Tag: wisdom

  • Trust Your Intuition: If It Feels Like a No, It’s a No

    Trust Your Intuition: If It Feels Like a No, It’s a No

    “You will never follow your own inner voice until you clear up the doubts in your mind.” ~Roy T. Bennett

    One evening my husband and I decided that we, along with our daughter, would go together to a neighboring town about thirty minutes away the following morning. He had an errand to run, and I was going to take our daughter to a nearby playground.

    The morning arrived, and as I thought about it, I had a wave of feeling/thought that said, “I don’t really want to go,” or maybe it was more like, “I’d rather just stay around here because that would be more fun.” All I can say is that there was an inner nudge that told me not going would lead to a happier outcome.

    Instead of going with my gut, though, I asked my daughter if she wanted to go to the playground, and when she said yes, I let that change my mind. (She’s four! Of course she wants to go to the playground!)

    We piled into the car and headed to the highway. Before you get any ideas about this being a horror story about a car accident or other life-altering incident, let me assure you that nothing terrible happened. Just something that showed me I need to keep up my practice of listening to that inner voice we all have.

    We dropped my husband off and went to the playground. It was fine, I guess, but sort of frustrating: My daughter played for maybe five minutes before asking to go to the bathroom. After that, she said she was ready to leave the playground and have a snack in the car. It had been all of fifteen minutes.

    We got back in the car and drove to the spot where my husband was. After fifteen or twenty minutes of us waiting for him in the car, he came out, kind of a in a grumpy mood, and we debated who would drive back home.

    I have a story about not wanting to drive when my husband is in the car. I tell myself he makes me self-conscious and I’d rather just have him drive. I was already in the driver’s seat, though, and he didn’t seem to care either way, so I stayed where I was.

    As soon as I started backing out of the parking lot he told me to watch out. He was worried about me hitting someone. I got annoyed, but kept going.

    When we got to the road, I had to make a tricky left turn. It’s a spot where people are coming from all directions, and there happened to be a police officer waiting to pull out across the way from us.

    I was about to go, but a car came quickly around the bend. I felt like I was out too far and started to back up a little, then my husband said, “What are you doing!?” That did not go over well with me.

    I got a little hysterical, feeling trapped. I couldn’t make the turn, I couldn’t back up, and my husband refused to switch places with me because he thought the police officer across the way would be suspicious.

    I ended up yelling and freaking out, even dropping an f-bomb, which is so not the way I want to act, ever, but especially not in front of my kid.

    I finally made the turn, then got off the next exit and asked my husband to drive. Sitting in the passenger seat it hit me: My inner voice said I’d probably have more fun staying close to home, and I realized it was almost certainly right.

    The trip to the playground was a bust, my daughter and I had to spend a bunch of time in the car (half an hour both ways plus the time waiting for my husband) to do basically nothing, and my husband and I ended up having a bit of a blowout.

    I couldn’t have predicted how the day would go, but I knew in the morning I felt like taking it easy, and instead, I put myself in situations that had the potential to be stressful.

    It’s not that anything awful or life-altering happened; it was just a clear example of how going against what felt right, what felt like the most fun, ended up being not the best choice for me. And I was particularly annoyed because I’ve been dedicating time and attention lately to listening to my intuition.

    Overall, though, I have been getting better at tuning in and heeding the advice of my inner guidance. Here’s what I’ve done over the years to get better at it.

    I regularly check in with my body.

    My body is so much smarter than I am. She knows when she’s had enough to eat and she knows when a situation isn’t the right one for me. Experiences that don’t align with my innermost desires result in me having a tight feeling in my chest or a churning feeling in my stomach, and if things go on long enough, I’ve been known to manifest physical symptoms that send me to the doctor.

    I once ignored my intuition about taking a job. I only lasted there a year, and I was sick constantly. It’s rare for me to get sick at all, so this was just a confirmation of what I’d worried about from the beginning. The body knows, even when the mind isn’t willing to acknowledge it yet.

    I started looking at what made me feel light and happy.

    Like the body, emotions are an incredible guide for showing us where to turn next. If something makes you feel alive and excited, then go in that direction! If something makes you feel low-energy and sad, it’s time to change course.

    I look for the next right step instead of trying to figure out a thirty-year plan.

    Our minds want to have all of the answers right now, period. If you feel excited about a new and completely different career path but your mind can’t figure out how it can earn you a living, you may shut it down completely, ignoring your intuition and probably squelching your happiness.

    These days, I just try to figure out the next right step, the one for this moment, rather than trying to see how it will play out when I’m eighty. Sometimes the next right step is for me to go to sleep instead of thinking about it anymore!

    If I’m frazzled and worrying about a million things that are work or business related, I slow myself down and ask what has to be done right now. The answer is usually something simple, like answer this email or take a break for lunch and come back when I feel refreshed. If you take it moment by moment, it truly slows things down and simplifies them.

    I do the thing that makes me feel good whenever possible.

    It might seem counterintuitive, but it’s often much easier to get done what you need to when you follow the path of what feels best. For instance, one evening I needed to write a blog post, but I just wasn’t feeling it.

    Instead of forcing myself to do it, I made some art and watched some TV. After maybe an hour I felt jazzed up and good, and it was incredibly easy (and fast!) to write the blog post.

    I ask questions with the intention of getting an answer.

    Instead of walking around all day thinking “I don’t know what to do, I don’t know what to do,” I now make a point of asking, either in writing or in my head, “What’s the best thing for me?” It takes practice, but you’ll get answers, even if they’re subtle.

    I can hear you wondering, “What am I supposed to do when I have to do something, but my intuition says it’s a no-go?”

    I’m the mom of a young kiddo, and even though I don’t always feel like getting up with her at the crack of dawn, or peeling the skin off her apple, or watching that episode of a cheesy cartoon with her one more time, I usually still do it.

    Time with her at this age (and in general) is fleeting, and to combat the feeling of obligation I remind myself that I chose this life. I also check in to see what I can do in any given moment to make sure I’m getting some feel-good time for myself. I think it’s important for her to see me enjoying my life and making choices that support my well-being.

    I know there are lots and lots of obligations we feel tied to, but I believe if your intuition is telling you over and over again that this is not right for you, you must start to listen and let it go.

    Perhaps you feel you can’t give up this obligation right this second, but how can you move away from it? How can you take on more of what feels joyful and right for you and less of what feels burdensome and heavy? Just do it a little at a time, if that’s what feels best.

    I’m really passionate about this subject, and it’s because I have seen how much my life has improved by going with my gut. I’ve also seen what happens when I don’t, even if it’s minor like the incident I described.

    When I see and hear other people struggling with decisions or doing something big (like getting married!) even when it doesn’t feel quite right, I want to reach out and hug them and tell them that going with their intuition will always pay off in the end, even if it doesn’t seem to make sense in the moment.

    You already know the answer; you just have to listen.

  • Freeing Your Truest Self When You’re Anxious to Please

    Freeing Your Truest Self When You’re Anxious to Please

    “Stress, depression, and anxiety are caused when we are living to please others.” ~Paulo Coehlo

    I came from a broken and very poor family. My father left the house during my teenage years, and it was just my mother, little brother, and I remaining.

    Like most single parents going through the hardships of singlehandedly caring for two children, my mother was often anxious about my well-being. And she overcompensated for her anxiety by being overbearing.

    I unfortunately inherited this anxiety.

    For the longest time, it was a daily battle for me.

    You know the feeling.

    Your muscles tense up, you feel an overwhelming sense of fear, and your heart begins to race.

    It’s the uncomfortable worries that surface as you play out worst-case scenarios in your head.

    Though we can feel anxiety about debt, work pressures, or any number of challenges, for me, it was mostly triggered by the fear of not being good enough and disappointing other people.

    My struggle with anxiety was one of the most crippling experiences, and as a result, I never grew.

    So, is it really possible to overcome anxiety?

    I realized the answer is yes, but first I needed to understand where my anxiety was coming from.

    Anxiety is Your Brain Trying to Protect You

    There’s a small, almond-sized part of your brain known as the amygdala whose main job is to look out for your survival. For example, if a mountain lion were chasing you, your amygdala would trigger fear so that it would activate your body to run for your life or grab a weapon to fight.

    Your amygdala doesn’t only watch out for your physical survival. You feel the same kind of fear when you are nervous about giving a public speech or going on a first date.

    When you experience anxiety in these situations, it’s your brain’s way of trying to help you survive emotionally.

    Unfortunately, your amygdala is not the greatest at accurately gauging how dangerous a situation might be. It often blows things way out of proportion.

    I remember what it felt like when I was a kid and wouldn’t see my mother the whole day because she was always working late. I’d wait for her to talk about something I was excited about only to have her turn the conversation toward things about myself that I should be improving.

    Even though this was her way of trying to make sure I survive in the world, because we were barely getting by, the constant requests to do things better made me feel like I wasn’t good enough.

    It felt like no matter what I did, I could never fully please her. If I accomplished something she requested of me, I’d get a quick “thank you,” then she’d move on to talk about what else I should do.

    I found it most hurtful when she would talk about how great someone else was. She’d update me about some amazing thing that one of her client’s children had accomplished and suggest that I should try to follow in that person’s footsteps.

    All that did was make me think that something was wrong with me.

    I ended up with low self-esteem, and because I thought I was worthless, nothing was scarier than the thought of making mistakes and failing, because that would confirm that I was not good enough.

    This was why I never took too many risks and searched only for options that seemed to have a guarantee for success.

    My anxiety made me develop a behavior of perfectionism, and it was ruining my life. The more I let it make my decisions for me, or lack of decisions for that matter, the further I felt from who I wanted to become.

    Ironically, becoming a perfectionist was my brain’s solution to helping me feel good enough.

    “Perfectionism is the belief that if we live perfect, look perfect, and act perfect, we can minimize or avoid the pain of blame, judgement, and shame. It’s a shield.” ~Brené Brown

    This toxic behavior put me in an endless cycle of working hard to achieve all sorts of cool things so that one day, I might feel good about myself. In reality, every accomplishment felt anti-climactic. I was always dissatisfied and constantly looking for the next big accomplishment to chase.

    No matter how much I succeeded, it was never enough for me, just like I never felt like I was enough for other people.

    It wasn’t until I met someone who could see the real me that I finally figured out how to overcome my anxiety.

    The Power of a Safe Space

    When I was a teenager, a man named Anthony saved my life. If it weren’t for him, I would’ve gone down a much more self-destructive path.

    He never questioned the mistakes I’d made unless I wanted to talk about them. And when I didn’t want to talk about them, he’d openly share his own horrible mistakes.

    I never once felt judged by him, nor did I feel like he had a set of expectations for me.

    Anthony helped me feel safe.

    I realized for the first time that for most of my life, I didn’t feel safe to be who I was.

    I was almost always in survival mode, shielding myself emotionally. All my behavior was in reaction to the anxiety of not feeling good enough for other people.

    Being in a safe space finally helped me put my guard down and look at myself objectively. It was in these moments that I became deeply aware that being a perfectionist wasn’t the answer to my anxiety, and that I was heading down a path toward depression.

    I didn’t come to this realization sooner because the pre-frontal cortex, the thinking part of the brain, is turned off when the brain’s in survival mode. This pre-frontal cortex is what’s capable of rational behavior, critical thinking, and emotional regulation.

    The only way to calm down the survival mode of your brain is to place yourself in environments where you feel safe.

    The thinking part of your brain will help you understand where your anxiety comes from and figure out an effective way to handle it.

    It was in this safe space that I finally realized that I had the power and responsibility to stay true to myself.

    How I Overcame My Anxiety

    Deep down, I hated myself for constantly giving in to other people’s expectations of me and for letting their standards determine my self-worth.

    But the reality is that I let this happen.

    And here’s the even harsher truth.

    I let it happen because it’s much easier to live a life that someone else wants you to live.

    The scariest part is that once you take ownership of the one life you have, you have no one to blame if things go wrong. At least following someone else’s path gave me the right to blame him or her.

    My brain would rather me let others’ standards dictate my life and sacrifice my mental health than do anything that might make me experience the emotional pain of looking like a failure and falling short of someone’s standards.

    Now that I knew all my anxiety was coming from my brain being in survival mode, I needed to figure out a way to regularly calm it down.

    This was when I discovered meditation. 

    I learned that brain scans in studies have revealed that meditation calms the amygdala and activates the thinking part of your brain.

    I started using the free version of an app called Headspace, and I learned how effective it can be to simply be present and enter a state of awareness.

    For most of my life, I’d been tossed left and right by my circumstances and was a slave to my emotional reactions. Meditation helped me become more aware of why I was behaving the way I did, especially in these reactive moments.

    I finally saw that almost all my anxiety led to irrational thoughts and behaviors.

    For example, I remember when I decided to start my business, it was hard to build my audience. Nobody was reading any of my articles, and I wasn’t getting any traffic on my website.

    I’ve given up on other ventures plenty of times before, and I was ready to give up on this one too. I took it personally and started telling myself the familiar narrative that I didn’t have what it takes. I just wasn’t good enough. Then I recognized that I was reacting to my anxiety as I’d always done, and I could choose a different way.

    I was able to be aware and think to myself, “I’m feeling anxious right now because this moment feels similar to a couple of painful experiences I had in the past.”

    The moment I became aware of this I gave myself the power to make a choice rather than to habitually react.

    So I told myself, “The old you would put yourself down and give up, but the new you can try to assess the situation objectively and see what is really setting you back.”

    After doing this, I was finally able to grasp that I didn’t have business challenges because of my character, but most likely because of the strategies and tactics I was using to market myself. Once I used different strategies, I got different results.

    Your Best Life Starting Now

    In order to live our best life, we have to calm our anxiety about disappointing other people and not being good enough and find the courage to be true to ourselves.

    It is one of the hardest decisions you will ever make, but it will also be one of the best.

    The first step to changing my life for the better was having awareness. The next key step was focus.

    What you focus on is usually what you will gravitate toward.

    The key to living your best life is not to run away from who you were, but to run toward who you want to become.

    As I meditated, my anxiety calmed down and I started to have such a clear idea of the person I wanted to be.

    I no longer wanted to be the anxious person who thought he was worthless. I wanted to become a great husband, father, and leader. Rather than worrying about not being able to meet these expectations, I started to engage the thinking part of my brain to figure out what needed to be done.

    I didn’t have all the answers, but I knew I could only make this life I wanted a reality if I started making changes and learned as I went.

    I wanted to learn what it took to become a better husband, so I started going to marriage counseling.

    I wanted to become a better parent, so I researched how children are wired and how to best communicate with them.

    I wanted to be a better leader, so I invested in credible leadership and coaching courses.

    And I did these things not because I wanted to prove something to myself, but more because it mattered to me deeply and I knew it was a part of who I truly was.

    I’ve spent too much time running away from opportunities for growth because I was afraid I might not be good enough. The problem, though, was that I was running away without knowing where I wanted to go. I ended up in destinations where I felt more lost than ever, and my anxiety kept catching up to me in the end.

    Now, whenever I experience anxiety, I tell myself, “This is anxiety.” I thank my brain for looking out for me and then I ask myself, “What do I need to focus on in this moment, and how can I get it?”

    Then, surprisingly, the anxiety calms down and the thinking part of my brain activates to try and figure out the best way to go about things.

    This is what changed everything for me.

    And I know it can for you too.

    While people might have expectations for you, the world desperately needs the power that comes from you living your most authentic life.

    If you are battling anxiety about not being good enough or pleasing other people, take a moment to slow down and acknowledge what you are experiencing. Then, identify what you need to feel safe so you can turn on the thinking part of your brain and start uncovering the answers you most need. That might mean meditating, talking to a close friend, or even just getting out in nature for a walk.

    It’s time to take a deep breath, be compassionate with yourself, and decide who it is you want to be.

    Stay aware and focused and you’ll be there sooner than you think.

  • When You Keep Giving Up on New Habits That Are Good for You

    When You Keep Giving Up on New Habits That Are Good for You

    “If you have a bad day, remember that tomorrow is a wonderful gift and a new chance to try again.” ~Bryant McGill

    As I crawled back into bed after hitting the snooze button, my eyes heavy with sleep, I told myself, “You gave up once more” and rolled over back to sleep, annoyed with myself.

    Two months earlier, inspired by the book The Miracle Morning, by Hal Erold, I had taken the habit of getting up early (around 5am) every day to meditate for fifteen minutes, write for thirty minutes, and exercise for thirty minutes.

    When I started the new habit, it felt amazing. I was so proud of myself—I was doing it! On top of the satisfaction of achieving goals that I had set for myself, I really felt the benefit of being productive before everyone wakes up. It had a positive knock on effect on the rest of my life; I was upbeat, motivated, and I was going to work with a spring in my step.

    Then, about two months in, normal life happened: I had been to bed later the previous nights—drinks with colleagues, watching a movie—and tiredness, coupled with maybe the weariness of the new habits, quickly took over. That morning, I did not jump out of bed and I was longing to roll over instead of starting my “miracle morning.”

    If you are a human being like me, I am sure you are very familiar with taking up new habits, only to give them up two or three weeks or months later. The most notorious one is New Year’s resolutions. Who hasn’t promised themselves they’d go to the gym three times a week, they’d stop eating junk food, or they’d stop drinking alcohol altogether?

    We take up new habits, only to let them die away after few weeks.

    Have you noticed how different the feeling is between when you start and when you give up?

    When we start on January 1st, we cannot imagine there will be one more day in our life when we will not jump out of bed to go to the gym. We wonder, “How could I ever not have the motivation? It’s so exciting! And how did I not do it before?”

    Yet somehow, it happens and procrastination becomes the new habit. With procrastination comes guilt, and low self-esteem starts creeping in.

    There’s indeed a very negative effect on your life if there’s constantly a little voice in your head reminding you that you have failed this or that. My aim here is to help you feel good about yourself, even with the fallibility of being human and not being able to sustain new habits.

    You don’t have to beat yourself up for giving up new healthy habits. You’re not the only one out there; we’re all doing it (or not doing it).

    I used to be very annoyed with myself when I stopped a new routine, as it gave the feeling that my goal had not been achieved. However, unless you are in a life-threatening situation and seriously need to change your lifestyle, I think that we need to take a different perspective on things.

    Yes it could be better, but you cannot deny that you have, for whatever small amount of time it happened, spent your life doing something else that was better for yourself.

    Have you given up smoking, only to start again three months later? Think of it this way: for three months, your body was healthier and you’ve probably earned back few minutes of your life. Would it not be better stopping smoking for three months every year rather than not at all? If I told you now that your target is to stop smoking for three months, every year, would that not make it easier to handle?

    There are few ways that we can make these new habits easier to handle. I think we should focus more on the fact that even if we haven’t sustained it, we’ve done something good for ourselves. Here are three main elements you should consider:

    1. Set a limit in time for your new habit.

    If you suspect you will sooner or later give up on it anyway, why not set the end date when you start? This may sound simple, but the big difference is that you are in control of when you stop. This will also make it easier to digest, and you might be more likely to sustain the habit longer than if you hadn’t set yourself an end date.

    I’ve tried the experiment myself. On June 7th, I started a new healthy habit: wake up early, meditate, write, read news. I was of course excited about this new habit, but I thought I’d end up giving up anyway, as I had with all other healthy habits outside of my comfort zone.

    Then I had this idea: What if I tell myself that it’s labeled “summer healthy habits” and that I only have to sustain it until August 7th? Would that not make it easier? You can reduce it to one week if you tend to give up after few days.

    2. Reflect on what you have learned or gained, even if the habit has stopped.

    Stopping doesn’t mean you haven’t done anything productive. For three months, you did something different, and surely your brain or body benefited from it.

    You should also not only consider the direct effects of this new habit, but the fact that you have learned something different and probably raised your self-awareness. Let’s say you decided to stop drinking alcohol altogether. Even if the new habit only lasts a month, you will have learned something about yourself.

    I recently decided to test not drinking any alcohol at all on Friday nights with the colleagues at the pub. Surprisingly, I was as upbeat and enthusiastic as the night wore on, same as when I was drinking on a typical Friday night.

    This was a revelation to me! When I thought that my enthusiasm was related to my alcohol intake, it actually wasn’t; I was “drunk with social interaction.” This is exactly my point: I only did this two Fridays in a row, but I learned something about myself that I can take away for the future.

    3. Step back and reconsider.

    Working at intervals is a healthy process in a lot of disciplines. As a runner, it’s scientifically proven that I’ll be better off alternating fast and slow intervals during a run, and alternating workouts and rest over the course of a training plan, rather than always running at the same pace or running without ever recovering.

    It’s the same for the learning process: When you study for your final exam, it’s well known that taking breaks or moving on to another activity for a while is beneficial for the brain.

    We could even take a broader perspective: Living a healthy life is all about balance. Why not alternate the healthy new habits? Some examples: Stop eating bread for one month, then go back to your usual levels of consumption. Go without alcohol on Friday nights for one month, then stop. Life is also about experimenting different things.

    As I am writing this article today, I’m at the start of a new habit streak. I’ve decided that I will take thirty minutes every day before breakfast to write on my blog. Disruptions in my routine (for example, holidays) are often the breaking point of my new habits, so I’ve decided that I will only keep this new habit for a couple months, until my next planned trip.

    Thinking about stopping this habit that I enjoy so much (mind you, it’s day two!) makes me sad, but after all if I want to keep it going, I can. But at least if I do stop on my planned end date, I won’t feel guilty and unaccomplished, because that was part of the plan. I will feel that I have achieved my goal, even if the habit only lasted a month. Then hopefully I can be excited to take it up again when I come back home.

    It’s great that you are trying to change your life for the better, but it should not have the consequence of making you feel bad about yourself for not sustaining it. If it does, it will create stress and be counterproductive.

    Take small steps toward a healthier lifestyle, enjoy the process, and take time to reflect on what you have learned about yourself. That’s the best way for your body and your mind to benefit from the change.

  • Why Social Media and My Addictive Personality Don’t Mesh

    Why Social Media and My Addictive Personality Don’t Mesh

    Twitter didn’t give me the flu or bronchitis, but it made me sick. Unhealthy. Ill-feeling. And it could have been any social media platform that did it, I just happened to have chosen Twitter.

    For years I avoided creating any sort of social media account. I complained to companies the old-fashioned way: calling or emailing customer service. I didn’t need to know what people I wasn’t in touch with in real life were doing.

    As someone who was married and not dating, there simply wasn’t the requirement to be on any kind of social media. With two kids, I spent my (little) free time watching TV or texting with a few friends. I would proudly state, “I don’t even have Facebook” when people discussed it.

    Then in January 2018, I decided to open a Twitter account, mostly to rant about things, as I had done a few years prior on a blog. Not big-issue political rants or anything, more “Why isn’t the first car on an advanced green turning?? YOU HAVE A RESPONSIBILITY, MAN” type stuff.

    I had conveniently blocked from memory the reason I had stopped blogging about all my anger-inducing experiences: I had felt like it was poisoning me. To always be posting something negative, it builds over time. As much as I liked expressing my anger, I didn’t like the feeling it created.

    Fast forward to the beginning of 2018 and I have a Twitter account. All fine and dandy for a bit: I build a little network of like-minded parent Twitter accounts, we follow the same accounts, and it’s fun to see people living the same type of kid-related dramz as I was.

    Then I realize that with Twitter, I have access to breaking news way faster than say, my husband (a complete non-social media user). So that’s fun. Then I realize I have easy access to celebrities—wow! Now I can communicate directly with them! And businesses! To celebrate or chastise them! Fun! Then I’m excited when I gain followers. Cool! But some are random accounts who I don’t ever see post anything, or weird corporations. Okay… still fun?

    Then I interact a few times with some celebrities. That goes to my head quickly—now I assume every tweet I send will result in some retweet or like by them. But no, it doesn’t. “Well, that’s crappy,” I think on more than one occasion, when I obsessively check my account to see if they liked what I wrote.

    I see parenting-related tweets by other users who gain hundreds or thousands of likes for some inane comment, and I think “But that’s not even funny or very observant.” I develop a never-ending circle of thought in my head, consumed by potential tweets.

    I start to feel what many people before me have felt: the highs and lows of social media. When it’s good, it’s good—your self-esteem is high, you’re feeling well liked, and well received. And when it’s low, it sucks.

    “Why didn’t anyone agree with what I said?” I would question. “How come my tweets don’t garner that much attention?” It started to become too much. I was turning into someone I had never thought I would be: feeling validated by the number of likes I got.

    Soon, it became obsessive. I was checking when I woke up (my phone having never been beside me at night), considering checking in the middle of the night when I woke up, checking while driving (something I had shamed people for doing previously), being logged in all day while at work. It was all day every day. I had become consumed.

    And it wasn’t lucrative; I had 200-ish followers and maybe 20 I actually interacted with. It had quickly turned from something “neat” into something destructive. Everything I was living I was thinking could be a potential tweet. Which meant in turn, while I was physically there, I wasn’t really present in my actual life.

    Along with parenting woes, I used Twitter to talk about my sobriety. I found it to be an awesome support network for the ups and downs and also to help others.

    Over the past year of sobriety, I, like many others in the same situation, have connected much more with myself, learning who I am more in the past year than ever in my whole life. I recognize when I am feeling sad, toxic, anger, jealous. I feel everything now. And so when I started to feel weird with Twitter, I didn’t ignore it. I looked at what was happening.

    And I realized it: as I now know, I have an addictive personality. I had become addicted and consumed by Twitter. It was now controlling my day. From wake up, to work, to driving, to watching TV, I was one tap away from seeing “what’s happening.” With strangers. And not actually paying attention to what I was living.

    Instead of living what was happening, I was typing it, sharing it, obsessing over who saw it and interacted with me. Instead of alcohol, I was now consumed by Twitter.

    So last week, I promised myself I would stop tweeting, stop checking it, and back away. Unfortunately you can’t hide your account. Either you have it and you just don’t use it, or you deactivate.

    This weekend I looked at it here and there to see if I had any likes or DMs. To get a sense of what I was missing. I had a few likes from some tweets posted last week, oddly enough a number of new followers (even after doing nothing for days, which is so bizarre)—nothing earth shattering. I didn’t scroll through at all, and I didn’t engage with anyone.

    And I realized: Nothing in my life actually changes if I am “connected.” In fact, I realized that being “connected” actually made me feel more isolated than ever. I was relying on something very independent to feel part of something. When in reality, it was very secluded.

    I found it serves as a distraction and delivers information that just makes me angry or depressed. And there’s already enough of that in life. I am quite happy to go back to using reality TV to unwind and let my sister being my sounding board for my road rage.

    I will give it another day or so and I will deactivate it completely. And luckily, goodbyes are not necessary. A nice clean break. I will miss some elements of it, but I know myself enough to know I cannot keep it. Like trying to moderate alcohol, it’s too much of a slippery slope.

  • How Failure Holds the Key to a Meaningful, Successful Life

    How Failure Holds the Key to a Meaningful, Successful Life

    “Perfectionism doesn’t believe in practice shots.” ~Julia Cameron

    Within each of us lurks a perfectionist. And perfectionists set themselves up for a lot of pain in life.

    How so? I’ll come to that.

    First let me describe how our first child took her first step. She was less than ten months old. A very bright girl, who wanted nothing less than my approval at all times.

    On one occasion, a few months previous to that, she was crawling on the carpet and picked up some small thing. As she started to put it in her mouth, I called out loudly “No!”

    That was the first time she experienced any negative or critical words from me. Otherwise, I had been steadily adoring. What was her response?

    She fell flat on the floor and remained perfectly still. It was as if she had been laid flat by a sledgehammer blow.

    That’s how much she had come to rely on my approval.

    So, what happened when one day she could finally stand up? I decided, as a very proud parent, to teach her how to walk right away.

    Now, walking is easy for someone who’s already confident with standing up. It’s more challenging for someone who’s just learned how to stay on their feet unsupported. I was too young and foolish and overeager to think through all that.

    In my excitement, I stood by her and urged, “You can walk. Just do this. Look at me. Just lift a foot like this and put it forward.”

    In retrospect, I was too hasty and cruel. I’ve grown to recognize that everything happens in its own good time.

    Anyhow, I was young and foolish then. So, allow me to tell you the rest of the story.

    Our baby looked very doubtful. I demonstrated a step once again. She remained hesitant.

    After some more cajoling from me, she decided to do something.

    She took the oddest first step you can imagine.

    Did she lift one foot as I kept urging? No.

    She simply hopped forward, keeping both feet on the ground. Like a baby kangaroo. That was only minutes after she had first stood up without support.

    Of course, not long after that she was walking very confidently, and then running, and has gone on to do amazing things with her life.

    Imagine if we were all so afraid of failure that we always kept both feet on the ground for safety. How much would that interfere with a full and meaningful life? How would that affect our ability to do whatever we considered to be good and important?

    We can see this quite clearly in babies. In order to be able to lift their head, they need to accept that they’ll sometimes flop.

    In order to learn how to crawl, they need to accept that they’ll sometimes fall flat on their face.

    In order to learn how to stand, they need to accept that they’ll sometimes fall in a heap.

    In order to learn how to walk, they need to accept that they’ll sometimes tumble.

    In order to learn how to cycle, they need to accept that they’ll sometimes fall off and get bruised.

    In order to learn how to swim, they need to accept that they’ll sometimes need rescuing.

    In order to learn how to read and write, they need to accept that they’ll get many things hilariously wrong.

    In order to learn to love wholeheartedly, they need to accept that some people will betray their trust.

    Whenever they want to do something that’s good and important in their lives, they need to accept the possibility of failure.

    It’s easy to acknowledge such facts, but it’s more difficult to live by them.

    Why is it that we often struggle with failure? Why do we so often consider it as a full stop rather than a necessary comma in our life story? Why does it seem more like a trap than a springboard?

    It may have something to do with our need for approval.

    Our daughter didn’t want to hear the word “No!” from her beloved parent. It crushed her the first time she encountered it from me.

    Only after I picked her up and comforted her did she loosen up and smile again. She was learning that she could get things wrong and still remain completely lovable to me.

    People can be good to us. They can build us up. They can teach us that it’s okay to fall and fail, because we’ll still be completely lovable.

    However, we’re all human beings. We don’t always do what we set out to do. We don’t stick to doing what we know to be good and important.

    As a result, we often wound others and are too often wounded by them.

    That tends to suck us into the rat race. Not content with being intrinsically and unshakably lovable, we tend to look for reassurance. And too often we seek it by trying to be one up on others.

    We sometimes pounce on the mistakes or flaws of others because it allows us to feel superior despite our own mistakes or shortcomings. We sometimes become overly reliant on praise because we’re terrified that criticism confirms how worthless we are under the surface. 

    All this tends to make life a bit like walking on thin ice. Even when it looks as if we’re winning, we’re on edge because we fear that the ice might give way at any moment. I know, because I’ve struggled with these things myself.

    Imagine a different way of living. A calm and courageous way of reaching for whatever we consider to be good and important in our lives, with full acceptance of whatever failures come our way.

    Paradoxically, the perfectionist is more likely to fail because they’re too afraid to bring out the best in themselves. They’re so hungry for approval, and so afraid of failure, that they often don’t do what they know to be good and important.

    They keep the safety wheels on their bicycles even though it slows them down. That’s because they’re convinced that failure will confirm their worthlessness.

    Imagine a different way. Imagine having a deep, unshakable anchor within yourself. An anchor of self-acceptance. No storms in life can then blow you out of the safe harbor of being intrinsically lovable.

    The baby who’s uncertain of being lovable might be too afraid to attempt anything worthwhile. It’s the same with us adults.

    Our perfectionism goes hand in hand with fear of failure. It’s like a prison. However, we have the key, or we can find it.

    This may be the most important lesson life has taught me, and I’m going to share it.

    You can get the key to calm, courageous living by letting others know that they are unshakably lovable despite their failures and mistakes and flaws.

    When you give this gift to others, you begin to believe it yourself. Not as a sterile principle. But as a reality that you feel deep in your being.

    Once you have this key, perfectionism loses its stranglehold over you. You recognize that you are intrinsically worthy and lovable, just like every other human being.

    Life becomes really good and inviting, failure can no longer terrorize, and you get more good and important things done.

    Once you’re prepared to fall flat on your face, life starts to sparkle.

  • Why “Focus on the Bright Side” Isn’t Helpful Advice

    Why “Focus on the Bright Side” Isn’t Helpful Advice

    There are so many memes and quotes out there that say, “Be positive, not negative. Focus on the bright side.” I’ve never been very good at ignoring the negatives and focusing on the positives.

    Call me a critical, over-analytical over-thinker if you want, but at no point in my journey of self-love and self-discovery have I learned to ignore all my flaws, all my mistakes, all my regrets. At no point in my journey of compassion have I learned to ignore all the times that someone has hurt me or all the destruction caused by abuse. That never felt right to me. And you know something? It hasn’t actually been necessary.

    Rewind to six years ago when I was staring at my makeupless face in the mirror. My thoughts said, “Ugly. Horrible. Pale. Look at those blemishes. Look at those hairs. Disgusting. Revolting. Put a bag over your head and hide.” But I kept looking.

    I couldn’t unsee those blemishes. There they were. I couldn’t unsee those hairs. There they were too. Plain as day. I also couldn’t stop myself from thinking that these were disgusting and revolting. Those thoughts were certainly there too! And no amount of positive self-talk was going to make them go away.

    What happened next was fascinating. In addition to observing those hairs, those blemishes, and those thoughts, I saw something else. I saw my face as pure visual information—the way I’d perceive the colors and shapes in an abstract painting. I was giving my face meaning, and I was seeing it as something meaningless.

    Those moments revolutionized my relationship with myself. I didn’t erase my negative self-image. I just added a new perspective. That new perspective balanced my view of myself.

    I think balance is a key word. What bothers me about the whole “be positive, ignore the negatives” idea is that I was abused by some very mentally unstable people in my childhood who did that very thing. They refused to see how they hurt others. They focused only on their good intentions.

    A certain amount of self-criticism, self-judgment, and self-doubt is absolutely essential. It’s what makes us apologize for hurting someone. It’s what makes us improve the areas of our lives that are lacking. It’s what makes us question idealistic, romanticized notions of the world and see things clearly. The so-called “dark side” is essential. It isn’t bad at all.

    A few years ago, my partner and I were in an argument. He was very angry, and the way he was expressing his anger to me was extremely triggering. I felt victimized, oppressed, disgusted. I thought, “I would never do this to you.”

    But then, something happened. Beneath his unhelpful delivery, I saw something. I saw him trying to communicate something about my behavior toward him. Something that hurt me to see. A huge blow to my ego. And he was trying to tell me about it. He was trying to say, “I don’t do this to you.”

    Sure, he wasn’t communicating about it well. But he was communicating something important. We ended the conversation temporarily and went to our separate corners.

    Alone, shame and self-hatred suddenly returned to me, like old friends who don’t bother to knock. My thoughts said, you’re a horrible human being. Look what you’ve done to your boyfriend. Look at how patient he’s been all this time with your intolerable actions, and look at how you treated him for trying to tell you about it.

    Extreme. It was all so extreme. And I couldn’t delete the extremism! I couldn’t remove my self-judgment, and I couldn’t remove my resentment for his angry words. All I could do was find balance.

    I told myself that just because I had made mistakes doesn’t mean I’m a horrible person. I told myself that I could acknowledge that I had room to grow and also respect myself as a human being. I could do both.

    As for him, I could admit that he had something valuable to say and that his communication needed some work. I could see our argument as something that contained pain alongside valuable feedback. It wasn’t good or bad. It was both. It was neither. It just was.

    These moments pop up for me all the time. Last month, when I was travelling, I had something stolen. I felt betrayed, angry, lost. I didn’t try to stop all those feelings, but I also didn’t stop with feeling them. I continued to explore my experience until I found new perspectives on the situation. So being robbed turned into an amazing learning experience! Not because I ignored the pain but because I balanced that pain with lessons.

    Life is paradoxical. Where there’s joy, there’s sadness. Where there is control, there is surrender. Where there is speech, there is silence. Where there’s destruction, there is growth. We do not need to ignore the so-called dark side. It’s an essential part of the way things are. We only need to add an awareness of the other side: what we call the “light.”

    I think this is especially important in these times of political and social unrest. When we try to replace darkness with light, red with blue, wrong with right, we create war. Because what we call dark and wrong exists for a reason. Sometimes, it exists because it is meant to serve us in some way. Sometimes, it exists because it’s a symptom of some bigger issue.

    No matter how much we try to triumph over and defeat our enemies (including our inner enemies), if we do not understand where they come from, they will keep returning in different forms. We need to wage peace, not war, and peace comes from understanding.

    My perfectionism, which destroyed me for many years, was not a malignant tumor to cut out of my experience. It is a helpful pattern. Sure, it doesn’t help when I’m looking at my face or my mistakes. But as I’ve learned to embrace the art of continuously perfecting something (without ever expecting it to be perfect), I’ve become a better writer and a better editor.

    My self-judgment, which almost brought me to an early death, was not a disease. It was overgrown, but it wasn’t unnecessary. My ability to look critically at things helps me expand my perspectives, open my mind, and understand people better. My ability to look critically at myself helps me work on myself, admit my mistakes, and constantly improve.

    My bouts of intense, debilitating self-loathing weren’t useless either. They always had a message. Sometimes, I hadn’t taken a break in months. Sometimes, I was ignoring my own needs while codependently following the desires of the people around me. Sometimes, I had allowed my anxiety to spiral endlessly for weeks and weeks, and my mind had just become tired. I realize now that, in my suicidal moments, I didn’t really want to die. I just wanted to rest. I wanted a break from it all.

    I’ve learned that there is no good or bad. There is only what is most helpful and useful at the time. The answers, as they say, are all within you. They are. And this also means that, in any given situation, some of your inner answers will be more appropriate than others. Everything has its time and place. Everything is a valuable part of your experience.

    This doesn’t mean we should condone rape, murder, or violence. But this attitude can help us understand these tragic occurrences more than judgment can. Why do some people feel like the right answer is to hurt someone else? I think this line of questioning will bring us to a more helpful place than calling those people heartless monsters. It can actually help us work toward solving those social issues.

    And learning to look at ourselves and, instead of asking, “How can I get rid of this horrible part of me? How can I stop doing this unhelpful thing?” We can instead ask, “What could this mean? Which needs might I be meeting with my actions, and how could I meet those needs in a way that serves me more?” We can focus on holistically understanding why something has happened and allowing ourselves to explore different, new solutions to the puzzles of our existence.

    I suppose what I’ve learned over the past six years has been more than self-love. I’ve learned balance. I’ve learned that real happiness is being unafraid of my emotions. I can be sad, angry, happy. I can feel it all, whenever it comes, and know that I won’t get stuck on it. I will let myself experience all the available emotions, and then I will come to peace.

    Instead of trying to focus on the bright side, my task is to let myself see all the sides, remove my judgment about what they mean, and try to appreciate the complexity of my experiences.

    That is the power we have as human beings. We can let ourselves be curious instead of always fearful. We can choose to work on understanding who we are instead of always trying to be who we think we should be. We can let ourselves see what is there and not only what we are used to seeing. We can choose to understand better. We can choose to be aware.

  • Why No One Else Can Make Me Feel Insignificant

    Why No One Else Can Make Me Feel Insignificant

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

    Significance.

    A phenomenon most of us only notice once we lose it.

    If you’re like me, you’ve had (and could still have) a love/hate relationship with significance. Simply because it often seemed so elusive. Just out of reach.

    Our journey together started as far back as I can remember.

    As the youngest of three siblings, I often felt unheard. Overlooked. Ignored. Insignificant.

    I thought it was normal. Didn’t all little sisters bear the same cross? Apparently not…

    As a young adult, I looked to my friends to fill my “significance” gap. Sometimes they did, sometimes they didn’t. Teenage years are notoriously dramatic, and mine were no exception.

    Those were roller-coaster years, as I constantly yearned for a sense of significance. Always relying on others to fill my proverbial cup.

    Moving into adulthood proper, I simply handed the responsibility over to my various romantic partners. Looking back, those poor guys had no clue as to the immensity of the challenge they were taking on.

    Back then, my particular belief system firmly stated that any partner of mine was responsible for how I felt. End of story!

    It was his duty to pander to my emotional needs.

    It was his duty to make me feel good!

    I know, I roll my eyes in disbelief too.

    But what exactly is this significance we all desire?

    This sense of significance that we so readily measure our worth by?

    Think about it. How would you describe your sense of significance?

    Is it something you measure by another person’s judgment of you (e.g.: I’m popular, therefore I’m significant)?

    Or are you able to feel significant despite another’s opinion (e.g.: I feel significant even when I’m alone)?

    I had an incident a while back where, in a moment of desperation, I reached out to a close family member for support. And was deftly turned away.

    It was unexpected. Entirely. And it rocked my little world.

    This person was my support system. My fallback guy. My innermost circle.

    My feelings of insignificance exploded back into my reality. Briefly. But in that moment, they ran deep.

    Significance is often one of the ways in which we define ourselves within a relationship. Whether it be in work, family, friend, or romantic relationships. In other words, in these instances, we seek our sense of significance from someone else. Through their opinion of us, or in their attention to us.

    We believe that what they think matters. A lot.

    And when things are peachy and everyone’s on the same page, it’s awesome! We lift each other. We sing each other’s praises. Feelings of significance and worthiness abound!

    Yet, when the peachiness turns bitter and we stand facing each other, with differing perspectives, the opposite is often true.

    That familiar strength, support, and safety simply evaporates.

    Leaving us raw. Naked. Feeling insignificant.

    Now, before we all reach for the tissues, let me just say: There is value in this.

    It’s only in the nakedness, the rawness, and the full feelings of insignificance that we can actually begin to make a shift. Toward who we really are.

    Because here’s the thing: If we truly lean into those feelings of insignificance without fear, we realize that insignificance doesn’t feel like anything.

    In fact, insignificance doesn’t really exist. At all!

    You can’t see it. Touch it. Or taste it.

    It’s simply a concept.

    Born of the story we’re currently telling ourselves.

    And, as with any story, it’s all made up!

    I’ll venture one step further and suggest that it’s the fear of feeling insignificant that’s scarier for us mortals. And we’ll often do anything to avoid it. Mask it. Or stuff it down.

    When I stood in the face of my own perceived insignificance a few weeks ago, I was initially rattled. I felt small. Rejected. And very alone.

    But only for a bit.

    Because as I faced it down and let the essence of it flow through me, I noticed something astounding.

    Nothing. Had. Changed.

    Nope, I was the same person. I looked the same, smelled the same, and sounded the same.

    Even more importantly, the world didn’t end. Nor did the sky fall in.

    I was okay.

    So, here’s where I got to:

    I get to choose whether I’m significant. Or not.

    Nobody else is qualified to.

    Only my opinion of me matters. Ever.

    There is nothing that anyone (no matter who they are) can say that means anything about me.

    Any sense of insignificance that I feel is simply my own perception.

    Not real.

    A story.

    And if it’s all simply a story, then why not tell myself a good one?

    One where I am important. Worthy. And enough.