Tag: wisdom
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Why We Need to Put Ourselves First and Prioritize Our Own Happiness
“Putting yourself first is not selfish. Quite the opposite. You must put your happiness and health first before you can be of use to anyone else.” ~Simon Sinek
If you’re someone who cares deeply for the people in your life, you may want to do anything you can for them. This devotion isn’t always reciprocated. Not to say we should only think of things in a transactional nature, but sometimes we can selflessly give ourselves away to people who are careless with our own needs.
It often leaves us feeling like we’re being taken advantage of.
It often leaves us feeling depleted, empty, and resentful.
It often leaves us feeling like we’re trying to make everyone else happy, yet we’re miserable.
Instead of doing things because we want to do them, we end up doing them because we’re attempting to make others happy.
These are the moments that eat me alive. I end up sticking around a project far longer than I should because I’m worried about what it will mean for the other person.
For the last year, I’ve been producing a weekly podcast with a friend. When we started it gave me purpose and joy, and I loved to work on it. But now? It feels like work I dread. I think about wanting to quit all the time. It’s an energy suck on my life. And all I can think of is, will they be unhappy with me if I tell them I don’t want to do the podcast anymore?
I’m guessing we’ve all done this before—base our happiness on the happiness of others. We think…
My parents won’t be happy unless I become a doctor, so I’ll go to medical school.
My partner won’t be happy unless I prioritize their career over mine, so I’ll give up on my dreams.
My kids won’t be happy unless I devote every waking moment to their needs, so I’ll sacrifice my sense of self.
My friends won’t be happy unless I drop everything when they need me, so I’ll put my life on hold.
My family won’t be happy unless I am the person they want me to be, so I’ll put their needs first.
My cat won’t be happy unless… cats will *never* be happy. Much like most of the people who expect you to do these things for them. If they attach an expectation, you aren’t dealing with someone who values your worth and what’s meaningful to you.
They’re looking at you as a means to something they want. This isn’t saying that’s a “bad” person, it’s the reality of being a human. There’s software running in the background that is based on self-preservation. It is universal among all living organisms.
This software doesn’t exactly serve us in situations like this because it does everything it can to avoid pain and fear. And that’s exactly what’s keeping us stuck in these circumstances. We don’t want to cause pain in others, and we sure as hell don’t want to experience pain ourselves. And we fear what will happen if we say no to these people and prioritize our own needs.
Will our parents stop loving us?
Will our partner leave us?
Will our kids suffer?
Will our friends stop being our friends?
Will our family start to ignore us?
Will my cat still love me?
It’s normal to have feelings of pain and fear.
That’s worth emphasizing because you might think that the pain and fear are unique to your situation. It’s not. Pain and fear are a normal part of life.
If we can see the choices we make through this lens of pain and fear, we can better understand why others are perhaps projecting their pain and fear onto us and our decisions.
This is where it takes some courage. The only way things will ever change is if you stand up for yourself (because nobody else will). Stand up like you would for someone you love or a cause you care about. Stand up like your survival depends on it… because it does.
It’s not selfish to put yourself first (what you want to do with your life). It’s selfish to expect others to put you and your needs first (what others want you to do with your life).
I have a kid on the way. And thinking of her being here has forced me to think of my happiness differently. If I’m working on projects that feel like they’re robbing me of my time, I’m willingly sacrificing the kind of dad I want to be—present and grounded. The poor kid would be left with a warm body and a mind that is elsewhere racing with anxiety because I’m focused on making others happy.
You could do nothing with the hopes of avoiding pain and fear, but it will invite a lifetime of regret. This is the equivalent of death by a thousand paper cuts. You lose your sense of identity, your life feels meaningless, and you drift aimlessly in a life that is not yours.
This.
Is.
It.
There are no do-overs.
No second chances.
You don’t get to do this life all over again.
So don’t waste your days living someone else’s life.
In the end, I decided that who I want to be as a father is a hell of a lot more important to me than a project. And much like most things we avoid in life, I had turned the decision into something far more complicated than it needed to be. It was a lesson learned from Dr Seuss who wrote, “Those who mind don’t matter, and those who matter don’t mind”
Those who matter want to see you happy.
They’re not the ones holding you back. They’re the cheerleaders of your life who ask you, who do you want to become?
Commit to living your answer. It’s not selfish. It’s prioritizing your happiness.
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How I’ve Released the Heavy Weight of My Persistent Guilt
“No amount of guilt can change the past and no amount of worry can change the future.” ~Umar
Every emotion is felt by the body in a different way.
Pain can be sharp and biting, with a desire to lash out. Anxiety can also be sharp and biting, but with a desire to lash within. Sadness can feel like your body turning into stone, making every step seem impossible.
We all feel these emotions at times, but holding onto them is what causes damage. We must learn to shed them, as any “negative” emotion, if held on for too long, can release toxins that destroy our bodies over time.
Often, emotions like anger and anxiety and even sadness are symptoms of a more destructive emotion that destroys the human spirit. Robs us of our joy. And is unquestionably the heaviest of all emotional sensations we feel.
That emotion is guilt. An emotion I carried around for so many years that was the root cause of many other destructive emotions I felt.
Before I went on this journey within, I was always vacillating between feeling anger and anxiety. After I started clearing my mind, I spent several months letting go of both emotions, only to determine both were manifestations of the guilt I was carrying around inside.
Once I realized that, my focus changed to defeating guilt. My first step there: understanding what guilt is.
Sure, I knew what guilt felt like. After all, I had carried around different forms of guilt all of my life. But I didn’t really understand what guilt was.
So, I began to dig. I knew what caused guilt: doing something wrong. But why did doing something wrong make me feel guilty?
To figure that out, I started analyzing the feelings around the guilt, which is really a persistent feeling of “I should’ve …” or “I shouldn’t have…”
For example, I should’ve been nicer to the customer service rep. I shouldn’t have made fun of that person behind their back. I should’ve remembered that person’s birthday.
Additionally, I realized guilt stayed with me far longer than other emotions. Anger, for instance, came and went. But guilt persisted.
That’s when it clicked, and I understood what guilt really is: denial. Persistent denial. And that meant the antidote to guilt was obvious: acceptance.
I realized that to solve guilt, I had to accept what had happened. It’s that simple.
I’ll give an example to illustrate my point.
A couple of years ago, an older man I’m friends with got into a motorcycle accident and suffered a severe neck injury. After a week in the hospital and then several weeks recovering at home, he was able to walk again, and he had me and several other people over to his home for dinner to celebrate.
Our friend was wearing a neck brace and was taking painkillers, which made him a bit woozy. After dinner, we were sitting around his coffee table, and he stood up and walked over to get a bowl of chips. My feet were in his path, I was talking with someone else, and he tripped over them.
Thankfully, a person was alert and caught him before he fell. Otherwise, he would’ve seriously injured himself. Maybe even died.
Thank God he was okay. But I felt incredible guilt about tripping him, which I carried for several years. In my mind, all I wanted was to redo that moment and move my feet out of his path. I kept replaying in my head what I should’ve done.
To move past this, I had to accept what had happened, without self-judgment: I didn’t mean to hurt him. I just wasn’t paying attention. So I tripped him. And nearly killed him.
That’s what happened; nothing I can do about it.
It’s therapeutic, in this moment, to write that out. It’s full acceptance of what actually happened. And it also makes the lesson of the situation obvious—I need to be more aware of my surroundings.
Now, the truth is, I’ve done far worse things than accidentally trip a man. But still, the process is the same.
That’s one form of guilt, which is usually brought on by a horrible outcome. There’s also another form of guilt I needed to shed, which was far more common and persistent.
This guilt revolved around my relationships with other people.
What do I mean by this?
Here’s one example. Previously, when I hung out with people socially, I almost always had a headache afterward.
This headache, I later realized, was caused by guilt.
See, when I would hang out with people socially, I’d really want them to have a good time. I’d put pressure on myself to be “on” and to keep them entertained the whole night.
After the night would end, I’d beat myself up for all the perceived mistakes I made. Wish I would’ve said this or said that, done this or done that. I’d literally feel guilty about not being entertaining enough.
To remove this guilt, I needed to come clean with myself and accept the truth. Yes, I wasn’t entertaining every minute of the night. Maybe the people did have a bad time. So what?
Perhaps they’d never hang out with me again, sure. But, honestly, the bigger issue was why was I putting so much pressure on myself in the first place. I’m not responsible for them having a good time; I’m only responsible for myself having a good time. And this pressure was robbing me of that.
That realization helped me shed my guilt in social situations.
Beyond feelings of guilt from hanging out with people generally, there were specific people in my life I felt guilty around.
Often, I saw people I cared about who were struggling with some demon. Rather than accept them and the situation they were in, I was constantly wishing they would magically rid themselves of all impurities and never be sad again, and thought it was my job to help them with this.
This created guilt, because I wasn’t accepting who they actually were and the situation they were in. I was always wishing for it to change. This put them on the defensive and made it hard for me to help in a meaningful way.
The second thing I began to realize is, yes, they were struggling. But then again, wasn’t I struggling too?
It was ironic, really. Here I was, feeling guilty about other people’s struggles. And yet, I had my own struggles in front of me that I wasn’t addressing
It reminds me of these conversations I have with this couple I’m close with. I’ll talk to the husband one-on-one, and he’ll list the things he wishes his wife should work on, and how he feels bad for her. Then I’ll talk to the wife one-on-one, and she’ll list the things her husband should work on, and how she feels bad for him.
They both feel bad about something they have no control over while ignoring their own issues, which they have complete control over. I always laugh to myself when they start doing this.
And yet, I was doing the exact same thing.
The realization: I needed to stop trying to save other people because I can’t. They will do what they do, and all I can do is accept them for who they are.
Instead, I realized I needed to focus on what I actually have control over, which is “saving” myself.
As I continued on this journey, I began to see how much guilt I was carrying around in my mind. Which is to say, how much mind space I was dedicating to rethinking what I should’ve said or done in various situations from my past.
This, I’m now realizing, is complete madness. I cannot change the past. I must accept it.
I admit, accepting my full past can be painful at times. There are some dark things I’d rather not address. But it’s far better than wasting my life trying to redo something that already happened.
The good news? By accepting the difficult parts of my past, I’m able to quickly glean insights from those mistakes. And that’s further helped me remove attachments and clear my mind.
The point: Guilt is just denial. The reason it’s so heavy is because our denial prevents us from processing the reality of the situation in a meaningful way.
To process reality, we must first accept it, which sheds the guilt. And then, as we process what happened, we can learn from it and move forward.
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Why I Felt Broken and Unworthy of Love and What Changed Everything
“How people treat other people is a direct reflection of how they feel about themselves.” ~Paulo Coelho
He used to tell me no one else would love me because I’m damaged goods.
And I believed him.
Because I received messages for most of my life that there was something wrong with me.
I wasn’t good enough. Too sensitive. Too weak. Too sickly. Too different.
I realize now those messages were passed on to me by concerned parents who saw in me parts of themselves they didn’t fully accept.
And those messages were from parents whose own parents had used criticism as a way to motivate them to do better. They didn’t know another way. They were just trying to help me succeed.
But my little HSP soul took it to heart. I took it literally.
Then I ventured into the world as an adult choosing romantic partners who confirmed every single belief I’d held about myself since my developmental years.
This is a common cycle we perpetuate when we’re not aware that programmed conditioning is running the show.
I attracted romantic partners that played out all the emotional dysregulation from my family of origin—to confirm to me that everything my caregivers had told me was indeed true.
But I was also looking for someone to give me the love and acceptance I felt I had been lacking my whole life. I thought that would finally make me feel “normal.” I thought I would finally feel whole.
Almost a decade ago, when I was in the worst (and most dangerous) romantic situation of my life, I tried to leave.
Looking back, my friends told me they were truly concerned for my safety and my life while I was in that relationship.
I had stayed because I felt that I deserved the treatment I received. That if someone who said they loved me spoke to me the way that he did, there must be a good reason.
Although deep down inside, I had an inkling that this didn’t feel right. That perhaps being on my own was better than feeling terrible in this relationship.
When I finally stood up for myself, he made sure I knew that if I left, I’d be destined to suffer alone forever because no one else would be willing to love a broken soul like me, and that I would indeed suffer greatly.
He told me over and over again until I broke. Until I believed him.
It took two whole years to finally free myself.
In the end, what helped was seeking professional support—a wonderful counselor who helped me see that the situation I was in was harming me.
Truly, my soul was dying. I was becoming a shell of who I was, and I hate to think where I’d be now had I stayed.
The counselor helped me come to a new agreement with myself of what I was willing to tolerate in my life.
It was the first step in an awakening to some important truths I hadn’t seen before.
And I then committed to the inner healing.
I spent many a moment in a sobbing mess on my yoga mat.
I sat with the emotions that came up, even if they were uncomfortable. The fear, shame, guilt, anger. All of it.
I listened to the messages these tough emotions had for me. And there were many.
I met and befriended my inner child and realized she was scared. And that the only person that could really give her the assurance and comfort she truly desired was me.
I had a dark night of the soul. My second (of three to date). Just as uncomfortable as the first.
Just as the initial one had, this dark night delivered a deep realization that the path I was on was not leading me in a direction of my truth. I was moving away from my own inner light, not toward it.
It was the jolt I needed to change. It was then that I finally mustered the strength to leave and not turn back.
I didn’t yet know where I was going, but I knew it was going to be a different direction than where I had been. It had to be.
I had changed my perspective about myself, and as a result, my life changed completely
The people who then showed up were of a completely different caliber. Supportive, encouraging, and accepting of me for who I am: quirks and all.
Or rather, I stopped letting in the wounded who didn’t accept me in all my bright, shiny perfect imperfection. I created new boundaries that prevented those uncomfortable with my light from trying to destroy it.
As a result, I created more room around me for people who shine themselves.
I’m now in a healthy, emotionally stable, and incredibly supportive relationship. It’s like night and day. I can see the difference now, and the contrast is remarkable.
I now see that those manipulations and insults my ex threw at me were his way to control me because he didn’t feel in control himself. It was his coping mechanism.
This behavior was most likely modeled to him from his own family of origin. This is how wounds are passed down.
But at the time I didn’t understand, because I was taking in those comments from a completely different perspective.
I was hearing those comments from the belief that there was something wrong with me, and so I assumed what he was saying to me was the truth.
Please know, beautiful soul, that you are worthy of love in every way—especially and most importantly love from yourself.
Anyone who tells you otherwise is coming from a place of woundedness. Do not let them pull you into their wounds.
Stay in your light. Stay strong to your truth.
Some may think your light is too bright, but that’s because it illuminates the wounds they’re not yet ready to face.
As a result, they’ll try to dull your light to protect themselves.
The ones who are meant for you will love your unique brightness and encourage more of it.
Because they also live their truth and shine their light bright, and they understand the importance of supporting others to do the same.
My love does this every single day.
He doesn’t think I’m broken—he thinks I’m beautiful, inside and out.
He knows I have wounds.
And the lessons I’ve learned and strength I’ve gathered because of those wounds makes me wiser.
He loves that about me. The emotional maturity I’ve gained through my journey makes me that much more appealing to him.
And I’ve also come to realize on my journey that I don’t need his love or anyone else’s in order to find my own within. That’s the most important lesson of them all.
You’re not broken, lovely human. Don’t let anyone convince you otherwise.
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How I’ve Eased My Anxiety by Being More Present: 4 Practices to Try
“Breathe. Let go. And remind yourself that this very moment is the only one you know you have for sure.” ~Oprah Winfrey
In 2012, during my community college years, I began to experience mild anxiety.
I assume it was the stress and fear that came with maintaining a good GPA in hope of transferring to a well-known university, alongside deciding what I wanted to do for the rest of my life. Or perhaps it was because of the time I knew I’d wasted slacking in high school to fit in with what I was surrounded by and to preserve my loud-mouthed drama-seeking status.
The next few years, I thought about the past and future a lot, cried, and grasped for many breaths during anxiety attacks near the campus pond.
In late 2016 I faced my first severe anxiety attack in the laundry room of my parents’ home while sitting against the washing machine and holding onto my legs curled up against my chest.
For the first time ever, I felt a heavy pain in the core of my body as if there were rocks piling up all the way to my throat and closing my airway to breathe. I had never felt so disheartened, lost, empty, and hopeless.
Soon, my anxiety attacks got to the point where I faced numbing and tingling sensations in my head, face, hands, and feet.
It wasn’t until countless severe anxiety attacks in that I had a glimpse of awareness behind my ongoing stream of thoughts. I found that I was experiencing stress and fear about what had happened in the past or would happen in the future and realized that I’d lost the present moment.
Many of us face day-to-day suffering through anxiety. We worry about progressing in our careers, getting an education, making a decent income, being there for our families, putting food on the table, and always working toward a means to an end.
I realized that many of us are constantly on the run to the future trying to be certain about what’s next, and if we slip and fall along the way, we worry about why it happened, which takes us into the past—eventually emerging from an egoic-state of fears, wants, needs, and expectations. That was me.
There’s always going to be something new that we’ll want, need, and expect while trying to stay up to par with the people and situations that surround us. We’ll spend a lot of time sulking over setbacks, failures, and loss. Ultimately, suffering from stress and anxiety will bury what we’re meant to experience, learn, and grow from in this moment, the present moment. Because we can’t fully immerse ourselves in this moment if we’re worrying about the next or regretting the one prior.
I’ve spent the last few years exploring, reading, learning, and practicing how to heal stress and anxiety with the simple, yet profound practice of being present, conscious, and aware.
With this practice, I’ve strengthened my ability to acknowledge and allow suffering to take its course when facing life’s inevitable difficulties and challenges.
The following are a handful of ways I practice presence, which has not only dissolved my anxiety, but also awakened my gratitude for the great joy and peace we can experience once we become conscious and aware in this moment.
4 Ways to Practice Presence
1. Practice non-judgment, non-attachment, and non-resistance.
You can lose yourself into the past and future when you’re judging, getting attached to, and resisting what is. This is because we become fixated on our wants, needs, and expectations of the moment instead of fully experiencing it. If we want to minimize our suffering, we need to be here in the present moment and allow what is to be and pass.
I know this practice is easier said than done.
I’ve had days where I was over the moon with immense joy during moments of achievements, when sharing laughs with family, and while celebrating milestones like my wedding. I also became attached, wanting the moments to last forever and feeling saddened that they had to come to an end.
On the contrary, I’ve also had days where I felt gutted and devastated over the loss of my dad, and I couldn’t help but judge and resist the experience of losing him. I had expected him to be around for future milestones and heartfelt moments.
Yet, I’ve learned that moments are undeniably and inevitably temporary. Joy doesn’t last forever, but neither does pain. Allow the painful moments to be and pass and truly savor the good ones with your presence and full attention.
Practice being and experiencing this moment as it is without judgment, attachment, and resistance. Enjoy the good moments and learn and grow from the ones that aren’t that great.
This will allow you to surrender to and accept the process and flow of life, which is the key to decreasing your suffering.
2. Focus on your breath.
Realize that you have no control over your past or future breath, only the one in this moment right now. Similarly, you have no control over what happened in the past and can never be certain of the future.
In many experiences in life, from meditation, yoga, exercise regimes, and sports to childbirth and even suffering, we’re always reminded to just breathe. It’s the breath that guides us into the present moment where the actual being and doing is.
Try your best to concentrate on the inhaling and exhaling momentum at a gentle and patient pace throughout your day. It’s a form of meditation that can be done anywhere and anytime to dissolve any stress and anxiety you face.
I practice this throughout my day all the time whether I’m at work or on the couch, just to redirect my focus into the now, especially when I become aware of nonstop thoughts, which can set the stage for suffering.
This practice brings you out of your head and into your body and allows you to immediately shift your focus away from your worries, fears, and regrets.
3. Immerse yourself in nature.
Have you ever felt immense peace while looking at the sunrise or sunset and a calmness when around trees, flowers, plants, rivers, lakes, and waterfalls?
When you’re with nature, you instantly become connected to its stillness, silence, and simplicity.
Even during the roughest storms, nature reminds us to become in sync with what is to allow the storm to take its course and pass.
To be in nature, you don’t have to go far. Step into the backyard or take a walk around the block. Pay attention to the beauty of the flowers or the rustling wind in the trees and embrace the peace and joy that arises from it.
You’ll find that nature truly has a way of reconnecting you to this moment.
4. Be grateful and trust what is.
So grateful, I whispered to myself as I stood outside in the backyard watching my puppy Oakley running back and forth on the grass, my husband playing with him and the sun setting.
It would have been easy to lose myself to thoughts about what’s next and why I still at times feel lost and hopeless, but those thoughts never resolve how I feel and only ignite my anxiety. I decided to instead be grateful for the blessings in that moment, trust that what’s next will get here when it does, and for now, practice being present with what is.
Be grateful for what is right now, even if you’re going through challenging times. Let your trust for the process be bigger than your fear, stress, and anxiety. When you trust the process, you tell life that you are one with its flow and allow the experience to make you stronger, teach you something new, and guide you onto a path of growth.
Take a breath to recenter yourself into this moment and look around to see what you can appreciate. Perhaps it’s this blog, a family member, your pet, a plant, a cup of coffee, or a meal. Maybe it’s the sun or rain.
It’s easier to let go of the past and stop trying to control the future when you’re fully immersed in the now. Whatever your life entails in this moment, be present with it, because that is the ultimate path to healing and finding your power in life.
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How to Increase Your Sense of Control and Boost Your Resilience
“You may encounter many defeats, but you must not be defeated. In fact, it may be necessary to encounter the defeats, so you can know who you are, what you can rise from, how you can still come out of it.” ~Maya Angelou
When I look back, I am amazed at how differently I dealt with adversity the first few decades of my life.
Growing up in a stressful home primed me to experience life with caution. Whether it was being afraid of physical harm, loneliness, or failure, I’ve lived my life with an exaggerated fight-flight response to everything. Adversity seemed around every corner, and no one was ever there to save me.
I developed maladaptive mechanisms to minimize, avoid, or go around the things I was afraid of.
I became a quiet and obedient kid to avoid my father’s anger.
I accepted whatever sliver of love my chronically overwhelmed mother was able to give me.
I settled for the last pick on the team. I quit afterschool theater after I was assaulted on the way home one evening.
I gave up on art school because my father wanted me to be a teacher.
I went to a music school as he wanted and quietly accepted my instructor’s abuse.
On and on, hurt and disappointment became my constant companions, and I learned to just take it. No one seemed to care that I struggled. No one saw me.
Over time, I learned to accept that the world was just cruel and indifferent to my pain. I learned that I have little control over my circumstances. I learned that I can either fight and fail or stay quiet and survive. I learned helplessness.
I know now that my childhood wasn’t that unique, but for a kid, it was isolating and debilitating. I thought I was the only one who struggled like this. I felt different, alone, and somehow deficient. I developed low self-esteem and anxiety that soon morphed into this chronic feeling of impending doom.
I carried that sense of dread and defeat into adulthood. Hypersensitive to stress, I avoided things that would challenge and overwhelm me. I looked to others for permission, approval, and validation. I allowed things without a fight, latched onto any good thing that came my way, and accepted crumbs from others never daring to stand up for myself and ask for more.
They say that what doesn’t break you makes you stronger but for many—those without a healthy foundation—life’s big and small traumas build up and eventually show up as anxiety, depression, substance abuse, or PTSD. I developed most of these.
Resilience Can Be Strengthened
We all respond to adversity differently. Research shows that a loving, emotionally responsive, and supportive environment during childhood fosters psychological resilience throughout life. But even if we didn’t get that strong foundation growing up, we can still build resilience now.
We can learn to overcome helplessness by increasing our sense of control.
Finding Peace in the Present Moment
The most significant practice that allowed me to shift out of state of helplessness and offer me some sense of control was mindfulness.
Instead of reliving the past—the pain, resentments, and disappointments—or worrying about the future, I could find peace in this moment, right now. I couldn’t change what happened and can’t control what’s to come, but I can decide how I move now. In this very moment, I can control how I respond to life.
A deep inhale, noticing my child’s smile, the scent of garlic as I cook dinner—I can focus on here and now, fully absorbing life through all my senses, knowing that in this moment I am okay.
And, if I’m feeling stressed or unsettled, I become curious instead of trying to outrun it. I start paying attention to my body, tracking sensations, observing where I’m feeling tightness, consciously releasing the tension as I breathe in and out. This way, I can help regulate my nervous system and shift the patterns of reactivity. I remind myself to breathe as I ride the wave, trusting the discomfort will eventually pass.
Learning to Move Through Negative Thoughts
Once I allowed myself to feel what was going on in my body in times of high stress, I began noticing what I’m thinking and feeling in the midst of turmoil.
It can be difficult to not get overwhelmed by the negative thought patterns engraved deeply in our minds, patterns we’ve been falling into for decades, without much conscious examination. Looking at those now, I realized how detrimental my mental scripts were to my well-being.
With the help of my journal, I learned to reframe negative events, bring perspective into my experiences, and focus on what I could learn from them.
For example, I’ve carried with me this feeling of failure as a young parent. For those first few years, I was living in a constant state of overwhelm, and there was a lot of guilt for not being good enough of a mom, feeling like a fraud and a failure. When I took a step back, I realized there was a multitude of circumstances going against me that made this part of my life extremely difficult, and I was just doing my best.
I had three children super close together (three under three), which in itself was a Sisyphean task. I had just moved across the country and had no real friends or family to support me. My husband worked long hours, many weekends, often out of state. It was a lot to take on, and I was virtually on my own.
Looking at this part of my life, I realized I had unrealistic expectations of what it meant to be a good parent. I also realized my perfectionist tendencies and the relentless pressure I put on myself stemmed from my fears of perpetuating generational trauma.
This way of thinking wasn’t constructive—it was making me miserable. Slowly, I began noticing when these tendencies showed up, and instead of feeding them, I’d just watch them come and go.
Mindfulness allowed me to move through negative thoughts and memories instead of getting stuck in them. I would observe what was going on inside my mind, breathe through the turbulence offering myself compassion for my struggles, and remind myself that I was doing the best I can. Over time I stopped being so hard on myself, and eventually shifted out of the habit of ruminating for good.
Enjoying Something That You Do Well
Spending time doing something that I can do well reminds me how it feels to succeed.
I have always enjoyed gardening. It is my escape from the hustle and stress of today’s fast-paced world—my garden is my sanctuary.
Watching my garden transform over the decade from a lot of dirt to where it is today—with all the fruit trees, veggie boxes, shrubs, grasses, and blooming annuals—brings me a sense of accomplishment and fulfillment.
Finding something that you do well, and practicing it regularly builds confidence, self-esteem, and fortifies a healthy ego. It is imperative to have hobbies that you excel at and can turn to in times of stress or unpredictability.
Spending Time in Nature
We live in a world of chronic stress and anxiety. We are always plugged in and on the go, constantly planning, thinking, and doing, all the while feeling disconnected from ourselves and the world around us.
Modern-day life means living in our heads a lot. To counter that, we need a practice that will ground us and bring us back to balance. And nature is one of the most grounding elements that we have.
Being in nature down-regulates our nervous system and brings about relaxation. Even a short walk can improve our mood and reduce anxiety. Disconnecting from our daily grind this way—all the responsibilities, worries, and electronics—rebalances our body, mind, and soul. Our problems become less significant and impending. We can exhale, if only for now.
There are many ways we can ground ourselves in nature this way. Gardening, walking, or even taking care of houseplants can be grounding. I like watering my garden in the evening, repotting plants on Saturdays, and long walks around a lake on Sunday mornings. Find your own natural zen. Soak in nature’s energy as often as you can—it’s healing.
Caring for and Nourishing Your Body-Mind-Soul
We can’t be resilient if we are depleted.
When my kids were little, I barely had time and energy for self-care. I neglected my needs—whether physical, emotional, or mental—just like I was raised to ignore them growing up. Self-neglect is a trauma response, and years went by before I realized I was just perpetuating old wounds.
As a result, I felt chronically depleted and anxious. Every little mishap or challenge would stress me out, whether it was a kid’s tantrum or packing up for a weekend trip. I was living in a state of chronic overwhelm, emotional dysregulation, and low-grade depression.
As kids grew older and more independent, my healing turned a corner. I could finally go beyond basic self-care like showers and eating well, and focus on truly nourishing my body, mind, and soul. I now prioritize self-care like my life depends on it because it does.
Focusing on the basics, I prioritize sleep, movement, and practices that nourish and relax me—long baths, longer walks, healthy food, reading, gardening, music. I rely on boundaries to protect my energy and inner peace. I practice mindfulness and do things with intention. I plan ahead to avoid rushing or multitasking. I fill my own bucket.
With so much out of our control, caring for ourselves—body, mind, and heart—is the one thing we can do.
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While challenging times are a given in life and we can’t always change our circumstances, we can have a different relationship with what’s going on outside of us. We can learn to surf the waves if we stay mindful of practices that strengthen resilience. And that is empowering.
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3 Questions Every People-Pleaser Should Ask Before Making a Decision
“The one thing you learn is when you can step out of your comfort zone and be uncomfortable, you see what you’re made of and who you are.” ~Sue Bird
I am a recovering people-pleaser.
I grew up in a hardworking, blue-collar house, nestled in a humble, rural, blue-collar town. I was instructed, both consciously and unconsciously, on how to fit in and play my part.
My entire decision-making process revolved around what I was supposed to do, how my actions made others feel, and the impact I would have on the status-quo. I became a teacher because that is a wonderful profession for women. I underwent multiple fertility treatments because all women want to have a baby.
I never questioned anything. I just floated along on a raft, built generations before me, carrying me down a river of inevitability. Then, one day, my raft crashed.
I was sitting in a greasy diner, the vinyl booth sticking to my thighs. I had just endured another fertility treatment across the street. While listening to spoons tinkling against ceramic cups, I wondered why I was going through all this. Was it for me or because it’s what I thought I was supposed to do?
I suddenly realized I had to make a choice. I could lie back in the river and let the current take me, or I could climb onto the riverbank and begin walking on my own two legs.
I was disoriented. Training fought against instinct. Fear clashed with desire. What would people think? How would my friends and family feel? Would they be disappointed? Angry?
Like a newborn fawn on wobbly legs, I took my first step onto the riverbank. I was afraid, but I was determined to begin walking my own path. My steps were small in the beginning—little decisions that tested the ground beneath my feet.
With each new step, I gained more confidence. The fear, guilt, and self-doubt began to recede. I slowly reclaimed my autonomy and began to chart my own course with intention.
Looking back on my journey from people-pleaser to self-empowered, I identified three main questions I ask myself before making a decision.
1. Is this my priority?
As people-pleasers, we are quick to sacrifice our own wants and needs to make others happy. We’ve been trained to dismiss ourselves for the benefit of everyone else. We’ve been rewarded for being modest, simple, agreeable, and easy. We never learn to identify what is important to us.
Before answering yes, we must clarify our priorities. This is the foundation for healthier decision making. Sitting in that diner booth I asked myself, “Is having a baby my priority?”
My answer was profound and disturbing. I was trying to get pregnant because that is what was expected of me—as a woman, as a wife, as a daughter. Having a baby and being a mother was not my priority.
I was at once relieved and frightened. That moment of clarity allowed me to decide what kind of future I would create. But that also meant that I would be going against the tide. My “training” kicked in immediately. How would my decision impact those around me? Who did I think I was to choose my own path?
Fear arises to shove us back into our comfort zone. It’s a deeply ingrained self-defense mechanism. Fear is designed to protect, and it has a role to play when the danger is high. The problem is that, often, our fear is an overinflated response to the psychological conditioning people-pleasers have learned
We fear the backlash that comes from expressing an independent opinion that differs from our what our family believes or what society defines as the norm. Our conditioning has us believing that being unique is less safe, and that belief holds us back from fulfilling our potential.
Realizing we are moving in the wrong direction is the foundation to becoming self-empowered.
2. What is important to me?
Putting ourselves first is not a fatal condition. It’s quite the opposite. Choosing autonomy and self-fulfillment is the healthiest thing we can do. Achieving our greatest potential, self-actualization, is at the top of Mazlow’s Hierarchy of Needs. After I realized having a baby was not my priority, I asked myself, “What is important to me?”
I had absolutely no clue. It took a long time to figure out. This was a new way of thinking. I wasn’t used to focusing on myself. I had a lot of self-doubt. I fluctuated between what I wanted and what was expected. I had to define, for the first time, who I was and what I wanted.
It was difficult to keep refocusing on myself. I went through a process of retraining my brain and creating new habits. Everything I had been taught needed to be reprogrammed to fit my new way of being in the world.
My transformation began with clarifying my values and priorities. I defined what was important to me. I realized that personal responsibility, continuous improvement, and positive energy were paramount to the person I wanted to be. I began to hold myself, and others, to a higher standard.
I began to recognize when someone was using me instead of doing their own work. I realized I allowed people to manipulate me for their own gain. Once I clarified my values, it was much easier to stand up for them.
Whenever I was faced with a decision, I asked myself, “Does this fit with what I value? Is this important to me? Is this a positive contribution?” This created a filter through which all my decisions were placed. This filter allows me to make the decisions that are aligned with me.
Getting crystal clear on our priorities is the roadmap for achieving our dreams and desires.
3. How will I feel after I make my decision?
Again, our conditioning will have us people-pleasers worrying about everyone else. It’s crucial to stay focused on ourselves and our priorities. We are flexing a new muscle.
Putting ourselves first feels awkward and wrong because we have been taught that it is rude and unbecoming. It keeps us frozen in the ambiguity of imaginary worst-case scenarios. We need to play out the scenario and confront the questions:
How will I feel if I say yes?
How will I feel if I say no?
In my case the questions were, “How will I feel if I continue the fertility treatments? How will I feel if I stop?”
I realized that f I stopped the treatments, I would feel in control of my body and my life again. I would have more time to spend on my writing and enjoy living life with my husband again. If I continued the treatments, I would be making everyone happy except myself.
I realized that I didn’t need to have a baby to be fulfilled. The answer became crystal clear. It was time to stop. Identifying the right decision for me was a relief.
Would others be disappointed with my decision? For sure. Would others disagree? Absolutely. But my newly discovered self-awareness gave me a sense of peace. I replaced fear with freedom.
In place of people-pleasing, I have become thoughtfully selfish. Being selfish has its virtues—self-awareness, self-confidence, self-fulfillment, self-care. These are all healthy ways of being selfish.
Do more of what makes you happy.
Making thoughtfully selfish decisions gives you the freedom to be a more generous, loving, and positive human being. Instead of worrying so much about how you will be perceived, you will feel healthier, happier, and more confident.
Give yourself permission to focus on your needs and you will become the unique person you are meant to be. You don’t have the power to please everyone, but you do have the power to please yourself.
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When Life Forces Your Hand, Embrace the New Chapter
“Every new beginning comes from some other beginning’s end.” ~Seneca
Like most people, I’ve tried to control many aspects of my life, and this hasn’t always worked in my favor. Just when I thought I had it all under control, life has inconveniently shown me many, many times that I was getting a little too cocky.
You name it, I’ve tried to control it—from my schedule and time (hello, Type A personality) to forgoing random opportunities because my mind was made up on going a certain direction. I even tried calorie counting at the height of my exercising routine because I wanted ultimate control of what I put in my body.
Now, none of these are necessarily bad. Planning your time leads to efficiency, forgoing things because you are on a mission means you might be on the path to your purpose, and calorie counting could help you get the body you’ve always dreamed of. But when you do these things day in and day out, all at the same time… well, let’s just say the process can be stressful.
But I tried anyway because I figured I might as well try to control what I could since life was going to be random no matter what. It also gave me satisfaction, almost a somewhat false sense of accomplishment, that I was shaping my own destiny.
I think most of us fall into this way of thinking because we all want to foresee things before they can potentially happen in order to feel safe. But ironically, when we try to control life, we end up missing out on possibilities that may have come our way if only we’d let go and allowed life to happen.
It’s hard to say what exactly I’ve missed out on because of my former desire to control most aspects of my life. I won’t worry myself too much about it because it’s a pointless exercise. But I can think of a couple of big areas, one of them being a complete career shift that could have happened much earlier on in my life had I not resisted so much.
Instead, I was rigid and decided that I wanted to stick to a career that I didn’t enjoy because it was my college degree and I was making great money. I did end up switching careers eventually, just not in the area I had a unique opportunity in at that time.
The Three Golden Rules
Try as we may, we can’t always control life, and sometimes painful things happen that we couldn’t possibly predict or prevent.
Recently I lost a job that I was excelling at and actually enjoyed. My performance was on fire, I got along great with all my coworkers, and then one day, out of the blue, I got called into the CEO’s office and told that, due to ongoing strategy changes at the company, my time was up.
Talk about knocking the wind out of my sails. I had just gotten back from a work conference and was slated to lead a new project before receiving the bad news.
Has this been easy since it happened? No way. I still struggle with it daily. But somewhere, deep down, I know that life happens for me, not to me. And that this has created an opportunity for something bigger and better.
What is that something? If I could predict the future, then I’d probably be playing the lottery knowing I’m picking the right numbers. But I can’t foresee what’s coming down the road. I can only choose my attitude when I hit roadblocks along the journey, which ultimately shapes my choices.
What helps me maintain an optimistic attitude and cope when things go wrong? Three very important ideas:
1. Life happens for you, not to you.
2. This too shall pass.
3. Be with what is.
When life doesn’t go to plan, we must embrace the change and realize that our lives are composed of chapters; one has ended, and another one is about to begin. But we can’t move on to the next chapter if we continually reread old ones. We have to willingly accept that life goes on, and that we have a chance to create something bigger and better.
I lost my job, but I don’t want to play the victim card. Yes, life has forced my hand, but that doesn’t mean I need to feel sorry for myself. This just means I have a better opportunity coming my way, whatever that may be.
I also realize that time plays a crucial factor in our lives. Our time is limited, and it consistently passes at the same speed, with no bias. This means that, with time, the inner turmoil I am currently dealing with will, without a doubt, pass.
Last but not least, I know that I must be with what is. In other words, stop resisting. Fighting the fact I lost a job won’t suddenly bring it back. Fighting the fact your relationship ended won’t necessarily have them running back into your arms.
Before we can move on, we must accept what is happening in the present moment. Then and only then can we proceed forward with calmness and clarity.
But There Is No Golden Formula
I understand this may not be easy to digest when you’re hurting, especially in situations that involve a loved one. Grieving is a natural part of this process, and I am not discrediting it in the least. It’s part of the human experience, and it’s okay to take as long as you need as you internalize.
I lost my father over five years ago. The death of a loved one is probably the hardest loss to deal with. How are you supposed to see the space that has been created from such a tragic event? I understand if you don’t, because I fully admit it’s been hard, even five years later.
But at the same time, I trust that life is working for me somehow. I just have to stop resisting. I have to understand that the feelings of loneliness, desperation, fear, and loss will pass. I have to stay in the moment and fully accept all that is happening to me.
No, it will not be easy, and it isn’t meant to be.
Trust The Process
You’ve probably heard the proverb “If life gives you lemons, make lemonade.”
Our lives are a lot happier when we strive to make the most of what life gives us, but the step before it is equally important: Trust the process and embrace the change, whatever it is. Only then, once you stop fighting it, can you go about making your lemonade.
We’ve all been faced with situations in our lives that force our hand. And we likely will be faced with these kinds of situations again in the future. In these moments, it’s important to hold onto the notion that life could be creating space for you to do something differently.
If you lost your job and didn’t enjoy the work, life is potentially giving you a hint to pursue something further aligned with your passions and purpose. If you went through a breakup, life is potentially giving you a hint that you deserve and can do better.
When I look back on my past, I realize that every loss has taught me beautiful, valuable lessons that now help me in the present. The same is likely true for you. In these moments of inner turmoil, or let’s just call it life turmoil, you are taking mental notes. Mental notes that will help you grow and help you in the future when dealing with whatever else life throws your way.
You’ve made it through loss and hardship before; what makes you think you can’t now? You can. You just need to remember three things: life happens for your benefit, not against it; everything heals with enough time; and it’s pointless to keep resisting.
With these ideas in mind, it should be exciting to think about the potential you have in your life.
The next chapter could be even more amazing than the previous one. And you may even have chosen to start that chapter eventually. Your schedule just got moved up a bit.
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The Paradox of Less is More (And How It Will Improve Your Life)
“Don’t use a lot where a little will do.” ~Proverb
One of the most common paradoxical statements we hear is “less is more.”
I, like many others, understand what that means in the context of personal style, where it is commonly used.
I can appreciate, for example, that when we overdress, we are often taking away from the beauty of the outfit or the look and detracting attention from each valuable detail or accessory.
But recently I discovered that the paradox of “less is more” has many other applications.
When I started questioning whether I could apply this simple philosophy to my life, more generally—to be more effective, to be more at peace, to have higher levels of self-esteem—I found that it became the single most effective guiding principle of my life.
The first time I noticed the amazing power of “less is more” was when I accepted that I could not physically do the brutal corporate hours that I used to work, and neither could I compete with the hyper-alpha entrepreneurs and business owners that worked fourteen hours a day.
I tried to do the 5am starts that seem to be the trend in the world of business but found that is not how my body works. Every time I tried to push myself beyond my natural rhythm, I was so tired during the day, I could achieve nothing of value.
That is when I made a new rule, that I would do just one thing every day, and as long as I achieved that one thing, my most important, value-added thing, I would appreciate myself as having achieved something significant.
I appreciate that this is not always possible when you are not in charge of your own workload, but the essence of this lesson is to concentrate your focus on what is essential and of highest priority and value, rather than becoming overwhelmed with trying to do every task.
I found that when you apply “less is more” to your work and daily to-do list, you become the epitome of productivity and focus. And although there is a certain tribe of people that glamorize the hustle culture and the grind ethic, we also now acknowledge that our mental health and self-care are just as important. Thankfully, we have started to realize that burn-out is counterproductive to success in the long term.
I found that by trying to do less, I actually achieved more in all the important ways. I was more creative, I was more productive, and I was able to sustain my energy throughout the week instead of constantly going through peaks and crashes.
I have now made this my routine and my ultimate measure of productivity. By focusing on the most important task, instead of aiming to complete every task, we can all achieve more by seemingly doing less. This is one way powerful we can utilize this paradox to streamline our everyday life.
After my success with applying this approach to my working life, I then started to consider whether “less is more” might help me in other parts of my life.
One arena in which I have reflected on “less is more” is when I have found myself critiquing my natural tendency to not want to speak about my accomplishments in a boastful way or try to push myself to the front to be ‘seen.’
Often, I have wondered whether my natural modesty was holding me back. Should I be pushier? Is it a failing within myself to not be more self-promoting? But then I reflected on “less is more” and realized that one of the ways we can be guided by this philosophy is in how we present ourselves to the world.
We do not need to necessarily boast about our accomplishments or clamor desperately for attention.
Sometimes we get greater appreciation and respect by allowing people to learn for themselves our true value. In allowing people to discover us, we are attracting only those who appreciate us without having to work so hard at being liked or selling to them in the manner of a pushy salesperson. And there is so much flow and peace in approaching life like this.
Think of the greats in history who changed the world and never talked about themselves, instead choosing to keep the focus on their mission and the people they served. Therein lay their greatness.
The concept of servant leadership (another seeming paradox!) speaks to the way great leaders are ones that serve, and this necessitates keeping your ego aside. This is my go-to now when I feel I should be more of a pushy salesperson or chase after people that have no interest in reciprocating my efforts. Less is more!
“Less is more” has also changed the way I communicate. I, like many other people in our modern society, have been conditioned that we should communicate, communicate, communicate! That we should talk about everything all the time and express everything we feel and think.
But I found, when reflecting on “less is more,” that in relationships, we sometimes over-communicate.
We can all do with holding our tongue and learning when not to speak, what not to say, and when to listen.
This self-control and self-restraint can often pave the way for a better quality of communication and more peace and harmony in a culture where we overemphasize the power of words spoken—words that are often unnecessary and destructive, words that cannot be taken back.
By saying less, these days I find that my relationships are more harmonious, and greater peace and ease have found their way into my interactions. It also reminded me that there are many ways we say so much when we say nothing. When we let ourselves just hold space, just be, or spend time listening, we are communicating in powerful ways.
In my family and the way I love and care for them, “less is more” has helped me realize that sometimes the best way to love and care is by taking a step back and doing nothing rather than helping out every time.
It allowed me to recognize where I was not being caring but, in fact, was being overbearing and enabling. And as many of us have discovered, the tendency to overextend yourself does no one any good; not the person you are trying to help, nor yourself.
One of the ways I used to step from caring into being overbearing was by offering ‘helpful’ but unsolicited advice to my loved ones. Now I have realized that, when it comes to offering advice, less is definitely more!
I discovered that “less is more” is about creating space. In your relationships, this is where you are not always reaching out to connect and create intimacy and you are allowing air to circulate and bring new life and perspectives to your interactions.
And this also applies to physical space. By decluttering and letting go of things I no longer use or need, I now have less but better quality items, which I really treasure. I am able to value them, (because I can actually see them!), and this results in a feeling of luxury and abundance from the sensual act of taking time to fully enjoy them, rather than being on to the next purchase after the initial thrill wears off.
And when we apply this philosophy to our schedule, by creating fewer obligations that drain us, we allow space and time to spend on what is truly important, while also creating space for new activities, that are more aligned to us, to come into our lives and take their place.
“Less is more” seems contradictory and confusing.
But the reality is, beauty lies in simplicity, truth lives in simplicity, and greatness lies in stripping yourself and your life down to what is truly important.
Here are a few questions you might ask yourself to start the process of applying this motto to your life.
- In what ways can you do, be, and have less and magnify your overall happiness, peace, and success?
- Can you find ways to reprioritize and focus on what is truly important?
- What do you do, with relative ease and effortlessness, that is adding value to your life?
- In what ways, and in which areas, are you trying too hard?
We can all reflect and apply the teachings of this paradox in any and every part of our life to live a life of greater meaning, focus, simplicity, and peace.
I encourage you to deeply reflect on how less might actually be more in your life and then take small daily actions to align to that reality. Take small daily actions to remove things, to do less, to be less, to try less, and thereby create more flow and ease and less stress.
Take small steps to create pockets of nothingness and space in order to expand into more of what is truly important and, most importantly, to expand into a greater version of yourself.
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It’s Okay to Feel Scared: How to Stand Up to Fear by Standing Down
“It’s okay to be scared. Being scared means you’re about to do something really, really brave.” ~Mandy Hale
When it comes to plane travel, I frequently quip: “I’m not a nervous flier, but my bladder is.”
In a way, this is true. Aside from brief freak-out moments when there’s a patch of turbulence or when a flash from my catalog of gruesome “what-if” scenarios forces its way into my mind’s eye, I remain blissfully disconnected from my fear. Meanwhile, my bladder takes the brunt of it, with hourly pit-stops to the lavatory alongside a persistent, dull ache.
While this is physically annoying, my strategy has its utility: it conveniently shifts the blame and shame for my irrational fear onto my bladder so that I don’t have to face up to it. (Otherwise known as somatizing my emotions, if you or my therapist want to get technical.)
So, as you might imagine, when I recently boarded my first plane flight in two years amidst a still-very-present Covid pandemic, my bladder felt even twitchier than usual. Especially at the abrupt jolt of going from socializing at a distance to being packed like sardines into a confined space with a bunch of breathing, coughing, possibly infectious humans.
At least, that is, until a little boy said something heart-stopping.
A Cry for Help
No more than six years old, the slender boy with a mop of golden-blonde hair had just clambered into the window seat of the empty row in front of me, trailing his white satin-trimmed fleece pillow and blanket.
While the boy fiddled with his seat belt, I noticed that his mother and grandmother—each equally youngish-looking with lemony hair and tanned skin—were still lingering in the aisle, conversing in hushed tones. As I casually eavesdropped, I learned that they were debating which of them would sit with the boy versus with the rest of the family located several rows up.
At first, I cursed my luck to be seated right behind a kid too young to be vaccinated or keep his mask up. Thanks a lot, universe, I grumbled internally.
But as his mother began walking away to sit with her younger child (presumably expecting that her older son was in good hands with his grandmother), the boy wriggled upward in his seat, shoulders tensed, assessing the situation. Then, he called out quite loudly, without a hint of self-consciousness or shame: “Mom, I want you to sit here with me, because I’m scared and I need you.”
Instantly, the radius of chatter around Row ten fell mute.
Like a silent lightening strike, the boy’s words charged the atmosphere with an almost electric energy. For two long seconds, they hung there in the air above us, almost too sacred to desecrate with sound. During that time, I swear, you could practically feel our collective hearts opening. Then, a sincere chorus of “Awww”s and “Bless his heart”s rang out, cushioning the silence.
A Permission Slip
As I marveled at what had just transpired, I realized that, in one simple sentence, this young boy had done something remarkable: he’d given us permission to be human.
After all, how many times had many of us felt just as fearful in life yet pretended we didn’t? How many times had we wanted to cry in the midst of overwhelm (if not wail like hell for our mommies), yet told ourselves to “buck up” or “be an adult”? And how many times had we rushed to the side of a friend in need yet readily denied ourselves this small grace?
Perhaps the reason the little boy’s words stirred us so deeply, it struck me, was that he reminded us of what we already knew yet stubbornly denied: Of the power in vulnerability. Of the courage in asking for support. Of the importance of honoring our feelings, especially our fear—meeting it with acceptance, rather than my preferred method of hastily swatting it away like a poisonous wasp.
Meeting Fear with Acceptance
Fortunately, the boy’s mother was much more adept at dealing with fear than me.
Making a beeline back to her son’s side, she enveloped him in a warm embrace, murmuring, “I’m so sorry, honey. It’s okay, I’m here for you,” (a relational repair that was powerful in itself).
Spying through the narrow slat between our seats, I watched as the boy’s shoulders immediately unknotted. Seconds later, he began chattering to his mother about the character on his video game player—his fear a seemingly distant memory.
It was then that I realized something even more remarkable: to the boy, the preceding moment was likely just an ordinary moment.
Too young to be fully conditioned by our cultural garbage around fear or gender “norms,” he had no idea that he’d done anything profound, much less impacted a plane full of people much older and “wiser” than him. He was simply acknowledging his fear and taking care of himself.
Okay, Lisa, I told myself. If that little boy can unabashedly proclaim for all to hear that he’s scared, then the least I can do is acknowledge my own fear to myself.
Especially considering that, the very day before, a beloved teacher of mine had providentially reminded me about the power of acknowledgement. How, oftentimes, just acknowledging our feelings can considerably ease our unease. And sometimes, she claimed, it’s the only thing we need to do.
Huh, I realized with a wink to the universe. You’re giving me an opportunity to practice this right now, aren’t you?
And so, I did. Closing my eyes as the plane taxied down the runway, I felt into my fear and whispered: Okay, fear. I see you. I hear you. And it’s okay that you’re here. In fact, it would probably be abnormal not to feel you on my first post-pandemic plane ride after two years of semi-hermitude.
From there, I stayed quiet and present in my body. I didn’t try to do anything with the fear, other than “stand down” so that its stifled energy could move through me.
A minute or so later, wouldn’t you know it, the tight ball of yarn that was my bladder muscle magically slackened. Even my abdomen, I noted, no longer bloated out like I was carrying a small fetus. My entire body felt lighter too, as if I’d released a leaden weight I didn’t know I was carrying. Holy moly! I boggled, gazing down at my body in both awe and glee.
“Alrighty, folks,” the captain’s disembodied voice announced over the PA system just then. “We’re about to head out, so sit back, relax, and enjoy the flight.”
Grinning to myself, I silently replied in my head: You know what? I think I will.
*A Magical Postscript*
Incredibly, the story doesn’t end there.
Toward the end of the flight, I tentatively caught the attention of the boy’s grandmother, whose name I’d soon learn was Beverly.
“Um, pardon me,” I started, “but I’m a writer, and I was so inspired by what your grandson said before the flight that I actually just wrote an article about it!”
“Oh, really?” Beverly replied in surprise, my unanticipated admission taking a few seconds to sink in. Then, her surprise gave way to delight, as her eyes crinkled into a smile above her mask and she added, “Wow, that’s so wonderful!”
“I’m happy to email it to you if you like,” I continued, “but I really just wanted to thank your family. For providing such a powerful moment for me—as I’m sure it was for many others.”
“Well, let me tell you something,” Beverly responded, leaning toward me with an unanticipated admission of her own. “That moment was a bigger deal than you know. You see, my grandson has autism, and for him it was a very big deal to express his feelings like that.”
Straightaway, goosebumps traveled up and down my arms. Of course, the writer in me couldn’t help but be tickled by the added significance to the story. But the real eye-opener for me was the extent of my own ignorance. That I assumed the moment was important to everyone but the boy. That I assumed there was only one “giver” and one “receiver” in the equation. As if the universe ever worked that way.
When the plane touched down soon after, tears sprang to my eyes as the full-circle nature of the experience hit me.
Thank you, universe, I humbly mouthed—this time meaning it.
