Tag: unlovable

5 Things I Did Because I Didn’t Feel Good Enough and What I Do Now Instead

“You have been criticizing yourself for years and it hasn’t worked. Try approving of yourself and see what happens.” ~Louise Hay

Since I was a little girl, I believed there was something fundamentally wrong with me.

So I was always trying to find a way to fix myself and be worthy. To feel good enough.

No baby is born thinking they aren’t worthy, and neither was I—or you.

This came from our early beginnings.

I had a very traumatized dad, who I now understand was struggling with his own pain from his childhood.

He would lose his temper and torment me. Tell me I was nothing and no one. That I was unlovable. That nothing I did was good enough.

As children, we just believe our parents. We cannot understand or fathom why they would say these things to us if they weren’t true. So we internalize the belief of not being good enough or not worthy.

We all find our own way to survive this pain of not being seen or loved for who we truly are.

These are the five ways I tried to fix feeling unworthy but actually ended up ruining my life instead.

1. I tried to please and fix people.

I wanted to please my dad. In fact, I lived for it. Whether I was going to have a good day or bad day was all dependent on my parents’ moods. I was only okay if they were okay.

As an adult, this meant I gave my power away to people. I allowed them to take out their emotions on me, and I took responsibility for how they felt. I didn’t feel safe when people were upset, and I believed to my core everything was my fault because of this deep shame I was carrying.

This was all learned in my childhood and has a name—codependency. A great book to read is Codependent No More by Melody Beattie. She explains in detail why we do this!

2. I got into toxic, codependent relationships.

I was a magnet for relationships where it was all about the other person’s needs and feelings. The codependency had left me so needless and wantless that we became the perfect match for each other! They wanted to be chased and adored. I (unconsciously) wanted to ignore my own needs.

I was used to chasing love in relationships without compassion and kindness and being blamed for how other people felt, so these toxic relationships felt normal for me.

A codependent’s wounds can attract a narcissist. Narcissists are also traumatized children, and these wounds create a trauma bond. I had this in friendships and romantic love. These relationships were never about me, and my low self-worth got lower and lower as a result.

They become almost my higher power. I was obsessed with meeting their needs. I thought if I could make them happy, they would choose me and then I would feel good enough.

Sadly, that never happened, and I just got exhausted and sick in the process.

3. I obsessed over fixing my body.

When your body is criticized in childhood, not just by a parent but by other traumatized family members and society, you conclude that it mustn’t be enough.

I went from a confident little girl twirling to someone who hid in the corners of a room in baggy clothes. I didn’t want to be seen or noticed in case someone shamed me for what I looked like. That stung!

So, instead of recognizing that other people had created this issue in me, I spent years abusing my body, through excessive exercise and dieting, to make it perfect. Then, when my body would change, people would still make comments on my imperfections, and I would emotionally eat to numb the pain.

I also overate because I didn’t really care about nourishing my body. I hated it so much. I felt like it was to blame for all these horrible things people would say about it. I never considered for one moment that hurt people hurt people.

4. I got myself into debt.

I worked from a very young age, but my dad didn’t allow me to access to the money I earned. He controlled how I spent it, which sent the message that I couldn’t be trusted with money. Safe to say, this didn’t create the healthiest relationship with money.

If I earned it, I felt uncomfortable holding on to it, so I would overspend. I was more comfortable rolling in debt, as that’s what I felt like I was worth. I would always be clearing debt, and then when I would have money again, I would do something to shift the balance once again. It was normal for me to be in these feast-famine cycles with money, kind of like my love life and my relationships with my parents. There one minute and gone the next!

5. I overworked and overachieved.

Since I was a little girl, I tried to do whatever I could to get my dad’s approval and love. One way to his heart was through education and achievement, so I went all in as a child and adult. Working long hours to pass my exams, applying for qualifications he wanted me to get, even though I had no interest in the subject areas. I learned very young to work lots because, if I didn’t, he would get angry with me, and that felt scary. So I did what I could to try to keep myself safe.

My dad has been gone for fifteen years, as he took his life in 2008, yet I still find myself doing this one! It’s part of my unconscious programming. When I feel unsafe or unworthy around work or even my business, I will push harder. I will forgo my own basic needs, like food and water, to meet a deadline.

—

All of these characteristics are what we call “trauma adaptations”—ways my little brain learned to survive in an unpredictable environment. Between birth and seven especially, children should be nurtured so they can grow self-worth and self-belief. But children that grew up like me were too busy feeling terrified and surviving, so it’s no wonder we got older and struggled.

However, I have learned first-hand that no matter what age we are, we can change our adaptations with awareness.

I began to get curious about how I spoke to myself, and I soon realized that I wouldn’t even speak to an enemy the way I was talking to myself. So I consciously started to speak to myself with kindness and compassion, like I would a friend. I also began listening to affirmations to help me rewrite this negative narrative I had in my mind.

All of a sudden, I started to unconsciously say the affirmations out loud. I would say things like, ”I am worth so much more than that” and then gasp that I had changed my beliefs.

I learned, mainly from books and podcasts, how to show myself love and care. I introduced this slowly into my routine. I was learning to become my own nurturing parent, the one I missed out on growing up. Like little seeds, my self-worth began to slowly grow.

After that, I felt worthy of investing in support from professionals. They provided a safe space for me to explore my story and to get a different perspective. I also found somatic therapy and Internal Family Systems parts work really helpful for healing trauma and growing my self-worth.

I still had relationships in my life that needed changing, which required boundaries and even walking away from some people, but I had to grow that relationship with myself first. Then I had the confidence to expect more in my relationships. When the relationship with myself was no longer toxic and abusive, I was able to stop chasing the unhealthy ones and walk away from the abusive ones.

The seeds in my self-worth garden were growing, and my life changed as a result. My reality was a mirror of how worthy I felt within.

Because I believed I was worthy of true love when it came to me, I didn’t run away; I welcomed it.

I chose new career paths, as I realized I was worthy of having more money and working a job that fulfilled me, not one I had taken to please my dad.

My relationship with my body is changing too. I show it love and kindness with how I feed it, speak to it, and treat it. No more extreme behaviors. I’m learning to love it just as it is.

I realize now that I always had this power to love and care for myself. When I learned to do this, my story changed, and I began to feel more than good enough. It was never about anyone else giving that to me or outside validation. It was about ending the war that began inside of me when I didn’t get my needs met as a kid.

I lovingly use inner child parts work to tend to my younger self, who sometimes falls back into her survival adaptations. I let my inner child know that she is safe now and that I am here to take care of her needs. That we no longer need to chase, overachieve, or overgive in order to be loved and accepted. That I love and accept her for all of her light and her darkness. For her shadow parts.

I listen to her fears, her sadness, her grief—the way I wished someone listened to me when I was younger. I attend to her needs with love and compassion so she no longer has to search for love or validation in the wrong places.

If you can relate to any of what I wrote, start planting seeds in your self-worth garden today and watch your story change.

December 22, 2023
8 Signs You’re Carrying Deep Shame and How to Start to Heal
“If you put shame in a petri dish, it needs three ingredients to grow exponentially: secrecy, silence, and judgment. If you put the same amount of shame in the petri dish and douse it with empathy, it can’t survive.” ~Brené Brown

Did you know that one of the biggest causes of suffering is unacknowledged shame? It makes us believe that there’s something wrong with us and we’re not good enough.

When we have deep shame inside, instead of being true to ourselves, we “dress to impress” so others will like us, which eventually makes us tired, depressed, and anxious because we’ve become disconnected from our true essence.

Having shame isn’t the issue; the real issue is resisting or trying to cover it up. The more we try to keep shame hidden, the more we live in limitation and self-protection and experience stress in our system.

We may experience self-hate and a constant critical inner voice. Those parts of us don’t want to be suppressed, forced to change, or told they’re bad or wrong; they want to be seen, heard, and embraced in unconditional acceptance and love.

Many of us try to hide our shame because we don’t want to feel that deep pain. And if people look at us in a weird way, criticize, judge, or leave us, then what? We’ll be all alone. Well, that may not be true, but that’s what we may have experienced in the past, and we fear it happening again.

We may want a new relationship and to be intimate, but a part of us may push it away because we’re afraid that they’ll see that we’re not perfect human beings and leave. Then that would re-affirm the false belief that we’re unlovable or unworthy.

We may want to share our creativity and/or express ourselves in some way, but we’ve been shamed for doing so in the past, so we stop ourselves because we don’t want to be hurt again.

We may want to do inner healing, but if we do, we’ll get in touch with the parts of us that are hurting, and feeling those feelings may seem overwhelming because we’re used to suppressing them and they’re attached to past pains or traumas.

Some of us were shamed for making a mistake in the past, even though making mistakes is part of learning. When we fear making mistakes, we tend to self-sabotage or procrastinate.

Sometimes we use food, drugs, alcohol, or being busy to try to numb and get away from our painful and shameful feelings.

Sometimes shame manifests as chronic fatigue, self-criticism, depression, low self-esteem or painful sensations in our body. We may feel self-conscious, anxious, and insecure and have a hard time speaking up or receiving gifts and compliments because we don’t feel worthy of them.

So what is shame really? It makes us believe that we’re bad, wrong, unlovable, or unworthy. Those ideas stem from not meeting other people’s expectations of how we should be, or from experiences that made us feel embarrassed.

Because we didn’t know how to cope with or process our feelings at the time, we developed a negative lens through which we now see ourselves and others that dictates what we do and don’t do.

If we were shamed for or felt shame about something as children, we usually try to find a way to compensate for it as adults. What do I mean?

As a child, I was teased for being fat and ugly, and I blamed my body for me not having any friends and for my father criticizing and teasing me.

At age thirteen, my doctor told me to go on a diet. When I lost weight I received compliments and recognition; however, I took it to the extreme, and at age fifteen I became a severe anorexic. No matter how many therapists or treatment centers I went to (which were numerous), I wouldn’t let go of the disordered eating behaviors that I thought kept me safe.

I developed survival strategies, exercising non-stop and eating very little, so I would never be fat and teased again. However, as much as I tried to protect myself from the shame of being fat, I was now being shamed for how and what I ate and what my body looked like.

My father told me he was embarrassed to be seen with me, and I was made fun of, criticized, and judged from people on the street, the therapists I was seeing, and the those in charge in the treatment centers I was in.

So, in a sense, I was being shamed for trying to cope, feel safe, and survive.

At age fifteen I became obsessed with money to try to compensate for the powerless, shameful feelings I was having.

Money gave me a fleeting, false sense of power and worthiness. If I wasn’t working and earning money, I felt like a horrible person.

I was trying to hide my deep shame and feel worthy, valuable, lovable, and safe by controlling my food and weight and how much money I made and saved, but none of that ever made me truly feel okay or healed my deep pain and shame. Deep inside, I was still experiencing depression, anxiety, a critical voice, and self-hate, and I was acting in self-harming and self-depriving ways.

When people used to say to me, “Debra, you just need to love yourself,” I thought, “Yeah right, what does that even mean? I don’t deserve to be loved and cared for. I’m bad. I deserve to suffer, to be punished, criticized, and deprived, and to struggle in life.”

This is what unresolved shame does. It creates a shame-based identity. It runs our subconscious programming, disconnects us from our authenticity, and makes us believe that there’s something wrong with us—that we’re unworthy, unlovable, and not good enough.

We don’t stop loving the ones who shamed and hurt us; we stop loving ourselves, and we start treating ourselves in the same ways they did. The external rejection becomes our own internal rejection.

It may be helpful to understand that people who blame, shame, or criticize us are also hurting and have deep wounds that make them feel as if they’re bad, unworthy, and unlovable. Their inner child is saying, “Please love me” just like ours is.

When we feel a sense of shame, most often our attention is focused on fixing ourselves to fit into the standards of the world so we can be loved and accepted. By doing so, we often deny how we’re truly feeling and instead look for the “right things” to say and do, which keeps us from living our truth.

Instead of fixing ourselves to cover up how we’re truly feeling, we need to take the time to understand why we’re feeling, thinking, and acting how we do, which may be coming from past traumas, hurts, and wounds.

If we keep our shame hidden, we may feel stuck inside, which makes us feel stuck in our lives because our minds and bodies continue to react automatically from the past painful and unresolved experiences.

Not sure if you’re carrying deep shame? How much of this is true for you?
- You’re unable to find inner peace. Deep inside you don’t feel good enough, like there’s something’s wrong with you.
- You need to be loved and approved of by others in order to love and approve of yourself.
- You feel insecure and unworthy and constantly compare yourself to others.
- You see yourself and others through the lens of past painful experiences.
- You’re afraid to try new things, share your creativity, share how you’re truly feeling, or ask for what you want and need because you don’t feel worthy, or you’re afraid of feeling embarrassed or shamed.
- You mold yourself to try to fit in with what everyone else is doing instead of following what has true, heartfelt meaning for you.
- You often feel anxious and afraid, and you have a constant critical inner voice.
- You try to achieve as a way to prove that you’re worthy, valuable, and lovable.
Since being shamed makes us want to hide those parts of ourselves that were unacceptable, healing happens when we bring those parts into the light of awareness and embrace them with unconditional acceptance and love.

Healing starts to happen when we recognize and break free from the trance we’re living in. We do this by going to the root cause(s) of the shame and resolving that unresolved pain with compassion, love, and a new understanding.

Healing starts to happen when we learn how to be more compassionate with ourselves and instead of saying “Why can’t I just…?” We ask ourselves “What keeps me from…? How can I help that part feel seen, heard, understood, and loved?”

Healing starts to happen when we begin to uncover, discover, and embrace our natural qualities, talents, and abilities and allow those parts of us to be felt and seen.

Healing starts to happen when we learn how to speak to and treat ourselves in more kind, compassionate, and loving ways, and also believe that we’re worth it.

Please remember that healing is a process. Our system is conditioned to be a certain way, and our minds and bodies love to stay with what’s familiar. Working with our tender, hurting parts with love and compassion can help us break out of the trance of past hurt and wounds and experience what true love and inner peace really means.

So, instead of trying to get rid of the shame or cover it up, embrace the parts you’re ashamed of with unconditional acceptance and love. Let yourself and your inner child know that you are beautiful, valuable, and lovable as you are, even with your wounds and scars.
August 15, 2023
How I Stopped Feeling Unworthy of Love (And Finally Learned to Receive It)

“I hope you find love, but more importantly, I hope you’re strong enough to walk away from what love isn’t.” ~Tiffany Tomiko

When I was in my early thirties, I briefly dated someone right after my divorce.

It was one of those fast and furious things that had no label and left me wondering if I made most of it up in my head.

It wasn’t the first time and it wouldn’t be the last. How many times had I ended up feeling rejected and abandoned? I was trying so hard to impress a partner, but no matter what I did, I only seemed to push them away.

Tearfully, I shared my pain with a spiritual advisor and psychic and asked for her guidance.

She suggested I consider the joy that might come out of pleasurable and easeful partnerships. She asked me, “Briana, why don’t you shift your energy and focus to that aim?”

But it wasn’t so easy. I was attached and hung up on this guy. Why didn’t he love me like I loved him?

Another thought popped into my head, which I hadn’t realized was there before.

Before I could voice it out loud, she said, “Oooohhhh, Briana. I can hear you already. You think if you’re not in pain, then your art and other creative works won’t be any good.”

I burst out into another round of sobs.

Because it was true. I did think that way.

I thought I performed at my best when I was at my most miserable, and if you took away my misery, I would not only be common, but worse yet… mediocre. I would truly be the bad artist I always thought I was.

Every aspect of creative expression would become cliched, trite, and uninteresting. There wouldn’t be anything special about me.

And so I would become unlovable.

The drama proved my worth, one way or the other; the drama of performing well enough to earn love.

It wasn’t until four years after that conversation that I finally stopped clinging to my pain.

Because I realized that pain didn’t make something (love) more authentic—it just made it more difficult.

Maybe you know where I’m coming from. Maybe you feel that you, too, need to “chase” a relationship and suffer for it to really matter. For you to really matter.

That’s just not true. There is a far better way to build relationships, and that’s what I would previously have called “boring” and “too easy,” but actually is about respecting your own, authentic self and opening up to love.

Here’s what I’ve learned about letting go of feeling unworthy of love and finally learning how to receive it.

1. Take off your mask.

Like me, you might believe that to attract a lover and be worthy of love, you have to pretend to be a perfect partner, through things like making them feel wanted and desired, looking beautiful, and being funny, witty, smart, and interesting all the time.

All of these tactics might very well appeal to a potential partner. Certainly, it might make them interested enough to get to know you better, and maybe even date you for a while.

But none of that means it will soften their heart and make them fall into a soul-shaking relationship with you.

In fact, while I used to think that I needed to pretend that I was something I wasn’t so that I’d be worthy of love, I just kept deterring the other person.

Why?

Because while the glitz and glamour are appealing, it also, on a deeper level, left me completely unavailable.

In the same way, you are pushing away a partner by performing all the time.

You see, your partner is going to feel as if they have to perform just as well, and while that may be exciting in the beginning, unless the mask comes off, it also gets exhausting very quickly.

A loving partner will be less concerned about how many degrees you hold or how much you make at your job and more concerned that you’re passionate about what you’re doing.

A loving partner doesn’t care how many facts you can recite. They may enjoy your company if you’re a great conversationalist, but that won’t necessarily make them feel something for you.

The way to a partner’s heart is to make them feel safe enough to explore and experience their own authentic self.

You do that by feeling safe enough to express yourself—without someone else’s permission.

Because if you don’t communicate that you’re comfortable in your own skin, this partner won’t feel comfortable or safe opening up to you, either.

And if a person can’t open up to you, warts and all, they can’t fall in love with you. It’s as simple as that.

When you put on a performance instead of taking off your mask, you unconsciously communicate a fantasy of reality, because that feels safer than vulnerability. And then you energetically and non-verbally tell your partner that you can’t handle their vulnerability, either.

And isn’t it freeing? You, in all your vulnerability, are the person they want and need in order to be their own, true self.

2. Get in touch with your own feelings.

What many of us do when we feel unworthy of love is numb our emotions and pretend we feel something other than we actually do.

But a loving partner wants to know you’re angry when you’re angry and why you’re angry.

Guess what happens if you’re acting one way, while feeling something else? That’s right, drama.

If they think you’re angry, but they are not sure, because you’re trying hard to plaster a smile on your face, say, “I’m fine,” and stuff it down, you’re not really fooling anyone, just confusing them.

Your energy and your verbal expressions are going to contradict one another, and that is the seed of dramatic conflict.

And this type of drama is so annoying because you are effectively keeping a partner at bay, and refusing to connect with them, for fear that they wouldn’t like the “real” you.

But because they can’t access “the real” you, there’s no real glue holding them there, and they wind up leaving you anyway.

So show them what you feel, while letting go of the fear that they will reject you for doing so. By reconnecting with your emotions, you show up as your authentic self and make it safe for them to love you.

3. Be open to meeting someone with the same level of consciousness.

Around the end of August last year, I started dating someone. He wasn’t originally what I would have imagined for myself, but he turned out to be exactly what I need.

Right from the get-go, things went really well; we talked for hours on end, and I felt an instant connection.

There were butterflies, yes, but not the kind of gut-twisting, obsessive sensations I have had in the past, which usually means I should run.

This was more like, “Ah, you fit nicely… and kinda feel like home. What took you so long?”

He shows up with fresh flowers, texts me “good morning,” and sees the humor in situations like that time my cat got jealous and bit him when he tried to kiss me.

While before, I would have instantly dismissed this type of relationship as being too easy (and the lack of drama would have shown me that it wasn’t real love), I now see it for what it is:

A relationship in which partners join together from a place of inspiration, as opposed to a fear-based need to be filled up with the other.

This is a partner who already has a higher level of consciousness and is looking for purposeful building. There’s no drama, there’s no chasing, and there are no games or acts.

This is the key to feeling worthy of and receiving love—finding a partner who is open to the same. The criterion for attracting such a partner, however, is that you are ready to meet them.

I wasn’t ready four years ago. It took me that long to go from believing that relationships had to be a rollercoaster of emotions to opening up to a loving partnership.

Ultimately, it’s about you finding your authentic self and realizing that this version of you (the real version) is so worthy of love and should be loved. That’s the premise for a relationship that, instead of being soul-sucking and anxiety-ridden, is the perfect space for self-growth and joy.

May 27, 2021
What I’ve Learned Since My Years Feeling Stuck and Unlovable

This writing is in memory of my father, who—without knowing it—helped make me the man I am today.

When I was a young boy, my father seemed bigger than life, like most fathers seem to young sons. I looked at him in the same way that I imagine my son Jeremiah looked at me at that age—like a superhero, a towering giant who could fix anything, do anything, and make anything seem better than it was. We see what we want to see, until we don’t.

Life took him away from me very early in my life, so we never got to have the kinds of deep conversations that my son and I have had. We never shared a beer together. We never ran a half marathon together, never traveled the world together, never went camping, never attended baseball or football games together. My memories of him are very few, but I have one that will never fade.

I was about seven years old, and we were returning home from somewhere. We were laughing when he pulled into the driveway. He was good at making me laugh.

As we got out, and I looked at him over the roof of the car, all I could see was his head. My superhero dad seemed so small, with only a head and no body. As I chuckled, I slammed the car door shut with my thumb still in the door. Screaming at the top of my lungs, crying for him to fix it, I stood frozen, unable to move. What he did next remains forever etched in my mind.

Calmly and gently, but firmly, my father said, “JOSEPH—OPEN THE DOOR.”

At that point in my seven-year life, I had fallen, bumped, smashed, crashed, and broken quite a few objects and body parts. On those occasions when I’d hurt myself, I’d had seen the alarm in his eyes, sometimes panic. This time it was different. His eyes were still, quiet, and wise, as if he knew that he was passing down an important lesson, from a father to his son.

Life guarantees that things will go wrong and we’ll get hurt. Sometimes in those moments, we freeze or panic. The lesson that my father taught me is, when those things happen, get calm, breathe—and OPEN THE DOOR.

My dad reminded me that I have the knowledge, the ability, and the strength to handle the situation. So, I did, I opened the door and I was free.

Thanks, Dad.

But, despite his lesson, I wasn’t always free. For much of my life, I was painfully stuck.

I was conceived by two people who loved each other enough to deliver my brother and me into the world and create a family. Out of his sons, I was my father’s favorite. As it turned out, he and my mother discovered that they weren’t right for each other and chose separate paths. It’s a very familiar story.

Some in my family have suggested that my father was not equipped, not in the state of mind to be the best example for me. I’ll never know. He took the divorce very hard and was not allowed to see us after they separated. My last memories of him were watching him sit in his car crying outside of our house. Without my father, I felt alone.

We moved every year. My mother struggled to raise two boys in Los Angeles, California, on a secretary’s salary. Most landlords wouldn’t allow us to renew the lease, since most months we were late with rent. My brother and I never knew about that—her way of protecting us.

Being the new kid meant you were bullied—unless the other kids thought you were crazy, in which case, they’d leave you alone. I learned early on to pick a fight with the biggest kid on the playground on the first day of school, even if I’d get pulverized, which was the case a fair amount of the time.

I ran away from home a few times. I thought, If I could just find my dad then everything would be alright. I hadn’t yet been told that he was dead.

The cause listed on his death certificate I would later find was suicide.

Alcohol and sleeping pills were apparently somewhat common during that era. I found out three years after he died, when I was in ninth grade—again, my mother’s way of protecting us.

Although I was a decent student—passing my freshman year with a B+ average—I didn’t feel good enough, ever. When I was fifteen, my mother dropped me off at the local police station. From there, I was sent to juvenile hall and sent to live at a boy’s home for troubled youth, called, at the time, The Pacific Lodge Boys Home.

Woodland Hills, California was a strange place for a boy’s home. We attended the local public high school, for some sense of normal life. That worked in theory, but kids can be very cruel. We were referred to as “the Lodge Boys” by the other kids and reminded daily that we were not “normal” kids.

Friends were hard to come by, unless they were from the Lodge. So, most of us just hung out with each other; it created a bond between us. If someone from school messed with a Lodge Boy—and they usually did—we all came running. We called ourselves The Band of Wayward Brothers.

The daily schedule at the Lodge was designed around individual counseling and occasional family group counseling sessions, with the eventual goal of reuniting each boy into his family unit. I knew I’d never be allowed to return home, that I’d live at the Lodge until I turned eighteen, alone, with no family, no tribe, and no one to belong to—a throw-away child no one wanted.

One minute you belonged to something—be it healthy or dysfunctional, it’s your tribe, your family—and the next minute, it’s taken away. You’re suddenly, unexpectedly, bewilderedly alone. After losing my dad as a child, I felt alone. Now I truly was lost.

The multiple-dorm residential facility had several counselors who worked and slept there during their shifts. One of my counselors, Cane, was a social worker. He was a warm, laid-back surfer guy, and was always nice.

Cane seemed to genuinely care and never judged us. I was horrible to him. Most of us were. We were a group of angry, hurt boys who felt alone in the world, deposited in a home for troubled youth.

Out of the hundred or so kids at the Lodge that Christmas, only two of us were not welcomed to be with our family for the holiday. My friend Patrick and I wouldn’t be going home, which meant that our counselor Cane, whose shift was that night, had to stay at the dorm with just the two of us, instead being of home for Christmas with his family.

Little did we know, Cane had asked, and was granted permission, to take Patrick and me off campus for Christmas. We didn’t know what we were getting into, but it was better than being at the Lodge.

Cane picked us up on Christmas Eve, and off we went on what he called “Cane’s Christmas Present Run,” visiting friends of his to exchange presents and holiday wishes. Not once did any one of them make us feel awkward for being there, even though they knew where we were from.

The day ended at his mother’s house with a homemade Christmas dinner and all the fixings. It was a real family meal with lots of food and lots of people, none of whom made either of us feel left out or unwelcome.

Cane and his mother gave presents to Patrick and me—no ugly sweaters or generic or cheap items; genuine gifts they put thought into selecting just for us. I had never known that kind of generosity. I didn’t understand it. I’ll never forget that day for as long as I live.

When he brought us back the next day, I asked him why he was being so nice to me. He said, “My job, Joe, is to love you enough, until the day comes when you are able to love yourself that much.”

I have never forgotten his words, though I did not know what they meant at that time. Children tend to blame themselves when they’re abandoned, studies have found. The overwhelming feelings of not being worth loving and not having enough value to another can, and do, severely affect a child’s sense of worth and self.

My life changed that day. That day Cane planted a tiny seed in the back of my mind that maybe, just maybe, I was lovable. That maybe, if I loved myself enough first, someone would love the man I had grown into.

And there was my father’s lesson again: I just had to open the door and let love in, from others and myself.

I have had my ups and my downs.

I’ve been homeless to homeowner. Not an easy task in California.

Unemployable to a nationally recognized business owner.

Poor and broke, to not having to worry about being evicted.

A fifteen-year-old throwaway child to a sitting board member of the San Diego Center for Children I affectionately call The Pacific Lodge Boys Home South.

A lost boy, to world traveler, knowing now that not all those who wander are lost.

To the next generation of Wayward Brothers and Sisters, or anybody who feels lost or stuck, here is what I have learned along the way. I hope it helps you.

1. Good people make bad decisions; that doesn’t make them bad people, it just makes it a bad decision.

2. Forgive easily and often, others and especially yourself. I enjoy an amazing relationship with my mother today. Refer to rule number 1.

3. You are not broken, and therefore do not need “fixing.” You are perfect, just the way you are. Just as Cane pointed out, I was worth loving. And so are you!

4. Life rewards the brave, so be brave. Take a chance, on yourself and others. It would have been extremely easy to sink into a hole and let my life go sideways and blame others for it. Bravery is choosing not to be a victim of your circumstances and instead, proactively create your life.

5. Love yourself first with all your heart and be your own best friend. Those around you will benefit.

6. Just because someone says it, doesn’t mean it’s true. They have the right to an opinion, but you also have the right to choose to not believe it. Life told me I was unlovable. Cane proved them wrong.

7. Happiness is a choice, not a place, thing, moment, or a person. Only you can make you happy.

8. Everything happens for a reason, so figure out why. There are no mistakes in life, only lessons.

9. Lastly, and most importantly, OPEN THE DOOR AND SET YOURSELF FREE!

May 25, 2020
5 Vital Lessons for People Who Feel Like They’re Not Good Enough

“What if I fall? Oh, my darling, what if you fly?” ~Erin Hanson

Like most people, my life has had its share of ups and downs.

My household growing up could be best described as a roller coaster. There were times of excitement and happiness, then there was the plummeting into darkness, shame, and self-loathing.

Throughout my childhood and adolescence, I felt that I was a mistake, unloved, and unwanted by my father. His mood swings and verbal abuse would come raging like a storm without any warning, and without any end in sight.

He often told me that I wasn’t good enough and that I was the reason for all of his problems.

I was often frightened to go home and face him. When my mother would have to go out of town, I would insist on staying with a friend because I didn’t feel safe being alone with him.

I was extraordinarily lucky to have such a warm and loving mother that provided me the love and support I needed to keep going. Despite all of her good intentions and love, though, I still found myself falling into a deep hole of depression and severe anxiety.

Some of the happier times that I remember from my childhood were the years that I was in gymnastics. It made me feel alive and free to express myself.

However, that too slowly led to destruction, as soon I began competing. My obsessive need to please others caused me such significant levels of anxiety that I decided to quit. I was only twelve, and my dreams of becoming an elite gymnast were over.

Though it was a good decision to move on from that life, I was still left with this feeling of shame because I couldn’t mentally handle the pressure. I felt that I had let everyone down, including myself.

Also, without this release, my anxiety levels continued to increase, leaving me feeling on edge and awkward in my social interactions.

As I entered adolescence, I found it harder and harder to put myself out there, in fear that others would judge me. I worried that they would think I wasn’t good enough, cool enough, skinny enough, smart enough, or pretty enough.

I eventually created this hard exterior to prevent people from getting in and knowing the real me.

I believed for a long time that this wall was there to protect me; however, all it did was prevent me from building relationships with others, or even a relationship with myself.

For many years I self-medicated in various ways to deal with the pain and to allow myself to let my guard down just enough to find a solid, small groups of friends.

It wasn’t long before I became so depressed and anxious that my family doctor put me on medications to “fix me.” They numbed me so much, though, that I medicated myself on top of that to feel alive, which of course was a recipe for disaster.

After years of taking these medications, I couldn’t function without them. I’m became so desperate to feel alive that I took myself off of them cold turkey. This was not a pleasant experience. I went through a period where I secluded myself away from my friends and family and fell back into old habits.

I eventually managed to pull myself out of that hole after some intense therapy and self-reflection; however, I still struggled daily with my depression and anxiety.

Fast forward several years, after I graduated from my Masters program, and I found myself happily married, spending time with my close knit friends again, and working daily on myself.

I had finally cut out everything negative in my life except for chain-smoking cigarettes, and then I became pregnant with our first child.

My husband and I were ecstatic, but making that final step to quit smoking so suddenly threw me for a loop. Since it wasn’t just me now, I made the decision to try something new, yoga.

At first it was hard, boring, and frustrating. I didn’t get it. I kept going, though, and about the time I was six months pregnant I was finally getting the hang of it.

I didn’t just like it; I loved it! It has been just over five years since I walked into that first yoga class, and I am so thankful for everything it has taught me.

Here are the top five ways that I believe yoga has saved my sanity. It taught me that:

1. Practice makes progress.

For someone that struggles with perfectionism, this mantra has been a lifesaver.

When I first started my practice, I felt frustrated because I couldn’t make my poses look like the advanced yogis in the room. The reality was that those yogis didn’t accomplish those moves in their first class. It took time, patience, and self-acceptance to get there, and those poses could continue to progress from there.

There is no such thing as perfect but rather always room for growth. Striving for perfection is a no-win battle in all aspects of life, for perfection is a defining wall that we create in our own minds.

2. We have to acknowledge our own successes.

I have never been one to take compliments well. I doubted them and worried that they were insincere.

Even as I became stronger in my practice, I didn’t feel secure enough to attempt difficult poses in a class full of people. I feared that someone would find flaws in them or think I was a show-off.

It wasn’t until about a year ago that I finally decided to just go for it. Since I made that leap, I have been able to grow so much more in my confidence and praise for myself.

If you can’t be proud of yourself, how can you expect others to be?

3. We need to surround ourselves with positive, happy people.

Ever heard of the phrase “You become who you surround yourself with”?

The yoga community is filled with joy, support, and kindness everywhere you turn. Although I am still not the most outgoing or social person, I embrace the positive energy every day when I am in a yoga class.

Everyone there has come there for a purpose—to better themselves. We all have our own stuff going on in our lives, but have taken a moment to come together and to take care of ourselves.

4. We can conquer our fears.

The first time I saw someone in crow pose, I convinced myself that I could never do something that difficult. I just knew I would fall on my face and everyone would laugh at me. I resisted even attempting it because I was scared of failure.

The thing is, though, sometimes we have to fall to then pick ourselves back up and try again.

Once I started practicing and finding success, I become braver every day on my mat and found that I could, in fact, accomplish much more than I ever believed I could. We are stronger than we think we are.

5. It’s okay to let ourselves be vulnerable.

There is a moment at the end of every yoga class when you lie on your mat in shavasana, with your eyes closed, and just breathe.

The idea of surrendering yourself in a room full of strangers is terrifying. This pose has taken me forever to feel comfortable in. It taught me that it is okay and actually good for the body and mind to let it all go and just be. This is when you can find peace within yourself.

—

It has now been twenty years since I quit my gymnastics career, and I have finally found something that has allowed me to get that same sense of freedom that I once felt as a child.

I know that every day after I finish my yoga class, I have let go of the enormous amount of tension that I constantly carry with me, and I feel content, relaxed, empowered, and proud of myself for what I have just accomplished.

I truly believe that yoga has saved my sanity and taught me how to love and respect myself. But you don’t need to go to a yoga class to learn these lessons. You can make the choice to let go of the pressure, tackle your fears, and celebrate yourself for being bold, brave, and vulnerable.

Sad woman image via Shutterstock

January 26, 2015
The Real Reason Some People Always Seem to Push Your Buttons

“Our sorrows and wounds are healed only when we touch them with compassion.” ~Buddha

I always felt invisible whenever my husband and I got together with a certain couple.

Every time we saw them, it triggered feelings of rejection because they would go on and on about themselves and never ask about how I was doing or feeling. I went home feeling ignored and sad every time.

Finally, after putting up with this non-reciprocal relationship for a number of years, I decided that it was best for us to break free from it.

For the longest time I couldn’t figure out why this self-absorbed behavior bothered me so much.

Eventually, the light bulb went off and I realized I kept hoping that one day this couple would validate me, in the same way that I kept hoping and hoping that one day my father would validate me.

You see, my biggest negative childhood trauma was feeling invisible and unworthy of my father’s love. So anytime someone, like this couple, ignores me and I feel invisible, the little girl inside me feels pain.

You may have people that trigger the young vulnerable parts of you, leading you to feel unloved, unworthy, and invisible.

This little girl that is frozen in time in my psyche felt worthless and not enough.

She eventually had had enough of me ignoring her, and she sought redemption by making me have a two-year battle with depression, anxiety, and panic attacks.

Antidepressants and therapy took the edge off, but they didn’t heal the source of the hurt.

I was searching for answers on how to permanently get rid of emotional scars, like a gardener looking for a way to dig up and discard the roots of stubborn weeds. My search ended when I discovered a little known powerful, rapid, and different method of healing emotional scars through self-led re-parenting and unburdening young parts of toxic memories.

The young parts of you that hold negative emotions of shame, guilt, rejection, abandonment, and unworthiness need the love and reassurance from you that they never got when they first experienced negative events.

I went back into the old toxic experiences that created the faulty beliefs that I was unlovable, unworthy, and not enough. I “re-parented” that little girl by telling her she is lovable, worthy, and enough.

I explained to her that Dad didn’t know how to show his love. He was acting from his wounded parts, and that’s why she grew up in an environment that was filled with emotional misery.

The little girl now understands what happened, and she’s able to believe that she is worthy, enough, and lovable because I told her she was. She is no longer frozen in time and has come into the present with me, where she resides in my heart.

As a result of loving this young part, I recovered from depression, anxiety, and panic attacks for good.

I also stepped into my father’s shoes and now know that validating me is something he was not capable of, because of his upbringing. I have forgiven him and now have compassion for him instead of anger.

I am so thankful that this couple was in my life. They gave me the gift of identifying my most painful emotional wound.

Who pushes your buttons? What is the gift they are giving you to help you identify your most painful wounds?

This re-parenting technique that resulted in unconditionally loving myself has positively and permanently shifted my happiness set point and boosted my self-esteem and confidence.

Nothing is holding me back from being happy now and in the journey to living to my potential and making a difference.

My wounded part showed up as depression. Your wounded parts may show up as health and weight challenges; addictions such as eating too much, drinking too much, shopping too much, and procrastination; self-sabotage; anger; perfectionism; or overachievement.

The following steps will help you heal your emotional scars at their source, delete the limiting beliefs that keep you stuck, and reprogram your brain with positive beliefs.

1. Identify who triggers you.

Which feelings do they trigger? Who is the parent, teacher, sibling, or old boyfriend/girlfriend with whom you originally felt this way?

2. Step into this person’s shoes.

Understand how much pain they are in from their own past. This will help you have compassion for them and forgive them.

3. Access the young part of you that acquired the faulty beliefs as a result of interactions with this person.

Examples of faulty negative core beliefs are: “I’m not lovable,” “I’m not enough,” “I’m not worthy,” and “I’ll never amount to anything.”

4. Recall a scene that made you believe you were bad.

Be with that part and give it the love and reassurance that it never got when that event happened. Tell it that it is lovable, worthy, and enough. Soak in the image of your loving self of today kissing, loving, and hugging this young part.

5. Unburden yourself of the original negative feelings and beliefs.

Imagine the ocean washing away the faulty beliefs of “I’m not lovable,” “I’m not worthy,” and “I’m not enough.” This energetically releases the bad memories and beliefs from your body.

6. Bring that young part into the present.

Have it be part of your team to move you forward and be happy.

Healing myself through this technique has allowed me to create a new narrative for my life story. I now believe the Universe purposely gave me negative experiences for the evolution of my soul.

These events gave me the gift of finding my life’s calling.

You too can figure out your life’s mission by healing your emotional scars first. Then you can figure out the new narrative that helps you make lemonade out of your lemons. As a result, you can live fully with joy and purpose before you die.

When you heal the emotional scars that keep you unhappy, you can significantly improve your happiness set point and positively change the course of your life.

So, if you have people that push your buttons, thank them for being in your life. They are a gift because they help you find the source of your deepest wounds, which hold you back from being shameless and confidently showing up as the happiest version of you.

Do you have emotional scars that are triggered by certain people?

June 1, 2014