Tag: wisdom
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How to Live a Life You Love (Even If Others Doubt You)
“Not all those who wander are lost.” ~J.R.R. Tolkien
I will always remember those words.
I had just decided to ditch my old life. Instead of pursuing a cushy career as a lawyer, I wanted to create a business as a freelance writer because it felt like a fulfilling thing to do.
“You’ll never make it work. You’ll regret your decision,” a loved one told me.
Those words pushed my buttons. I felt scared.
What if I would regret it?
Was I stupid, even delusional, for thinking there was an alternative to living a pre-planned life with a secure nine-to-five and a mortgage?
Maybe I did think too much of myself, my abilities, and my potential? Maybe I was setting myself up for disaster?
How to Find the Courage to Live a Life You Love
Doubt is everywhere, isn’t it?
People around you expect you to live your life in a certain way.
Go to a good school, get a job that pays a comfortable salary, buy a house…
And if you don’t? If you break the norm and live life differently? Whether that’s driving around the country in an RV, becoming a full-time yoga teacher in the Himalayas, or starting a passion project…
Let’s put it this way. You will see a lot of raised eyebrows and hear a lot of surprised questions and doubtful side-remarks.
I’m sure you know what I’m talking about. Comments like:
“Why would you want anything other than what you already have? Don’t be so ungrateful.”
“There is no way that will work out.”
“Are you sure this is the best thing to do? Wouldn’t it be better to just stick to where you are now and see how it pans out?”
The problem with constantly being questioned by everyone around you?
Well, let’s take me as an example. When I heard those doubtful words (and many like them), I took them to heart.
I subconsciously started believing them and created what in psychology is known as a self-fulfilling prophecy. When you believe something about yourself, that influences what you do and, consequently, your results.
For example, if you internalize what others say about your choices, you won’t believe you can succeed. And that means you won’t, because you’ll never even get started.
But here is the good news:
You can get past all that doubt. You can find the courage you have within you to not only take a step forward but also to live life fully without looking back. Here’s how:
1. Find positive examples around you.
Think about someone who has succeeded at what you want to do—someone with a similar background, resources, skills, etc., or even fewer advantages.
If they have succeeded, why couldn’t you?
Let me tell you a secret (shh, no one else will know!):
If someone else has done it, you likely can, too.
I realized this early on.
While, yes, the people around you might not understand how you can succeed, it’s enough that you do.
This was a tool I used to stay confident and focused whenever someone told me (or hinted) that I should give up on my dream.
I sought out and thought about people who had already made it happen.
People who weren’t so different from me.
If they could do it, I could, too.
2. Send love and light to everyone around you.
In Eat, Pray, Love, Liz Gilbert gets the following advice to get over David, her ex:
“Send him some love and light every time you think about him, then drop it.”
One of the biggest insights I had was that people don’t doubt us because they want to hurt us.
No. Instead, they’re probably concerned about us.
After all, if all their life they have only seen one thing work, it’s hard to see past anything but that way of life.
Or maybe they’re projecting their own fears and insecurities on us.
The thing is:
We love security above almost anything else.
If you defy that security, it makes you odd.
So when they doubt you, it tells you nothing about your own abilities, but everything about their own fears and insecurities.
However, their words can have a purpose. Maybe it’s to shatter your ego a bit so that you can come out of it stronger. Or it’s to give you a few bumps along the way so that you won’t get comfortable and take things for granted.
Whatever it is, use the advice that helped Liz live in peace to get past their words.
Send them love and light, then drop it.
3. Words don’t define you. You do.
Here’s the thing:
Other people’s words define you only if you let them.
At the end of the day, you create your own reality.
Words are just words. You might say someone is “too straightforward,” but someone else might be appreciative of that person’s honesty.
I can’t tell how much this helped me move past all the doubt.
Yes, there were people expressing their subjective reality.
But it didn’t have to be mine.
I realized that I get to define who I am and what I’m capable of. And so do you.
For example, if someone told you that you are “too emotional,” that doesn’t mean that you are too emotional or that being emotional is even a bad thing. That’s just their perception based on their unique set of beliefs, experiences, and projections.
So how do you remind yourself of what a miracle worker you are?
Write down all the things you appreciate about yourself. They could be qualities you like or nice things others have said about you.
Every morning, look at that list.
Someone that awesome has a high chance of succeeding with whatever they choose to do, right? Or at the very least, that person will learn, grow, and have one hell of an adventure.
4. Become that supportive person you want in your life.
If you’ve been allowing doubters to hold you back, it’s time to start letting supportive people into your life.
People who cheer you on and make you believe you can do everything you want to do, and more.
Well, it can all start with you.
When I started offering encouraging words to others, I began attracting people who gave appreciation back.
The most striking example was when I emailed someone whose writing I had found online and enjoyed. I told her how much I appreciated it. She wrote me back and thanked me… and we’ve been friends ever since! Not only that, but she’s had an incredibly positive impact on my life by being extremely supportive and encouraging.
That’s it. These four steps helped me get past doubt, find my courage, and live life as I want to live it.
Today I’m able to work and live anywhere and live a flexible and (in my definition) free life. I couldn’t be happier that I stuck with my decision.
What’s that one thing you’re keeping yourself from doing?
Practice these new mindset shifts daily. Soon enough, you will find that courage you have within you to live life exactly the way you want to live it.
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Free Up Your Space: Two Simple Questions for Easy Decluttering
“Owning less is better than organizing more.” ~Joshua Becker
There are lots of reasons to declutter—to free up space, to pare down belongings in advance of a move, to release any possessions that weigh you down emotionally, and to make room for new things to come into your life. And there’s another reason, though people don’t usually realize it: to reduce stress and overwhelm.
The more stuff you have, the more time, energy, and money you need to devote to maintaining it, and the more likely you feel anxious in your cramped and potentially disorganized space.
I declutter two to three times a year now, but my biggest decluttering was the one I did five years ago prior to moving in with the man who is now my husband.
We each owned fully furnished three-bedroom houses. After much negotiation, we had decided to sell my split-level house and keep his rancher.
My first step was to create two wee signs for myself. Both read, “Official Policy: Get rid of anything that does not bring pleasure, beauty, or purpose into my life.” On days when I became a bit muddled, those signs helped.
My second step was realizing that there really are only two options when decluttering: “keep” or “get rid of.” There are, however, subsets to each of those categories.
For “keep,” you must decide whether it’s being kept in storage of some sort (and what that might be—attic/basement/garage or rented storage space—or incorporated into your space.
For “get rid of,” you have to decide whether it’s going to a specific person, being donated somewhere (and, if so, where), being sold, or being thrown out.
Having worked into the “whats” of decision-making, I figured it might make sense to talk a bit about how to make these sorts of decisions, since it’s the rare person who is going to decide based solely on “what I like best” or “what fits in my new place.”
One of the things my sweetheart and I did was decide what we were going to keep based on what we called a “must have” list.
For each room, we decided what items we must have for the room to function properly. For our master bedroom, we decided we needed a bed, two nightstands, a TV stand with a TV, and one dresser.
Once we had our list together, we focused solely on our necessities and figured out which items from where we were going to use to fill those needs. Only after we made those decisions did we add extras (like, say art for the walls, candlesticks, and the part of my hoard of crafting supplies that I kept).
Making the list was simple. Deciding whose stuff got to fill the role of “dining table” or “dresser” or “bed” was a bit less simple, but we worked through it with love and dogged persistence.
Here’s what I learned after decluttering and downsizing two full homes to merge them into one: You really only have to ask yourself two key questions:
1. Do you love each object that you are considering?
2. Do you use the object in question?
You can actually start these in either order, because every single item has to jump through both hoops.
1. Do you love it?
You really ought to. Because life is too short to be surrounded by things you dislike or that you find oppressive to your spirit.
If you despise an item, why would you want to keep it? (And yeah, I get “familial guilt” and all, but still. if you don’t have space in your new place and you don’t like it, this is the sort of stuff that you should be thinking of liberating, in hopes it will find someone who really does like it.)
For clothing, optimally you should love the color, the style, the fit, and the way you feel in it, but realistically, I go with “what I like and wear and don’t mind being seen in.”
For items, it means you should enjoy seeing them or using them. It’s kind of hard to love a can opener, but say you have two, and one hurts your hand and the other doesn’t, it’s pretty easy to decide you love the pain-free one. (If you have two and they both hurt your hand, which happened to me, then do what I did and get rid of them both!)
And for items you’re keeping for nostalgia, a box of letters from an ex, for example, you’ll have to dig deep and be honest with yourself about whether this actually serves you, or just drags you down. You may have loved them in the past, but is it self-loving to hold on to them?
If you’ve asked yourself if you love something, or if you at least don’t dislike it, you still have to proceed to the next question:
2. Do you use it?
For clothing, this means “Do you wear it?” And not in an “ever in life” way, but in a “within the past twelve months” way.
If not, you probably ought to let it go, although I do believe in making the very occasional exception for this category as long as you have the storage space. That last caveat is very important.
If you are crowding all of your stuff in order to keep a bunch of “maybe/just in case/but I can’t get rid of that dress/sweater/coat” items, then you are making every single day of your life harder than it needs to be. Because when your stuff is jam-packed, you can’t readily get to the stuff that fits, and that you wear.
For every other usable item in the house, the same “within the past twelve months” rule applies. Possibly you only use that huge platter for turkey on Thanksgiving, and that’s cool—when next Thanksgiving comes, you’re still going to need it.
If there’s “stuff,” though, that you haven’t used in ages, then you aren’t using it, and it’s a prime candidate for going. This was true, for example, of the ice cream machine I got rid of. On the one hand, it had been in the house for about thirteen years, so it was old; on the other hand, it had never been used—not even once—so it was brand new.
As for stuff that has no practical purpose, like décor items, some people might think those are non-essentials, or are somehow non-functional. The purpose that they serve is to decorate your space and bring joy into your life. If they are something that brightens your life, and both you and your partner love it and have space to display or store it, you should keep it.
Lastly, this tip from Yoda (sort of):
3. Do or do not. There is no try “maybe.”
Lots of decluttering gurus advocate creating a “maybe” pile for things that you can’t make an immediate decision about. I chose not to allow for it when we were downsizing as well as decluttering.
The reason I chose not to use a “maybe” pile is because if you say “maybe,” you are essentially making a decision now to make the decision later, which isn’t really solving anything.
It’s kind of like the advice when sorting through mail to not handle things twice if you can avoid it. If it’s trash/recycling, put it there right away, so you don’t have to go through the mail again later; if it’s filing, file it. So I opted as much as possible for immediate “keep” or “get rid of.”
Five years on, there isn’t a thing we got rid of that my husband and I miss. There are, however, some things that we initially kept that we’ve since let go. Such is the way of decluttering.
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It’s Not Selfish to Want to Thrive, and I Now Know I Deserve It
“To create more positive results in your life, replace ‘if only’ with ‘next time.” ~Celestine Chua
I’m twenty-nine-and-a-half and I’ve finally committed to pursuing my dreams of becoming a singer/musician/songwriter, actress, and screenwriter.
But most importantly, I finally feel allowed to live the life I want to live.
I’ve struggled with anxiety and depression on and off since I was fifteen. My coping mechanism always looked the same: isolating myself in my room, listening to music, and making up stories or music videos to go along with songs. I loved to refine these little scenes, repeating the songs over and over again for hours.
Sometimes, the highlight of my day was when I got to go back to my room and listen to that song again—when I got to go back into my dream world.
I didn’t realize then how much I preferred this dream world to my own reality. I’d become disengaged from my friends and family. All I wanted was to go home to my imagination.
Recently, I learned of the term “maladaptive daydreaming,” a mental condition in which a person is in a state of intense daydreaming that distracts them from their actual life. Some say this condition has roots in OCD and ADHD/ADD.
I’m still unable to confirm if I had this or not. But I do know that daydreaming was a coping mechanism I was heavily dependent on to keep my mood up. Because otherwise, my reality always depressed me.
I had dreams of singing on stage, writing insightful scenes, and creating beautiful films. But it all seemed too selfish. Like I shouldn’t feel allowed to “indulge” in my fantasies. Also, it felt self-centered. How dare I want to be the center of attention?
When I finally woke up and got tired of my daydream state, I instantly regretted how much time I had “wasted.”
I would try, obsessively, to make up for this time by scheduling productive activities in my planner. They were reasonable, too: Exercise for just thirty minutes. Read just ten pages of that book you’ve had on your shelf for three months. But no matter what activity I tried to start, I always ended up back in my comfort zone: my dream world.
At first, it was just hours at a time that I lost when I had originally wanted to do my homework. Then it was weekends when I had planned to start a new hobby. And then weeks, months, and years passed. I mostly existed in my daydreams. Reality was just that other thing I had to do during the day.
Somehow, I still managed to maintain a somewhat normal-looking life on the outside. I actually worked great jobs in marketing and nonprofit, exercised a lot, and generally stayed healthy. I took quite good care of myself. Most of my reality wasn’t too hard. But I still didn’t love it.
I only did what made me appear “together” and “secure.” I didn’t live passionately.
When I was around twenty-six, I finally took a first step toward what I really wanted to do by signing up for singing and acting lessons and starting to learn screenwriting. However, I was still holding back. Why? I still didn’t feel like I deserved it. It still seemed selfish.
Also, people made me anxious. I grew up in an Asian household where gaslighting was the cultural norm, so I was extremely sensitive. I hated being teased and felt fake whenever I hung out with my friends. I didn’t like engaging socially or presently for too long because I felt like I was losing myself.
Only later did I realize that many other people were like this. But back then, trying to find solace in anything outside of my dream world just didn’t feel safe. I preferred to daydream a life where people were easier to digest.
At about twenty-eight, I started to get weird digestive issues. It started with gastritis, a condition in which the stomach is inflamed. It didn’t seem too bad and I thought it’d go away after taking medication. Then came the kicker, the persistent fireball that demanded I pay attention to it: acid reflux.
If you’ve experienced chronic acid reflux, you know the struggle. Doctors can’t seem to find a consensus as to the best cure.
I cut down on spicy foods, acidic foods, the usual suspects. This barely seemed to help. Everything seemed to trigger it. I was freaking out every other night before I went to sleep. What if this never stops? How much damage has this done to my throat? Will I eventually get throat cancer?
And the hardest question I had to face: Will this damage my vocal cords? Will this deter my singing?
I had been taking voice lessons, as I was told I had a lovely singing voice, and I was doing well, but I shied away from performances.
Now that there was a risk of not singing to my full capacity, I finally wanted to pursue my true potential. I couldn’t just dream it anymore. I had to take action, while I had the chance
For about a year, I pushed my doctor, nutritionist, GI doctor—anyone who could find a cure—to help me. They kept treating me like I was stupid. I was simply anxious. That’s all, right? They kept telling me it was just stress, but the condition worsened.
I then developed a bacterial issue in my small intestine as a result of the medication that was supposed to help stop my acid reflux. Then I found out that my gallbladder wasn’t working properly.
I was furious. I cried to my parents every night. I was terrified to eat anything. In addition to avoiding acidic foods, I cut out gluten, dairy, and foods that would give me bloating (which was, well, quite a bit). I basically had a panic attack every time I ate.
Was this punishment? Was this really all a result of the anxiety that had festered and grown after years of running away from life to my dream world? Had I neglected myself?
Then came my twenty-ninth birthday. I hated my birthdays. They were just another marker of another year I had wasted not living fully. But I decided then that this year would be different.
So, I made my plans again. And of course I had false starts and re-starts, but I’ve kept at it. I went to therapy. I took acting classes and humiliated myself (in a good way). I signed up for a singing showcase. My singing voice, despite the bit of damage done so far, has sounded better than it ever has before. And I’m starting to make friends I feel comfortable with.
It was alarmingly apparent that my doctors weren’t treating me right, so I began telling them off, realizing in the process that I was fighting for my best reality. I was demanding to feel deserving.
I now know I don’t just deserve to live healthy; I deserve a life where I thrive. It is not selfish. It is vital to one’s well being.
I’m now working with an integrative health doctor who has recommended natural remedies and all but entirely cured my health problems. I also credit myself for a large portion of that. I do daydream still, but now I utilize it as a motivator for my creativity instead of retreating into my mind as a way to avoid life.
I’m grateful for all forms of my existence—from my imagination that has the beautiful capacity for daydreams, to my physical body that does everything it can to heal itself.
I often wonder, though, why did it have to take a threat to my vocal cords for me to finally start singing? And why did I have to become sick before I could appreciate my body’s capabilities and start taking care of it?
Maybe I had to be shaken awake from my daydreams before I could start living fully and making my dreams a reality. I had to learn it the hard way, but I now know this to be true: We all not only deserve to thrive, we need to thrive in order to be our best, healthiest selves—but only we can make it happen. And it starts with believing we’re worthy and pushing ourselves to take a chance.
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My Life with an Alcoholic Parent (and 6 Addiction Myths)
“Be the person who breaks the cycle. If you were judged, choose understanding. If you were rejected, choose acceptance. If you were shamed, choose compassion. Be the person you needed when you were hurting, not the person who hurt you. Vow to be better than what broke you—to heal instead of becoming bitter so you can act from your heart, not your pain.” ~Lori Deschene
Take a moment to look around where you are right now. Look at the people surrounding you, whether you’re in your office, a waiting room, or the line at the post office.
Statistically, one out of every eight American adults in your space is suffering with a substance abuse disorder.
This person could be your next-door neighbor, your family doctor, your teacher, or a co-worker.
Out of more than 15 million people struggling, less than 8% reportedly have received treatment, according to the National Institute of Alcohol Abuse and Alcoholism.
Television shows and movies often lead us to believe that the people who suffer from addiction are the homeless, jobless people on the street who beg for money to feed their habit.
In some circumstances, this unfortunately is true, but I’ve learned that addiction can also be found in the people around you in your day-to-day life. Addiction doesn’t care which zip code you live in or what skin color you have. It doesn’t matter how much money you have in your bank account or what kind of position you hold within a company.
I was around five or six years old when I first recognized that my dad had a problem. I didn’t know what the word “addiction” meant; however, I knew his actions made me feel that our family was different than others.
It would be summertime and I would see neighbors sitting outside laughing together and barbecuing, and being that it was starting to get late in the day, my dad had already drank a few too many and would be inside for the night.
The National Institute on Drug Abuse estimates that a quarter of children in the U.S. grow up in households where there is substance abuse.
Growing up with a parent who has an addiction isn’t easy. You see them transform into a different person before your eyes. Within hours. You wonder why they choose to spend time with the addiction instead of with you.
You can cry, scream, and slam your bedroom door to try to make a point of how much it hurts you, but it never seems to be enough. And it doesn’t mean this person doesn’t love or care about you, although it can make you feel that way.
At a young age, I remember experiencing the ups and downs of a parent with an addiction. Each day would be different than the last. Some days he would joke and laugh, and others, we would do anything to avoid him because we knew he’d take out on us the weight of whatever he had been carrying that day.
My dad was considered a “functioning alcoholic.” I don’t recall him ever missing one day of work, even when he had the flu or after spraining his ankle.
By trade, he was a carpenter and scaffolder, and to this day, he is the hardest working man I’ve ever known. He’d wake up before the sun to get to work so he could provide for us. He went above and beyond to care, love, and protect us, but after a certain time of day, we knew that would all come to an end.
The classic picture of an alcoholic is someone who drinks too much and whose life is falling apart because of it. But that’s not always reality.
A functioning alcoholic might not act the way you would expect them to act. They might be responsible and productive. They could even be a high achiever and in a position of power. In fact, their success might lead people to overlook their drinking.
Alcohol and drugs steal away the person you love. They rob you of time you should be spending with them. They turn them into someone else—a person who says and does hurtful things. And in turn, you might say hurtful things back. Not because you want to, but because you simply don’t know what else to do. You begin thinking of what you can do to turn this person around. What will make them stop?
I grew up with a parent who had an addiction to numbing his feelings.
There were times when he would open up briefly about the hardships he had experienced growing up and how hurt and angry they made him feel. Rather than forgiving those who’d caused him pain, to free himself of what he kept bottled up inside, he would drink to relieve it.
It hurts to see someone you love hurting. It hurts to not know what to do to help them.
My dad never admitted to having a problem. Not once. Not even when we poured the cans of beer we’d found down the sink and he became excessively angry.
Admitting to having a problem is the first step, and the next would be to make a change. And it wasn’t something he believed he could do.
Sometimes it feels easier to stay the same than do what’s needed to rid yourself of the addiction. You feel ‘safe’ where you are, and you can easily justify maintaining the status quo. My dad had a job, a family, a nice home. In his mind, why would he need to change? That wasn’t what rock bottom looks like. So everything must have been fine how it was.
I recently heard a story by Kirk Franklin:
“Two twin boys were raised by an alcoholic father. One grew up to be an alcoholic and when asked what happened he said, ‘I watched my father.’ The other grew up and never drank in his life. When he asked what happened he said, ‘I watched my father.’ Two boys, same dad, two different perspectives. Your perspective in life will determine your destination.”
I was a young girl when I realized that I had two choices when it came to my dad’s addiction: to forgive or to hold onto the hurt, as I saw him do. I saw what it looked like to hold on to anger and resentment, so I decided that no matter what my dad might say or do, I would show forgiveness.
This wasn’t easy because at the end of the day, you just want that person to stop, but I chose to focus on the dad I had when he wasn’t under the influence of alcohol. The dad who would shoot hoops with me in the backyard, who would fill the oil up in my car without asking if I needed it, who would keep letters I wrote to him in the pocket of his jeans years after I had given them to him.
I’ve learned that it is our decision to create the life we want to live and the mindset we want to have. I could have held on to the hurtful things my dad said or how he refused to get help. But I believe we have the power to overcome any circumstance by focusing on what lifts us up rather than what pulls us down.
“I am not what happened to me. I am what I choose to become.” ~Carl Jung
Today I am choosing to share my story with you as a way to honor my dad, who kept himself in a cage for his entire life. Was it out of fear of judgment or discomfort? I’m not sure. But I do know for the last twenty-nine years, I’ve been conditioned to do the same.
The stigma related to addiction causes us to feel shame. And I have felt shame for having a parent who had this disease. We keep our stories inside because we are afraid of how people will view us or our loved one. But in reality, it’s sharing that sets us free—free to make a difference in the life of someone else who is struggling.
Today is the day I open the door to my own cage, after nearly thirty years, to set myself free and break the cycle. I hope that my story will connect with someone who needs it—a person who, like me, has buried their past deep inside and pushes forward, not realizing the power and strength found in release.
I also hope to shed some light on what it’s like to struggle with addiction, based on my observations of my father, because I believe we’re better able to help the people we love when we let go of these common myths:
Addicts can stop if they want to.
Research shows that long-term substance use alters brain chemistry. These changes can cause intense cravings, impulse control issues, and the compulsion to continue to use. Due to these chemical changes, it is very difficult for a true addict to quit solely by willpower and determination.
Addiction only affects those who are weak, uneducated, or have low morals.
Addiction does not discriminate. It affects people of all ages, ethnicities, cultures, religions, communities, and socioeconomic statuses. Addiction is not a result of low morals, though often addicts behave in ways that violate their personal beliefs and values. Addiction is an equal opportunity disease.
Addiction is a disease, so there is nothing you can do about it.
If your doctor told you that you had cancer, would you not begin the necessary treatment and make the necessary lifestyle changes? Addiction isn’t much different if you believe in the research that suggests that addiction is a disease of the brain.
Just because you have the disease of addiction doesn’t mean you throw in the towel. Research shows that the brain damage resulting from substance use can sometimes be reversed through abstinence, therapy, and other forms of treatment.
Addicts who relapse are hopeless.
Addiction is a chronic disorder. Addicts are most prone to relapse in the first few months of being clean and sober. A relapse does not constitute failure.Processing the events surrounding a relapse can be healthy and aid in preventing future relapses.
Alcohol and drug use cause addiction.
There are several factors that contribute to a person becoming addicted. While alcohol and drugs may trigger a substance use problem for some, there are those who can drink alcohol and experiment with drug use and never become addicted. Factors that contribute include environment, emotional health, mental health, and genetic predisposition.
Addicts should be excused from negative behaviors.
Some may believe since addiction is a disease, addicts should not be held accountable for their actions. This is not true. An addict may not be responsible for their disease, but they are responsible for their choices and their recovery.
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It’s easy to judge and criticize what we don’t understand. You don’t have to walk a mile in an addict’s shoes to understand addiction and addictive behaviors. You just have to educate yourself and want to help so you can break the cycle of pain. And remember: whether you’re an addict or you love one, there’s nothing to be ashamed of, and you are not alone.
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10 Things You Need to Know to Maintain Strong Friendships
“A friend is someone with whom you dare to be yourself.” ~Frank Crane
Studies show that feeling connected to other people is a core human need. A sense of connection impacts not only on our mental health but also our physical well-being. It reduces our risk of disease and increases longevity.
While the research is clear, statistics also suggest that our level of social connectedness is declining. Social media might help us be more widely connected, but it doesn’t usually replace the connection we experience in offline friendships.
It seems that as adults we aren’t that good at friendships. People complain that it’s hard to make friends and maintain existing friendships after leaving school. It’s largely because we are busy with jobs and families, but I wonder whether there are other reasons outside of those external circumstances.
Growing up I had a very specific ideal of what “true friendship” looked like, which I had primarily picked up from books, TV, and movies: You have a best friend who you share everything with, hang out with 24/7 and grow old with—through thick and thin and of course happily ever after.
Only my reality looked different, which in itself made me feel that there was something wrong with me.
I also struggled because I felt like an outsider. I am mixed race (half Chinese, half German), was born and raised in Germany, and grew up very conscious of looking different, which is something I simply cannot hide. My parents told me to be proud of being different, but I wanted nothing more than to blend in because I felt that my difference isolated me.
I was a painfully shy kid. I always found it difficult to approach other kids and I began feeling invisible to the world.
I wanted to belong so badly and would have done anything to fit in, but because I had convinced myself that I was too different, I eventually stopped trying. Instead, I pretended I didn’t care about not being part of the group. I didn’t want anyone to see that I was upset. On the outside I seemed self-confident and strong, but always faked it and never made it (until much later in life). In short, I was doing the opposite of being myself.
The belief that nobody noticed me stuck with me into adulthood until I eventually realized that I hadn’t been invisible but rather I had been hiding. I had built a solid wall around me.
As an adult I can see that I probably wasn’t all that different from the others. How many of us grow up thinking we need to pretend to be someone we are not in order to belong and to be loved? How many of us still do this now as adults? And how ironic is it that by wearing a mask we achieve the opposite of what we intend and basically make it impossible to experience true connection?
Over the years, I’ve learned a lot about letting people in and creating meaningful connections. And I’ve come a long way from that insecure little girl who hid behind a wall and felt chronically isolated. If you’ve struggled to form and maintain friendships, perhaps my lessons may help.
1. Not all friendships are created equal.
Friendships are not a “one size fits all” kind of affair but rather come in different shapes and forms. A friend doesn’t have to cater to all your needs. It’s more natural to have friends for different areas of your life. That doesn’t make any one friend “less than,” but it feels much healthier than placing undue expectations on one person.
For example, a lot of my close friends live far away and we no longer share our everyday lives with each other, but I know I can still rely on them. Then there are people I’ve just met. While sometimes I instantly click with people, with others it takes longer to connect deeply. I also have loose acquaintances, and while we might not discuss our deepest thoughts, it’s still fun to connect through experiences and mutual interests.
Once we open our minds to what friendship can look like, we will gain access to connections that would have otherwise gone under our radar.
2. Connection is a two-way street.
The quality of connection is made up of what both of you are putting in. And the connection is likely to break apart if you expect what you are not prepared to give.
This doesn’t just apply to what you are willing to do for the other person. Are you fully showing up as yourself? Are you allowing others to really see you? And are you prepared to really see the other person, too, including the more challenging things that can feel heavy and painful?
3. People can only honor your needs and wishes if you communicate them.
We often expect others not only to read our minds but also to be on the same page as us on all matters. Chances are that if you haven’t clearly communicated what you expect from your friend, they might have no idea.
But also, remind yourself you have no “right” to others fulfilling your needs and wishes. Be prepared that others aren’t able or don’t want to give what you would like them to give you.
You know that saying “In times of crisis, you find out who your real friends are”? Well, I don’t entirely agree with that. It assumes that there is an unwritten rule about how friends need to behave, but there can be multiple reasons why they might not be able to be there for you to the extent you expect them to.
When my mum passed away, for example, my friends reacted in different ways. I totally understand that a lot of people find death highly uncomfortable and simply too terrifying to talk about, so, I accepted that I wasn’t able to talk about it with all of my friends.
Fortunately, some friends were able to be there for me. This experience taught me to formulate my needs and ask for help. On some days, the support I needed was to be able to talk and cry and on other days, I wanted to be left alone. The only way for my friends to know was for me to tell them.
4. You don’t need to agree on everything.
Maybe this is just me, but I feel an urge to agree with my friends on everything. Disagreements on even the smallest of issues cause me a certain level of discomfort. Of course, this is where the cycle of not being myself begins: by not saying what I really want in order not to upset the other person. That’s what compromise is for though, right?
I am therefore teaching myself to remember that it’s okay to disagree and to learn to accept that niggling feeling of discomfort that I still feel, even when I know this won’t affect the friendship overall.
That being said, sometimes disagreement is a sign that someone isn’t a person I want to be friends with—there are certain no-gos, certain things that just aren’t okay with me. Get clarity on your no-gos and stop sweating about the rest.
5. You don’t have to like each other all the time.
This for sure is another remnant of my Hollywood friendship ideal. Do you like yourself all the time? I don’t. I can be moody or thoughtless. I have characteristics I don’t like and that I am working on changing.
The same goes for every other person. And not only do we all have bad days and do stupid things sometimes; we might also have spleens or characteristics that are annoying to others. But they are likely outweighed by our loveliness . If so, maybe you can accept them in your friends and focus on all the rest instead of getting worked up over them or trying to change them.
6. Friendships need appreciation to flourish.
Don’t take friendships for granted, whether it’s the little or the big things: tell and show the other person that they are appreciated and loved, and express your gratitude. Especially when we have known somebody for a long time, we may expect them to just know how we feel. And chances are they do, but it’s always nice to hear it, too.
7. Not everyone will give as much as you give.
Just the way we set our own boundaries and decide what we are prepared to give, everyone else has the same right. And everyone’s boundaries are different.
While solid friendships naturally involve give and take, it shouldn’t be about tit for tat. Don’t keep count and don’t expect reciprocity for everything you are giving into the friendship. Give because you want to, not because you feel obligated or because you want something in exchange.
8. Grudges erode relationships.
I am pretty good at holding a grudge. I also know that it’s my coping mechanism for trying to protect myself from getting hurt and disappointed again.
Here’s a secret: It doesn’t work! Also, is it worth proving that you were “right”? Do you even know for sure that you were “right”? Put yourself in the other person’s shoes: Can you understand where they are coming from? Communicate when you are upset, clear the air, and move on. But remember:
9. Strong friendships require strong boundaries.
Boundaries are so important, and a lot of us are unfortunately not very good at a) identifying our boundaries b) ensuring they are honored, and c) walking away when they are not.
Personally, I have two main areas where I am still learning to communicate my boundaries: First, I’m part introvert and as much as I enjoy socializing, it can also feel depleting. Saying no to an invite or leaving a gathering when my limit has been reached still doesn’t come easy but it’s getting easier. It’s a matter of taking my own needs seriously as well as explaining them to my friends.
Secondly, people tend to find it easy to open up to me and often come to me for advice. As much as I want to help people and especially support my friends, I am still figuring out where my boundary is. I don’t want to take on a one-sided role of “counselor” in a friendship, since this inevitably leaves me feeling resentful. I am aware this is as much about me naturally putting myself in that role as it is about people’s expectations of me.
10. People change.
Are you the same person you were ten years ago? Even one year ago?
We all change, and especially when we’ve known somebody for a while, it’s easy to assume that we know everything about them.
I love this quote by George Bernard Shaw: “The only man I know who behaves sensibly is my tailor; he takes my measurements anew each time he sees me. The rest go on with their old measurements and expect me to fit them.”
Are you still listening? Are you curious? Are you taking an interest?
Sometimes we change so much that we drift apart, and that’s okay. The fact that we may grow so far apart that we no longer want to be friends doesn’t take away from all the joy and fun we had in the past.
Though I have long since bid farewell to my warped idealistic friendship model, I do make a conscious decision about who I want to spend my time with. And the criteria for that can change over time and are for me to decide.
My only advice is this: don’t be quick to discard relationships from a place of disappointment, hurt feelings, a bruised ego, or even a sense of revenge.
If somebody means something to you, talk to them. Figure out a new way to be friends going forward—one that works for both of you. But also accept that people are not there to adhere to your expectations or to the image you built up of them in your head.
And remember that connections in whatever form add immeasurably to the quality of our lives. Let’s open our hearts and minds to experience more of them!
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How to Journal Away Your Disappointment in Yourself
“Forgive yourself for not knowing better at the time. Forgive yourself for giving away your power. Forgive yourself for past behaviors. Forgive yourself for the survival patterns and traits you picked up while enduring trauma. Forgive yourself for being who you needed to be.” ~Audrey Kitching
“I can’t do this.”
“Why do I look so fat? I’m disgusting!”
“I haven’t done enough today. I am so useless.”
“I shouldn’t have said that. I shouldn’t have said that. I shouldn’t have said that.”
“Oh my god, why did this happen to me? What am I going to do now?”
Since I was a teenager, there has always been a voice inside my head telling me that things are not going to be okay because I am not enough.
At school, it told me I wasn’t popular or cool enough. At Arts university, that my work wasn’t original or deep enough. At my first job (which I disliked), that I wasn’t happy enough. In my current work (which I love), that I am never productive enough. And as the cherry on top throughout all these years, guess what—I’ve never been thin enough, talkative enough, or proactive enough.
This voice has become so present and loud that it has led to severe anxiety attacks.
One day, the feeling of self-loathing and despair was so strong that my usual journaling affirmations and gratitude practice were not enough. My soul, wounded by all the negative self-talk, needed something stronger. More than being fixed, it needed to be held in a tight, comforting hug.
So that’s what I did: I knew that journaling was still the way, I just had to find a way to hug myself with it.
Without thinking, I started writing to myself what a wise mother or a loving mentor would tell me in this situation.
“My dear, I know you are feeling anxious about not having completed all your tasks for today. I know it makes you doubt if you will ever be able to achieve your goals. I know it makes you fear that you will end up out of money, out of friends, out of love. But here’s the truth: it doesn’t matter that you had a bad day. I know you’re trying hard. I know you’re giving your best. You deserve a rest. You are amazing, and you’re going to make it.”
The effects were immediate: like with nothing else I had ever tried before, I felt a deep sense of comfort and relief.
I had just discovered my new soul-medicine.
How This Exercise Works
The reason why so many of us constantly push ourselves to be more and do more (and blame ourselves when we fail) is because we’re trying to get from others the approval we have never learned how to give ourselves.
This exercise teaches us to do just that: to give ourselves the appreciation we crave so much.
But there’s one more reason why it is so powerful: it’s because it’s written in the second person.
We are used to valuing more the compliments we hear from others than the ones we give ourselves. Therefore, it’s like having your adult self give your inner child the love and validation it has always wanted and needed, and that’s why it’s so healing.
On top of that, writing it on paper instead of just thinking it in your head keeps your mind focused, and your heart fully immersed in the process. And it’s also quite relaxing!
How To Do This Exercise
1. Whenever your negative self-talk or your anxiety kicks in, grab your journal and a pen.
2. Observe the thoughts and feelings that are happening right now. Don’t look away. Dive in.
3. Now, imagine that the person thinking those thoughts and feeling those feelings is your inner child. Try to feel compassion and empathy towards their pain.
4. Then, ask yourself: “Who is someone I look up to and what words would I like to hear from them in this situation?” This can be a higher power, a parent, a teacher, or whoever gives you comfort and guidance.
5. Now, try to put yourself in that person/entity’s shoes, and start writing those words to yourself—to your inner child. Here are some examples:
“I can see that you feel lost. You don’t know where to go next, and you doubt that you will ever know. But you will. I can assure you that you will. And when you know it, you can pursue it. You’ve made it so far, haven’t you? You have more in you than you think you do. You are kind to others, you are taking care of yourself the best way you can, you are doing everything at your reach. You always have. Just keep holding on, my love. This, too, shall pass.”
“It’s okay to feel angry. Your anger is valid. I love you no matter what. You know what? You can scream. Scream, my beautiful creature. You are stunning when you scream. You are full of power, raw energy, and the time will come to use it well. You are simply taking your time. It doesn’t matter that things didn’t go well this time; but they will, when they have to. You are doing great.”
As you write it down, let the words flow freely. Get fully immersed in the exercise. It might be helpful to imagine that you are hugging your inner child, and definitely focus on giving love, nurturing, caring.
At points, the words you’re writing might feel like huge clichés, but it doesn’t matter: all that matters is that you feel them—that’s how you know it’s working.
All You Need Is Love
It’s easy to get trapped in a negativity loop: you feel bad because you failed to meet your own expectations; then you feel anxious because you’re feeling bad, and so afraid to get trapped into a negativity spiral that you don’t even notice you’re already in it.
You can’t fight negativity with negativity. To break the loop, you need love.
You have been hard enough on yourself. Give yourself the words and love you have been longing to hear. Do it from a different perspective—I guarantee, this will rock your world.
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What to Do When Someone You Love is Struggling
“Sometimes the easiest way to solve a problem is to stop participating in the problem.” ~ Jonathan Mead
I don’t think I’m alone in having someone in my life whom I wish I could change. Someone I see struggling, who ignores or resents any lifesavers I send their way. I can clearly see how this person contributes to their own struggles, but they remain totally unaware of it. Sometimes, I want to shake some sense into this person; I think, “If only they would get their life together…”
For many of us, this person is a relative: a sister, brother, parent, or child. For others, it’s a close friend or coworker. A lot of times, it’s someone we want in our lives, even if it’s painful to keep them there. No matter who it is, it certainly isn’t easy to see someone you care about struggle.
Being in the presence of another’s pain used to provoke a deeply emotional response from me. And I know others feel the same. Sympathy and the desire to help someone in distress are naturally instinctual responses.
According to Darwin, humans and animals alike take comfort in one another’s company, protecting one another and defending each other against threats.
I get that. It makes total sense to me. I would have gone to the ends of the earth to see the people I care about happy. I did just about anything to try and change them; I read books and articles, reaching out for experts’ advice on how I could get them to see the light. In fact, I became one of those “experts” myself, and if I’m honest with myself, it’s because I was looking for a way to help the ones I love.
You see, I didn’t just have one person in my life who was struggling. At one point, it seemed like the majority of my family members were having a tough time. That led me to feel desperate and helpless, unable to live my own life while sensing their pain.
I always hung on to the hope that the people in my life would somehow change. That something I had overlooked would prove to be the magic bullet to help them live a good and fulfilling life.
I kept buying more books, reading more articles, and encouraging them to go to therapy, whether they wanted to or not. I reasoned, pleaded, led interventions. Dreamed of my ideal relationships with them, imagined them happy and full of life. Yearned for their smiles and enthusiasm for life. Believed that I couldn’t be happy until they were.
I made it my life mission to change others, becoming a therapist to help make changes in other people’s lives, fixing what was broken.
Well, as you can imagine, that never worked. When you have people in your life whom it hurts to love, the only logical solution seems like trying to help them change. But I had to learn the long and hard way, by running into dead ends and facing many disappointments, that you can’t make other people change. You can’t make other people happy. And you can’t rescue another person.
The only person you can change is yourself. So that’s what I did. I learned to manage my anxiety around other people’s discomfort. I decided that other people’s struggles and journeys were just that: their struggles and journeys. I stopped trying to be helpful and instead decided that I had a right to be happy.
It’s so important to understand that you can’t make somebody change. You can inspire them to change. You can educate them toward change. You can support them in their change. But you can’t force them to change just so that you can feel more comfortable around them.
Maybe that sounds like giving up. Maybe that even sounds a bit uncaring. However, I didn’t stop trying to be helpful to those struggling because I stopped loving them. I stopped because I saw it was not only not working, it was also contributing to their problems.
When I made efforts to take on other people’s problems I would do too much. I relieved them for a moment of their pain; however, I wasn’t providing them with the space they needed to solve their own issues. If I kept jumping in to help them, they would keep relying on me, instead of themselves, which wouldn’t allow them to better deal with life’s many difficulties on their own.
After years of doing the same things over and over again, with very little result, I decided it was time to change my approach. I was doing the very thing I wanted to see other people stop doing: I was contributing to my own problems. And it was time to stop doing that. It was time to be happy, not only for me, but for those that I cared about. It was time to be less helpful.
Our efforts to be helpful might be based on good intentions, but those good intentions don’t always yield good results.
By committing to learning what real help is, I came to understand that if I could manage my anxiety about other people’s problems and invest my time thinking about real solutions, I could change my responses and do something that was legitimately helpful.
As the first step in this process, I began to define my true beliefs, values, and ideas about helping others.
I’ve learned that in crisis situations, it’s best for me to calm myself down and respond as wisely as possible—when it’s needed and, of course, when it’s welcomed. The ability to manage my emotions in the highly anxious and emotional presence of another, especially a loved one in pain, is a lifelong mission of mine, because I truly believe it’s what will be helpful.
If we can all manage ourselves in the face of other people’s problems, we can truly be present and accountable.
On my journey to find out what it means to be truly helpful, I’ve found some tools I keep in my back pocket when the going gets tough.
First, stay in touch.
This isn’t easy to do in the presence of someone who’s very anxious and upset. Some people naturally create distance when anxiety is high. Thinking that you can’t help, or that the situation is too large, can lead you to run in the other direction.
I try to stay in contact with people I care about, even if their problems are too big for me to solve or aren’t solvable at all, like having an illness. Staying in touch helps me manage myself around the big stuff I can’t solve, and learn to accept people as they are.
Second, see the person past the problem.
When I was walking around with a hammer, I was basically seeing everyone in my life as a nail. There was more to them than the issues they were facing, but I wasn’t relating to them as whole people. Now I look for other people’s strengths, and their ability to solve their own issues. People are more resilient than we tend to think.
Third, respect others’ boundaries and ability to solve their own problems.
Many people are vulnerable when they face life’s stressors, and some people look to others to solve their problems for them. These days, I try to respect other people enough to let them come up with their own answers.
Determining how much to say or not say in each situation we face is not an exact science. I respect others’ boundaries by supporting their autonomy, being there for them but staying out of the way when my opinion isn’t needed. I make sure that any ideas for possible solutions come from them. I offer useful information without telling anyone what to do.
Fourth, know your own limitations.
It was humbling for me to find out how little control I have over the way others decide to live their lives. I changed my thought process from thinking I knew what’s best for my loved ones, to defining what I really could and couldn’t do; then my responses became clearer.
I was able to be more open and honest about the reality of my own life and how available I could be for others. I learned the hard way that, most of the time, my limits of time and energy were reached before other people’s needs were met.
Fifth, become more objective.
Boy, is it hard to think objectively when it comes to our important relationships. In intense emotional situations, it’s easy to get pulled into it all and feel pressured to do something instead of taking a step back and seeing the bigger picture.
With each situation I face, I work on getting more objective about it, reflecting on how I can remain calm and not feel the need to solve anything immediately.
Remaining objective is about seeing the difference between reality and what you feel. So, for example, instead of thinking you need to break your best friend’s unhealthy relationship pattern because it hurts you to see her in the same painful situation over and over again, you might step back and recognize she’s making progress, even if it’s slow, and we all need to learn our own lessons in our own time.
Sixth, work toward being open and honest.
We all have a need to feel seen, heard, and understood. However, way too many people aren’t open and honest in their relationships. When we can be open about our vulnerabilities and share our own experiences, it can be healing and calming. We can let others know that we can relate to them. When we’re trying to solve and fix everything, we aren’t connecting with others at a deeper level. We’re acting as if we’re above them.
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By making an effort to stop trying to be helpful, I saw many changes in my life. I no longer felt the pressure I once put on myself to be responsible for other people. I no longer made other people’s struggles about myself. And through all of that, I was able to foster better relationships with the people I care about—relationships based on reality, versus fantasies of who I wished they would be.
What I describe here is my own personal experience. I share it as a way to get you thinking, but there’s no one-size-fits-all method for determining what real help is.
The biggest lesson I learned in all of this is that I wasn’t helping anyone when I was swooping in trying to solve every problem without looking at the bigger picture. I understand now that when my “helping” is rooted in anxiety and an urge to smooth things over, it isn’t coming from a genuine place.
I now know it’s okay to not have all of the answers; it’s okay to take my time to think things over; it’s okay to throw my hands up and say, “This situation really stinks right now, and it’s going to be hard for a while.”
It’s okay for you to do all those things, too. Not every struggling person needs saving. Knowing that, and accepting it, might be the most helpful thing you can do.
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How to Practice Joy and Bravery
“We can complain because rose bushes have thorns, or rejoice because thorns have roses.” ~Alphonse Karr
“You should have told them. You should have told them you like it. They need to know people are happy there.”
“I know I should have. But I didn’t want to seem insensitive or make anyone feel bad.”
We sat at the dinner table, my boyfriend looking at me, me staring at my cleaned plate. We’d had variations of this conversation before. I tell him my coworkers aren’t happy at work, but I am happy at work, and he is forever confused as to why I’m scared to voice up that I love this job.
Part of the reason for my silence is that I’m the youngest in the office. The pay isn’t very high, but it’s everything my partner and I need right now. I love teaching and working with students. My commute is a twenty-minute walk down a picturesque Main Street.
Obviously, there are times of stress, imposter syndrome, and downright exhaustion. But it’s nothing compared to the fear I formerly felt about not having a job and living 2,000 miles across the country from my boyfriend. Again.
Thus, when my coworkers voice concerns over meager pay and little respect, I usually pretend not to hear them, hunkering in my cubicle. Putting earbuds in with no music. Looking preoccupied with something else.
Their concerns are valid. They have families and decades more work experience than I do. We’re all in different places, which creates the spectrum of job dissatisfaction.
To say that I loved this job, that it’s the best thing that ever happened to me, I feared would alienate me further from coworkers whom I admire and respect. I am the “new kid on the block” as one referred to me, but I desperately wanted to fit in and be one of the faculty members.
I’ve danced this line before, wondering when it’s okay to accept and show joy even when others are not feeling it. How can I be respectful and supportive when I’m happy in others’ sadness? Rather than helping them off the ground, isn’t that throwing sand on their faces and walking away? What about empathy?
My partner, a skilled outdoorsman who asserts the only emotions he feels are laughter and hunger, said it simply: “You can help them if you tell them the truth.”
I’ve thought about the people who inspire me the most. The people who seem to overcome every odd: being the first in the family to graduate high school and college, finishing a Ph.D. while working full-time and raising two kids, and leading the fight against cancer when it took her mom’s life.
Knowing that other people have faced hard circumstances and still find joy is inspiring. It’s realizing that you can turn around from the desert you’ve been staring at to instead view a mountainside of purple wildflowers. Other people’s strength gives us strength. This is what my boyfriend meant when he said, “you can help them.”
More than finding happiness, intentionally looking for joy and reminding ourselves of the good things is an act of bravery. Sharing joy is an act of bravery.
We don’t have to look hard to find culturally affirming messages that work should be hard. That we should hate our jobs. That getting older sucks. That something other than the present moment is “the good old times.” And of course, that life itself is just plain hard. It’s easy to feel jealous. It’s easy to ignore what would have made us happy years ago.
That’s easy. Creating joy for yourself is hard. So, let’s all do the hard thing.
I don’t have the balance between empathy and joy figured out. One of my fears is still being insensitive to others’ pain. But I have come to realize this from more conversations and reflection on my heroes: We help others more than we hurt them when we share our joy.
We open possibilities for people when they see happiness. Gratitude. Presence. Acceptance.
As one example, my grandpa passed away last April. Grandpa was the glue and epicenter of our family. His spontaneous jokes, wide smile, and contagious laugh will always be missed by everyone who knew him.
He and my grandma had been married for nearly seventy years. The grief is still raw for her; she talks to him every day. But she chooses to keep living fully, saying, “I wake up every day, and I think to myself: Am I going to be happy today? Am I going to be sad? And I choose to be happy.”
It’s not that my grandma doesn’t miss my grandpa. Her bravery to choose happiness doesn’t dilute anyone else’s pain. Instead, it lives out the legacy of a joyous man and gives strength to his children and grandchildren. It opens the possibility that we can be happy. Simply put, her joy helps us.
Below are three thoughts I’ve returned to when faced with the question of day-to-day living: Will I choose joy? Will I share it with others?
I choose to…
1. Make the best out of this situation.
In college, my roommate came up with ideas for dance parties while she was studying for cellular biology. The idea was simple: study hard for something you don’t really want to be studying at all, and take a five-minute break to dance like an idiot to a 2000s pop song. Occasionally, the folks below you might yell through the vents. But the point is, you make the best of something you don’t want to do.
I’m forever thankful that my roommate taught me this and then demanded I join in. She taught me that whatever’s going on, we can make it fun. We can make a boring trip to Walmart fun by blasting music, we can make working out fun by making all our friends go with us at 7am, and we can make studying fun by sipping a new flavor of herbal tea with each biology chapter.
We can all apply this to our lives. Choose music that makes you happy while driving to run errands. Look at clouds and trees and other things that bring you joy. Make up stories. Even just stopping to tell yourself, “I will make the best out of this. I will make this fun for me,” will consciously remind you to make life fun for yourself.
I choose to…
2. Acknowledge and accept all emotions—feelings of anger, hurt, boredom, jealousy, not-good-enoughness, sadness, and loneliness.
Though I choose to see the good in everything, that doesn’t mean avoiding pain. I want to feel it so I can help others through it. I don’t want anyone to feel alone, and that starts with acknowledging that each of us has feelings we don’t want to feel. When we feel them, we get a little braver. It’s easier to ignore them. It’s a whole lot harder to acknowledge they’re there, and to accept them.
One simple thought to say to yourself, “I will be real with myself. I will be brave enough to feel this, so at the very least I can help someone else walk through this.”
I choose to…
3. Focus on everything that’s going right rather than what’s going wrong.
It’s easy to find problems with everything. One professor told me, “Everyone can find problems. You can be the one guy to find solutions.” And it’s true. Would you rather be a problem-finder or a solution-maker?
My default setting seems to be anxiety and problem-finding. I can find anything to be stressed about, anytime of the day, anywhere.
It takes more work for me to intentionally think about what’s going well. So, one strategy I like to use is the negative game (this especially works for me because I’m a great worrier).
What would it be like if my boyfriend left? I’m so glad to have a partner here day-in-and-day-out who loves me (and tells me that every day), who cooks well, and sincerely loves cats.
What would it be like if I didn’t have a job? I’m so glad I have the opportunity to work with students each day and to help them reach their goals.
What would it be like if my parents weren’t here? I’m so glad to have parents I can call every day and who truly care about me, who would fly across the country to see me, who listen attentively to every student-story I share.
Who wouldn’t relax a bit after playing this mind game? Choose to think about what you can do; what you do have. Even the basics are grounding: having nutritious food to eat, clean water to drink, a safe home to live in.
I did end up telling my coworkers that I enjoy this job after one of them shared they’re planning to leave after the next school year. I offered up a tentative, “I like this job. It works great for me right now.” No one threw rocks or kicked me out. They agreed it was great for someone just starting their career.
Don’t be afraid to share your joy, even if other people don’t share it. Who knows, you never know how you can help someone. Maybe my brief words helped my coworker find something positive in our workplace.
I leave you with one quote:
“Never dull your shine for someone else.”
Help other people see joy, and be brave enough to practice it.
