Tag: wisdom
-
Loving Yourself Through Addiction and Relapse: Be Patient with the Process
“The greatest glory in living lies not in never falling, but in rising every time we fall.” ~Nelson Mandela
It’s a cold winter day. As I plunge my hand down into the wax paper bag, I fully expect to find another bite or two. But, alas, there are only crumbs.
A distinct wave of sadness shoots through my heart. The chocolate scone is gone. And I don’t even remember eating it.
It is in this moment that I wake up. I quickly shake my head from side to side, as if rousing myself from a long night of troubled dreams.
What have I just done? What about the vow I’ve made to myself, again and again?
For years I have known that the best thing for my body’s healing process is to eat fresh, whole, organic foods (lots of leafy greens, fruits, and nuts!) and to avoid ingredients that overstimulate my endocrine and nervous systems, such as sugar and wheat flour.
And yet, today, here I am again. Eating some stupid, cheap scone I picked up on impulse at the local bakery. Full of who-knows-what ingredients.
Here I am again. Ignoring my own wisdom. Falling back into the food addiction that has plagued me since childhood.
Today I have lost control.
I pull my car over into a parking lot. (Yes, I have been mindlessly scarfing that darned scone while driving!) I take a deep breath.
Now is definitely the time for some self-love.
Addiction is a Dirty Band-Aid
Whether you struggle with a food addiction like I do or you deal with drug or alcohol addiction, every addiction is the same. An addiction is a loss of control over one’s behavior.
Our addictive behaviors don’t just randomly happen for no reason. They are a symptom of a deeper issue.
Why do we get addicted?
That scone or that cocktail or that cigarette brings about a temporary cessation of suffering. They block sadness, tension, fear, pain, boredom, and anger. They numb any and all negative emotions.
To put it simply, an addiction is a coping mechanism. It allows us to trudge onward in life, but without really looking toward the deeper issues.
An addiction may be a short-lived, temporary cure for the pain—but, as we all know, it’s not a long-term solution.
Running to our addiction is like slapping a Band-Aid on the wound—a Band-Aid that is dirty. Over time, the wound gets infected with the dirt and grime, and it worsens rather than heals.
The Addiction is Not the Problem
Here’s the thing about addiction, dear friends: The addiction is not really the problem. The addiction is the glaring symptom.
If we can look deeper than the symptom and see the situation from a holistic point of view, then we may begin to bring about a resolution to much of the suffering in our lives.
So, what is the deeper issue? What lies at the root of addiction?
Ultimately, all addiction—no matter the type or the severity—stems from a lack of connection. When we feel disconnected from other people, from our society, from our deepest hopes and dreams, and from a sense of love, then this disconnection brings about powerful emotions. These emotions hurt, and so we run to the seeming solace of the addiction.
The addiction may seem, on the surface, as if it’s the problem, but actually it’s not. The addiction is, in reality, a helpful pointer, showing us that there’s some internal healing we need to do.
The wonderful thing about addiction is that it is a powerful red STOP sign. It screams loudly: “Look! There’s a problem!”
Addictions help us get in touch with our inner self. Just like a cough helps us connect with the needs of our lungs (do I need fresh air? do I need more exercise? do I need to take certain herbs?), an addiction helps us get in touch with the needs of our heart.
Our heart is the seat of all emotion. Our heart is where feelings arise, are felt, and then released.
When we feel a lack of connection and love, we do not feel safe. We do not feel safe enough to explore the many emotions that can arise as a human being in our daily lives.
When we feel disconnected, negative emotions can feel overwhelming and scary. This is particularly true for those with abuse or trauma in their life history.
The addictive behavior is a misguided attempt to self-soothe. We believe that if we eat that scone or we drink that beer, then those scary emotions will stop and we will somehow be safe, somehow feel connected again.
But we all know that doesn’t work. What ends up happening is that, once the temporary high wears off, we are left feeling crappier than ever.
The addiction is not the problem. The problem, rather, is the false perception that there is no love, no connection.
Rising from Bottom
The cliché of the “rock bottom” is a cliché because it’s true. Most addicts eventually experience it.
Rock bottom looks different for everyone. It will have varying levels of intensity and consequences.
For some, the bottom is drastic: a suicide attempt, an illness, or a hospitalization. For some, it will simply be a very sad day when they realize that the time has come to change.
This time of rock bottom is the moment when we begin to wake up. It’s the time when the healing can truly begin.
For me, my rock bottom with food addiction came when my body had disintegrated nearly to the point of death.
I was on my perhaps my tenth round of antibiotics that year and having a severe allergic reaction to the medication. Delusional with a high fever, unable to lift myself from bed and barely able to call for help, I realized I probably would not live much longer if I did not change just about everything in my life. Shortly after, I began to explore the world of alternative medicine and began to clean up my diet.
We can think of this rock bottom—this intense realization that things need to shift—as the bottom of a spiral. This spiral begins at ground zero, and it moves upward through time.
As the days, weeks, and months pass, and we dedicate ourselves to a new way of being, we will have various challenges that arise. We will learn and grow and allow our emotions to be felt, rather than running from them. We will heal old wounds from childhood that have been lurking for many years.
Over time, with patience, we will be slowly shifting our perspective. We will become a new and better version. We will be moving from contracted perceptions of disconnection, lack, and fear, into expanded perspectives of connection, abundance, and love.
Through the adoption of various healing practices such as meditation, support groups, therapy, prayer, Reiki, or exercise, we come into greater harmony within ourselves. We learn to love ourselves.
Relapses and the Spiral of Evolution
In my struggle with addiction (not just with food, but with many other substances over the years), I have realized I am grateful to addiction. Addiction has played a very powerful role in my spiritual evolution.
Addiction is a powerful point of change. It is a journey inward. It the journey of becoming aware and conscious.
As we humans make this journey, and break the cycles of addiction, it’s so important to remember that change is not linear and it’s often not easy. Relapses happen.
The spiral analogy can be helpful. If we imagine that we are travelling upwards in consciousness, to greater and greater levels of joy, power, and self-awareness, then we can avoid traps of self-blame when we do occasionally relapse.
That day when I woke up to find scone crumbs on my lap was a challenging day indeed. I’d just had a disagreement with my roommate and was struggling with money issues. When I stopped at the bakery that day, intent on buying some tea, those scones whispered sweet love songs to me and I could not find the willpower to resist.
In that relapse, I temporarily lost sight of my own truth: That I want to avoid sugar and wheat flour in order to heal my body.
In that relapse, I was returning to the particular side of the spiral that was so known and comfortable: running to unhealthy food for comfort.
And yet, even though I had returned to that old familiar side of the spiral, I actually experienced this relapse from a greater height! In other words, in this relapse, I was able to more quickly move past it and get back to my own power.
It took just a few minutes and I forgave myself and moved into self-acceptance. I did not beat myself up.
In that cold car on that cold winter day, I placed my hands on my heart, and whispered some words of love and reassurance to myself. In the past, in the beginning of my healing journey with food, I might have added a cookie or a brownie on top of the scone, as a way to escape the terrible emotions of self-judgment and guilt. But—this time I didn’t!
Love Yourself and Heal
A relapse is nothing to be ashamed of. It happens.
If you or someone you love has been healing a pattern of addiction, please know that patience is key.
The spiral of evolution will bring you situations that will test your courage and self-awareness. Sometimes you will succumb. And that’s okay!
If you wake up and suddenly find yourself acting in a way that you know is not your highest good, then congratulate yourself for waking up. Take stock of your long-term changes and pat yourself on the back for coming this far.
Notice how you can more quickly bounce back from the relapse, with greater levels of patience and self-love. Notice how awesome you are!
Ultimately, the journey of addiction recovery is a journey of healing. And it’s a journey all humans go through, as we refine to greater and greater levels what it means to love and care for ourselves.
-
Easing a Broken Heart: 5 Ways to Reframe Rejection
“When the wrong people leave your life, the right things start to happen.” ~Zig Ziglar
The end of a relationship triggers many grief emotions, but when a couple breaks up because one person decides that it’s over, there is a very distinct pain: the sting of rejection. It doesn’t matter whether things had been difficult for some time or if the split came out of the blue; either way, rejection feels cruel.
At the end of my marriage eight years ago, I had no idea that the breakup was coming. On top of the shock that the relationship was suddenly over, I carried the intense and overwhelming feeling of rejection; I was no longer valued, wanted, or needed.
Rejection can trigger feelings of shame, low self-esteem. and diminished confidence as well as helplessness and victimization. If you are left for another person (which was my experience) the intensity of rejection increases further. I experienced anger and resentment about betrayal; this makes healing feel much harder than in those cases where a decision to split is mutual.
When I began move through my initial grief, I found that the biggest shift in moving forward came through changing how I viewed rejection. I realized that by identifying with the feeling of rejection I was telling myself that something was wrong with me; that the marriage was over because I hadn’t come up to scratch and, therefore, needed to be let go.
Of course, this was not true but in the mind of the injured party, it was natural to feel this way. By shifting my perspective, I eventually began to realize that my husband’s decision to leave was not a reflection on me.
It is always hugely important to acknowledge and process feelings of grief; reframing is not about burying your emotions. However, as I’ve learned from my experience, rather than simply waiting for time to be your healer, you can move through pain far sooner and more effectively by viewing your situation in a different way.
Here are five ways I helped myself reframe the rejection.
1. It’s not necessarily about you.
It’s almost impossible not to take rejection personally. My ex-husband said he left because he wasn’t getting what he needed from our relationship; he needed to follow his “truth,” which no longer included me. His narrative of the breakup became about my inability to be what he needed.
This is where shame really kicks in. Rejection tells you that you weren’t enough to keep your partner from leaving and, in some cases, you’ve been replaced with someone who can make them happy.
But what if it’s not all you? As personal and hurtful as the rejection feels, sometimes it happens because the other person is unable to give enough or be enough of what the relationship needs. When someone is unable to love you fully, they will either reject you, or stay in the relationship and treat you badly or indifferently enough until you decide to end it.
We are all human and it’s very rare that one person is flawless within a relationship. I felt far less rejected when I realized that my ex-husband had his own considerable struggles and issues that led him to choose to leave; it wasn’t all about me.
2. Relationships are assignments.
There is a spiritual school of thought that views the people in our lives as lessons. The theory goes that we meet no one by accident; we are all in relationship to further our growth and deepen our connection to ourselves and the universe/each other. Partnerships with a significant other are huge vehicles for growth, but when the learning has gone as far as it can go with one person, it must end.
Sometimes people leave our lives naturally and comfortably, other times we face the pain of rejection. The lesson is not always obvious at first, especially through the pain of grief, but what is initially perceived as rejection can also be viewed as a release from a completed assignment and an opportunity to learn.
Consider that you still have much more to achieve with your life, and maybe your partner was not the person to show you the way. Perhaps being released from your relationship will allow you to find what you really need to become the person you are meant to be.
This reframe can be wonderfully comforting if you choose to find love again in the future. If you learn your difficult lessons from the old relationship, you will grow, and the person you share the next stage of your path with will bring more fulfilment and easier challenges.
3. Change the ending.
When someone chooses to leave you, they not only decide that the relationship is over, they also determine “the story” of why it ended. So, why did my marriage end? The event that ultimately broke us apart was his leaving to be with someone else. However, on another level, there was more to it than that.
I had changed within the marriage; I had been working through a deep personal issue a year or so previously, and had come out of the other side stronger, more content with life, and ready for a happier future with our family. I had grown, but my husband had not changed with me.
When I became aware of this, I started to view the ending as less about rejection and more about an incompatibility between who we both were. It was an empowering reframe because it allowed me to feel far less victimized. The way he ended the marriage was not excusable, but it held far less of an emotional grip over me.
Think about ways that you might have been rejected, not for anything you did “wrong,” but for something that altered the nature of the relationship.
- Did you refuse to have your boundaries crossed or to put up with certain behavior?
- Have you changed for the better in a way that your ex-partner could not handle?
- Were you simply yourself and refused to change to please them?
If you can view the ending in a way that empowers you, even a little bit, it can really ease your pain.
4. Remember you are still whole.
The feeling of rejection is greatly fuelled by the beautiful, romantic idea that two people “complete” each other. The conclusion is quite demoralizing; are we are no longer complete because someone doesn’t want us? What is our role in life now that we are not required to complete the other person?
Losing a partner is painful and the grief of loss is real, but the pain is heightened and prolonged unnecessarily when we believe that we have been rejected by “the other half of ourselves.” It can feel like life has no purpose or meaning anymore. When I began to accept that I was still whole and valuable, it took away the feeling of despair that I was somehow diminished and “less than” because my husband had decided to walk away.
5. Focus on gratitude.
I love using gratitude as a tool for helping to shift into a more positive state of mind. Admittedly, in the early days of grieving, it’s not easy to feel grateful for anything at all, so I found it easier to start with making a list each day of the small blessings in my life—the day-to-day things we usually take for granted. I really recommend this as a practice.
As your mindset starts to shift, you will come to realize that there are genuine reasons to be grateful that you were rejected. Mine included:
- Finding out about my husband’s affair and my divorce. Who knows how long I could have remained unaware, believing my marriage was something it wasn’t?
- The chance to learn to value myself more highly and to become aware of how resilient I am.
- The new life opportunities which came my way once I began to see the loss as an opportunity to have a better life; I know for certain that I would not have the career, and sense of purpose which I have now, without that crisis in my life.
- The chance to understand myself more fully and begin a new healthier and happier relationship.
A heart broken by rejection can be a perfect example of a blessing in disguise. The best way to move forward is to allow yourself to feel the pain, then go on to reframe the loss as an opportunity. Trust that the right things will start to come!
-
Why I Stopped Being Busy and Took a Pressure-Free Pause
“When we get too caught up in the busyness of the world, we lose connection with one another—and ourselves.” ~Jack Kornfield
It was a Monday a few weeks ago, 6:00am, and I was taking a morning walk. The only light in sight was the neon yellow glare of the street lamps.
My heart was heavy. It was as if someone had cut my chest open while I was asleep and slipped a cannonball inside.
My alarm had awoken me at 5:00am, as it had every morning since the start of the year.
My shoes crunch-crunched in the snow as I trudged along, ignoring this dull ache in my chest, telling myself, “It’s just resistance to being up so early. Keep pushing through; gotta get those 12,000 steps today, Will.”
I got to the end of the road, a mere eighty or so meters from my house, and WHOOSH, a wild wave of emotions washed over me, forcing me—jolting me—to stop walking and stand still and silent in the snow.
I stood and stood as if I’d fallen asleep upright and frozen to death.
This whooshing wave felt like a panic attack. Except it wasn’t.
It was this feeling coming from my chest, the one I had tried to ignore. If its first attempt to get my attention was a whisper, this was a shout.
And it was shouting in desperation, ”LISTEN TO ME, WILL.”
Without consciously making the decision, I turned and walked home.
I’d barely walked for two minutes, not quite the forty-five-minute morning walk I had planned, but something inside of me, I can’t explain what, told me this was long enough for today.
Arriving home, I sat down at my desk to give this feeling some attention.
My eyes closed. I did my best to give a name to what I was feeling…
Was it sadness? Nope. Dissatisfaction? Closer, but not quite. Pressure? Yes, pressure! I was feeling pressured!
The next logical question for me was, why? Why was I feeling pressured?
The answer was right under my nose, and no, that’s not a metaphor; the answer was literally right under my nose, sitting there on my desk, staring up at me.
You see, lying there in the center of my desk, scribbled on a piece of paper, was my list of jobs for the day, and it was a long, long list.
I’d listed all the action steps I felt I needed to take, I felt I should take, I felt I must take on this day.
An intimidating list detailing emails to be sent, words to be written, opportunities to be created. More. More. More. This list was going to keep me occupied almost every waking minute of the day, having me run around like a headless chicken, stuck in doing mode.
Sure, there were self-care rituals—meditation, Qi Gong, walks dotted throughout the day—but even these seemed like chores within my strict schedule, just something else to tick off.
Supporting myself through this, next, I pondered the question:
How can I take this pressure off of myself?
At first, no ideas came to mind, nothing, nada.
Because wasn’t my list full of non-negotiables?
Then an insight arose, which brought with it an air of refreshment followed by fear.
“TAKE TIME OFF, WILL.”
My heart was speaking to me again, the same voice that had spoken to me earlier on my walk, now providing me with an insight to take time off.
Which was fascinating because the voice of my mind had been telling me to do the exact opposite previously, telling me to write out a big long list of to-dos.
It was my mind that had told me to wake up at 5:00am so I could do more during each day.
It was my mind dishing out the restricting need, must, and should statements.
The thought of taking time off was refreshing, but the fear was: What would happen if I stopped living in doing-mode for some time?
Fear suggested that taking time out would be a bad thing; I’d lose out on an opportunity of some kind or end up getting lazy. My heart trusted that taking time out, or rather, slowing down was the right path to take to relieve the pressure.
After a little more reflection, my heart gave me a complete ‘prescription’ to take the pressure off of myself. It involved three stages.
1. Distinguish between non-negotiable commitments and desires so that I could be more flexible.
So much of what I thought were non-negotiables were not. They were nothing more than rules I had created. For example, I had told myself I must finish my studies by March. In truth, I don’t have to; this is just a desire.
I still had a list of commitments I couldn’t stop entirely, but it was a much shorter and more manageable list!
2. Pause my desires to relieve the pressure.
Once I’d identified my actual commitments (work, family, household duties), I looked at my list of desires and gave myself permission to pause these.
This was when fear crept in again…
Am I allowed to pause my commitments?
Am I allowed to say no to people?
The answer is yes.
I decided on a three-week pause period where I would concentrate only on actual commitments and, of course, concentrate on taking care of myself.
I decided to pause my studies, any reading for learning (as opposed to enjoyment), any business-related activities, being active on social media—anything I felt I could pause temporarily without jeopardizing myself.
3. Create a refreshment plan.
Within my three-week pause period, I set some gentle intentions for how I would spend my time. After all, I had created a lot of time by simply pausing the desires that were causing the pressure.
So I asked myself a different question.
Rather than “What must I do?” I asked myself, “What would I love to do?”
Some of my answers included:
– Resting. Sleeping longer and napping during the day. My long days were making me feel exhausted.
– Spending more time outside in nature. I was spending too much time in the online world, staring at computer screens all day. I’ve found myself on my walks, just pausing, closing my eyes, and enjoying the warmth of the sun on my face.
– Spending more time with my girlfriend, Yvonne, and my family and friends. I know the quality of our personal relationships is a huge determining factor in our levels of happiness. I’d been a little neglectful of this.
– Reading more fiction. I normally read to learn, which I love, but it’s tough going. I wanted to escape to some far-off fictional land!
– Practicing the act of appreciation. Tony Robbins says, “Trade your expectations for appreciation, and your whole world changes in an instant.” Having dropped my personal expectations of myself and switched to appreciating, this has certainly been true for me. Each night I’ve been listing ten things I appreciate.
I’m two weeks into my pause period, and I’m pleased to say I’m feeling refreshed. My personal relationships have improved, the weight has been lifted from my shoulders and chest, and I feel somehow I’ve gotten out of my own way.
Perhaps I was being busy in an illusionary attempt to feel in control of the areas of my life I wished to move forward.
This may be true.
I also feel we often stay stuck in ‘doing mode,’ moving toward our goals, because we feel on the other side of those actions and goals is what we really want.
And what do we really want? I can only speak for myself, of course. When all is said and done, what I really want most is the freedom to enjoy my life and to feel good.
By taking a step back, I’ve realized an important truth.
I have this freedom right now.
It’s a funny world we live in where we work so long and hard to essentially buy back our freedom at a later date.
It’s far easier to appreciate the level of freedom we have right now, before pursuing more. This has been my biggest lesson.
There is absolutely a time for actions, progress, a time for being down on our knees planting seeds.
However, we need to be mindful of when it’s time to pause and take a step back and enjoy the warmth of the sun on our faces.
-
How I Learned to Stop Absorbing Other People’s Emotions
“Sometimes I think I need a spare heart to feel all the things I feel.” ~Sanober Khan
I felt her agony and loneliness as if it were my own. Even as I write that sentence, my eyes well up and heaviness fills my heart. Then, I’m reminded to apply the advice I give others.
My mom was a special person, a sensitive soul just like me. Actually, I’m so much like she was, yet so different. One of the differences between us is that I had an opportunity to observe her life’s challenges. I saw her challenges reflected within myself and made a conscious choice to find healthy ways to cope.
You see, my mom was a deep feeler and felt the emotions of people near and far. I imagine it was her strong empathy and personal challenges that led her to want to help others, as a wounded healer in a sense.
But as a helper and healer, she struggled with her mental and emotional health over the years. Witnessing her life moved me to learn how to regulate my own sensitive emotions and set healthy boundaries.
Sometimes I wonder if not knowing how to manage her empathy is what made her sick.
There are many ways to understand the challenges my mom battled before her death in 2007. From her perspective, she had a rare, unknown physical illness. Some who knew her may have thought she was manipulative and attention-seeking. Some would see an addiction to pain medication. Psychologists would diagnose her with psychosomatic disorder, borderline personality disorder, and bipolar disorder.
Maybe all and none of those explanations are true. But perhaps she didn’t have any “disorder” at all. I’m not really asserting that to be true, but merely posing a curious question. What if she was just a sensitive, empathic person who lacked the skills to manage the pain around and within her? What if one unhelpful coping mechanism led a to slew of other ailments?
I believe my mom felt real physical and emotional pain. I struggled to fully understand her over the years. But after many years of reflection, I now trust her experience because of what I know about my own sensitive nature.
As sensitive people, we may present with high emotion and feel easily overwhelmed by our senses. We’re often told by the world that there’s something wrong with us. And when we think there’s something inherently wrong with us, we tend to tuck these traits away into our “shadow” or unconscious mind.
Well, now we’ve not only tucked away our core nature, but possibly the empathic depth that goes along with being a sensitive person as well. There may be a part of us that knows that we’re emotional sponges. Yet, we may choose to ignore our nature without really learning how to manage our empathy in such a way that prevents “dis-ease” and fosters well-being.
This was me for a long time.
Not only am I prone to feeling depleted and drained in situations with certain people, but emotional pain of others tends to show up in my physical body. When I over-feel, my throat feels like it’s closing and as my chest constricts, my chronic back pain flares up.
My boyfriend was complaining of one of those small, painful pimples inside his nose recently. I got one as well. We joked about sympathy pains, but I do wonder sometimes.
I’ve felt the emotional pain of my family, friends, clients, and strangers. It’s not a simple, “Oh, I feel bad for him.” It’s feeling the despair and rejection of that teenager whose parents didn’t pick him up when he was released from the behavioral hospital where I worked. It’s the deep anguish of being that relative who feels no one believes her and she’s all alone.
I feel challenged to find the right language to express it all because the deep heartache and heavy burden is a feeling not a word.
The thing is that no matter how painful it is to feel the weight of the world in my body, I wouldn’t trade my depth and ability to feel for anything. The empathy that comes with high sensitivity is a true gift if we know how to use it.
We need more kind, compassionate souls if we want to heal the world. Sensitive people have a natural capacity to show kindness because of our profound empathy.
Deep empathy gives us a special strength in relating and connecting to others. When we genuinely care, we’re more apt to be able to understand another person in a way not that all people can. Our sincerity can help us to develop meaningful, fulfilling relationships.
Relationships offer us a chance to not only grow a deep sense of connection with another human being, but also an opportunity to learn about ourselves. Both of these are integral to the human experience.
And as sensitive people, we not only feel the intensity of pain, but also the intensity of joy.
Yet, regulating our empathy is key to stopping the flood of emotion from overwhelming our ability to cope and care for our well-being.
If we want to stop absorbing emotional baggage from others, it all starts with taking care of our physical, social, mental, emotional, and spiritual needs. I know it sounds like the whole world is harping on the idea of self-care, but there’s a reason for this.
When our own immune system or energy is depleted, we become a perfect sponge for sopping up emotions. We must take care of ourselves to avoid absorption in the first place.
1. When you notice heavy emotion, start by labeling what you’re feeling.
Labeling helps to bring us into a state of pause, which can help us to gain a little distance from the emotional experience for a moment.
2. Ask yourself whether what you’re feeling is yours, someone else’s, or a mix of the two.
It can be difficult to discern the difference sometimes. One approach I like to take is if I think I might be feeling a particular person’s “stuff,” I’ll imagine the person as completely whole, content, and full of light. Then I’ll revisit my own experience and see if I still feel the same way.
This played out in a recent loss in my life. While I was experiencing my own grief, when my relative who was closest to this person seemed to start to heal, I realized that much of my sadness released as well.
3. The moment you catch yourself feeling emotions that aren’t yours, raise your awareness of what’s happening within you.
It can help to say the word “compassion” to yourself as a way of intentionally focusing on what you can do to be supportive rather than allowing yourself to be overpowered by emotion.
4. Take a deep breath and notice where in your body you feel the most calm, grounded, or neutral.
It might be as simple as your toe or finger. Bring your attention to that place in your body and allow it to be a centering force to keep you grounded while you process and release any feelings you may have absorbed. Sometimes just having one calm place in our body can serve as a resource when the rest of you is feeling overwhelmed.
5. Return the other person’s emotions to them.
It is not your responsibility to carry other people’s emotional distress, and equally important, it helps absolutely no one. Try saying to yourself, “I’m letting this emotional pain that is not mine go now.” Remember that other people have to go through their own processes in order to grow.
6. Use visualization to fully release the emotions.
I find that it helps me to visualize a waterfall flowing through my body as a final release of any residual emotional gunk I might be carrying.
—
At the center of all of the above steps is building the awareness to know when we’re allowing ourselves to absorb and and adopting tools to reduce this propensity. As a sensitive person, your empathy is a gift that the world needs. It’s up to each of us to channel our empathy into greater compassion so that we can remain strong and well.
-
Pre-Order Tiny Buddha’s Worry Journal and Receive 3 Free Bonus Gifts
There was a time when worrying was like breathing to me. It’s estimated that we think between 50,000 and 70,000 thoughts per day and we breathe 23,040 breaths. It would likely be accurate for me to say I once panicked as often as I inhaled.
I worried about what people thought of me. I worried that people weren’t thinking of me at all. I worried about what could go wrong. I worried I might have done something wrong. And I worried about being wrong—just by being me.
All this worry was crippling. It’s hard to enjoy anything when you’re there but not because the deepest part of you is tied up in knots, held hostage by your perpetually panicked brain.
I eventually learned that my body and mind were primed for anxiety in my younger years—meaning I lived in a constant state of fight-or-flight mode, always on edge and on the lookout for threats—and that I’d reinforced this sense of dread through persistently negative, irrational thoughts.
I suspect many of us live like this: with a fearful, racing mind and a sense that at any time, the other shoe could drop—and it might be freakishly large enough to crush us. But we don’t have to stay under this weight.
Over the years, I’ve learned a lot about relaxing my body, calming my mind, and proactively managing anxiety.
I’ve learned to recognize the thoughts that don’t serve me and to actively shift my perspective before I get swept up in a vortex of fear.
I’ve learned to embrace uncertainty and to trust that I can handle whatever comes at me.
And I’ve learned to accept that I will sometimes experience anxiety, no matter how much I heal or grow, so I don’t fight myself so much when it inevitably happens.
This is what compelled me to create Tiny Buddha’s Worry Journal, with the help of my talented friend, illustrator Rose Hwang.
Filled with quotes, prompts, and questions, along with coloring and doodling pages, Tiny Buddha’s Worry Journal provides a number of different activities to help you reframe your worries and minimize anxiety in your daily life.
If you have a hard time detaching from worrisome thoughts, this could be just what you need to learn to let go and ease your troubled mind. It takes a little time and practice, but with just a few mindful minutes each day, and the right tools, anyone can become less anxious.
If you pre-order before the June 26th launch date, you’ll receive three free bonus gifts, including:
A series of four meditations on letting go (led by yours truly), each with an EFT tapping session led by Naomi Jansen and an introductory chat with Naomi and her One Mind Live co-founder Stephen Fearnley
An exclusive audio interview with me and Ehren Prudhel, host of the soon-to-be-launched podcast Next Creator Up, focusing on worries related to pursuing a new dream (more specifically, my first feature screenplay)
A series of three vibrant desktop wallpapers featuring adorable Buddhas and calming quotes
All you need to do to claim your bonuses is pre-order your copy from any online vendor and then forward your purchase confirmation email to worryjournal@tinybuddha.com.
Worry is a part of life, but it doesn’t have to control us. It’s possible to breathe a lot easier. These days, I do. I hope this journal helps you do the same.
**Though Amazon hasn’t yet discounted the price, it will likely go down soon, as it always does. As part of Amazon’s pre-order price guarantee, you’ll be charged the lowest price offered before the launch date.
-
Why I No Longer Believe There’s Something Wrong with Me
“Our thoughts create our beliefs, meaning if you think about yourself a certain way for a long enough period of time you will ultimately believe it.” ~Anonymous
You’re ugly. You’re stupid. You’re a loser.
Imagine thinking this way about yourself every day. No exaggeration. That was me.
When a girl didn’t want to go on a second date with me, I told myself I was ugly. When I didn’t know what someone was talking about, I told myself I was stupid. When my Instagram post only received two likes, I told myself I was loser.
I spoon-fed myself toxic thoughts like these on a daily basis for years. And what’s worse is I believed them.
But why? Where do these toxic thoughts and beliefs even come from? Well, for most of us they come from our childhoods, and they are largely based on experiences with our caregivers.
My belief system (which fuels those not-so-nice thoughts listed above) was formed by the tragic death of my mother when I was three-and-a-half years old and by my rageaholic cocaine-addict father. I internalized Mom’s death and Dad’s crazy behavior (trust me, it was bad) the only way I knew how to: I thought I was the problem.
You see, my dad never sat me down and apologized for bursting into my room in the middle of the night high on cocaine and torturing me. He never apologized for not allowing me to celebrate my birthdays. He never apologized for making me get in front of my soccer team and tell them that I was a bad boy and couldn’t play in that week’s game.
Since he never apologized to me, my growing little mind took it personally and figured I must be the problem. I thought I deserved to be punished and as such, a negative thought pattern was born.
Like a kid at school writing on a chalkboard because he did something wrong, my thoughts wrote in my mind over and over again: I did something wrong. I did something wrong.
This consistent negative self-talk eventually turned into a core belief: I am wrong. I am wrong.
Imagine growing up believing that your very existence is wrong. That was me. I was hard-wired by my parents to believe this. It was like being sentenced for a crime that I didn’t commit.
As an adult I actively looked for validation in other people as a result of this belief. I became a people-pleaser, a yes man, a guy that would do anything for you to like me. Please like me, please tell me I’m okay.
If you liked me, I felt less broken, but one person liking me was never enough. If I was in a room with 100 people and all of them but one liked me I would worry and fret, wondering what I had done to upset that one person.
I also thought I had to be perfect in every area of my life. My hair had to be perfect. My clothes had to be perfect.
I had to say the right things. Do the right things. Be the right thing.
I also used each failed attempt for your validation as proof that I was broken. See!
I would go to bed at night saying I was done with that kind of behavior, yet I would wake up in the morning and start it all over again. It was like the movie Groundhog Day. I was living the same day over and over again, and I couldn’t stop.
I hit what I’ll call my rock bottom eight years ago when I was thirty-seven-years old. I hated myself and the life I had created and desperately wanted change.
But how? How do we let go of deeply rooted false beliefs that no longer serve us? The same way we formed them.
You begin by detaching from the individual thoughts that reinforce the negative belief, then you let go of the belief all together. I’ve heard them called illusions, false beliefs, and even lies. It took time for me to believe these lies and it took time for me to undo them.
Henry David Thoreau said, “As a single footstep will not make a path on the earth, so a single thought will not make a pathway in the mind. To make a deep physical path, we walk again and again. To make a deep mental path, we must think over and over the kind of thoughts we wish to dominate our lives.”
In order to let go of false beliefs, we have to practice observing our thoughts and recognize when we are acting on old stories about our worth. By repeatedly choosing not to get caught up in the old stories, we can begin to experience the world in a new way.
You don’t go to the gym once and suddenly you’re in the best shape of your life. No, you go five to six times a week, eat healthy, and get plenty of rest. And you do this over and over again.
The same goes for our minds. The more we work toward mindfulness and self-kindness, the quicker we will default to it. When you catch yourself having a negative thought, recognize that you don’t have to get attached to it and choose to let it pass. If you’re having trouble letting it go, tell yourself a new, more empowering story.
And above all else, just remember, it had nothing to do with you. You did nothing wrong. You are not flawed.
I didn’t commit a crime. I just absorbed the information given to me the only way my eight-year-old mind knew how to.
So where do we start? It’s different for all of us, but if you’re reading this and relating to any of it then that in and of itself is a start. That’s the beginning of self-awareness.
For me it was all about becoming self-aware. That was my first step toward personal change.
I knew I couldn’t do things on my own (been there, tried that), so I started with a twelve-step program. Liberation would never be possible if I kept reaching for validation from other people, so I took a deep breath and courageously stepped into my first meeting and admitted that I had a problem.
It was there that I opened up and allowed myself to be seen for who I was: a wounded man who sometimes still felt like a scared little boy. Eventually, little by little, I shared my childhood secrets and I was loved for doing so. It was an eye opening experience, which immediately changed my thought process to: I did nothing wrong.
For the last eight years I’ve been letting go of false thoughts and beliefs, which in turn has created new possibilities for how I think and feel in relationships. I hope you can do the same.
-
No Matter What Life Takes Away, You Still Have Everything You Need
“What wisdom can you find that is greater than kindness?” ~Jean-Jacques Rousseau
On February 21, 2009, I received a phone call that would alter the course of my life. It was my sister, and I could barely make out what she was saying. My mom was in the hospital and had received a diagnosis of terminal pancreatic cancer.
My body absorbed the news before my brain did. Since I had lost my ability to reason, from someplace beyond me I found a way to keep functioning. I asked my sister to put my mom on the phone.
What could I say?
Nothing.
There was nothing to say to comfort her. She was heading into the final unknown of life and I couldn’t do a thing to help her.
As soon as we hung up, I was out the door to the airport.
I hate to fly.
Somehow, I made the trip and two remarkable friends greeted me. I hadn’t seen them in a long time.
It didn’t matter. This was a crisis. What do you do in a crisis? You show up.
They hugged me and we headed to their car. My sad, little carry-on luggage trailed behind me in a precarious zigzag. The ice of the Midwest was testing my luggage’s mettle while the end of everything tested mine.
I was a complete mess. I had to constantly reach within myself to get to the beyondness carrying me through.
This “beyondness,” as I don’t really know how else to describe it, guided me. It was directive but kind. It kept showing me the whole picture.
You need the whole picture if you are going to walk with your mom through the end of her days.
The beyondness told me to ask about my friends. It said that, though my life seemed over in this instant, nothing is permanent. Not life, not grief, not anything.
Make the most of the moments with people you don’t often see, it told me. Ask them what’s on their minds and feel the truths in their hearts. You don’t need to be perfect in how you inquire about them, but do your best, it said.
I did my best. As I sat in the back of the car with the streetlights zipping past, I asked them about their lives. I also expressed my gratitude for the ride to the hospital.
It was what I needed. Somehow the beyondness knew that I needed to turn my attention outward right then. It helped. The beyondness always knows what is in your best interest if you quiet your mind enough to hear it.
I had been to this hospital before. Years ago, my sister had given birth to both of my nieces here. They are Irish twins, so I had visited here on two separate, remarkably happy occasions.
I had never visited it with my stomach locked in a death knell of knots.
As I headed into the entrance, I still had that stupid, mind-of-its-own luggage wreaking having on my extended arm.
I have never hated luggage more.
The beyondness reminded me that hating inanimate objects doesn’t change reality. It said hating animate objects and random people you meet on this journey will only make a bad day worse.
I did not need worse. Learning my mom was dying already had that in spades.
I needed better, so I had to choose kindness again and again. Even when I wanted to scream and yell and cry and scream some more. Forgive my luggage now, throw it across the room later.
Kindness first, meltdown later.
Got it.
Even though I had absolutely no idea what I was doing, I marched with tremendous urgency through the halls of the hospital to find my mom. When I located her room I allowed one small self-pity breath, squared my shoulders, and stepped over the threshold.
I immediately became the default matriarch. I say “default” because I wasn’t even nominated! Honestly, the beyondness took over, and I knew I had to follow its lead.
First things first: Hug my mom as if life depended on it, because it did. Cry, only a little, as I processed her trying to process her imminent death.
After a while, I made sure all the visitors were acknowledged, hugged, and validated. This helped me because many of them understood the depth of the grief that blanketed the hospital room. A hug here, a tissue there, and finally, a plan for me to stay and permission for everyone else to leave.
Here’s the thing about beyondness: It allows you the strength to head straight into the center of terror when almost everyone else has to flee.
Then it was just me and my mom.
I have never talked much about what it was like to be with her on diagnosis night. Mostly because it makes me deeply sad, but also, it has felt too sacred.
Until now, the beyondness told me to get over myself.
We sat side by side and cried.
After some of the tears had subsided, we talked.
We didn’t hold back any punches. I told her that I was going to miss her. Maybe that was the wrong thing to say, but I wanted to be honest.
I wanted her to know that she meant the world to me.
She told me that if I ever needed her when she was gone, to still talk to her and ask her questions. I would know what the answers would be. I had spent my life up until that point learning the lessons she had taught me and learning from her example, I would know what was what.
I would be okay.
You know, that has been the one constant in my life as I navigated her loss. I do ask her questions, and I do know what she would say.
It helps.
As we curled around each other in a ball of despair, denial inevitably found its way to us. Don’t knock it ‘til you try it.
Denial will help you function. It’s different than beyondness because it alters the truth. Beyondness tells it like it is; it’s still kind, but it deals with facts. Denial suspends your grief until you are better able to handle it. It lies to you like crazy. I am grateful to both.
In our little bubble of denial, we discussed ways to prolong her life. There were some palliative options that seemed reasonable. We thought we were looking at months. We weren’t. We were looking at days.
Days.
Yes, from diagnosis to death only seventeen days would pass.
Denial breaks down quickly at this high rate of speed.
All that I had to sustain me was the beyondness. Normally, in a harrowing situation like this, I would turn to my mom.
This was no longer an option for me. This was the test to prepare me for the rest of my life.
I would not fail her.
The beyondness helped me through. It helped me anticipate her needs before she said them. It kept giving me the big picture and reminded me kindness, kindness, kindness first.
Always kindness.
Do not kill the messenger. Embrace the messenger. Do not get snippy with the nurses. Embrace the nurses.
I was so good about this most of the time. There was one particularly awful day and one particularly awful nurse.
I tried kindness. I was so tired that day. So very tired, and I wanted someone, anyone, to make my mom’s pain stop. This particular nurse did not take me seriously. She did not take my mom’s pain seriously.
This was not a good day.
The beyondness forgave me for my angry meltdown. As long as I remembered kindness most of the time, I was doing my job.
The beyondness kept showing me that in time, I was going to heal. I was going to be able to walk around on the planet and actually find reasons to smile.
Nothing lasts. Not life, not grief, not anything.
Be kind.
Through this kindness I connected with some of the hospital staff. Even though my heart had cracked wide open with despair, the beyondness knew lashing out at others would get me nowhere.
Instead, I chose to be kind—both for their benefit and my own.
Despite everything—the fear, the hurt, the sadness—I knew keeping my frayed heart open would come back to me and my mom tenfold. This led to an overall better quality of care for my mother.
I wasn’t winning the day by any stretch, but sometimes I’d win an extra blanket if my mom felt cold. The blanket would arrive promptly, handed over with a smile.
To receive love, we must give love first. The more we give away, the more it comes back to us.
In our time at the hospital, my mom had to move floors and change rooms. I made an effort to get to know our roommates. I say ours because I spent every night my mom was in the hospital with her.
We slept in the same bed. Side by side.
It was the least I could do.
In getting to know our roommates, I learned that often their circumstances were more harrowing than my mother’s.
How is that possible? She at least had loved ones surrounding her. Some of the patients I met had no one.
I bought a young woman battling cervical cancer a gift for her baby. It was a teddy bear.
She slept with it clutched to her chest each night.
She needed that bear more than her baby at home did.
Kindness first. Always the kindness.
This is how you will survive the darkest moments of your life. When all power feels stripped away as life drifts from the dream you had painted in your mind, you can choose to be kind.
Life may take away what you cherish the most, but it cannot take away your power to choose how you face what is lost.
I knew I couldn’t control what was happening to my mother, but I could control how I responded to each situation, each day. This little bit of power was my shining gem of hope in the darkness.
Still, it wasn’t always easy to keep going. Family and friends helped. My husband showing up once denial was completely obliterated helped. Knowing I had two boys at home that loved me as much as I loved my mom helped.
The beyondness said tragedy strips away the unnecessary. What remains is truth. The truth shows you who has your back. Watch and learn.
The truth helped me know when I could rest my weary head, heart, and body. The truth knew who would hold my mom’s hand when I didn’t have the strength left in me to do so.
I had an inkling who my true-heart warrior people were, but like beyondness said, tragedy whittled away the unnecessary. What remained for me was a treasure trove of exceptional people. I thank each and every one of them for their calls, their visits, their kindness, and their love.
Thank you.
In addition to these astounding people, it was the beyondness that helped sustain me. It was the energy that surrounded my mom and me when all was quiet. Its buzzing became so loud I didn’t understand why I was the only one who could hear it.
Yes, I had to walk with my mom through the valley of the shadow of death. But maybe because I did, I was able to walk through the gates of heaven even if only for a little while.
Precious.
All of it precious.
Thank you, Mom.
-
Drop the Mask: The Freedom of Living an Authentic Life
“It takes courage to grow up and become who you really are.” ~e.e Cummings
Here is an unsettling idea: Most of us are not who we think we are. We are not the people we bring to work; we are not the people we show to our parents and children; and sometimes we are not the people we show our friends.
Most of us go through our entire lives wearing a series of masks.
We have different masks for different purposes and occasions: the “perfect” mask of someone who’s always strong, positive, and together; the professional mask for today’s meeting; the expert mask that we put on when teaching or advising; the malleable and energetic one we put on when selling our skills or flogging our wares.
Our masks become so comfortable we lose awareness that we are wearing them. But make no mistake, the masks we wear are not who we are.
Those masks that we put on to protect ourselves, that we reach for to be taken seriously, that we don because we think we should be that soft-spoken, outgoing, or strong, these masks are not who we are.
Beneath our masks are real, sentient human beings, people with opinions and passions, people who can be angry and impatient; human beings who can be deeply empathetic and compassionate.
If we want to be reminded of what a real-life, uncensored human looks like, spend some time with a baby. These little cherubs laugh with their whole bodies, and they do it frequently and loudly. They cry with gusto, their bellies expanding like a balloon when they are building up to a real howl.
If they are already talking, they voice their opinions clearly and honestly. “Don’t like it. Want more. No, not going.”
Their questions are beautiful and profound because of their honesty and completely untarnished way of experiencing the world.
Most of all, when watching these little humans, we can observe that wherever they are, whatever they are doing, they are fully in it. We work our whole lives to recapture this authenticity and ability to be present.
Some time early in our development, something tragic happens. Maybe it happens the first time we are given signals that being jealous of a sibling is not appropriate, that crying when we are hurt is being dramatic, or that being loud is annoying. We get signals that the way we are behaving is not making the adults around us happy.
Little by little, bit by bit, we adopt socially acceptable behaviors, facial expressions, voice volumes, and agreeable ideas that harden into a series of masks.
In any given moment, our truth lies beneath the masks we wear, sometimes screaming for oxygen. We work really hard to stuff our truth down, to temper ourselves to fit in, to follow the rather rigid rules of social acceptability.
We need to be authentic to fully express ourselves in the world. When we try to stuff down our inner voice or pretend it doesn’t exist, it fights back. Stuffed inside our body, repressed feelings can lead to depression, insomnia, physical pain, and if we continue, diseases like cancer and heart disease. This is real. Inauthenticity makes us sick.
Thankfully, our authentic selves have enormous strength. I say thankfully because these breakdowns of our coping mechanisms often lead us to our greatest insights about ourselves.
The people I know who are fully and authentically themselves have been led there by difficult events, by a crisis that shook their world, by insights that have loosened their masks long enough to reveal the people underneath waiting to breathe and live life fully.
This has definitely been my experience. My divorce was a crisis point. Although it was over a decade ago, it remains the most transforming single event of my life. In an instant, any ideas that my former life had created were blown to smithereens.
I saw with glaring clarity how the married person I had become was a role I was playing. For years I had been editing my behavior and my dreams to fit what I thought I was supposed to be. I wasn’t even sure who that person was, but I knew she was more patient and her energy was smaller, and it didn’t overwhelm people.
Worse, I began to understand that I didn’t even know who I was. I’d been wearing the mask of Olympic athlete, public figure, wife, and mother for so long that I wondered if I was still in there.
When my marriage blew up, I was possessed with renewed energy. This wasn’t because my husband was a rotten guy who had kept me under his thumb; this was because the pain, the upheaval, and the shock of what had happened broke my mask in one fell swoop. A life crisis put me back on the path of discovering my authenticity.
If all this sounds a little hokey to you, think about something really difficult you have experienced, like the loss of a loved one, the loss of a job, or the end of a primary relationship. Often in these times of extreme crisis, we make deep connections with others—the friends that support us, the sister who holds our hand by a parent’s deathbed. In crisis, people can drop their masks and simply reach out for one another, human to human.
There is something so magical and refreshing about this connection that many people never come back fully into their mask-wearing afterward. Life has new meaning, and the desire to live connected and live authentically becomes a motto for life.
When I shredded the masks I was wearing, I found myself filled with creative energy. It turns out that all that pretending is pretty exhausting. When I stopped trying to be who I thought I was supposed to be, it was like I plugged my soul into a current of electric life energy. I started writing books, taking courses, painting, studying yoga, and doing all sorts of things I didn’t consciously know I wanted to do.
Through the pain of upheaval and loss, I freed myself of the personas that I’d layered on top of my authenticity for decades.
Reconnecting with my truth was a new and exciting adventure as well as a coming home. In terms of my mental and physical health, I believe coming home to myself saved my life. It could save yours.
So say what you really feel. Make the choices you really want to make. Forget who you think you’re supposed to be and let yourself be as you are. At the very least, finding the courage to reconnect with the self inside yourself could be the single most liberating act of your life.
-
8 Tips So You Don’t Lose Yourself In Your Next Relationship
“Never lose yourself in a relationship. Love your partner fiercely, but always follow your unique dreams and desires. Be true to yourself.” ~Unknown
All my previous relationships drained me.
Not only because I was with the wrong men and kept trying to make things work where there was no way, but also because I was a queen of justifying, accommodating, and compromising.
I accommodated men because I wanted to be liked and avoid rejection.
I justified their lousy behavior because I wanted to be in a relationship and not be alone.
I compromised on my values and romantic ideals just to have someone in my life.
On the surface, I was an independent woman, strong, fierce, and full of energy and opinions.
When it came to relationships, I’d lose my power and myself completely in them.
I would become a meek mouse with no voice or opinions. I would put my boyfriend’s needs first and ignore mine. I would keep quiet about how I felt. I wouldn’t question things.
It took me a few love attempts and ten years of random dating to recognize my unhealthy patterns.
Firstly, I was subconsciously copying the behavior of my mum, who needed to survive with my despotic dad in a very turbulent relationship. I didn’t know any better until I learned the hard way.
Secondly, I didn’t feel worthy of love. I didn’t feel like I was good enough for anyone. I was afraid to be myself, as I didn’t feel like I had much to offer.
Thirdly, I wasn’t happy with myself and my life and I believed a relationship would change that, so my desire to be in one was pretty strong.
These patterns made me feel and act like I was desperate for love. So, once I landed myself a boyfriend, I’d do anything to please him and keep him in my life.
I would be a cheerful giver. I would take all the responsibility for the relationship on my own shoulders. I would make my men’s life easier by doing things for them and sometimes against myself. I would accommodate their busy schedules, moods, and issues. I would help them improve their self-esteem and lifestyle so they’d feel happier within. I would completely disappear in my relationships.
Everything in my relationships was about the men. They became my main focus and the most important thing in my life.
I would abandon myself. I would give up my friends, my passions, and my dreams. I would lose my own identity in the name of love. My main priority was to keep them happy so I could keep the relationships.
But even all the crazy giving and accommodating wouldn’t keep dysfunctional relationships going. So, when it came to an end, I would have nothing left to give.
Every split left me feeling empty. It almost felt like a little part of me died after every relationship.
I didn’t know who I was anymore because I was focusing so heavily on the relationship that I’d completely neglect myself.
It didn’t feel healthy at all.
When I started to become more aware of my patterns and how harmful they were to me and my love life, I made some promises to myself.
1. The relationship with myself comes first
2. A man will never be more important to me than I am to myself
3. I will always love myself more than any man in my life
Although they might sound a bit harsh, these rules have served me and my relationship amazingly well so far.
The truth is, your relationship with yourself is the most important one in your life. Also, it is the foundation of any other relationship, so it makes sense to prioritize and nurture it.
If you love someone else more than yourself, you will always compromise too much, ignore the red flags, get hurt, and lose yourself in your relationships.
You can’t love in a healthy way unless you love yourself first. Also, the love for yourself will help you set stronger boundaries in relationships, protect yourself, and find the courage to walk away from any relationship that doesn’t serve you.
Along with these promises, I also made a decision that I wanted to create something different in my love life. I wanted to create a healthy and happy relationship, unlike the one my parents had and the ones I’d had in the past.
To do that, I needed to become someone different. Not really a different person, but become braver and more authentic in my relationships. Otherwise, what is the point?
I needed to start speaking my mind, expressing my feelings, and asking for what I wanted. I simply needed to become more vulnerable in my relationships.
Firstly, I took a break from dating and focused on becoming happier and stronger.
Secondly, when I found the right person, I had some new rules in place to support myself in staying strong in my relationship. I didn’t want to lose myself in a relationship again. Because, to be honest, losing yourself is far more painful than losing a relationship. And it will take you forever to find your strength, dignity, and truth again.
Here are some things I did differently, before and after getting into a new relationship, that you can do too to make sure you don’t lose yourself.
Establish a strong foundation while you are single.
We lose ourselves in relationships because we don’t feel worthy of love and our boundaries are weak. When you love yourself, you know how you want to feel and be in your next relationship. You also set healthy boundaries, which prevents you from losing your identity in a relationship.
How do you start loving yourself? Here are three tips you can implement straightaway.
1. Start every day by asking yourself: What do I need today? How can I be loving with myself today? Follow the answers, as they will help you be more loving and respectful of yourself.
2. Operate from a loving, compassionate place within yourself. Choose people, situations, and things in your life that serve you and don’t harm you. Honor your own needs and feelings. Be kind to yourself. Stop judging yourself. Set some powerful boundaries to protect your time and energy. Become your own cheerleader. Listen to your own intuition.
3. Change your priorities. You come first, everything else comes after. Choose yourself. Make your own wellbeing a priority. Put yourself first when you can. Make yourself important in your own life. Stop people pleasing. You matter!
When you start following the path of self-love you will start showing up differently in your life and your relationships.
Know who you are.
Know your needs. Know your desires. Know your dreams. Know your values. Know your priorities. Know yourself basically. This knowledge will prevent you from compromising too much in a relationship. Your strong sense of self will help you stick to what is truly important to you. This will give you a sense of security, which comes from within and not from your relationship.
I have two little exercises that will help you get to know and understand yourself and your needs better.
1. Create a list of your current needs. Grab a piece of paper and create four columns. Title each column: emotional, mental, physical, and spiritual. Take your time and explore what you need in these four categories to feel fulfilled.
2. Write down your top five to ten priorities. These are the things that are important to you that you’d like to focus on right now. List them in order of importance.
These exercises will give you a stronger direction in life and help you explore what is truly important to you. It makes sense to revisit them occasionally, since things will likely change over time. Your needs will be different a few months down the line. Your priorities will be different, as we are always growing and evolving. The goal isn’t to define yourself in rigid terms, but to understand what you need and want at this point in your life.
Have strong boundaries.
Know your non-negotiables in relationships. Things you won’t tolerate. Things you don’t want to compromise on. Things you don’t want in your relationship. And communicate them so your partner knows and respects your limits.
Healthy boundaries will make you feel stronger and more empowered in your next relationship. If you don’t honor your boundaries, you will feel exhausted, overwhelmed, and drained. Healthy boundaries prevent you from losing yourself in love.
Have your own friends.
It’s very easy to get infatuated in a new relationship, get all loved up and forget about the whole world outside. As much as it’s a natural part of every new relationship, don’t forget about your friends. Schedule regular time with them. They’ve been your rock and a sounding board many times, and can be now as well. Don’t limit your life just to your new partner. You need some other perspective.
Have your own life.
Just because you are in a relationship that doesn’t mean you need to give up the things you love doing—even if you feel tempted, especially at the beginning when things are exciting, and you want to spend as much time with the person as possible. It’s important to maintain your normal routine as you can.
Make time for the things you love doing. Make them your priority because they contribute to your happiness, so they are just as important as your relationship. Keep some hobbies you only do on your own or with people other than your partner. Plan some time every week when you do things separately. Schedule solo dates. Cultivate a spiritual practice. Stick to your exercise routine.
Doing things on your own will help you stay connected to yourself and cultivate a sense of self. It will also keep your relationship fresh. No relationship can fulfill all your needs and desires. That is why you need different things in your life, apart from your relationship, to keep you growing and expanding in new directions. Also, the time you spend on your own will help you nurture the relationship with yourself and keep your independence.
Stay true to yourself.
Don’t suddenly change who you are for someone else. For example, don’t suddenly pretend you’re a football lover just because your boyfriend likes football or don’t force yourself to do shopping with your girlfriend just to please her. Be honest with yourself and communicate what you like and what you don’t with your partner.
Also, make some independent decisions. You don’t need to consult your partner about every single decision. Express your opinions. Share your thoughts. Speak your mind. Tell them how you feel. All of these will help your partner to understand you better.
Communicate openly.
Talk about how you feel. Talk about what isn’t working for you. Talk about what you like and dislike. Even tell your new partner that you are afraid of losing yourself in the relationship again. I did and my partner supported me in trying to maintain my own identity. Honest and open communication will only bring your closer. You can only improve a relationship when you know what is not working. So, talk openly!
Stop the over giving and accommodating.
Over giving usually comes from not seeing your own value and seeking approval. We believe the more we give, the more love we will get back from our partner. Unfortunately, it doesn’t work like that. In the long run, it is a sure way to increase resentment and feel taken for granted. And resentment is one of the factors that determines the happiness and longevity of the relationship. So, when you over give, you don’t only risk losing yourself in the relationship but also losing the relationship.
—
Reflect back on your relationships. How you felt, how you compromised, how you betrayed yourself. Our previous relationships can give us a huge amount of knowledge about ourselves. So, look at the mistakes you have made in the past and learn from them.
Decide what you don’t want to repeat and what you want to do differently in your next relationship. Commit to staying strong and true to yourself. Set the rules which you are going to follow once you meet someone—you can use the ones I created for myself or create your own!
Healthy relationships are created by two strong and complete individuals who can exist without each other.
Healthy relationships are free of co-dependency.
Healthy relationships start from a healthy relationship with yourself. The stronger your relationship with yourself, the lesser the possibility that you will lose the sense of self in your next relationship.
You can build strong foundations now by getting to know yourself, exploring life on your own, and establishing habits which make you happy.
When you feel strong within and when you meet the right person, you will stay grounded throughout the first phase of dating and have a better judgment.
You will keep a strong identity, make better romantic choices, and avoid heartache.
