking at the time, but in hindsight, I can see that I was grasping for any shred of validation from him that I was worthy of his love. 

    I was severely depressed. I had thrown myself so hard into this relationship, and I wasn’t getting anything back. I ended up being hospitalized too because of the depression, pain, and hopelessness I was feeling.

    He spent a little time being supportive, but he didn’t drop everything to be there for me like I did when he needed me. He only came and visited me once.

    I had never felt so alone in my life.

    The relationship had grown to be so dysfunctional that I had lost any shred of sanity that I had left. Looking back, it feels a little embarrassing that I stayed in this place when everyone I knew told me to get out. I wanted the relationship to work—at any cost.

    He broke up with me right before Christmas that year, which was also completely devastating to me.  I didn’t take it well, and I hated him for it.

    To make matters worse, in the new year, he texted me to tell me that he missed me. We started hanging out again and maintained a “friends with benefits” kind of relationship. How dumb could I be?? 

    Again, I was there whenever he needed me, at great cost to my own well-being. I held on to this shred of hope that maybe things would work out. Somehow, someday.

    His depression and anxiety eventually flared up again, and he took some time to go to North Carolina to stay with his parents for a month while he attended a partial hospitalization program.

    We stayed in contact the whole time, and toward the end of his stay there, he talked about how he was starting to feel like we should get back together. I was still in heart hole-filling mode, so in my mind, it was like things were finally coming together—this was why I had stuck it out so long, after all, right?

    When he came home from North Carolina, we didn’t really talk about “being back together,” but it sure felt that way. It finally felt nice—like I had wished for, for so long.

    And then one day, everything changed.

    I invited some friends over for my birthday, and he was supposed to help me with the food, but he was late. Really late. I tried calling him multiple times with no answer. As I hung out with my friends and tried to make fun conversation and pretend nothing was wrong, I felt hurt, unimportant, unworthy, and small. When he finally did show up, something was odd about him. When he left that night, I went to kiss him, it felt forced and awkward.

    Later that week, when I pressed him on it, he told me he was on a date with the woman he knew would be his future wife.

    After one date we were over. Like a switch flipped.

    After one date, he was exclusively dating another woman whom he would marry someday, and he didn’t even apologize, explain, or get how crappy all of it was. 

    I was so angry, but I was also blindsided, hurt, and I felt like an idiot. I had given so much of myself for him, and he treated me terribly and without care. The rest of the details aren’t necessarily important, but in the end, I told him to f* off and that I didn’t ever want to see or talk to him again.

    All of my hurt was finally starting to turn into something useful—anger and self-respect.

    I think I needed anger to leave that relationship behind and realize how much better off I was going to be without him.

    I didn’t really start to heal from the pain of my divorce until after this moment, and I didn’t really date for a while after that.

    I reconnected with friends I saw much less of when I was dating him. I reconnected with myself. I learned how to be alone, and how to appreciate that time.

    I learned what I want and need in a relationship.

    Most of all though, I learned that I am worthy of love and I deserve someone who wants to give back. I learned that I shouldn’t settle for less than someone that wants to be an equal partner in my life.

    Despite how horrible that time was, I am so grateful for the experience because of  how much I learned about myself and grew during that time.   

    We were just two people who were struggling with where we were in life. We weren’t right for each other, but we were put in each other’s path to teach each other something.

    He ended up getting married to the woman he was with when he was late to my birthday party, and I am so thankful that she ended up as his wife and not me.

    I like to believe that he really is a good person that was just going through a tough time when he met me. I do wish him the best. We all deserve that, right? I could even go so far as to thank him for the things he helped me learn.

    The lessons that came out of this very painful experience are many, and I want to summarize them so that you, too, can learn from my mistakes. I hope you find these helpful.

    You Are Absolutely Worthy of All the Love

    You deserve the world, even if you have to give it to yourself. It doesn’t matter who you are, you deserve love. Yes, you. And if you are with someone who doesn’t love you like you deserve to be loved, you should look elsewhere, or even better, within.

    Move on. For real.

    Figure Out How to Love Yourself First

    It’s been said that you can’t really love anyone until you learn to love yourself. I don’t think you can really truly accept and feel love until you learn to love yourself first, either.

    What’s more, when you learn to love yourself, you don’t need another person to fill any emotional holes. You are already whole all on your own. The love you find when you are whole is a different kind of love, and it’s beautiful.

    How do you learn to love yourself? Start by simply being with yourself. Fill the hole with your own care and attention. This will lead to respecting yourself, which in time will lead to valuing yourself.

    You Have Value as a Person

    Part of your journey in life is seeing that you are worth making the trip. It might be hard to see, but you most definitely are.

    If you are with someone that can’t see how valuable you are, you’re with the wrong person. You have unique talents. You are beautiful, and you are amazing. There is someone out there that will see it. But you have to believe it, too.

    Every Experience in Your Life Has Something to Teach You

    I bet if you look at all of the challenging experiences in your life, you can find at least one thing you learned from each. If you don’t agree with me, I can almost guarantee that you’re not trying hard enough.

    It’s through challenges that we grow. If I hadn’t had this difficult experience, it wouldn’t have led me to my current partner, who loves me and supports me more than I could have ever dreamed of. I learned so much about relationships, and myself, that I wouldn’t have otherwise learned, and who knows, I might not have been ready to meet the love of my life.

    Letting Go Can Be a Beautiful Thing

    Letting go is hard.

    We want what we want, and it takes a lot of trust to walk away from a sure thing when you don’t know what the future will hold.

    It’s hard to accept that sometimes what we want isn’t the best thing for us. But you have to trust that by letting go you’ll open up to better things.

    And sometimes the best thing for you is to simply to live without a person who isn’t good for you.

  • Healing from the Trauma of Narcissistic Abuse

    Healing from the Trauma of Narcissistic Abuse

    “Don’t blame a clown for acting like a clown. Ask yourself why you keep going to the circus.” ~Unknown

    When I first experienced narcissistic abuse as an adult, it was at a time when the term “narcissistic abuse” was not so heard of or understood.

    I had met a handsome, intelligent, charismatic, and charming man, and as is typical in abusive relationships, had been completely overwhelmed by the intensity and ‘love’-overload of the early stages.

    Before I could catch my breath, though, the nitpicking started, and so did the heated arguments, the jealousy, the cutting contact, and disappearing for days on end—shortly followed by dramatic make-ups, apologies, gifts, and promises.

    And so had begun the emotional roller coaster ride that is dating a narcissist.

    Many months later, I found myself becoming a different person. I was stressed, anxious, paranoid, increasingly isolated, and cranky. I was totally lost and felt like nobody understood. Friends couldn’t understand why we couldn’t just end things. We were hooked in a destructive bond.

    At the worst points, being caught in a toxic relationship feels utterly maddening. After months of relationship highs and lows, of it being on and off, the gaslighting, accusations, and coercive control, I honestly began to believe I was losing my mind.

    I was stuck trying to make sense of my experience, and the logical part of my mind was desperately searching for answers to so many questions:

    Why did he cheat?
    What was so wrong with me?
    Why did he lie?
    What were lies, and what was the truth?
    Was any of it real?
    Did he ever really say the things he said?
    Was he even capable of love?
    How could things have been different?
    What else could or should I have done?

    These are some of the same questions I hear my clients ask now when they come to me for support in healing from narcissistic abuse.

    The Journey of Healing

    My own recovery started one particularly frantic night. I was incredibly upset and desperate to make sense of what was going on. Searching online, I happened to come across information about sociopaths and narcissists and this particular kind of psychological abuse.

    This was a pivotal moment. I had never heard anybody use the term “narcissistic abuse,” and at that time (this was many years ago), there was hardly any information around about it. But I knew, the moment I read this, that this was it. It shifted my whole perspective. It was shocking and confusing, although overall, an unbelievable relief. I realized this was a ‘thing’ and that, for the first time, other people understood. More importantly, there was a way out.

    Reading more about psychological abuse, I arrived at my first key point in healing:

    I Realized It’s Not Me—I’m Not Crazy!

    Toxic relationships will leave you feeling like you are mad. Often abusive partners will reinforce this by never taking responsibility and constantly telling you in various ways that it is your fault or your issues.

    My narcissistic partner would criticize and undermine me in all sorts of strange and subtle ways, including judgments or ‘suggestions.’ He would often communicate in ways that would leave me doubting or questioning myself. As is the power of being with a narcissist, at the time, I was eager to please and impress.

    If I ever pulled him up on any of the criticisms, he accused me of being negative, told me he was trying to support my personal growth, that I was being sensitive, paranoid, that I was over-reacting, or that I had issues. This kind of abuse in itself is maddening. I realized that all of what I had been feeling was in itself the symptom of being in an emotionally abusive relationship.

    I was not and am not mad, but I was in a mad relationship. I found as I cut contact and removed myself from the toxic dynamic that my sense of sanity swiftly returned. This is something that many sufferers I work with now also experience. You are not crazy, but if you are in an abusive relationship, you are in a relationship dynamic that will leave you feeling like you are.

    Letting Go of the Need to Understand and Know

    It’s our mind’s natural tendency to want to make sense of our experience; however, with narcissism and narcissistic behavior, there is no sense. You can’t apply logic to illogical actions. I created a lot of distress for myself in the early part of my recovery by desperately clinging onto the fantasy that I somehow could understand all the whats and whys.

    Being able to let go of this need to know is a big step in recovery. This was not easy at the time, but I managed this by practicing mindfulness and learning to recognize when my thoughts or attention would drift to the narcissist or on trying to work out the answers or understand the non-existent logic.

    As I became aware of my thoughts drifting to such a futile task, I would then try and tune into my feelings in that moment and ask myself, “How am I feeling right now?”

    I’d mentally label the emotion and any physical sensations that went along with it.

    Then, knowing more clearly how I was feeling (sad, angry, etc.), I would ask myself “What do I need? What can I do for myself right now that is a loving and supportive thing to do?”

    Sometimes this would be to allow myself to cry, punch a pillow, reach out to a friend, or go and treat myself to something nice—to practice self-care. It was a step-by-step process to find ways in which I could gently feel my feelings and attend to my own needs. This also included the feelings I had about not having answers and accepting that maybe I never will. You can gently let go with this refocus and self-care. Make a choice about what may be harmful or helpful to your healing and recovery.

    Considering My Own Narcissism

    I laugh now that my breakup lasted longer than the actual relationship did! The toxic dynamic was addictive and really hard to let go of from both sides.

    An empath will care, forgive, understand, and put a narcissist’s needs before their own. A narcissist will crave the attention, contact, and power. It becomes a dance.

    Narcissists tend to have a disorganized attachment style. Relationships will be push and pull, on and off, up and down. Being in a relationship with a narcissist is a lot like being on an emotional roller coaster ride. It’s exhilarating and draining, but if you stay on, going round and round for long enough, you will get sick!

    Because of the attachment style, the moment a narcissist senses you are pulling away, they will instinctively aim to pull you back in again, throwing all sorts of bait in order to hook you back.

    I was hooked back again and again by broken promises and wanting to believe the fantasy of how things could be.

    I was also hooked by believing that somehow, I could be the one to change him, to make him see, to help him love and feel loved, to make things different, to help him be the person I hoped and believed he could be.

    Truth be told, I wanted to be the one to capture and hold his attention and interest. However, such are the demands of narcissistic supply that it’s impossible that there can ever be one person forever.

    Quite frankly, I had to recognize the narcissism in this. To see the narcissistic fantasy in my idea about somehow possessing some magical powers to help him heal and change. I can’t. In fact, nobody can.

    A narcissist’s healing and actions are their responsibility only—nobody else’s.

    Believing on some level you can be ‘the one’ to change a narcissist is narcissistic to some extent in itself. This doesn’t mean somebody who has this hope has narcissistic personality disorder! It’s just helpful to recognize the ill-placed hope and fantasy.

    Narcissism is one of the most difficult clinical presentations for highly experienced specialists to treat. You do not have the ability or power to change or help an abuser. More to the point, why would you want to?

    Let Go of Fantasy Thinking and Ground Yourself in Reality

    Many people who’ve experienced narcissistic abuse become trapped in an elusive fantasy. Fantasy thinking is clinging onto the hope of how you believe things could be, not how they actually are.

    One of the most confusing things I experienced when in a relationship with a narcissist was distinguishing the difference between fantasy and reality. With this there can be a discrepancy between body and mind. For example, my ex constantly told me that he was being supportive. However, I didn’t feel supported.

    Like in many abusive relationships, the words and the actions do not match. Nobody can really mean the words “I love you” and be violent, critical, or abusive at the same time.

    In recovery, it is vital to distinguish between the hope and fantasy of how things could be and the reality of how things actually are. I often hear people describe the longing for things to be like they were “in the beginning.”

    The start of an abusive relationship can be incredibly intense and powerful. This is the time the manipulator will ‘love-bomb,’ and it can feel exhilarating, romantic, powerful, and highly addictive.

    Intensity is not the same as intimacy, though. Real intimacy takes time and is balanced. Intensity can give you a high that you continue to crave.

    If you suspect you are in an unhealthy relationship, it’s important to take an honest and objective inventory of the current reality, not your ideal of how things were or could be. Right now, how safe and secure do you feel? Currently, what are the actions of your partner or ex?

    It can be helpful to take pen to paper and list the current behaviors or circumstances to help regain some more realistic perspective. Perhaps asking friends or family their view too.

    Take Responsibility

    One of the things I feel most grateful about from my experience of narcissistic abuse is that I really had to learn to take complete responsibility for myself. I had to become fully responsible for myself and my actions: my recovery, my efforts, my self-care, my finances, my health, my well-being, my life… everything.

    Something I see many people do while in a toxic relationship, and even following the end of one, is to become stuck with focusing their efforts and attentions on the narcissist. Over-concerning themselves with what they are now doing, or not doing, or still trying to get them to see things another way, or holding out for an apology from them, or hoping they will change or fulfill all their promises, and so on.

    A particular hook I often hear about in my work now is the abusive partner dangling a ‘carrot on a stick’ when their partner attempts to end the relationship. This can be highly abusive as they step up the promises of providing you with whatever it is they know you wish for, be it proper commitment, a family, a secure home situation, financial purchases, or more.

    I have honestly yet to hear an account of when any of these promises have been honored. Instead, partners are left wasting months and years, even decades, holding on to the fantasy and hope that a partner will provide them with what they need.

    I think it’s important to recognize the bigger perspective. If there are things you want in life, then you take complete responsibility for making them happen.

    Remember, too much focus on the narcissist is a big part of the problem in the first place!

    Healing comes with returning your focus to yourself, acknowledging your own feelings and emotional experience, recognizing your own wants and needs, and gently attending to those yourself.

    I truly believe that healthy relationships begin with the one we have with ourselves. That includes taking full responsibility for all aspects of ourselves and our lives.

    Gratitude

    When I was in the midst of the insanity of narcissistic abuse, I felt like I was in a living hell! At the time, I absolutely would never have entertained the concept of applying gratitude to the experience! Now, though, many years later, I can truly say I am deeply grateful for the experience.

    When I became aware of this particular kind of psychological and emotional abuse, the sheer depths of the pain I was experiencing propelled me to embark on a deep journey of exploration, healing, and recovery and vast personal growth, which I am now eternally grateful for.

    I actively practiced writing about what I could be grateful for in each part of the experience, and—as difficult as that was at the time—it helped to assist my healing.

    I learned about narcissistic abuse. I learned how to spot the signs of both overt and covert narcissism so now I can spot this a mile off. With awareness, I have a choice.

    I had to take a good look at my part in the dynamic, my issues of codependency. I learned boundaries. I’ve learned healthy communication. I worked with a therapist and support group to feel and heal the family origins of some issues that related to why we attract or repeat unhealthy relationship patterns in the first place.

    I learned how to tune into and trust myself and my gut instinct; I always stay close to that now. I learned a huge amount about myself. I know what healthy relationships are and enjoy many of them in my life now. I’m a better, wiser, and more grateful person for going through it all.

    Don’t get me wrong, I would never want to experience it ever again! But I rest confident now that, because of a full recovery, I absolutely will never need to. I do not attract that kind of person anymore. In fact, I can be quite the narcissist repellant because I recognize the warning signs. As well as spotting the signs on the outside and recognizing the abusive actions of others, I now have clear boundaries and the self-esteem to communicate them.

    I have also worked on what needed to be healed inside of me, and for that I am grateful.

  • Family Does Not Mean…

    Family Does Not Mean…

  • Simple Truths About Toxic Mothers I Wish I Knew Growing Up

    Simple Truths About Toxic Mothers I Wish I Knew Growing Up

    “Don’t be reckless with other people’s hearts, and don’t put up with people that are reckless with yours.” ~Mary Schmich

    After Mom passed away two years ago, I returned home to take care of the remnants of her earthly life.

    Clothes and shoes, books with her notes in the margins, old cookware and medication leftovers. Tableware, sewing utensils, knitting needles and thread. And at the very end, the most private part of Mom’s life, something I’d been avoiding for as long as I could: photographs, letters, diaries, and notes. These deeply personal belongings took me on an emotional roller coaster ride a few months long.

    Sweet notes penned by my dad at age twenty-one to Mom at the hospital, where she was recovering after a complicated delivery of their only child … me. Written in his clumsy, dear handwriting, and Mom’s short replies underneath, her handwriting as neat as always.

    Letters from Mom’s ex-boyfriends, before my father’s time (why did I always assume that she didn’t have any?). And emotional messages from me, sent from a summer camp to the address I knew by heart since I was three. My letters to Mozambique, where my parents worked in the early 1980s, and postcards from my travels. A few envelopes from my son, whom Mom loved deeply, in a way she could never love me. Or so I thought.

    She kept them all.

    Seventy years of Mom’s memories written on paper she didn’t even remember she had. And even if she’d known, she wouldn’t be able to read them because of her illness.

    But the most profound emotional moment of all was still waiting to come: letters from Mom to a younger me. Letters she wrote but never sent—I will never know why. What was she afraid of?

    I read these letters with tears streaming down my cheeks like two spring creeks down the hill. The letters were imbued with love, like a forest glade with sunshine on a hot summer day. They were full of compassion I didn’t realize Mom possessed.

    She kept these letters because they were vital to her. And I know now that she loved me. Always.

    But for a significant part of my life, I wasn’t even sure that Mom wanted me. When I was little, she treated me like her property, as if she owned me—my body, my thoughts, and my feelings. When I grew older, we fought and struggled, hurting one another in an attempt to protect the scared and lonely little girl inside each of us.

    It took me decades to heal and forgive Mom. It took a debilitating illness for her to tear down the mighty walls she’d built around her soul and embrace the love that had always smouldered in her heart

    I’ve lived long enough to learn a great deal about human psychology; I even made it my profession. And I see that history repeats itself: Women like my mom pass on their family’s legacy of abuse. Why? Because they either don’t know how to change it, don’t dare to, or lack the necessary resources and support to break the pattern.

    As a result, new generations of kids grow up suffering, feeling unloved. And trauma celebrates its new victory on their account.

    But it doesn’t have to continue, because today we know so much more.

    We no longer stigmatize people with emotional problems and mental illnesses. We understand that children, too, suffer from anxiety and depression—something that in my “happy” childhood was unthinkable to suggest. We didn’t have psychologists in schools to help us make sense out of the distorted reality of our homes.

    We were alone with our pain.

    Sometimes I wish I could meet a younger me and tell her what I know today. To help her and other youth quietly suffering in their dysfunctional families to see the truth, relieve their pain, and encourage them to enjoy their lives more.

    What would I tell to a younger me if I could meet her today?

    Here it is:

    You are not alone.

    The worst memory of my childhood and young adulthood was feeling lonely. I was unable to tell anyone about my family life because mothers were believed to be made of pure gold. In fact, I even thought that my life was quite normal.

    I wish I’d known back then that not all mothers are good. Some are sick and fighting their own demons. Below the surface, they don’t love themselves, and they don’t know how to love their children. Children who suffer in silence, just like me … and just like you.

    There’s nothing wrong with you.

    For decades I felt confused when Mom told me I was the one with a problem. According to her, I couldn’t do anything right, not even remember things the way they really happened. She told me I had a “lively imagination” or even called me a “little liar” because what I remembered had never taken place. And I believed her—no wonder all of my all senses were disorganized.

    So let me tell you this: It’s not you with the problem, it’s your mother, and she’s unable to admit it. She gaslights you using toxic “amnesia” to confuse your senses and create doubt. No matter how much you try to be the best in school, cook dinner for the family, and be there to support your mom’s emotional needs, it’s not going to change her perception of you.

    Don’t bother trying to impress her. The only person you need to impress is you. Be yourself.

    You are good enough as you are.

    Do you desperately want to be loved and cherished by your mom? Do you long for her approval, like I did? Do you try your hardest, but no matter what you do, it’s never good enough?

    I have good and bad news. The bad news is that it probably will never change. And the good news is, you are good enough already, so stop working so hard trying to prove it to your mother. There’s no need.

    Protect yourself.

    I was vulnerable to Mom’s intermittent reinforcements for most of my adult life. As soon as she acted cordially, I would do anything for her. I believed she’d changed, only to be disappointed again and again.

    So when your mother suddenly becomes lovely and cheerful with you, and you feel like your life has finally turned around, remember that it hasn’t. Not for long, anyway.

    Don’t start immediately sharing your deepest secrets and feelings with her, because they will almost certainly be turned against you a few hours later. Enjoy the moment, but stay on guard.

    Don’t try to change your mom.

    I tried to reason with Mom and explain to her what her behavior was doing to me. But every time, she would feel wronged, react angrily, and start a fight. Eventually, she did change her behavior, but not until much later and at the most unexpected time ever.

    Will your mother ever change? Probably not, so don’t waste your life waiting for that. It’s your mother’s life and responsibility, not yours. Focus on improving your own behavior and live a joyful, fulfilling life of your own. This is the only chance that your mother might follow your lead.

    Worry less and appreciate your life.

    It’s okay to be happy, no matter what your mother tells you. Life isn’t meant to be 24/7 hard work and suffering in the process, as my mother sadly believed.

    There’s a place for fun and joy every day—always remember that.

    Here are my favorite activities to cope with worries and help to de-stress:

    • Keep busy doing what you love to do.
    • Stay physically active—go to the gym, take a walk or go hiking, play games outside, swim or run. Pick your favorite and start moving.
    • Play and sing a favorite song.
    • Play a musical instrument if you can.
    • Solve a puzzle.
    • Use the tapping technique, together with anti-stress and anti-worry affirmations.
    • Plan your next day.
    • Limit your presence on social media and the Internet.
    • Don’t watch the news.
    • Use your creative powers or enjoy the creations of others.

    Think for yourself.

    Growing up with difficult, critical mothers, we have trouble trusting ourselves. But trust can be learned.

    Remind yourself that you’re good enough the way you are—just as good (and as bad) as anyone else! Care less about what others might think or say. Love and trust yourself to make your own decisions. Don’t be afraid to be confident and appreciate your life.

    Have a goal and work hard to make it happen.

    Ask yourself, what do you want your life to be like five years from now? Do you want to work with animals, help people, or be a rocket scientist? Find out what you like, what makes you excited and gives you a sense of purpose.

    Then, get an education or find a job in that field, and don’t allow others to interfere with your plans. Start investing in your future.

    Distance yourself emotionally from your mother.

    Distancing yourself will protect you from feeling hurt and help you to learn more about your mom. You’ll begin to see that she projects her own insecurities, worries, and fears on you because she doesn’t know better. To be honest, she never really grew up. That little unloved, lonely girl inside her still steers her life.

    Distancing yourself helps you avoid enmeshing with your mom’s feelings and stops her from influencing yours.

    Learn to trust other people.

    Because if you don’t trust anyone, you will be lonely. Start inviting people into your life—there are many good men and women out there.

    That said, choose your friends (and partners) with care. Don’t strive to be part of the popular crowd but instead look for honesty and kindness in others. Look for someone who has the potential to genuinely care about you. A therapist may be one of these people.

    —

    Some people are lucky enough to have mature parents who know how to love their kids, and some are not. Some of us have better health, and some have more money than others. There are many things in life we can’t control or change. We have what we have, and it’s probably for a reason—after all, who would we be if we didn’t have challenges to overcome? If everything we wished for came served on a golden plate?

    We would never grow and develop as humans. We’d be living the lives of plankton forever, feeding and being eaten.

    So by definition, life is not easy or fair. And when the little girl inside me feels scared, I hug her and say, “Don’t worry so much, love. You will be alright, and your life will be full. You will turn challenges into adventures, weaknesses into strengths, and learn to find joy even in difficult times. You’re a great kid! Stay cheerful, curious and kind as you are. Take care of yourself.”

    What do you say to your inner child?

  • It’s Not “Failing” to Leave a Toxic, Abusive Marriage

    It’s Not “Failing” to Leave a Toxic, Abusive Marriage

    “Forgive yourself for not knowing better at the time. Forgive yourself for giving away your power. Forgive yourself for past behaviors. Forgive yourself for the survival patterns and traits you picked up while enduring trauma. Forgive yourself for being who you needed to be.” ~Audrey Kitching

    I have always been an extremely glass-half-full kind of person. I always see the best in everyone, and not only the best but also the unlimited beauty and potential. And my god, it’s glorious!!

    I met and fell in love with a charming man. I was on a trip to Alaska to visit a lifelong friend and met Mr. Wonderful at a gathering. He was attentive, charismatic, and made me feel like a queen. I was hooked. We were married four months later, and five months after that I had my second daughter.

    I didn’t see the red flags. Looking back, I ask myself how I could have been so naïve, so trusting, so blind. Slowly but surely, though, my world changed.

    First, it was little things, like coming out to check on me at night when I was breast pumping milk to see what “I was up to.” Then there was the name-calling and shaming if I wanted to dress up and go out with friends to a dinner. I wondered if other wives got called sluts too because they would wear a pretty shirt.

    There came a day when it became difficult to see the beauty in myself, and in him. Everything changed that day. And it never was able to return back to how it was before. The person that had vowed to love me, to cherish me, to protect me, and be there for me cut me to the core with words that will never be undone.

    “Nobody else will ever want you,” he sneered, his eyes filled with scorn and disgust. “A mother with kids from two different dads,” he chuckled to himself. “You are a slut, a whore, a sperm depository.”

    I curled up on the floor, in the fetal position, feeling as though he had stabbed me with a knife in the gut. I was sobbing, but I don’t remember hearing the sound.

    “Why are you saying this?” I gasped.

    “I read your journal,” he yelled, referring to an entry about my past lovers, as if that justified his cruelty.

    Stress does strange things to a person. I had recently broken out in painful boils on the left side of my torso and under my arms. They were excruciating. It hurt to lower my arm all the way down.

    “You are a fat, lazy, boil-infested bitch.”

    I remember at that moment shutting down. Going inward. A part of me disconnected in order to stay alive.

    Days turned into weeks. I felt myself dying inside a little more every day. I became withdrawn, and as time went on it took more and more energy to smile and pretend life was normal.

    Many friends didn’t understand. I remember them having shocked looks. “But I thought you were happily married,” one said, seemingly unable to comprehend the nightmare that had become my life.

    I gave up trying to talk about it, to explain. I felt it was my fault. Somehow I had attracted this, and perhaps somehow I could make him happy if I just did the right things and earned enough “Brownie points”—if, for example, I stayed home from social events and remained “on duty” with our baby all the time. Eventually I learned there were never Brownie points. Nothing seemed to make him pleased.

    One evening, he became angry with my older daughter, who was born blind in one eye, and called her a Cyclops. I remember wrapping one arm around my sobbing daughter while trying to bounce a baby on my hip. I was so exhausted from sleep deprivation and postpartum depression, it was all I could do to stay standing.

    I had never felt so alone, so isolated, so hopeless.

    I got the children settled to sleep, and I made a choice that night that I was finished.

    The next few days were a blur of his hateful and cruel remarks, as he knew I would not take him back; it was truly over. I knew I had to take a stand for myself, and if not me, for my children. They deserved better. I knew I did too, but I couldn’t see it at that time.

    It has been five years since we separated. I am resilient, and for that I am grateful.

    I am still an optimist, and I still see the beauty in everyone. I take a pause now, though, and I evaluate situations more carefully. My trust takes much more time to be earned now than it did eight years ago when I fell in love too fast, without knowing the real person behind the charming facade.

    Many people, including my parents, were disappointed in my failed marriage. Many sent prayers that it would be healed. For a long while, I felt like a failure.

    I have come to realize there is no shame in ‘failing’ in a marriage, especially if that marriage is toxic and harmful to your soul. I appreciate those thoughts and well-intended prayers, but at the end of the day, an abusive person who is not willing to self-reflect is not likely to change. The best thing to do at that point is to extricate yourself while you have the strength to do so.

    Recovering from trauma takes time. It has taken a lot of courage to look at my vulnerabilities and why I attracted such a relationship in the first place. This doesn’t mean I blamed myself. I just recognized that I had a strong need to feel loved and accepted, even if I was in an unhealthy situation, because I never felt loved and accepted as a child.

    It’s taken half a lifetime, but I’ve finally learned that everything I need is inside myself. I am complete on my own.

    Still, I have to work almost daily at forgiving, acting with grace, and ensuring that I am not compromising my needs or my right to be treated with dignity and respect in order to make him happy. I am still learning to stand my ground and expect respectful treatment when it comes to co-parenting.

    I will forever be grateful to the supportive network of family, friends, and a counselor who saw me through that incredibly rough time. A broken heart, shattered self-esteem, and deep postpartum depression did not disappear overnight.

    With the bravery it takes to self-reflect and learn from what appears to be a very unfortunate circumstance comes unparalleled growth. The self-forgiveness opens up opportunities for deeper self-love and self-compassion, and a much deeper understanding of my own humanness and how my past shaped me.

    But with time, self-love, self-forgiveness, and self-acceptance, I am a stronger and more empowered person today in spite of that experience. I am a phoenix, transformed by the fire. I will continue to see the beauty and unlimited potential in people, and I still choose to see the glass as half full. I do daily forgiveness work for myself and choose to move forward with love and grace, honoring my journey and my experience for what I have learned.

  • Unreasonable Boss? 8 Ways to Honor Yourself in a Toxic Workplace

    Unreasonable Boss? 8 Ways to Honor Yourself in a Toxic Workplace

    “Good bosses care about getting important things done. Exceptional bosses care about their people.” ~Jeff Haden

    “I’ll need you to log your work down to the minute on this spreadsheet,” she said pointing to my computer where an elaborate timesheet was swallowing up my entire screen.

    I looked up at her, confused—nope, more like utterly stunned. Was she for real? My body seemed to know before my mind that I’d just entered some sort of workplace twilight zone.

    I had a sinking feeling in my gut, and it was sounding some sort of alarm deep in my chest, making my heart do somersaults. She was serious. Clearly the shock was holding my throat hostage because all I could muster was a single word…

    “Okay,” I replied quietly, and off she went, oblivious to the impact her passive aggressive requests were having on me.

    I had just returned to work from maternity leave, and with three children aged six and under at home, I needed some flexibility in my work schedule.

    I was clocking in while it was still dark outside, long before anyone else so I could get home to my little ones with enough time for quality cuddles before tucking them in for the night.

    I was trying to achieve motherhood level 100 while still trying to conquer my career. Did I mention I was also pursuing my second master’s degree? Yes, I was on a mission to prove that I could still do it all.

    Of course, I knew “doing it all” was the age-old battle of every modern woman trying to be equal parts supermum and Sheryl Sandberg, but despite my husband’s very real concerns, I was doing it all.

    In fact, I was working harder, longer, and smarter than most people in my department because, like most mothers returning to work, I had that unshakable guilt inside telling me that I had to prove I was bringing my very best and not taking advantage of my “mum status.”

    So when my new line manager insisted on tracking my every move, decision, and waking moment I was utterly confused. I mean, there I was, delivering the project deliverables and meeting each and every deadline, and her biggest worry was that she wasn’t squeezing every possible work minute out of me?

    So, I did what so many of us do to prove our value to a superior: I went above and beyond to show her I was worthy of my pay no matter what it took. But the more I gave, the more she pushed, until finally, late one night, after yet another night of venting to my poor, put-upon husband, I found myself sprawled out on my living room floor, no longer able to hold back the tears.

    I was broken like a shattered glass. I realized that I had allowed her constant micromanaging to bring me to the brink, and that no matter what I did, she was never going to stop.

    My health was suffering. My relationships were suffering. I was suffering. I went from optimistic, happy, and loving my job to moody, stressed, and miserable. I dreaded going into this space where I never felt good enough.

    Work had begun to feel like a torture chamber. A place where the person charged with helping me succeed at my job was slowly but methodically chipping away at my confidence, and it was spilling over into my personal life.

    I finally accepted the reality: I had allowed her actions to steal my joy, and it was breaking my heart with every passing day. I felt so defeated.

    It became very clear to me that she didn’t seem to trust me, and seemed to like me even less. I was at a loss for what to do, but I knew that I couldn’t survive in this environment for much longer, so I had to figure something out.

    I went on a mission to remove the poison that had engulfed my workplace experience and bring the light back into my life. Because the truth was that in that moment I couldn’t leave my job. For now, at least, I had to deal with her and I had to find a way to cope, no matter what.

    So I went on a journey to figure out what I could do to honor myself and my happiness, because as far as I was concerned, suffering was completely optional.

    I had a family that needed me to get back to the old me. And frankly, I needed that too. I needed to survive my unreasonable boss. I’m guessing if you’re reading this, you have your own unreasonable boss whose overwhelming negative energy is causing problems in your life.

    I’m here to share with you the eight tools I used to get through one of the hardest times in my life so you can conquer your own “horrible boss.”

    1. Find your community and ask for help.

     Dealing with an unreasonable boss sometimes takes an army, or in my case a community, to survive.

    The truth is with any toxic relationship, whether it’s your boss or someone else, you go through a period of wondering, “Wait, am I just absolutely crazy that I feel this way? Is it all in my head? Am I silly for letting this mess with my emotions?”

    I needed someone to give me perspective. Someone safe who would give me the space to explore, without judgment, what I was feeling–an objective observer who could reflect back to me what I was really experiencing.

    What’s interesting is that even when you feel all alone, you’ll often find that you’re still surrounded by amazing people willing to help you weather the storm. I found that safety net in friends, family, and colleagues, in and outside of work, who were all willing to lend an ear.

    They were quite incredible really, offering advice and helping me figure out where things may have gone wrong. They allowed me to express my anger, frustration, and even let me cry. More than anything, though, they were objective and honest with me, gently leading me toward making the right moves for dealing with my boss.

    In their own unique ways, all of these people were empathetic and supportive. They were the break in the ocean keeping these waves of intensity from knocking me out cold.

    If you are at a loss for whom to turn toward, though, you can always turn inward. Journal about what you’re experiencing. Journaling often allows us to work through our issues on the page. And, of course, there are always tons of wonderful mental health professionals who can help give you a safe space to talk.

    2. Make relaxing rituals a part of your “job.”

     Being in a workplace with such high-pressure demands meant I was under a lot of stress. Sadly, there were days that I found myself bringing my boss’s energy home with me. The conflicts of the day ran wild through my mind, and the fear of not meeting my boss’s demands left me in constant flight or fight mode.

    My anxiety was high. I knew that I needed to create rituals that would help me break away from work and make my free time mine again. Because here’s the thing: Our wind-down time is when our minds and bodies recalibrate and restore, which is especially important when you’ve spent eight hours in a toxic work environment.

    In fact, I came to think of relaxing as a part of my job like meeting a deadline or completing a daily task. Because relaxation can do so much for honoring your health, including lowering blood pressure and heart rate, reducing anxiety, and improving mild depression.

    For me, a long warm bath was my me-time. But relaxation can come in so many forms: reading, yoga, a brisk walk, listening to your favorite Adele tune, watching a hilarious comedy, meditation, mindfulness, T’ai Chi, Chi Kung, or even spending time laughing with loved ones.

    Whatever it is, make it a big part of your self-care routine, and you’ll start to preserve your sanity in the midst of your workplace chaos.

    3. Let physical activity soothe and re-energize you.

    While I was dealing with my manager, there was one thing that helped me release all of the extra adrenaline I had running through my body: running. Throwing on my sneakers and hitting a long path lined with big, beautiful trees was one of my favorite things to do. Not only was it another form of relaxing me-time, it released the endorphins that I was desperately in need of at this time.

    Endorphins are feel-good hormones, released through physical activity, that elevate our moods. Hacking into your happy chemicals with exercise is an incredible way to combat a stressful work environment.

    Physical activity can be any number of things: dancing, trampoline jumping, cycling, baseball, skateboarding, or just simply going for a run. If you can find a community to do this with, like a team or running group, even better!

    4. Focus on the big picture of abundance.

    It’s true that the little things remind us how insignificant some of the tougher things in our lives are.

    Have you ever stared out at the stars on a quiet night and for a brief moment remembered how truly tiny you are in this great big universe? It’s in those moments that we’re reminded that the harmful energy of one bad boss, in the grand scheme of things, is really insignificant.

    We realize that it’s only a blip in our long lives on this earth, and that knowledge and perspective brought me peace.

    Finding these types of moments in our lives is so crucial. It can be found in so many unexpected places and moments. For me, I found it with my loved ones—my wonderful husband, six-year-old giggly daughter, four-year-old full-of-beans son, and two-year-old love-bug baby girl. They all kept me busy and grounded and reminded me that work was such a small part of this amazing life I was leading.

    There were other parts of my life that deserved my attention and energy as well, and that reminder helped me re-center over and over again.

    There are so many things that can bring these awe-inspiring moments fully into focus during a difficult work phase in your life: volunteering with those less fortunate; creative outlets like painting, sewing, or cooking, camping; or any activity that brings you into nature. These are not only distractions from a difficult work environment, but also reminders that life is fun, beautiful, and worthy of your attention.

    5. Feed your calm, not your stress.

    Dealing with a passive-aggressive, micro-managing boss meant not only dealing with a lot of stress, but also with tons of anxiety. And with lots of anxiety, sometimes my automatic reaction was to self-soothe with Ben & Jerry’s.

    Yes, I know we’ve all been there, that point of utter disappointment where all we can think to do is dive headfirst into the cookie jar.

    This is where being a health professional helps. I knew using food to manage my stress and deal with my emotional issues would be a slippery slope. On top of that, foods like ice cream and cookies would only make my plummeting moods worse.

    Here’s the thing: a sugary snack or baked goodie will send your blood sugar on a wild rollercoaster, which will further negatively affect your stress, anxiety, and depression. I was already dealing with one mood-enhancing rollercoaster (my boss!) I didn’t need to make things worse with my diet.

    I made a plan to eat in a way that supported my stress relief by eating foods that kept my blood sugar on an even keel. I incorporated whole grain products like brown rice, protein, and berries, and avoided stimulants like caffeine, alcohol, and nicotine, which could make mood swings worse.

    I also increased my omega-3 intake, which has been proven to reduce feelings of sadness, pessimism, indifference, sleeplessness, and low libido. You can find omega-3s in some pretty yummy foods like seafood, walnuts, flaxseed, and leafy green vegetables.

    6. Worship at the altar of sleep, because it’s sacred.

    With three kids, and a fourth in the form of a grouchy boss, I spent many sleepless nights stressed out. My mind would be constantly racing. The more I lost sleep, the worse things would be for me the next day.

    I grew more and more irritable and angry, and was just plain exhausted, which meant going to work the next morning to face my boss was getting more difficult.

    Lack of sleep meant my filters were down, and my ability to balance my mood was completely compromised. Basically, no sleep = falling into a spiral of self-loathing even at the smallest criticism from a difficult boss.

    “Switching off” the stress to get a good night’s sleep can be difficult, but making it a priority can make the difference between a good day or a bad day at work.

    A few things that help include trying to keep a regular sleep cycle (sleeping and waking at the same time every day) and avoiding stimulating activities before bed like TV, tablets, computers, or phones. The light given off by these devices suppress melatonin, which supports sleep.

    You can also include a night-time routine that helps you get into a relaxed state, like an end of day warm bath, a massage from your partner, aromatherapy, or a night-time meditation that lets you release tension.

    7. Take a step back and handle what’s yours.

    When we’re in a difficult circumstance like I was with my boss, we can spend a lot of time in our heads trying to figure it all out. I would always wonder, “Did I do something to cause this? Could I have done something differently?”

    The reality was that I could keep spinning my wheels trying to figure it out, but not everything was in my control. I learned to take a step back, reflect, and objectively look at the situation. I identified the real stressors I was facing, and then I went about the business of figuring out what was in my control and what wasn’t.

    What wasn’t in my control I accepted and tried my best to let go of, but what was in my control I approached head on.

    I looked at whether or not my coping strategies were effective and whether any strategies from past experiences could be modified to fit this situation. I also kept a close eye on my self-talk. It’s so incredibly easy to fall into negative self-talk, but I made it my mission to be kind to myself. I gave myself plenty of positive pep talks and pats on the back for any small victory. Make sure that you are doing the same to help combat stressful situations.

    8. Make the right moves, confidently. 

    Ultimately, your happiness and health should always at the top of your priority list. If you can’t deal with the situation with your difficult boss using any of the above, then it’s time to deal with the problem in the healthiest way possible.

    In my case, I did everything I could to remedy the situation on my own, by explaining to my boss the impact her behavior was having on me and by going through grievance channels at work, which meant mediation with my boss through Human Resources, for example. But in the end, I knew that staying in the situation was causing too much harm.

    When the opportunity came up to take voluntary redundancy, I jumped at it, and I spent some time with my family while I figured out my next steps. Building an exit strategy that puts you first is always something to applaud. Sometimes, the healthiest thing we can do for ourselves doesn’t look like the most practical, but it’ll save us years of heartache, stress, and ultimately, bad health.

    —

    These eight strategies helped me move through a toxic environment with a little more ease. What I came to find out, though, was that my boss was dealing with some of her own stress that she was bringing to the workplace. She was projecting her personal problems onto me, the mother with three children who seemed to “have it all.”

    She was roping me into carrying the burden of her issues in these micro-aggressions of control she was laying on me. Because of this, the truth is, I was never going to win her over, and I’d venture to guess that whatever is pushing your boss to keep you down is something you may never be able to fix either. Just remember that you are not required to carry someone else’s baggage.

    Your health matters, which is why I hope these tips help you find peace and health on your journey.

  • 7 Clues You’re in an Unhealthy Relationship

    7 Clues You’re in an Unhealthy Relationship

    Broken heart

    “You don’t let go of an unhealthy relationship because you stop caring about them. You let go because you finally start caring about you.” ~Charles Orlando

    Most of us have experienced the pain of being in an unhealthy relationship.

    It took me a long time to admit that I was in one. When I finally took off the rose-tinted glasses, I saw my relationship for what it was: an exhausting, lonely experience, with no real long-term benefits, that sucked the life out of me.

    I recognized that the relationship was causing me to feel worse about myself, not better, resulting in low self-esteem and a lack of personal growth. I thought I needed this other person, but I learned that I needed myself much more.

    Why do we stay in unhealthy relationships that have clearly run their course? Well, first, because it’s better the devil we know that the one we don’t, right? As creatures of habit, we find it difficult to break away from familiarity.

    Low self-esteem is another contributing factor. We feel stuck because we’ve conditioned ourselves to believe that we will never love again, or that nobody else will ever want us.

    For so long I made excuses to stay, even though I knew it was over and wrong for me. I convinced myself that the relationship was normal, and that the dysfunction was just part of the journey of love. Eventually, I realized that it shouldn’t be that hard.

    After I stepped away from the emotional chaos, I realized that I wasn’t being true to myself, doing what I enjoyed, or taking care of myself anymore. So I focused on developing and strengthening the relationship I had with myself.

    Whereas before I’d neglected my well-being, I began prioritizing self-care.

    I practiced meditation on a daily basis and used this as a therapeutic tool to calm my anxiety and help me learn to live in the moment.

    I also made a list of a few simple words that represent my core values and boundaries. I then recognized that my relationship was not in alignment with any of those.

    After deep reflection, this list turned into a gratitude journal. I’d write down everything I still had going for me, including my best qualities, to give myself strength when I felt weak and hope when I felt there was none.

    As a result of making these positive choices for myself, my intuition became stronger and I knew it was time to let go and move on. If I’d ignored my intuition and the clues that my relationship was unhealthy, I’m convinced that the situation would have gotten much worse over time.

    Don’t allow your unhealthy relationship to dictate your future like I did. Make a choice that your future self will thank you for.

    Not sure if you’re in an unhealthy relationship? Here are seven clues.

    1. Everything you do seems wrong.

    No matter what you do, it doesn’t feel right, and the blame always falls on you. Your self-esteem has been knocked so low that you’ve started to believe every negative thing your partner says about you. You may also feel like everything you say and do is wrong. It’s always about them and what they want.

    2. You can’t be yourself.

    You find it hard to speak your mind or express your true self around your partner. You have to become someone you’re not in order to be accepted or loved by them, so you forget about who you really are and what makes you happy.

    3. You always feel drained and exhausted.

    You’re always trying, the one who puts in all the effort with no compromise. As a result, you’re left feeling exhausted and burnt out. They drain your energy, which leaves you feeling empty and alone inside.

    4. You avoid the issues.

    You prefer to keep the peace, so you avoid discussing the underlying issues in your relationship. You make excuses for them to protect the relationship. You pretend you’re okay when you’re not, telling yourself it’s normal. You are scared of seeing the relationship for what it really is, because it hurts.

    5. You struggle with trust and dishonesty.

    Your intuition and that little voice in your head always tell you not to trust them, because they’ve let you down and been dishonest before. The relationship is based on secrecy, and there is no open and honest communication going on.

    6. There’s a lack of communication.

    There isn’t enough or any open and honest communication, or perhaps the communication is hostile, leaving you feeling like you are always the one to blame. Perhaps you feel ashamed to communicate how you feel because you are scared of being ignored or rejected.

    7. You feel resentment.

    You are starting to feel angry or negative toward yourself or your relationship because you can’t let go of the past and everything they’ve put you through. It’s gotten to the stage where an apology just isn’t enough. Too much has happened. As a result, intimacy has stopped and you feel uncomfortable getting close to them.

    —

    If any of these things are true for you, know that it’s far better to be alone than in the wrong company.

    Focus on strengthening the relationship you have with yourself by focusing on your good qualities, your strengths, and everything you still have to be thankful for.

    Get to know yourself better by understanding your values and boundaries, and don’t be afraid to walk away from any relationship that is not in alignment with them. Remain true to yourself, and the right relationships will come in time—one that doesn’t hurt.

  • The World Isn’t Filled with “Haters” and “Toxic People”

    The World Isn’t Filled with “Haters” and “Toxic People”

    Haters and toxic people

  • Abuse Isn’t Always Physical, and We Never Deserve It

    Abuse Isn’t Always Physical, and We Never Deserve It

    “A bad relationship is like standing on broken glass. If you stay, you will keep hurting. If you walk away, you will hurt but you will heal.” ~Autumn Kohler

    It happens little by little, bit by bit. So very slowly that before you know it, you can’t recognize the person you lie next to at night and you hate the person you see staring back at you in the mirror.

    Who is that person?

    Where is the strong, capable, unflappable, and carefree person that you once were? When did you become someone so pathetic, so small and malleable?

    I have never been the kind of girl who accepts bad behavior, let alone anything verging on abuse.

    I believe in good manners, in kindness, in treating others as you wish to be treated. I also believe absolutely in apologizing when I get it wrong.

    I don’t let my two little people get away with being rude, cheeky, or back-chatting a grown-up. So why did I let him treat me so appallingly? Why didn’t I stand up to him? Why didn’t I get out?

    I have always left, you see. With all the significant relationships I’ve been in, I have always ended it.

    I have always made that call. I’ve always run away when I couldn’t do it anymore, or cut my losses before I could get hurt.

    I ended my engagement to my ex mere months before the “big day.” I called time on my first marriage, seven years after saying “I do,” when three straight years of trying hard to fix it had failed.

    So why didn’t I leave him?

    People think domestic violence has to involve fists, bruises, and physical pain. Well, I can now put my hand up and admit that I was abused—but he never laid a finger on me. It doesn’t make it any less painful or significant or wrong.

    I am beginning to get comfortable owning what happened to me, but its effects have lasting consequences that I am aware of almost daily.

    The more time I spend analyzing what he did, and his potential motivations, the less I feel I understand what our relationship was about, and the more blatant the abuse appears.

    He controlled, manipulated, and systematically ignored me.

    I wasn’t allowed answer the door to other men if my husband wasn’t in the house, nor was I allowed to speak to other men at the pool where we trained.

    He loved my little skirts and dresses while he was wooing me, but as soon as he had me it was always, “I hope you’ve got appropriate knickers on wearing that” or, “you will keep your legs closed if you go out wearing that.”

    When he thought I had overstepped some invisible, unfathomable, and constantly shifting line, he could look me straight in the eye and yet completely ignore me for three straight days, without skipping a beat.

    Not a word would leave his mouth. For days on end. And for a girl who can talk the hind legs off a donkey, that is pretty much the worst kind of torture imaginable. I was invisible. I was nothing.

    But it happens gradually, remember.

    In the beginning, he built me up and showered me with words of love and affection. He placed me on a pedestal and worshipped me. I had never felt so precious to anyone before.

    He made himself the very center of my universe, and made himself so large that he obliterated everyone and everything else. Little by little, increment by increment, my universe became so very small, and by degrees I became myopic, a mere shadow of the woman I once was.

    In some ways, the hardest thing for me now is coming to terms with the fact that I didn’t have the nerve to get out.

    I had irrationally made the decision to stay because I truly felt that it was the only choice I had.

    I think I justify it by saying that it was the only thing I could do—for the sake of my children. They had already been through so much; I couldn’t damage them further.

    And anyway, his behavior was only directed at me. Once he had me controlled, managed, and living in fear, it was was only ever about me; I perceived that my children were safe from any form of direct threat.

    The decision to get out, to get free and safe, wasn’t a decision I ever had to make, or got the chance to make. By some weird twist in the way the universe works, I received the ultimate “get out of jail free” card. The abusive monster of a man to whom I had given three years of my life died.

    He died suddenly and shockingly, and in doing so simultaneously set me free and inflicted his biggest, most significant controlling act.

    Now, almost exactly one year later, I still feel immense and overwhelming relief that I am out of that place; that like a caterpillar trapped, bound and confined, I have been able to break free and spread my beautiful wings.

    But I still feel some misplaced sense of shame that I didn’t get to make that call. That I didn’t put my big girl brave pants on and make that decision first, and for me.

    Being in that relationship is, without question, the biggest and worst regret of my life, one that I will carry to my grave.

    I wanted to write this for all the people who feel trapped, who feel like a watered down impression of the person they once were. For the people who don’t feel able to speak out and ask for help.

    I know how that feels.

    I know the shame and embarrassment that keeps your lips sealed, even around those who you trust and love the most.

    Just because there are no physical marks doesn’t mean it isn’t abuse.

    When you question yourself and you try to tell yourself that it’s really not that bad, that he or she loves you, really, but has just got a few issues to deal with, or worse still, that it’s your fault he or she treats you this way, trust your gut.

    If they continually put you down, shut you out in an attempt to manipulate and control you, ignore your needs, threaten you in any way, call you “crazy” or “overly sensitive” when you dare to raise your worries, and/or blames you for their reactions, that is not love. It is abuse.

    It’s easier somehow to make excuses, accept the blame (you will even start to believe it), but know that you could end up spending the rest of your days in an a broken and painful place—a relationship where you feel small, worthless, and lonely beyond words.

    Somewhere in your gut, you likely know this is true.

    Whether your inner voice is yelling at you, or just whispering to get out, you know. You know it’s not right and that you deserve so much more. You deserve to have the chance for your wings to be set free.

    And I pray that you do.

  • 6 Healthy Ways to Shed Layers of Emotional Pain

    6 Healthy Ways to Shed Layers of Emotional Pain

    Shedding Layers

    “And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom.” ~Anais Nin

    Do you remember a time when you wanted to crawl under the bed and stay forever?

    Perhaps you’d been dealing with chronic pain and anxiety, had recently experienced divorce or the loss of a loved one, maybe even lost a job or two. I had experienced all of these things in just a few short years, and, judging by the loud knocking as I hid, was about to have my car repossessed, too.

    I called my dad and told him I was a bit depressed. “Don’t be,” he counseled.

    “Don’t be?” I repeated. “Oh, okay, I’m fine then.”

    “Yep, like that.”

    This way of dealing with the painful feelings, of ignoring and burying them as we force ourselves ever onward, is often expected of us.

    It’s natural—scary things happen to us in life. We fall down unexpectedly, we fight, we fail, we are betrayed, abandoned, overwhelmed by loss. The subconscious starts enfolding us in protective layers when we need them so that we can move forward with life.

    But what happens when we don’t let go once the need has passed?

    Believe it or not, emotions, especially those that needed to be dealt with long ago, can become toxic little bombs tucked secretly inside our muscles, our organs, running through our blood. According to Caroline Myss, “Our biography becomes our biology.”

    These emotional layers can build up as extra weight, angry outbursts that seem to come from nowhere, aches and pains, unhealthy habits, an itchy feeling that something isn’t right, depression, anxiety, perhaps even disease.

    At first, my layers were mostly hidden from the world. The evidence of a tumultuous childhood showed up only when I was pushed too far by something little but snapped with the resentment of a hundred years, the times when I backed down easily instead of standing my ground, the nights when I had that extra drink to ease social anxiety. Let’s call this the invisible, sneaky layer of plastic wrap.

    Then came the thicker materials: burlap, leather, drywall, the hair shirt, the ironclad ball and chain around the ankle. Leather made me look tougher as I moved to Texas to hide from my parents’ divorce. But moving did not help and neither did the armor.

    My steps through life grew heavier, depressed. My body grew heavier, too. I jokingly called it my “layer of pizza” resulting from a car accident at age twenty-three: chronic back pain and herniated discs with no relief in sight. The chocolate was a great listener; the cheesy bread totally got it.

    When my dad passed away suddenly, just hours after we’d been laughing on the phone together, my anxiety was so high, my wall built up so tall, that I could not leave the house without medication.

    I coped with Netflix marathons, hiding from the world and hoping that life would just gently go away, leave me alone, let me pretend to be a character in someone else’s story.

    To the world, I looked unscathed, but the layer of pain remained ever-present. If I had to add another layer, I felt I would never move again.

    I heard an urgent whisper, “Let go, let go, let go…”

    Desperate, I decided to try “that crazy yoga stuff.” And that’s when I learned how to acknowledge the layers, let the tears melt them away, and send them on their happy way to help those who needed them more.

    A layer or two of “pizza,” the medication, the unexplained and unidentifiable sadness, started disappearing. Lighter, I discovered a little more self, a gleam of joy, a dream or two remembered.

    I will not lie to you—the rainbows and unicorns come after the hard work. First, you must face the emotion that was so terrible, you instead let the layer of scales and fangs grow in. But when that unicorn comes galloping down the rainbow to gently peel the scales away forever, well, that’s worth it, my friend.

    There is no telling how many times we need to go through this process. Once we’ve sorted through and let go of all the “stuff,” life is still happening, constantly changing no matter how tightly we are gripping. We must always re-evaluate: What am I clinging to? What layers are holding me back?

    Practices to Shed Layers of Old Feelings

    1. Journal.

    What emotions or habits might be holding you back? Without the pressure of forcing yourself to give anything up immediately, simply allow yourself to imagine what your life could look like if you did let go of negativity. How does your ideal self look and feel while realizing your wildest goals?

    For me, journaling was really tough at first. Sometimes I would just make lists to get ideas flowing. Some of my entries started, “Today sucked. I feel bad.” Oooh, award winning. But as the words flowed, the emotions would sneak out, begging to be named: “but yesterday, my boss said…and it reminded me of dad and I miss him…” OH. There it is.

    2. Meditate.

    When I first meditated, I set a three-minute timer at my desk at work during my lunch break. Now it has grown into my favorite twenty minutes of the day. The small action of stopping to check in with yourself, even for a moment or two, can be a very powerful key into learning more and letting go.

    3. Find a healing practice for yourself.

    Whether it’s a local yoga class, massages, regular exercise like running, a Reiki treatment, a day at the spa, or even a virtual course on chakras, intuition, or any type of self-healing, setting aside time for self-care melts the layers by adding a little more love and self-respect, leaving less room for the doubt and worry. Combine a few of those in the same week and see how you feel!

    My favorite go-to practice is taking a bath with essential oils, candles, and soothing music when I need to re-charge. If I’m short on time, a simple ten-minute foot soak in the tub, with salts and some lavender, works just as well.

    4. Take a break from the media.

    I know, it’s unthinkable. What if we miss everything? As if the expectations of others weighed with our own grief weren’t enough to navigate, now social media adds a new layer of hurt, comparison, and confusion. Just when you think you’re over it, you can be “blocked” or stalked or publicly assailed. It’s even more in our face, so to speak.

    When I had a hurtful disagreement with a friend, I decided to take a month away from Facebook to heal. It really helped. I also step away when I notice I’m starting to compare my life with the glossy “this is who I want you to see me as” photos of others. And guess what? I still have friends when I return every time, in addition to a fresh perspective and better feelings about myself.

    Real friends will still be there. It can even be as simple as a time limit. You can do it.

    5. Read uplifting books.

    You can choose self-study through gorgeous spiritual books, like Peace is Every Step by Thich Nhat Hanh, The Four Agreements by Don Miguel Ruiz, or Way of the Peaceful Warrior by Dan Millman.

    Choose books that lift your spirit and open your mind, especially those that instruct on letting go and being present. This was a game-changer for me; I could feel layers just floating away from the soothing advice of those who’ve been there, too.

    6. Laugh.

    When you laugh until you cry, no doubt a layer is disappearing. Releasing emotions doesn’t always have to be hard work. Play can offer the relief we need, too. So can dancing in your living room to Enrique Iglesias or to your guilty pleasure, flail like no one’s watching jam.

    —

    So why bother with peeling back the layers?

    Our layers have layers, born of layers that were layered over layers. This work is like unwrapping a mummy, and as you go deeper, you learn things you never could have imagined. You may even see some scary stuff you weren’t expecting. Better out than in, though, right?

    And guess what’s hiding underneath? The truest, most lovely version of yourself waiting to blossom and shine.

    Shedding layers image via Shutterstock

  • How to Leave a Toxic Relationship When You’re Still in Love

    How to Leave a Toxic Relationship When You’re Still in Love

    “Sometimes good things fall apart so better things can fall together.” ~Marilyn Monroe

    Why does it have to hurt so badly?

    You’re so in love, but your relationship has become toxic. It simply can’t continue.

    Night after sleepless night, you lie awake replaying the fights in your head.

    You can’t understand why your partner won’t change or how they can simply ignore how you feel. You wonder if they ever truly loved you.

    You’ve tried everything to save your relationship, but nothing’s worked. You know it’s time to end it, yet the thought of being alone petrifies you.

    But still, the pain has become too unbearable. If you don’t end things now, you might completely lose yourself.

    Learning to Let Go

    Letting go of someone you care about is definitely a difficult thing to do.

    I was forced to accept that my relationship with my ex wasn’t meant to be.

    The lies and the cheating became too much to handle. And to make matters worse, he was also physically abusive to me.

    The blows were so unexpected. I never knew if the next argument would put me in the hospital, or maybe worse, be my last.

    I wanted him to stop hurting me. I wanted him to understand that his behavior tore me apart inside.

    I wanted him to change.

    It didn’t matter how much I loved him. It didn’t matter if I was the best woman or friend in the universe; nothing would have worked.

    Was he really worth all of this?

    No, he wasn’t. And I knew I needed to get him out of my life.

    If you’re stuck in a toxic relationship, know that you can find the strength to get yourself out of it and move on.

    Realize That You Deserve Better

    Sometimes, loving someone just isn’t enough if you aren’t receiving the same love in return.

    It’s like putting work into an old, broken-down car. No matter how much sweat and tears you put into it, it will never be the same again.

    The time you waste on the wrong person prevents the right person from coming your way.

    How can they come into your life if you already have that space filled?

    It took me a long time to realize this.

    If you had told me back then that I would have found a man who truly loved and respected me for who I was, I would have never believed you.

    I had to let go.

    Shortly after as I let go of my abusive relationship, I met my husband. He is the reason I believe in true love today.

    I am living proof that you can experience true love if you just believe that something much better is out there for you.

    You may not know who they are, or when they will come, but they are waiting on you to let go so that they can come into your life.

    Stop Waiting for Your Partner to Change

    This is the biggest mistake a person can make when deciding to stay in a relationship in which you’re being mistreated.

    You have to accept that the only person you control in this world is yourself.

    Unless the other person owns up to their mistakes, and shows the desire to get help, they probably won’t change.

    They may promise to change and turn things around for the better.

    They may even be genuine about their intentions at that moment.

    But more than likely, things will stay the same, especially if they made promises in the past that they didn’t fulfill.

    Change has to come from within; it can’t be forced. Only then do things have a chance of working themselves out.

    I thought my ex would change for me. I thought that if I tried hard enough to convince him how much he hurt me, he would have no choice but to change. But I was wrong.

    Sometimes our judgment is clouded. Sometimes we simply want to see the best in someone. Sometimes we’re just so afraid of being alone.

    Regardless of what we tell ourselves, some relationships are just irreparable.

    Accept That It Will Hurt

    There is no easy way of getting around it.

    It’s going to hurt. And it’s going to hurt a lot!

    You’re worried about missing the feeling of being desired and wanted, the intimate and close moments you shared.

    Instead of being just a part of your life, they have become your entire life. You have forgotten how to live for yourself.

    Getting over the initial discomfort of being alone is the hardest part. But once you get past that stage, life becomes a whole lot easier.

    The lessons you learn along the way will allow you to grow and become a better person.

    The pain will not last forever. Time is your best friend.

    When I ended my relationship with my ex, I tried everything I could to distract myself. I figured that if I didn’t think about it, the pain would eventually disappear.

    When that didn’t work, I tried to think of ways to mend our relationship rather than end it. I figured that accepting the disappointment in him was easier to handle than being lonely.

    That was another failed attempt at avoiding heartache.

    At some point, I knew I had to accept that it would never work out, and any route I took to end it wouldn’t be an easy one.

    If you work through the pain, instead of trying to avoid it, you limit the chances of your feelings coming back to haunt you later on.

    Use Crying As a Cure

    The best thing you can do for yourself is to release the pain. Don’t hold it in.

    Sometimes, we are expected to be strong when we’re dealing with tough situations.

    I’ve found that to be ineffective.

    The more I tried to hold in my pain and be strong, the worse I felt, and I eventually stressed myself out.

    So what did I do?

    I cried.

    I cried over and over again, and then I cried some more.

    Yup, you heard me right.

    I cried like a baby!

    I stopped pretending everything was okay. I allowed the tears to keep falling until I felt they couldn’t fall any longer. It lasted a few weeks, but I felt like a new person when it was over.

    The tight feeling in my chest was no longer there. I began to think clearer and notice that things weren’t truly as bad as I thought they were.

    I started smiling again. I started noticing the sun shining and the beautiful clouds in the sky. I was no longer in that dark place. I felt brand new.

    Instead of trying to be strong, crying can help with the healing process.

    Take Some Time Off

    Sometimes, it seems like the end of the world, even though it’s not.

    Your mind attempts to play tricks on you, making you believe that happiness isn’t possible any longer.

    But that isn’t true.

    Often, the best cure for pain is time.

    By resting your heart, mind and soul, you give yourself a chance to heal. This is also the best time to get to know you.

    Maybe there’s a hobby that you love or an activity you enjoy doing.

    For me, it was baking. Even though it didn’t completely take my mind off of things, it allowed me to spend time alone doing something I really enjoyed.

    And I appreciated that.

    Eventually, I began focusing more on myself, and less on my situation.

    It didn’t work immediately, but over time, it helped a lot.

    If you allow it, each day will become a little easier. Time heals.

    And even though my relationship didn’t work out as planned, I realized I could still enjoy my life.

    Happiness is Within Your Control

    Your life isn’t over. Taking back control begins with you.

    Everyone needs help at one time or another. You don’t have to go through this alone.

    If you’re in a toxic relationship, there are people that can help you. Seeking help from your loved ones, a professional or even a clergy member, can help you get back on your feet.

    I am living proof that you can get through this. You can overcome your situation.

    Just imagine finally being happy again and enjoying the things that you used to love. No more worrying about the future. You are finally content with the present.

    The load has been lifted off of your chest. The tears no longer fall.

    You finally realize you deserve better. It may seem unimaginable right now, but it’s definitely possible.

    If you make the choice today, you are one step closer to a happier tomorrow.

    You can do it. I believe in you. Now it’s time for you to believe in yourself.

    Make a declaration that today starts the healing process. From now on, you will work toward living the amazing life you deserve.

    **If you believe you are in a dangerous situation, please seek help. Don’t wait. Contact The National Domestic Violence Hotline for help. You can find additional free resources here.

    Clinging woman image via Shutterstock

  • Dealing with Toxic Relationships and Finding Emotional Freedom

    Dealing with Toxic Relationships and Finding Emotional Freedom

    Arguing

    “We would do ourselves a tremendous favor by letting go of the people who poison our spirit.” ~Unknown

    My husband and I both have living grandparents. My daughter has met the grandparents on my husband’s side, but she hasn’t met mine. Some think I’m cruel for not taking her to meet my grandmother because I had an excellent relationship with my great grandparents.

    Some ask why I haven’t contacted her in the two years since my only child was born. I could give a long drawn-out response and try to explain why I gave up on a relationship with my maternal grandmother. But most don’t understand, and I choose to spend my time in more productive ways.

    Instead, I keep the answer short and simple: She’s toxic.

    That’s it. She is a toxic person, and I’m done letting her eat away at my soul bit by bit just because she shares a fraction of my DNA.

    There is a lot of advice out there about how to distance yourself from toxic people and relationships, but it’s never as easy as it sounds. I had a lot of mixed feelings about ending my relationship with my grandmother. She had always been a part of my life, albeit a mostly negative part.

    The truth is, removing toxicity from any area of your life is a process. There is a certain amount of mourning that goes into cutting ties with someone. It’s almost as if the person has died, except you have to resist the urge to resurrect her because that option is still there.

    When I first began the process, I felt conflicted. Suddenly, all the bad didn’t seem so bad anymore. I started remembering the good times.

    I remembered exploring with my cousins on the acres of my grandmother’s land. I remembered taking my pick from her complete library of animated Disney movies. I remembered playing hide and seek in her huge garden amongst the fully grown stalks of corn.

    But then I realized something. None of those memories directly involved my grandmother. And the memories that did involve her still leave a sour taste in my mouth.

    I remember the time she forced me to sit at the dinner table for hours after everyone else had finished because I didn’t like her spaghetti. I also remember the time I drew a picture for her, and she told me it was ugly. And I can’t forget when she let our family cat die while my family was on vacation because she didn’t feel like feeding her.

    If you are grappling with the prospect of removing a toxic person from your life, ask yourself these questions:

    What positives does this person bring to my life?

    How does this person make me feel?

    Is the relationship mutually beneficial?

    Do I dread interactions with this person?

    If your answers to these questions are mostly negative or you realize you are trying to convince yourself that “it’s not that bad,” it is time to take a step back from the relationship.

    In many cases, removing toxicity does not require ending the relationship. You may simply need to take time away and set the appropriate boundaries before allowing this person back into your life.

    However, as was the case with my grandmother, the person may be so toxic and the resentment may run so deep that it is necessary to completely end contact with the person. You can choose to do this all at once or make it a gradual fading-out. Either way, you must cut off the relationship for the sake of your emotional (and sometimes physical) health.

    I made the decision to cut my grandmother out of my life when I pictured my daughter having experiences similar to mine. I couldn’t bear to see my precious child treated the same way my grandmother had treated me and the rest of her grandchildren. I realized that I have the power to keep that from happening.

    I decided that the cycle of emotional abuse and toxic behavior would end with me. My grandmother wouldn’t be given the opportunity to hurt my child like she had hurt me, my mother, and so many others in her life.

    It’s true that we will be hurt. Our children will be hurt. But this hurt shouldn’t come from the people we are supposed to trust and claim to care for us.

    When I realized this, suddenly the process wasn’t so painful anymore. The possible negative consequences for keeping my grandmother in my life were worse than any positives she might bring to the table.

    Instead of keeping someone around based on biological ties or perceived obligation, choose to put your well-being first and free yourself from the toxicity.

    Choose to surround yourself with love, support, and safety and embrace your emotional freedom.

    Arguing image via Shutterstock

  • “Toxic” People Often Need Compassion the Most

    “Toxic” People Often Need Compassion the Most

    “Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle.” ~Plato

    By all standard definitions, I used to be an energy vampire. I lived in my own self-created drama, prone to rages, complaints, and self-pity. I exhausted the people around me and played games of control, superiority, and victimhood.

    I’ve heard this bundle of behaviors called a “personality type,” and I think that is as obscene as saying that a hungry person has a “Hungry Personality Type.”

    An energy vampire, by definition, is someone who cannot create or sustain their own positive energy, so they take it from others. An energy vampire, by my own experience of that definition, is someone lacking in self-love and trying to pull that love out of others.

    Such a person is simply hungry, not inherently flawed.

    I’ve been there.

    A few years ago, I began hearing voices and feeling suicidal. I had drained the people around me dry and I was all alone. I was trying to drain myself, but I had nothing left to give. I had to choose: change or die.

    When I started to change, I realized just how much I hated myself, how much I judged myself, how many impossible standards I set for my own acceptance. I began to work on accepting and loving myself just as I was.

    Bit by bit, I opened up to the beauty of my face, the beauty of nature, the beauty of the human smile.

    I began to fall deeply in love with everything and everyone. After years of hunger, years of being a love vampire, biting others to get it, I realized that I could feed myself. I didn’t have to hurt myself or anyone else.

    In that awareness, I remembered the people who had accepted me when I was “toxic.” These people became my teachers. Their kindness and love, which was invisible to me in a state of desperate love hunger, suddenly became crystal clear in my newfound self-awareness.

    It hurts me to confess that some of these people never got to see me get better. All they knew was my darkness and they gave as much as they could before they left. And they are still my greatest teachers.

    After I healed my mind and replenished my self-love tank, I began to reach out to others on the same journey.

    I’ve met so many people who have been abandoned by everyone around them, because they’re “energy vampires.” I found these people in my family. I found them in my old circles of friends.

    It hasn’t been easy, but I’ve really tried to give back what was given to me. I’ve tried my best to be loving and supportive to people who only know how to take (at least, right now).

    And it’s been worth it.

    A few years ago, I kept meeting up with one person that everyone around me told me was toxic. I was always exhausted after hanging around her and I knew that, deep down, she resented me. She treated me just like I used to treat people.

    I didn’t “cut ties” or “protect myself” from her as all the articles say. I gave her some of my time—not all of it, but some of it. I took care of myself enough that I could heal from any emotional pain I got in our meetings.

    Eventually, she stopped talking to me. We didn’t speak for close to five months and, the other day, she suddenly called me to ask if we could meet up.

    When I saw her, her eyes were sparkling and her smile shone for miles. She couldn’t stop talking about all the epiphanies she’d had and all the ways she’d healed. She had stumbled across some powerful lessons in a program she enrolled in and it changed her life.

    She kept saying, “Now, I understand.” Everything I would talk about that she eyed suspiciously—now, she understood.

    After a long conversation about her new, joyful life, she paused, looked away, and said, “I hated you, you know. I couldn’t believe anything you said and I just didn’t understand that happiness like this was possible. I thought you were lying. I was such a jerk to you. Why did you keep talking to me?”

    I smiled and said the words that I’d used to defend her behind her back when others would interrogate me with the same question: “You deserve it. I saw myself in you. You weren’t a jerk. You were hungry. I knew you’d wake up one day and, when you did, you’d remember this, remember me. And, one day, you’d be that person for someone else.”

    And, now, she is.

    I’m not saying we should all surround ourselves with people who make us feel bad. I’m not saying that we should spend all our time giving compassion to others at our own demise.

    What I am saying is this: Oftentimes the “toxic” people are the ones that need compassion the most.

    And although you probably won’t get a “Thank You” from them in that moment, being kind, seeing them from a compassionate perspective, and refusing to resort to negative adjectives, that could really change a person’s life.

    Your acts of kindness, though they may not be immediately rewarded, are never wasted. They will sit inside the recipient’s mind, outside the walls of their self-imposed limiting beliefs, awaiting their awakening.

    And, if they do awaken, they will remember you and they will learn from you. And your acts will have contributed to a more loving world with fewer “energy vampires” and more people who love themselves and love others.