Tag: wisdom
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What It Means to Love: 9 Steps to a Strong Relationship
“Be there. Be open. Be honest. Be kind. Be willing to listen, understand, accept, support, and forgive. This is what it means to love.” ~Lori Deschene
They say your heart pounds when you’re in love.
But the very idea of opening up and letting love in can bring on the wrong kind of palpitations.
Saying yes to love… that’s like standing naked, bare naked, every inch of you on show.
Completely vulnerable.
Or so I thought.
My Impregnable Force Field
“Of all forms of caution, caution in love is perhaps the most fatal to true happiness.” ~Bertrand Russell
You see, I was called a few different things growing up. People said I was reserved, quiet, or shy.
But in truth I was just scared to let anyone in. I felt I needed an impregnable forcefield. To stay safe. To be in control.
And I needed space. Lots of it.
Getting close to people, close enough to fall in love, well, that felt way too intense and personal for me back then.
We didn’t do love in my family growing up. It was busy, busy, busy in our house. Everything was about practicality, working super hard, and getting things done. And done well.
Adults rarely showed affection with each other—something about it being inappropriate in public, my brain remembers. We were taught not to talk about personal things. Life felt secretive and awkward.
As an adult, I ached to be loved. It hurt to be so alone.
It took me a long time to realize that I didn’t really know how to love. And yet, it’s supposed to be an innate trait. Even newborn babies demonstrate the instinct to love, and the need to receive love back.
But in all my years growing up, love and affection felt awkward, foreign. Love seemed equally dangerous and mysterious at the same time.
I learned to keep everything inside, and everyone outside.
In truth, life went wrong precisely because I acted that way. I ended up alone—no lifelong friends, no love in my life. I was lost. Every day felt like an uphill struggle.
And around me love bloomed, but for others, not for me.
Eventually I understood that unless I made some changes, I would never know the absolute security of another’s love. I would never hear someone telling me everything would be okay. That they’d be there for me, whatever life threw my way. And I’d never be able to be there for someone else.
I realized that I needed to start doing these nine things or I would never know what love is.
1. Be there.
Love doesn’t grow and flourish because you dress up or make yourself up. All it needs is for you to show up, to be fully present.
I used to believe soul mates were mythical creatures, as rare as unicorns, and that finding your soul mate was an honest to goodness miracle—one that happened to other people.
Not true.
Someone is ready to love you. They’re out there. And they’re looking for you right now. But you have to show up fully to connect with them.
In the past, I spent a lot of time caught up in my head, paralyzed by my fears and insecurities. When I was focusing all my energy on protecting myself, I wasn’t available to the people around me. You can’t love or be loved when you’re physically there but mentally somewhere else.
I now know that I need to focus more on the person in front of me than my worries, insecurities, and judgments. Love can only unfold when you get out of your head and get into your heart.
“When you love someone, the best thing you can offer is your presence. How can you love if you are not there?” ~Thich Nhat Hanh
2. Be open.
Love is a powerful force, but you can’t share it if your heart is closed.
I used to fear the slightest puncture in my protective force field. I worried that if I opened up even a little, it would be the end of me. Somehow staying closed felt like protection. If I let someone in, I couldn’t control what would happen. If I kept everyone out, nothing could go wrong.
But I learned that you don’t need to expose the deepest parts of yourself all at once to be open to love. You just need to let your defenses down long enough to let someone else in.
I started by sharing a little about myself—my opinions, my feelings, and my worries. A little at first, I tested others’ reactions to what I shared. But my confidence grew much more quickly than I expected. And you know, not holding back so hard or pretending turned out to be the biggest relief ever.
“The greatest asset you could own, is an open heart.” ~Nikki Rowe
3. Be honest.
Being truthful in love goes further than just not telling lies. It takes being the real you, the wonderfully imperfect you.
Pretending to be someone you’re not or disguising how you feel sends a worrying message to the person who loves you. Human beings have an inbuilt alarm when they sense someone isn’t telling them the whole truth.
I had an image of the ‘perfect me,’ and it didn’t include being vulnerable. So I lied about the true me in everything I said and did. I pretended that I didn’t worry, didn’t need help, and that I knew exactly where I was heading in life. Those lies alone alienated some amazingly wonderful and loving people who would have been life-long friends… if I’d let them.
“Honesty is more than not lying. It is truth telling, truth speaking, truth living, and truth loving.” ~James E. Faust
4. Be kind.
I wasn’t kind in the beginning. I was too insecure to let the little things go. A forgotten request felt like rejection. A different opinion felt like an argument. I was also too insecure to accept that it didn’t mean I was loved less.
For example, one night I’d plucked up the courage to sing in front of a crowd, a small one, but to me it felt like standing on the stage of Carnegie Hall. My significant other muddled the dates and double-booked himself.
I sang that night without his support from the crowd because he felt he couldn’t let down his double booking. At the time that felt like rejection, and I reacted harshly. In truth, the situation simply said “I know you’ll understand that I need to stand by my promise elsewhere; they need me more right now. I’ll be right next to you next time.” (And they were.)
Being kind in love means accepting that people can’t always meet your expectations and giving the other person leeway in how they act and respond. It means looking after the other person’s heart even when you’re disappointed.
“Be kind whenever possible. It is always possible.” ~Dalai Lama
5. Be willing to listen.
Love needs to be heard to flourish, that’s pretty obvious. But it took me years to figure out that it was as much my responsibility to listen as to talk.
Because love is a conversation, not a monologue.
In the beginning my head was too full of all the things I wanted to explain, my heart too full of all the emotions I wanted to express. And my mouth was too full of all the words I needed heard.
But I found that when I listened, I learned valuable insights into the other person each and every time. I heard their concerns, self-doubts, and their words of love. I was able to help, support, and feel the growing connection we had. They drew huge comfort from having been heard. Listening fully said “I love you” as clearly as the words themselves.
Like the night we left the movies, having watched School of Rock with Jack Black. It was supposed to be a comedy, a fun date. I laughed lots, but the other person had to sit through 106 minutes of their painful personal disappointment over not pursuing their dream career in music. I listened hard. I heard all their regret, their self-reproach.
And I learned a whole relationship’s worth of areas where I could be super-sensitive and supportive in the future.
Because you can’t speak the language of love until you learn to listen first.
“The first duty of love is to listen. ” ~Paul Tillich
6. Be willing to understand.
Being willing to listen is only half of learning the language of love. The other half is understanding what you hear.
And that means being open to a different perspective, even an opposite view.
At first that sounded like I needed to give up what I believed, to forever bow down on the way I saw things.
Not the case. It meant I needed to learn to see that there could also be an alternative, equally valid viewpoint.
Understanding in love goes beyond being aware and appreciative of the other person’s stance and beliefs. It takes consciously embracing that you’re one of two, and both your perspectives have a place. Love is big enough to handle different opinions and philosophies.
So the other person grew up in a different culture, for example. That works for them and the millions of people brought up the same. There must be something in it. Love means appreciating that.
I learned that speaking your mind doesn’t have to be rude or inflammatory, no matter how directly you say it. In some cultures it’s rude not to! And yet I’d been programed to never disagree or say the ‘wrong thing’ and instead to give the accepted, acquiescent response. Love taught me there’s another way—that it’s more important to be honest and truly understand each other than to simple appease each other.
“One of the most beautiful qualities of true friendship is to understand and to be understood.” ~Lucius Annaeus Seneca
7. Be willing to accept.
Love doesn’t have a complicated vocabulary. All it wants to hear is “That’s okay. I love you for who you are.” Accepting the other person for who they are, however, doesn’t guarantee love will flourish in a relationship. For that to have a chance of happening, you have to accept yourself for who you are as well.
To let love in, you need to believe you’re worthy of love, that you truly are enough for another’s heart to fall for.
You need to embrace your human-ness, your less than polished edges, and all your quirks—and theirs, too, in equal measure.
I had to learn that I didn’t need to be perfect. And I never could be. That I needed help sometimes. And doing my best was plenty.
I had to accept that about the other person too. I had to step back and see that no matter how large the mess or miscommunication, they’d gone into the situation dripping with good intentions and love.
That didn’t happen overnight. It took some time, some gritting of teeth initially, and a fair bit of biting my tongue. It felt hard to accept it all for a while, until I truly opened my arms to all their idiosyncrasies, blind spots, and contrary points of view. I would have let those beliefs go years before if I’d known how liberated I would feel when I did.
Accept that in a relationship you’re one of two wonderful, separate, yet intertwined individuals.
You can be the amazing you that you are, and they can be their wonderful self too.
“The greatest gift you can give to others is the gift of unconditional love and acceptance.” ~Brian Tracy
8. Be willing to support.
It’s hard to put the other person first when your own emotions are raging.
I spent years too caught up in the rawness of my own emotions to take into account anyone else’s. I was so busy struggling up my own mountain of troubles that I missed the other person struggling right alongside me.
We could have pulled each other up if I’d only reached across.
Support starts with looking out for signs the other one is struggling. It means putting your own battles on hold for a while.
I learned how to look beyond my thoughts and problems and truly be there for the other person, thank goodness. And our love deepened every time I did.
“Surround yourself with people who provide you with support and love and remember to give back as much as you can in return.” ~Karen Kain
9. Be willing to forgive.
Whenever there are two people involved, there are going to be mistakes and misunderstandings. That’s a given.
But the truth is, they are simply opportunities for love in disguise.
My anxious thoughts made me stress over small things for far too long. I’d analyze and imagine a whole scenario around what was a simple error or miscommunication. Like that confused discussion over weekend plans, when I worried that he saw what I’d suggested as dull, and his mix-up was a disguised attempt to avoid having to drag himself along.
A forgotten tiny promise felt like I didn’t matter. Like that planned cosy evening, just us and a relaxing dinner, that got steamrollered by him agreeing to watch the neighbors’ kids so that the parents could have a special evening instead.
That hurt.
Until I learned to forgive.
Forgiving says, “That mistake is tiny, our love is huge.”
And it says it just the same for what feels like a big mistake too. It says our love can weather this—really, it’s strong enough.
And more than that, every time you forgive the other person you’ll find the compassion to forgive yourself too.
“The reality is people mess up. Don’t let one mistake ruin a beautiful thing.” ~Unknown
This is what it means to love.
Imagine opening up your heart and allowing love in.
Imagine feeling more confident in who you are. Confident enough to be open, honest, and kind in a relationship. To be willing to listen, understand, accept, support, and forgive.
That impregnable force field that has kept you so alone for so long?
Throw it out.
And let love in.
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A Buddhist Chaplain Shares How to Cope with the Pandemic
EDITOR’S NOTE: You can find a number of helpful coronavirus resources and all related Tiny Buddha articles here.
When I decided over two years ago to become a Buddhist Chaplain, I could’ve never dreamed that I would be experiencing our current pandemic crisis.
I chose to become a Buddhist Chaplain after I lost my son in 2010. The experience of losing a child forever changed how I related to the world and how I relate to grief, suffering, and compassion.
One of the most profound lessons I learned about grief is that it doesn’t have to follow the loss of a loved one. We grieve anything we feel a connected to that provides our lives with purpose and meaning. By this definition it is no wonder our current situation of isolation is creating an undercurrent of deep grief and loss for what we once deemed our “normal life.”
For two years I studied Buddhist Philosophy at Upaya Zen Center under the instruction of Roshi Joan Halifax and other incredible Buddhist teachers. Currently I’m finishing my 1600 hours of Clinical Pastoral Education (CPE) to become a board certified chaplain.
After experiencing a life-changing event I wanted to be able to give back and, in a way, keep my son’s memory alive through this work. I imagined coming alongside people as they and their loved one experience the end of life and providing compassionate bereavement support to those who were left to mourn the person they loved and lost.
These experiences, I imagined, involved human connection and touch. Warm hand to warm hand, heart to heart. I knew that my presence wouldn’t heal the whole of it but hoped that it would provide the next brush stroke in the mandala of mean-making for these people along the journey of grief.
But in these most recent days it looks more like this: I call a dad through the safety of a phone call, no heart to heart, to tell him his young son was killed in a motorcycle accident. And when he asks if he could come to the hospital and see him, I say no and explain our COVID guidelines.
Then when he shows up to collect his son’s personal belongings, I stand in the parking lot of our emergency room, with a face mask on, six feet away, hand him the bag, and instruct him not to open the red biohazard bag for three days. It’s a COVID precaution, I tell him.
He holds the bag gently, looks at me with tears welling up in his eyes, and says, “How can we even have a funeral? No one is allowed to come.” And, with that, the tears break past the levy and rush down his cheeks.
We stand in silence until he pleads, “So I really can’t see him?”
I immediately think of how I would’ve felt if someone wouldn’t have let me see my son when he died. My heart tightens, I look away and explain the guidelines again (inside I feel like a failure as a chaplain).
If this were two months ago this interaction would plant the seeds of healing. The emotional closure of seeing his son one last time would prime the pump of healing and integration. But instead, he’s left with a red biohazard bag that he can’t open for three days.
Now that I am working full time in a level one trauma center during the COVID pandemic I can’t imagine doing this work without those years of training as a compassionate caregiver grounded in Buddhist teachings.
As the days have unfolded, and my ‘typical’ chaplain experiences are tarnished by new policies, even when the patient isn’t a COVID patient, I have reflected on what teachings and skills have helped me the most. My hope is by sharing these with you it will give you some tools to come alongside others, warm hand to warm hand, heart to heart.
Allow all the feelings and emotions that arise.
This is a time of unprecedented and volatile changes. It is normal and natural that with these changes a variety of feelings arise. Unfortunately, we live in a culture that embraces toxic positivity. Seeing bumper stickers that read “good vibes only” and being encouraged to manifest the life we want through positive affirmations, we begin to feel guilty or like there is something wrong with us when we have a normal human emotion like grief, anger, or sadness.
Subconsciously withholding permission to experience the full spectrum of human emotions is akin to only allowing a pendulum to swing in one direction.
The end result is that we can only feel the positive emotions to the depth and degree that we allow ourselves to feel deeply into the difficult emotions. Any joy or happiness we experience is blunted and/or limited by our inability to lean into the difficult emotions we have as part of the human experience.
Just like any skill we develop, it takes practice. So, when we spend energy pushing away or ignoring grief, sadness, anger, or depression, we are stealing an opportunity from ourselves to become more skilled at working with this emotion.
This is one reason why many people don’t understand why they aren’t happier in spite of working hard at “good vibes only.” On the other hand, when we get to know the full spectrum of emotions, we become more agile at working with them.
For example, I know that when I’m feeling grief it often shows up in my chest, whereas anger I’m more likely to feel in my throat. I can only discern this because I work to develop a mindfulness and awareness of these.
One of the best ways to begin a relationship with the more difficult emotions that arise is to distinguish between you and the feeling.
Dr. Susan David, in her TED talk on emotional agility, suggested we shift our word choice. For example, instead of saying, “I’m sad,” try saying, “I’m feeling sad.” There are no good/bad feelings, just feelings that need to be acknowledged.
Make friends with impermanence.
Illness, old age, and death are always part of our lives, but now we feel as if they have moved in closer. The latent awareness of these inevitabilities can cause us to feel an increase in anxiety.
In part because of our cultural aversion to grief, we often live our lives as if illness, old age, and death are as far away as the moon, needing a telescope to see the details. But the truth is aging is a gift, and every morning we wake we are one day closer to all three of these.
All of our experiences are impermanent… including this one with the COVID virus! The flow of life continues even through the hurt and pain of health problems, lost jobs, and all the other difficulties that are arising in this time.
These experiences are never as far off as the moon, they are always near to us. But, just like only embracing selective emotions, when we ignore the truth of life (and death) we are likely to be caught very unprepared for when things change.
All of life, our possessions, and our relationship are temporary. Making friends with impermanence helps us suffer less, and acknowledging impermanence encourages gratitude for all that is good in this moment.
One of my favorite teachings on impermanence is by the renowned teacher Thich Nhat Hahn. They are called The Five Remembrances.
My first experience with these was in a weekend course with Frank Osteseski, the founder of the Zen Hospice Project, and Metta Institute in San Francisco.
In a very powerful group experience, we had to speak the five remembrances over and over again to one another. There wasn’t a dry eye in the group!
I’ve shared them below and I would encourage you to sit with someone you trust and say them to one another. After each statement sit with what comes up for you and feel into what you’re experiencing, not turning away from any of it.
I am of the nature to grow old. There is no way to escape growing old.
I am of the nature to have ill health. There is no way to escape ill health.
I am of the nature to die. There is no way to escape death.
All that is dear to me and everyone I love are of the nature to change. There is no way to escape being separated from them.
My actions are my only true belongings. I cannot escape the consequences of my actions. My actions are the ground upon which I stand.
Reduce your stress and increase your joy and compassion with these four Buddhist virtues.
Alleviating suffering is at the core of all Buddhist teachings. More than any other Buddhist teachings, I’ve used these four qualities to regulate the emotional turmoil and difficult times while working in the hospital.
In Buddhism you will often hear these qualities called the “Four Boundless Abodes,” or “Four Brahma Viharas.” They are loving-kindness, compassion, sympathetic joy, and equanimity.
These qualities are the ultimate form of self-care and connect us to the innate goodness within ourselves and others. I believe it is the element of connecting us to others that make these so powerful, especially during these times of social isolation.
Loving kindness, the first quality, encourages us to always make the kindest choice. This means in our own inner narrative about ourselves and in the way we interact with other people.
Practicing loving-kindness to myself could mean being mindful of my own limitations and not beating myself up if I fall short. Another way of saying this is to make sure that we are treating ourselves with the same kindness we would offer someone we love.
As we interact with others it helps to assume everyone is doing the best they can with the skills and resources they have. This doesn’t mean we agree with their actions, but it reduces our suffering by allowing us to let go of what we think should happen and express kindness. Loving-kindness is cultivated in relationship to self and others.
The second quality of the Four Boundless Abodes is compassion. Compassion arises when we stay open to the suffering of another and begin to blur the lines of being separate from others.
Compassion encourages us to not turn away from suffering, but to lean into it. This is another way that practicing with all of our emotions allows us to be fuller, more tenderhearted human beings. Compassion is the nudge we need to take action that might reduce another person’s suffering.
Compassion, like loving-kindness, is rooted in relationship with others. But it’s important to recognize we can be compassionate to another person without taking on their suffering. Sometimes just being seen in our suffering is enough to transform it.
As a chaplain I often say that all I do is listen. People want their story to be heard and their suffering to be acknowledged. In this way, by simply being present, we give the invaluable gift of being seen.
The third quality, I believe, has the most potential to transform our relationship with others and to break down barriers that keep us from suffering alone. Sympathetic joy is the practice of feeling happy for other people’s joys and happiness.
In our culture that is focused on competition and winning at all cost, this can be a very difficult thing to do. Judgment, envy, comparison, greed, and many other things get in the way of experiencing sympathetic joy. However, sympathetic joy encourages us to transform those ugly feelings into the realization that our own happiness often depends on the joy and happiness of many other people.
Gratitude is a close cousin to sympathetic joy. Finding joy in ourselves and others is another way of expressing gratitude for how things are in the current moment. It also raises the awareness of goodness in the moment when sometimes we can’t find anything good about the current situation.
Last month experienced a moment of sympathetic joy when talking to a mental health provider in our emergency room. She told a story of a very difficult bi-polar patient that, in the end, told the nurse how grateful she was for her help. Seeing the joy on the nurse’s face as she told the story cultivated joy in my heart as I thought of how good it feels to be acknowledged for the work we do that is difficult and often unrewarding.
The last quality, equanimity, pulls everything together. It holds the best of all the other qualities
Equanimity is working with our heart-mind to create a calm, unbiased mind that can hold compassion, loving-kindness, and sympathetic joy, without getting swept up in toxic positivity, or not being able to let go when it’s time.
Equanimity grounds us in an open heart that isn’t attached to how things should be, but can accept things for how they are. My teacher Roshi Joan Halifax refers to this as having a firm-back and soft-front. She also says, often jokingly, that the current agenda is subject to reality.
These are hard times, and it’s important to give yourself permission to feel all the emotions freely and fully so that you can widen the swing of the pendulum of emotions.
And with the support of sympathetic joy, joy becomes more fulfilling. With compassion and loving-kindness, we can bring in the reality of impermanence and focus on the things that really matter because we haven’t pushed them off thinking we have more time or it won’t happen to us.
Below I’ve shared a few meditations on each of the four Boundless Abodes to use as you cultivate these qualities in your own life during this difficult time.
Loving-Kindness: May I accept all my emotions with an open my heart, knowing I am not limited by them.
May I be filled with love and kindness equally towards myself and others.Compassion: May I, and all beings, be free from suffering.
May I realize the truth of impermanence for myself and all beings.Sympathetic Joy: May I feel your joy as my own and my joy extend to all beings.
May I find peace and well-being so that I may be of service to others.Equanimity: May I accept all things as they are with an open heart and mind free of judgment.
May I be able to let go of expectations and accept things as they unfold. -
How to Recreate Meaning Now That the Pandemic Has Upended Life
EDITOR’S NOTE: You can find a number of helpful coronavirus resources and all related Tiny Buddha articles here.
“It’s not the events of our lives that shape us, but our beliefs as to what those events mean.” ~Tony Robbins
Like millions of others, I lost my job in the wave of the coronavirus pandemic. I was teaching on a small island in the Caribbean. I discovered a purpose through my work, loved the peaceful nature of the island, and, true to my introverted nature, loved living in my too-quiet community. It was a job and a life that I had dreamed of for years.
So, when we got the notification that we had to return home, I didn’t know how to react. Did it even make sense to be angry or sad or confused in the face of what felt like a cosmic slap? It wasn’t how this chapter of my life was supposed to turn out.
The world is currently locked in the grip of uncertainty. All the numbers and fears, the influx of information, it’s hard to grasp onto the railing when the floor keeps shifting.
Instinctively, many of us have created comfort in a cloud of normalcy. We’ve remade schedules, moved most of our interactions online, and explored new and old hobbies. I, of course, have done the same. After all, my life reset in the span of a week.
But how can I be okay when I’m staring down a hole where my purpose used to be? How can I stay standing when my life and work are hanging somewhere I can’t reach?
We Desire Meaning in our Lives
As humans, it’s important to have meaning in our lives, whether it’s through our relationships, our work, or our interests. Making a difference, making art, making a living—everyone has something that drives them. We need to discover our “why,” and that “why” is easier answered when we define our values.
It’s hard for me to live a life that isn’t true to who I am. I didn’t even know what a meaningful life looked like for a long time. The values I had weren’t fully realized, and I held them in shaky arms.
Finding the answer to my why was neither guided nor paved. After years and years of schooling and working that bore no fruit, I started doubting that my life could be more than me simply moving to the next thing. And when you’re just moving along, purpose is nothing more than an idea.
But when I found it, something in me thawed. The landscape changed. Moving along became moving with a purpose.
And then I lost it.
When I returned home, I struggled through an episode of disillusionment. Was there a point in trying? I reached out to my friend, and she provided me with a guidepost that I used to reframe my new life. Life is about connections with people. We all enrich the lives of others.
It’s wisdom I’ve heard before. It’s not esoteric. But I have always felt disconnected from people and from the world. So her words didn’t click until I looked back and realized what I had gained—an understanding of the world outside my bubble and a duty to put others above myself.
This meaning linked me to a world that I had always insulated myself from. It gave me a lens that I could better understand people through. It wasn’t just about me anymore. I have always valued helping others, but I learned that you have to step outside of yourself to really support and connect with others.
Losing that put me in that hole. My link had been severed by an outside force, and I had no idea if it would ever let me reconnect it. Insecurity crept in. Would I be forgotten? Did anything matter anymore?
I could let the pandemic answer those questions for me, or I could take my friend’s advice to heart.
Recreate Meaning When Meaning is Lost
Many of us have similar stories of losing important pieces of our lives. And those pieces are all tied to our personal stories. Meaning is an anchor that connects us to the world. Without it, we remain adrift. We’re just moving along.
The pandemic has robbed us of milestones, livelihoods, jobs, events, and so much more. We’re all searching for ways to fill the holes, and this is made much harder in this tense atmosphere. But we can recreate meaning to build and maintain our connections to ourselves and to others, especially in a world that reminds us that life is fragile.
1. Revisit your values.
Family, creativity, knowledge, fun, service. What do you find important in life? Our values cement our understanding of who we are and what we want. They lead us to the people and opportunities that fill our lives with meaning and joy.
Helping people—showing others love—is important to me. While I can’t currently help how I previously did, I am capable of showing love to friends, family, and those who need a hand. I believe love is how we can get through the pandemic.
Creating is something that I also value, namely writing. Journaling helps me connect to myself, and writing articles like this gives me the chance to help others.
Retell your story. Retrace the steps that led to your values.
2. Reconnect with loved ones old and new.
Like my friend stated, we all enrich the lives of others. Our people give us memories and share laughs with us. They pick us up when we’re down, point us forward when we’re looking backward, and remind us of what’s important when we’ve forgotten. They’ll help us through this crisis.
The urgency of the current climate can give us a nudge to reintroduce ourselves to our family and friends. We can discuss the things that matter to us. Connect with each other on a deeper level, since, for many, emotions are close to the surface. It’s okay if we needed the extra push to reconnect.
I am terrible at keeping in touch with others. Social isolation and concerns surrounding the virus, however, have pushed me to maintain and strengthen the connections I have. I don’t want to lose the link I established between myself and others.
And I’ve been grateful to have heard from people I haven’t spoken to in a long time. It’s reminded me that I mean something. Perhaps we can remind others that they mean something, too.
3. Engage in activities that are meaningful.
Our lives are more limited, and we can’t always control what we have access to. If we’re able, we can explore our hobbies more, start new ones, or engage in meaningful activities. Not for the sake of using our time productively or just to keep busy, but for the sense of calm and fulfillment it can bring to our spirits.
Even doing something as simple as playing a game, by ourselves or with loved ones, can be purposeful. Fun and relaxation mean something too.
I looked to reconnect to the world by creating. I started writing almost every day and began exploring graphic design, something I was always interested in. By keeping on a purposeful track, I kept myself from just moving along to the next thing. It keeps my spirits up.
4. Recreate milestones and events.
Many things may be canceled, but that doesn’t mean we can’t celebrate the important moments in our lives. They can still mean something even if they don’t happen normally. Many people have moved graduations, birthday celebrations, and other moments online.
If we desire to, we can recreate those moments in a way that is special to us. The internet is filled with examples of people who have celebrated or plan to celebrate in their own way. With a little creativity, we can bring that magic home.
Waiting for the world to return to normal is okay too. Sometimes we want the tried and true traditions. Meaningful is meaningful no matter how it is presented.
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Getting out of bed is hard some days. I often question the point of doing anything. To help move through this lost meaning, I’ve funneled as much of the chaos as possible into rediscovering new meaning.
The anxiety and uncertainty are overwhelming. The pandemic is challenging everything we know. But it’s important that we feed ourselves purpose when we’re able to. Our spirits burn brighter when they’re lit with that spark.
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What Hurts Us the Most in Unhealthy and Unloving Relationships
“Once we make our relationship choices in an adult way, a prospective partner who is unavailable, nonreciprocal, or not open to processing feelings and issues, becomes, by these very facts, unappealing. Once we love ourselves, people no longer look good to us unless they are good for us.” ~David Ricco
One thing I particularly love is caring about someone and loving them. Being able to do so gives me a great sense of connection, satisfaction, and purpose. It’s fulfilling, life-enhancing, and simply feels wonderful.
All my life I’ve chased relationships so that I could get the love I need. But I used to struggle with choosing suitable partners.
For my dreams to become a reality, I needed to choose partners who also wanted what I wanted. I needed people who also wanted to care and love someone—preferably me—and create a life together.
Instead, I chose emotionally unavailable people who either did not know how to create emotional connections or who simply didn’t want them.
And so, my dreams never became reality. What I experienced instead were highly distressing and unhealthy relationship dynamics.
I felt devastated that I wasn’t loved the way I wanted to be loved. I felt unliked and unwanted.
I may have been in a relationship, but I was, most certainly, alone. My ultimate nightmare. My deepest fear.
After way too many years in hopeless relationships, I had a huge insight that completely transformed my life and my experience of relationships.
And all of a sudden it dawned on me…
My pain in these relationships didn’t come from them not loving me. It came from me not loving them. It came from me loving them less and less with every unloving experience we had together.
In the beginning of the relationship, the positive, excited, and loving thoughts and feelings I had about them felt wonderful. I enjoyed imagining all the happy and fun times we’d have together. I was excited in their presence because I anticipated passion and intimacy.
And then none of that happened.
I felt crushed and disappointed, and yet, I kept soldiering on, wishing that they would change. I was hoping that I could earn their love and finally get the love I had been craving all my life.
But it didn’t happen.
Instead, I was called names, lied to, cheated on, dismissed, invalidated, shamed, rejected, and ignored.
And, without realizing it at the time because I felt too heartbroken about the way my partners behaved toward me, I stopped loving them. These experiences chipped away at my love, hope, and trust, and eventually, I stopped caring.
I went numb.
I lived my life and got by just fine on the outside, but there was a void within me. A quiet and hopeless state of surrender threaded through my days, months, and years.
Until my insight about where my feelings were coming from, I had always believed that my pain was caused by my uncaring and neglectful partners.
I hadn’t realized that I wasn’t giving myself an opportunity to care and love for someone the way I wanted to by staying with people who clearly weren’t interested in creating healthy and intimate relationships.
I was staying with partners for whom I had lost all respect, certainly didn’t love anymore, and also no longer cared for. I used to think that I still cared, but I know now that I mistook guilt for care.
I was so preoccupied with them not loving me that I didn’t even realize that I no longer loved them. And so I stayed. I stayed while being trapped in my codependent conditioning. And if it hadn’t been for my powerful insight, I probably would have continued that soul-destroying relationship pattern.
Freeing myself from that pattern has allowed me to figure out what I want and then make appropriate choices that enable me to get it.
I now know that I need to choose people who make it easy for me to love them, and that doesn’t mean that we need to agree on everything and never have arguments. It means that they value and respect the bond we have. It means that together, we keep it safe so we can continue to love and care freely.
Since then I have created healthy and fulfilling relationships—not just with others but especially with myself, something I had never even wanted in the past but that has been completely transformational for me, my emotional well-being, and surprisingly, for my relationships too.
I now share my codependency insights so others can free themselves from their codependent conditioning too by having their own realizations and insights. Because that is the only way to finally get the love you need.
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8 Quick and Easy Meditation Techniques to Calm Your Anxious Mind
Have you ever found it hard to motivate yourself to do something that was good for you, only to eventually do it, feel amazing, and wonder why you waited so long?
That’s what meditating was like for me. Even though I knew I could do it for only five minutes each day to feel calmer, less stressed, and more present, I found excuses not to do it regularly for years.
I’d tell myself five minutes wasn’t enough; I really needed thirty or more, and I didn’t have that time, so why bother?
I’d lament that I was too anxious to sit still (ironic, considering that I knew meditating could calm my anxiety).
I’d complain that my environment was too distracting (irony yet again, since meditation ultimately helps us focus and better deal with distractions).
And then there was my most commonly used excuse: “It just doesn’t work for me.”
Of course it didn’t “work.” I wasn’t meditating with any consistency. And when I did, I got impatient with my own busy brain, like watching the proverbial pot that wouldn’t boil, instead of simply easing into the experience.
I was approaching it with a perfectionist mindset, as if I needed to eventually have a completely clear mind to be “good at it.”
Everything changed for me when I realized I could meditate in many different ways, to suit my schedule, moods, and needs; and that the only goal was to show up, mindfully observe my inner life, and practice detaching from my thoughts.
It was okay if I never achieved complete mental clarity. The practice itself, with its mental messiness and mind wandering, was the path to more clarity in my daily life.
And it’s not just about mental clarity. Adopting a regular meditation practice—even just five minutes a day—can improve your sleep, regulate your mood, boost your resilience, and help ease and prevent a number of physical ailments.
No other habit positively impacts so many areas of your life simultaneously. Because meditation helps reduce anxiety, depression, stress, and anger, while improving your focus, presence, and physical health, it bleeds into all areas of your life—your work, your relationships, your hobbies.
Literally everything can transform, over time, with just five minutes each day.
Whether you’re new to meditation or just looking for some alternative ways to fit mindfulness into your daily life, you may enjoy trying one or more of my favorite practices, including…
1. Alternate Nostril Breathing
Hold your left nostril down with your left thumb and inhale through your right nostril. Then close your right nostril with your left index finger, so both are closed, and hold the breath. Release your left nostril only and exhale.
With your right nostril still closed, inhale through your left. Now close your left nostril with your thumb, so both nostrils are closed, and hold the breath. Release your index finger from your right nostril and exhale.
This is one set. Complete a minimum of five sets to harmonize the left and right hemispheres of your brain, calm your nervous system, and create a sense of relaxation and ease.
2. The 100-Breaths Technique
Close your eyes. Feel your back against your chair and your feet pressed firmly on the ground, then gently bring yourself into the present moment. Now start breathing through your nostrils and counting as you go, thinking “and” for every inhale, and the number for each exhale—inhale “and,” exhale “one”; inhale “and,” exhale “two.”
Feel your belly rise with each inhalation and let the breaths slow as you count yourself into a greater sense of relaxation. After you reach 100, open your eyes, move your fingers and toes, and bow your head in gratitude for the mental space you created.
3. Full Body Breath Scan
Start by inhaling through your nose, expanding your stomach, and counting to five. As you breathe in, visualize soothing warm light filling your feet, and then exhale through your lips for a count of five, while visualizing yourself releasing any tension you may have been carrying there.
Repeat this process for your ankles, your shins, your knees, and so on, all the way up to your head. After you finish scanning your entire body, you’ll likely feel lighter, calmer, and more at ease.
4. Lip-Touching Breathing
When aroused, your sympathetic nervous system puts you in a state of high alert—that sense of “fight-or-flight” panic that tells you there’s some sort of threat. Your parasympathetic nervous system, when aroused, produces the opposite feeling—a sense of relaxation and ease.
In his book Buddha’s Brain, Rick Hanson suggests a few simple ways to stimulate the parasympathetic nervous system—the simplest of which is to touch your lip with two fingers.
The lips contain parasympathetic nerve fibers, making this is a simple approach to create a sense of calm that you can use anywhere, anytime. To reap the benefits, all you need to do is touch your lips, breathe slowly, and tell yourself, “I am safe.”
5. Walking Meditation
Though you can practice this any time you’re walking, you may want to find a peaceful place to stroll, in nature. If it’s safe to walk barefoot, this will give you a sense of being more connected to the earth.
Stand with your spine straight, with your shoulders and arms relaxed, and take a few inhalations and exhalations to breathe in calming energy and breathe out tension.
Now begin slowly moving forward and sync your breathing with your steps—right foot, inhale; left foot, exhale. Use all of your senses to fully experience where you are—the warm feeling of sun on your face, the soft sound of wind rustling leaves on trees. The goal is not to arrive at a destination; it’s simply to be present in the experience of walking.
6. Meditative Shower
It’s easy to let go of all other thoughts when you’re standing under a stream of water, set to the perfect temperature for you.
Take this time to tune into your senses. Choose a soap you love so that the scent is intoxicating. Enjoy the sensation of the water on your skin, and feel it drip down your back, your calves, and your heels.
Notice when you begin thinking about the day ahead (or behind you). Don’t judge the thoughts or yourself for having them. Instead, visualize them going down the drain and then bring your focus back to the experience of cleansing your body and mind.
(I’ve included a detailed guide on this very topic, titled How to Make Your Shower Mindful, Blissful, and Rejuvenating, in my new Mindfulness Kit, which you can find here!)
7. Chore Meditation
Whether you’re vacuuming, dusting, or washing dishes, it can be your meditation if you immerse yourself completely in the activity.
Washing dishes, for example, can be both satisfying and grounding. Feel the warm water on your hands; let yourself enjoy the experience of making something dirty clean again. Don’t think about finishing or what you’ll do when you’re done. Focus solely on the doing and see if you can find a sense of acceptance and presence in doing it slowly and well.
8. Mindful Eating
Instead of eating quickly with one eye on your food and the other on your iPhone, turn mealtime into meditation. It doesn’t take long to eat, so why not put everything aside and take this time for you? Your texts, emails, and social media pages will still be there when you’re done.
Breathe deeply and try to identify the different nuances of scent in each item on your plate. When you’re eating, take deep breaths between each bite, and think about your meal like a foodie, appreciating the different flavors and textures.
If you find your thoughts wandering to things you’ve done or have to do, bring your attention to the feeling of the fork in your hand. Then breathe deeply, take a bite, and focus on savoring the food in front of you.
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You can incorporate any of these techniques into your day to begin to reap the benefits. And it really only takes five minutes, though you may be tempted to do more once you get started. Mindfulness just feels that good. In a world where it’s all too easy to get distracted and caught up in your thoughts and fears, there’s nothing quite as calming as a few moments of pure presence.
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How I Know I’m Strong (and You Are Too)
“If there’s ever a tomorrow when we’re not together, there’s something you should remember: You’re braver than you believe, and stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think. But the most important thing is, even if we’re apart, I’ll always be with you.” ~A.A. Milne
Two years ago, I was anticipating a monumental shift. I couldn’t tell you what had changed around that time, but my mindset was moving away from the brasher side of my natural, projected extroversion and seeking solace in the comforts of solitude.
It felt like the waves drawing back before a tsunami, and over the following two years, I certainly felt I was drowning more than once.
My dad was diagnosed with cancer; I went through breakups, work challenges, struggles with family and friendships; I was diagnosed with depression and had my first real experience of debilitating stress and panic attacks; then, last month, my dad (now, thankfully, cancer-free) had a heart attack, weeks after a very brave friend lost her own father to one.
I felt I had made peace with my version of bravery, understanding that sometimes the mere act of survival is itself a brave middle finger up to life’s relentlessness.
But alongside “brave,” another adjective I’ve struggled with over the past two years has been “strong.” I certainly feel like my strength has been tested.
When you are often described as “strong,” it can become a millstone around your neck. How do you live up to your duty of being strong for others when you’re struggling to be strong yourself?
In my darker moments, I perceive myself as very weak. When I sat down to journal about my dad’s heart attack, I was surprised that I wrote down how I felt too weak to withstand what could have happened to my dad, how I felt too weak to support my family at this time, how I felt too weak for life in general.
There have been many similar moments over the past two years where I have felt anything but strong. And yet, many beloved friends and mentors have described me as such. Sometimes I want to tell them I’m a fraud, projecting cheery strength, when some days, inside I’m just mustering up all I can to get by.
And then, as I was journaling, it hit me. This is strength. If we are still here, we are strong. We are Darwin’s fittest. If we are living through personal struggle, if we are coping with this anxiety-inducing pandemic, if we are still capable of doling out however small a portion of love to ourselves, our family, our friends, our neighbors, our community, our strangers, then surely we must be strong?
Strength is not always an action. Strength is daily bravery; strength is allowing yourself to feel; strength is choosing to love.
Strength is my mum carrying on and stroking my hair as I slept in her bed; strength is my dad allowing me the space to cry when he has his own pain. To be strong is to be “able to withstand force, pressure, or wear.” What are we doing as a species right now if not choosing to withstand?
So in the midst of my much-needed mope, I realized I had two choices: to buckle under the force of my fears of this pandemic and what it could do to the more vulnerable members of my family, the pressure of all that has occurred over the past two years, the wear of my reserves, or, inevitably, to choose to withstand.
And, as the word implies, that requires standing with others. Letting my loved ones see my tears, sharing my sadness with them, giving them the space and the safety to share their own, allowing moments for hope and positivity to emerge from our shared anxiety. Choosing, in other words, to stand as the lighthouse in the storm.
The world is going to present you with a lot of fear and reason for panic at the moment. Withstand the depressing onslaught of the media; withstand the urge to clear the shelves of penne; withstand the mental self-isolation that these times could bring.
Stand with your community (even if you’re two meters apart): if you are well, reach out to people who may need your assistance; if you’re not, share messages letting people know they’re not alone. There’s strength in numbers.
Notwithstanding, there will always be moments when we feel our strength and our capacity to withstand is just not enough. In those moments, I turn to the immortal words of A.A. Milne. If even Winnie the Pooh needed reminding of this sometimes, then it’s more than okay that we do too:
“If there’s ever a tomorrow when we’re not together, there’s something you should remember: You’re braver than you believe, and stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think. But the most important thing is, even if we’re apart, I’ll always be with you.”
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Family Estrangement: 3 Stories and the Advice You Need to Hear
“Home is not a place, it’s a feeling.” ~Cecilia Ahern
This post is written by three people from different parts of the world who came together to share their story of family estrangement and their choice not to reconcile.
To the outside world, it seemed none of us were neglected. Our parents were well-educated. We grew up in decent homes, were given good educational opportunities, and had financial support. We looked like we came from perfect families, but….
Jen’s Story
On March 24, 2019, I received a chilling text from my sister that Grandma was found unconscious in her home and rushed to the hospital. Her pancreatic cancer had progressed, and it seemed the time Grandma had left was like grains of sand in an hourglass.
From that moment on, all I could think about was how much I wanted to tell my grandma I loved her, to hold her hand, and to share how grateful I was for all of her love despite being estranged from my parents.
Without thinking, I quickly jumped into action. As my husband helped me book flights and accommodations, I canceled appointments and made arrangements to make up the work I’d miss so I could spend my grandmother’s final breaths with her.
At the airport, I made notes about all the things I wanted to tell Grandma. Would I get to see her, or would I be too late? While these thoughts raced through my mind, my sister continued to text me a very grim picture. My thoughts punched me in the stomach as I reminisced over the ways Grandma had made my life wonderful.
When I was growing up, Grandma was the parent I looked up to. She always had a creative solution for everything. I called her when I felt down, when I needed advice, or when something good happened in my life because she always shared my joy. I always felt encouraged, and so I truly aspired to be like her.
Because I was so focused on reminiscing on our wonderful times, I didn’t stop to consider the reality of seeing my parents again. At that point, I had not seen them since 2004, had grieved the loss of them in silence as if they had died, and had tried to heal the wounds of an abusive childhood.
When I entered my grandmother’s hospital room, her eyes were closed, and she looked very gray. I took this moment in, just being alone with her, and then suddenly she opened her eyes. I could see her face fill with so much joy, but then just as quickly it suddenly turned to intense rage.
“You are the last person I wanted to see!” she exclaimed, pulling the blankets around herself. “What if you run into your mother—what if you upset the family?”
I was stunned. I hadn’t thought of any of these things because my mind was so focused on her.
“Would you like me to leave?” I whispered.
“No dear, I am glad that you’re here, but I don’t want you upsetting the family.”
My grandmother was right. I hadn’t taken the time to reflect on how I would respond to seeing my parents again, what I’d say, or how I’d choose to engage with them. I also hadn’t considered how they might engage with me.
No sooner than I realized this, suddenly, my mother walked past my grandmother’s hospital room. Without thinking, I rushed over to hug her. I asked her if she was okay with me being there, and we had a short, respectful conversation.
But, after our interaction, I began to feel physically ill. My body tightened, and I found it hard to breathe properly. Feelings of deep longing washed over me, and I found myself fantasizing about having a supportive adult relationship with both of my parents again.
Later that day, in a flight of emotion, I called my parents and had a decent conversation with my father. I gave him my phone number and told him I would be willing to reconnect again. Looking back, I see this was a detrimental mistake—a mistake that filled me with hurt and longing.
During my visit, I noticed when I was not with my grandmother, I became preoccupied with false hope. A strong desire came over me wishing my parents would call me. I was hoping they’d also apologize for the hurt that they had caused me over the course of my life, and that this time, maybe things would be different. I fantasized about my parents taking an interest in my life without judgment.
Had I really taken the time to reflect on how I would respond to the situation away from the emotion of the moment, I would not have gotten caught up in false hope or fairy-tale notions of reconciliation.
I would have thought back to why I made the choice to cut off contact with my parents in the first place, and that door would have forever remained closed. I would have accepted that behind that door is a past that has shaped me, that continues to haunt me, and still has some power to hurt me in the present if I were to open it again.
Magdalena’s Story
My phone pinged in December 2019 notifying me of a text message. I jumped a little, and then even more so when I realized that the message was from Dad. I pressed the “Read” button cautiously:
“Is it possible we can meet up face-to-face to talk about this situation?” the message asked.
For a moment, I thought it sounded like a reasonable request, but then all of a sudden, a million emotions raced through my body like fear, hope, anger, longing, and worry.
Prior to receiving Dad’s text, I had become increasingly aware over the years that my relationship with my parents hadn’t been healthy. My parents’ reactions to challenges had ranged from threats of suicide and physical threats of violence against my partner and me to emotional manipulation.
Since I had become a parent myself, it became abundantly clear that my ideas on parenting clashed with theirs, which is not necessarily uncommon; however, I became more aware of the dysfunction within our family and decided to do something about it by choosing limited contact in March 2019.
As I sat there, pondering Dad’s text, I considered lots of scenarios: Could things be different this time? Could we possibly compromise? What could I do to make this easier? But, I also noticed just how cautious I was because, sadly, previous attempts at reconciliation had disintegrated badly into unsolved drama, severe insults, and horrible disrespect.
I regularly felt my parents diminished and ridiculed my concerns. Their sense of entitlement was always so overwhelming, which simply made balanced discussions impossible.
Over the years, I’d been patient with my parents’ dysfunctional behavior and my mother’s mental health, which had significantly deteriorated, but she refused to admit it. My therapist has highlighted several times that, while having a mental health problem is common, it doesn’t excuse poor treatment of others, and therefore, my mother will always be responsible for her actions, both good and bad.
Meanwhile, my father has clearly crumbled under the weight of my mother’s emotional instability, yet he continues to support her unhealthy and dysfunctional behavior as a means of safeguarding himself.
Again, I thought that if I agreed to respond to his text and meet, I would resolve not to engage in any provocations, but rather calmly listen to what they have to say while attempting to positively direct the focus of the conversation. As I sat in trepidation, I felt somewhat hopeful yet wary.
I decided to respond to my father’s text and ask to meet somewhere public to minimize the risk of great drama. My parents agreed and I started to feel hopeful.
Unfortunately, it became clear almost immediately that my mother had an alternative agenda. Almost immediately, she told me I am a disgrace and my own children will one day turn on me as I have on her. She called me an evil witch and a marble-hearted fiend.
The insults she bombarded me with slipped out of her mouth easily and effortlessly leaving me to shake while lowering my head. It was obvious she hated my cool response, and it felt like my father was clueless as to what was happening in front of his eyes.
True-to-form, my father accused me of insulting my mother due to my silence. I explained I had genuinely come to meet them with the hope of starting to build some bridges, and that it felt like, just as my father and I were starting to make those tiny steps, my mother decided to deliver some killer blows, which ultimately derailed everything.
My father told me I am a waste of space and I never had any intention at reconciling at all. Together, they both agreed they’ve created a demon while dramatically walking out of the café. That pretty much concluded the “peace negotiations.”
I sit in a shocked state again. I question, why did I do this to myself again? The answer is, I had fallen prey to my dreams of wanting joyful Christmases with my whole family, as well as wishing for simple picnics in the garden where I had played as a kid.
Now, I just feel stuck. I realize I miss not having parents with all my heart but, I can’t have any contact with them because it is too damaging. It’s time to acknowledge that while relationships can be difficult, healthy relationships don’t play out like this.
CJG’s Story
“Could there ever be a genuine chance of reconciling with my parents,” I asked my therapist in January 2020.
He reminds me, “If you want to reconcile with your family, remember there’ll always be a ‘hit’ for every kiss you get. So, keep in mind, it’s kiss-hit, kiss-hit.” Taking that in, I say, “I’m just too old to take the hits anymore. I only want kisses.
I’ve been estranged from my family since 2018. It’s been an ongoing vacillating back-and-forth of wondering how it would be to reconcile. Estrangement has been the hardest decision I’ve made, but choosing not to reconcile is harder. Despite this struggle, I’ve chosen to remain estranged.
I didn’t think I was unloved as a child because my father was extremely affectionate, said “I love you,” and attended my sporting competitions. Nightly, my mother made sure my homework was done correctly, and we sat down as a family to have homemade dinners cooked by my grandmother or mother.
My household felt every bit “family,” but it was also a place full of tension, unsaid thoughts, extreme stress, debilitating confusion, radical rage, and countless secrets.
Growing up I overlooked the weeks my mother would ignore me for no reason, despite me begging her to tell me how I could fix whatever I’d done. I’d apologize profusely while sobbing and pleading with her to speak to me so I would feel loved again.
Instead, she prided herself on knowing she could ignore an eight-year-old child without any reason. Suddenly, she’d just start talking to me as though nothing had ever happened. And, like most children, I’d forget the pain she’d caused over those weeks.
Nightly, my father watched the Playboy channel on the family television. He’d rush me and my sibling off to bed very early so he could get his fix.
Most nights, I’d have nightmares, groggily walk down the stairs in hopes of some comfort, but would be yelled at instead because I’d caught glimpses of the explicit images my parents were watching. Confused and not soothed, I’d walk back up to my room and wet the bed. The following morning, my father would shout and degrade me for yet another bedwetting incident.
I’ve always been mindful not to shame my parents. I was trained to “never air our dirty laundry.” Yet, it never dawned on me just how much “dirty laundry” we actually had. I didn’t realize what they were so afraid of and why it was imperative to condition us to ensure we were never exposed. I just assumed all the stuff happening in our home happened in everybody’s else’s homes, too.
Parents like mine are more concerned with what the “neighbors think” than how their children feel. They work hard keeping up appearances rather than emotionally supporting their children. They live out the fantasy of having the perfect family while destroying it with double-standards, hypocrisy, betrayal, and cognitive dissonance.
I was actively a part of this family-fantasy till 2018. I ignored physical and emotional cues, as well as frightening memories for years, to be loyal and loving to my family. I focused only on the “good times” and suppressed abuses, covert sabotaging, and extreme enmeshment.
I feel heartbroken and ashamed this is the truth of the family I grew up with and wanted to know for the rest of my days. Despite admitting these truths, I’ll always love them, and that’s what makes it hard not to reconcile.
Our Advice to Readers
If you’re struggling over reconciling, you’re not alone. Your parents helped make this inevitable choice with you through whatever behaviors they exhibited that ultimately brought on the estrangement.
Some advice to remember:
Keep your “why” handy. Write a list of reasons you feel can’t have a relationship with your family. Review this “why” list often. Your “why” may include displays of stonewalling, silent treatment, feeling physically ill after contact with them, severe abuse, covert sabotaging, betrayal, gossiping, enmeshment, and triangulating, for example.
Leave out the “shoulds.” If you’re saying things like, “I should reconcile with my family,” or, “I should reunite because society tells me I should,” then try to feel twice.
Feeling twice is tuning into your body rather than your logic. Here are some ways to help you do that: Close your eyes, place your hand on your stomach or heart. Notice your body’s cues when you think of reconciling. Are your palms sweaty? Is your heart racing? Do you swallow heavily? Do you feel a sense of dread and panic or do you feel a sense of joy and fulfillment over reconciling?
Take your time. It can be hard if you have a family member who is ill, aging, or dying, but it’s important to remember that estrangement did not happen overnight. You made this choice after years of ongoing toxicity and dysfunction. So, go slowly with this process, too.
Be realistic about what could happen if you reconnect and envision honestly the best- and worst-case scenarios. Take time to reflect over a period of weeks. Consulting with a therapist can help, as this process can bring up feelings of pain and longing.
Ask what’s “value-added?” What’s the emotional value added if you reconcile with your parents? What’s the value added if you don’t?
Tune into the truth: Do you see any evidence that the person or people you’re estranged with have grown? Do your values and their values align or not? Will reuniting with them compromise your healing plan?
Lastly, make a list of non-negotiables. Reconciliation can only happen if your family agrees to committing to your list and understands the consequences if they violate your deal-breakers.
We have all walked away from our families of origin, let go of the hope for fairy-tale ending, and fought to discard society’s romanticized notions of reconciliation. We have found peace, our health and well-being have improved, and we all lead happy, meaningful lives. You can too.
