Tag: wisdom
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Do What Excites You: How to Push Through Fear & Make Bold Choices
“You’ve got to do things that feel unnatural if you want to grow.” ~Jon Morrow
“You’re leaving, aren’t you?” my boss said.
“Yes,” I nodded.
“What do I have to pay you to make you stay?” he asked.
I just stared at him. No words would come.
“There’s nothing I can do, is there?” he said.
More silence. But my inner voice was anything but silent. I was consumed with doubt and deafened by the bloody battle raging inside my head.
On one side was caution, armed with the strong, fight-to-the-death breed of soldier. Her battalion was fuelled by countless victories over the dozens of glorious ideas that had fallen on their swords before.
On the other side was courage, armed with nothing but hope and crazy determination. There was no battalion. Only a thin veneer of pluck.
Courage won. Only just.
I could have balked at any moment, backed down from my insane plan and taken the easy way out. I could have taken the lucrative job at one of London’s top investment banks that was being offered to me on a silver platter.
But my gut screamed, “No, you’ve got to go! You’ll never find what you’re searching for if you stay.”
Days later, as the plane touched down in the Russian capital, my breath caught in my throat.
A lone, skinny, baby-faced blonde with a crazy notion to catch the train across Siberia.
What the hell was I doing? Caution had stowed away in the recesses of my mind and now screamed in my ear.
Was I mad? Probably. Was I terrified? Definitely. Was I excited? Out of my skin.
Looking back, I believe courage won the battle that day because it was backed by my overwhelming desire for discovery. I wanted to discover the world and my rightful place in it.
And the reason it won? Because I listened to my subconscious mind.
The subconscious mind is the feeling mind. Its ancient roots are primitive, and it’s the home of emotions such as fear, anger, and desire. The subconscious is powerful and tireless. Within it, both my fears and desires became formidable forces. But desire was stronger.
The subconscious’s nemesis, the conscious mind, driven by logic, reason, and foresight, showed its face in the battle that day as caution and attempted to derail my desire.
But it’s a fundamental truth that whenever the two minds are in conflict, the subconscious always wins. Deep emotional feelings overpower reasoned thought every time.
Deep inside my subconscious mind, I knew I was searching for something I could only find by pushing myself to my limits.
I knew I’d never find it if I continued with my dreary job. I knew that if I’d not found it in my current life already, it wasn’t there. I knew I needed to look someplace else.
I knew I had no choice but to go.
So I went. Here’s what I discovered on my journey.
Discovery #1: Fear works in two ways: it will make you run or it will paralyze you.
Fear is a curious beast. It manifests itself differently in everybody, but the result is always the same – you fight like heck or you run as fast as you can. But you can’t run or escape a mental threat, so escape becomes paralysis. You escape through inaction. By avoiding the decision itself.
I experienced both impulses, avoiding and fighting, that day. Terrified by what lay ahead, I nearly caved and said “yes, I’ll stay,” as it was the easiest way to flee my crazy idea. But my fight response kicked in, fuelling my swift and steadfast decision to go.
Discovery #2: For every decision you make, caution will present hundreds of safer alternatives.
Successful life decisions are all born as “what ifs.”
It’s easy to be confused by the volume of possibility and the memories of past choices, and miss the best decision.
Sure, I could have decided to take the banking job and make lots of money. I could have decided to build a great career with the help of a strong advocate. I could have decided to remain in the U.K. long enough to secure citizenship that would open doors in my future.
But the strongest and best decision for me was to leave. Because when I fought through the waves of fear and listened to my deepest desires, going on this journey felt right. The prospect filled me with the most glorious excitement out of all the possible outcomes.
Discovery #3: You’re sharply aware of every door you close but blind to all the doors you could open.
It’s true. Hindsight is a beautiful thing. The trouble is that it shadows our foresight. I could clearly see every door I was closing that day. Each opportunity reared its stubborn head as I slammed the door in its face.
But when it came to my future, I was blindfolded.
None of us have a script for what lies ahead, but we all have a critical role to play in casting the characters and choosing the scenes.
I chose to be a bold, fearless character that day. I wrote the opening scene and stepped through the door.
Discovery #4: Every fear conquered today makes tomorrow easier.
Life isn’t always easy. In fact, it’s damned brutal sometimes. But every battle you face makes you stronger. You’re better equipped to deal with the next inevitable blow you face.
I faced my fear that day, and in the days that followed. The moment I stepped onto the airport tarmac with my heart in my throat, I wanted to run. The moment I arrived at the crowded train station, feeling confused by the language and scared by the strange faces, I wanted to run. The moment the train shuddered to life and began its fourteen-day journey across Siberia, I wanted to pull the emergency break and run.
But I stayed. My resolve had been fortified by my hard-won battles of yesterday.
Discovery #5: The only wrong decision is the one you don’t learn from.
Everybody’s afraid of making the wrong decision. We’re all afraid of consequences we might not foresee.
So how do you know if you’re making the right decision? You don’t. I believe no decision is the wrong one unless you fail to learn from it, whatever the outcome.
If you’re stuck and can’t make a decision, change your view. Take yourself somewhere quiet and think through your options, taking note of how you feel during each moment. The answers are there.
Why my triumphs can be yours too.
My decisions, fears, and triumphs aren’t so unique. Everyone experiences them. You experience them.
Sure, I took the train across Siberia on my own. Not everyone does that. But you can catch your own train.
Your train can go to a safe, predictable destination. And that’s just fine if it’s what makes you feel good deep down.
But your train can also go somewhere uncharted.
It can go through the door to life-changing self-discovery.
Self-discovery that can only be fast-tracked with a bold, insane-feeling decision.
A decision that will sit high atop a mountain of arguments and alternatives.
A decision that will wear the scars of the fight it had with caution, fear, and desire.
But if you think about it long enough, and listen to your subconscious mind, its power will win the fight.
And you’ll be the one writing your life script.
That’s what I chose. Will you?
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To Fully Heal Your Broken Heart, Make Sure You Do This
“Grief is healthy and it is healing.” ~Richard Moss
When I was a little girl there was this belief floating around in my head that there was only one person. One person who was my soulmate. One person who could love me. I think the belief was formed by some concoction of Disney movies, religion, and American culture.
What’s worse than this belief is that I somehow found myself afraid that I wouldn’t even have one person. I was afraid I would be alone. Forever.
I don’t know when I adopted the belief that I wasn’t enough, that I might not find someone, that I was unlovable. My mom did her best to reassure me, but it didn’t quite do the trick.
Self-love is the work we have to do ourselves. No one else can give us that gift, no matter how young we happen to be.
Into my third decade of life I did the deep work that led me to discover what it actually meant to love myself. My life transformed in so many incredible ways, and then I no longer worried about whether there was someone out there who would love me. I knew I was lovable, and by more than one person.
At some later point I met a man. I liked him, but there were some red flags. He was a bit flaky, and he lacked the ability to communicate maturely. I was about to walk away, and then suddenly everything changed. The red flags turned green, and we pranced off into the moonlight.
That red lack-of-communication flag never really turned green. Nothing had actually changed. He just hid who he really was until he felt suffocated and invisible. After almost a year of living like this he left me with no warning.
For a long time I felt so much pain that my entire being melted into sorrow. I fell into a deep depression and reached out to a spiritual teacher who wrote me this:
Please do not indulge any thought that attacks yourself or even your ex-boyfriend. Grief is healthy and it is healing.
I wrote back to this teacher that I wasn’t indulging in negative thoughts, that the pain was so overwhelming that I felt no anger, just the deepest sadness I’d ever felt.
I spent a lot of time in bed feeling my pain, crying, and thinking. This was a man who I was building a life with. This was a man I opened my whole heart to. This man showed me love and support like I’d never experienced before. And then he swiftly took it all away. As I lay in bed for days with a churning mind the stories began to surface in whispers:
See, I am unlovable. He didn’t think I was worth loving. I’m not enough.
And the stories grew louder.
“Please do not indulge any thought that attacks yourself.”
The stories we tell ourselves that deny the essence of who we are may be so deeply rooted that we’re unconscious of their presence. I was attacking myself. Each time I allowed these beliefs to hold an ounce of truth I was attacking myself.
So I worked on loving myself instead. I worked on seeing the truth of who I was in each moment. The truth I found was this: I am worth loving. I am enough. I am lovable. I am beautiful. I am whole. All of this is true right now, in every single moment I am living.
A few months into my grief, the anger began to surface, and I started to vilify him. I was tired of feeling the pain, so my mind created stories about him to make me feel better. I told myself he was incapable of loving me, that he couldn’t allow me to be fully me. I thought about how he was a selfish person for treating me the way he did.
“Please do not indulge any thought that attacks yourself or even your ex-boyfriend.”
My teacher was right. Those stories didn’t do my ex justice. They didn’t honor the time we shared together. And they didn’t actually serve me. They were a weak tool to help me avoid my pain.
The truth is simply that he wasn’t my person anymore. And that didn’t make him wrong. It didn’t make him bad. I didn’t have to turn him into a villain to heal my wounds. I didn’t have to diminish my pain or justify his actions. I could simply allow for the pain and allow for the healing.
“Grief is healthy and it is healing.”
That breakup took me down, down, down. It made me forget who I am so I could find myself again. It was the greatest gift I have been given in a very long time, and it took me many months to recognize the gift at all.
Grief is healthy and it is healing. I didn’t need to make up stories to ease my pain because the more I hid from it the more it had a hold on me. Instead, I chose to let the pain wash over me. I allowed it to teach me. That’s how grief can become a gift.
We don’t need to hold on to old lovers, torturing ourselves with “what-ifs” that don’t serve us.
We don’t need to condemn ourselves for being imperfect, for being too much, for not doing all the right things.
And we don’t need to denigrate the people we have loved because they hurt us.
I have never been more confident that I will have an incredible partner in life one day. You can too. But first you have to let go of that story, whether you’ve adopted it as a child or created it to feel less pain as an adult. Stop shrinking yourself down because you won’t let go.
Allow for the grief so you can begin to truly heal. Through healing you will grow more fully into yourself, and from that place you will discover the truth. Release the burdens of storytelling. You don’t actually need them. You are strong enough to heal on your own.
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4 Things I’d Say to My Anxiety-Filled Younger Self
“I vow to let go of all worries and anxiety in order to be light and free.” ~Thich Nhat Hanh
As I sit here writing this, I’m just a couple of days away from my twenty-eighth birthday.
It’s been a whole decade since an introverted, shy version of me turned eighteen years old and entered into the realms of what many people consider to be “adult age.”
Back then, anxiety, specifically social anxiety, plagued me.
At the time, however, I’d never even heard of anxiety, let alone considered that I may be suffering with this thing that could be termed a “mental illness.” Truth be told, I just thought I was a bit weird.
I thought it was just who I was. And that the uncontrollable sweating whenever I left the house, the monumental nervousness before having to go into any social situation, the sick feeling before making any phone call, and the continual worry of what might happen in the future was just an annoying part of me that I’d have to live with for the rest of my life.
The decade that followed, though, brought some huge life lessons. I graduated from college, got my first full-time job, left said job, started several businesses (failing at most), became obsessed with health, nutrition, and fitness, met the love of my life, and traveled to various parts of the world.
But around eighteen months ago, I left the personal training business I was miserable in and became obsessed with spirituality, personal development, and understanding my own brain.
I wanted to know why I’d been on this journey so far, yet still felt completely worthless as a human being and filled with panic about what people thought of me or what might happen in the future.
It was during this time I did monumental amounts of reading, inward reflection, and deep inner work in order to truly get to know what was going on inside of me. I got to understand who I was and connect with myself at a level I didn’t previously think was possible.
So as I sit here now, ten years on from my eighteenth birthday, I’d like to share four things I’ve learned over the past decade and would want to say to that anxiety-ridden, nervous, and severely introverted version of myself if I ever got the chance.
1. Be unashamedly all of you.
Part of the reason I was feeling all this anxiety and emptiness inside was that I had this belief that I somehow needed to be more than who I was. Like I wasn’t good enough as me in any present moment, and so I needed to add on external things in an attempt to bridge that gap.
Deep down, at a subconscious level, I felt that I wasn’t worthy of love or attention without chasing all this stuff that was outside of myself. The degree, the job, the business, the pay bracket.
As I attached my entire worth as a person to all this external stuff, I created a world full of anxiety for myself.
I got anxious about having to converse with people, for fear they would figure me out as a fraud or someone who didn’t have everything together. And my desperate looking to the future for a time when I did have it all together would cause regular panic when something even slightly compromised my ability to get there.
The irony here is that by never feeling “enough” or “worthy” and trying to gain these external things in order to be more than I was, I was actually shrinking my real self.
The real me wasn’t showing up in the world, and I was holding myself back from everyone and everything. Bringing just a miniscule percentage of the greatest version of myself into every situation and moment. And that’s just not fair to me, or the world.
So the first thing I would say to my eighteen-year-old self is to stop trying to be more than you are, and just unashamedly be all that you are at any given moment.
2. You get to create yourself.
One of my greatest fears as an eighteen-year-old, and for a good number of years following, was that I would be this incredibly shy and anxious person for the rest of my life.
In fact, I don’t suppose it was really a fear at the time. More a simple acceptance and frustration at the fact that I’d been dealt this hand of someone who always had a knot in his stomach, struggled to hold conversations, and was perennially labelled “the quiet one.”
If I’m honest, it caused me to really dislike and become irritated with myself. It was overwhelmingly frustrating to see other people make their way into social circles and progress in life seemingly with relative ease. Yet here I was, having to calm down and prepare myself for the simple act of making a phone call to book a dentist’s appointment.
This all just became a part of my identity, just who I thought I was and a part of me I assumed I just had to live with.
At some point along the way, though, I came to the realization that I was choosing to keep this social anxiety as a part of my identity. Maybe not on a conscious level, but certainly on a subconscious one.
I discovered that by facing up to what was going on inside my anxious head, no longer trying to push it away and suppress it, and challenging the negative thoughts floating around, I could create a blank slate of sorts, to assume an identity without all the anxiety.
In short, a person’s past does not need to dictate their present or the future. There is no “hand” we have been dealt. And so we get to create and choose into who we want to be in any given moment or phase of our lives.
3. Life doesn’t have to look a certain way.
For so long, I had this grandiose illusion that everything had to look a specific way.
I believed the “correct” path in life, whatever that meant, was already there for me, and if I veered from it, something terrible would happen. In my mind, everything was filled with “should” and “should nots” around what life was supposed to look like.
I should have a good schooling, a degree, get a good job, behave this way, do this, do that; it’s bad to do this, it’s good to do that; I should fall in line with everyone else.
Of course, I’m not saying we should go against the grain all the time. There are some aspects in life where it’s probably a good idea to fall in line. The concepts of not judging people by the color of their skin or not being a serial killer are pretty good examples.
But to just accept that everything needs to look the way society, the media, a religion, teachers, school, or even your parents tells us is not necessarily serving us best.
All this did for me was create anxiety. I had a path in my mind, and if anything threatened me falling off that path then, in my head, I would be castigated from society, nobody would love me, and my whole world would cave in.
It was as if I was constantly on the lookout for things that could move me away from how things should look. The result was being in an almost perpetual internal state of worry, panic, and dread.
But why do things have to look a certain way? Just because a direction, path, or way of thinking worked for one person, doesn’t mean it will for anyone else.
This is when I realized it was perfectly okay to challenge convention. To investigate different ways of thinking without the whole world judging me and everything falling apart. And that it was perfectly healthy, even necessary, to figure out my own path.
4. Learn to love the darkness.
This was something that took me a while to truly understand and accept. But when I did, it created a monumental amount of inner healing and peacefulness.
We all have dark parts of our past. Some maybe have darker parts than others, but that doesn’t make them any more or less valid.
For a long time I wished those dark parts weren’t there. I would look into my past and feel frustration and resentment for those dark parts that caused so much pain.
I’d look into this darkness and think about how it shouldn’t be there. That it was wrong and bad it existed, and because it did, I would be judged if anyone found out; therefore, I wasn’t worthy of being happy.
In reality, every moment in my life, the good and the bad, was part of a vast sequence of events that led me to this very moment. We need the darkness in order to experience light, up to experience down, and sadness to experience joy. Without one, the other cannot exist.
Of course, deep wounds take time to heal. I’m not saying we should all be able to click our fingers and instantly love every aspect of the past, regardless of how traumatic or painful.
But opening up to the idea of letting go of resentment and frustration, and appreciating dark moments in the past for what they really are, is such a powerful step. They don’t define us, and they don’t need dictate who we are. They have given us the opportunity to harness this very moment and unleash the amazing things that are inside us on the unsuspecting world.
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What would you tell your younger self if you had the chance to speak with them?
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How to Improve Your Work/Life Balance and Reclaim Your Time
“You will never feel truly satisfied by work until you are satisfied by life.” ~Heather Schuck
When I was two years old, my parents got divorced.
In other words, I’ve never seen my biological parents spending loving time with each other. I never had the chance to experience the small things most children take for granted.
For example…
- I don’t remember my mom and dad ever sharing a loving kiss after a long day at work
- I don’t remember ever having both parents around to tuck me in at night
- And I never overheard simple “how was your day?” conversations between my parents in the kitchen
As a kid who didn’t know any different, I thought this was normal. I’d stay with my mom during the week and visit my dad on the weekends. No big deal, that was that.
Looking back, I’m lucky that even though my biological parents were separated, both my parents loved me unconditionally, and supported me whenever I needed it. (And I’m happy to say they still do!)
But, truthfully, the reason for the divorce still saddens me to this day.
The primary reason my parents divorced is because my father was a workaholic.
Because I’m expecting to be a first-time father myself in a few months, “workaholic” is a word that’s at the top of my mind. I’ve thought deeply about how to avoid being labeled a workaholic, especially in today’s world where being a workaholic is synonymous with success.
The biggest question I’ve asked myself recently is, “Should I spend more time with family or should I focus more on my career?”
But, as I’ve thought about it more, I realized that’s the close-minded, dualistic way of looking at things. My shift in mindset from an “either/or” to a “how can I be creative to incorporate both?” has been the first step.
And, as I’ve continued to grow and reframe my limiting beliefs, there have been a few more realizations about maintaining a work-life balance. Here’s what I’m learning.
Making My Time on This Planet Count the Most
No matter how I slice it, I only have twenty-four hours in my day.
In the past, I’ve naturally gravitated toward being as efficient as possible during work hours and doing everything myself. This approach has been supported by an endless amount of tactics to maximize my productivity during the day—tactics that, if I’m being honest, only marginally approve my efficiency.
Efficiency only carries us so far. Even if we’re the most productive person the world, we have a limit to the energy we can spend and a limit on our output.
As I’ve learned, focusing entirely on efficiency and trying to do everything is the wrong approach.
In reality, the people who have figured out how to integrate their family and professional success have done one thing very well: letting go.
Caring for Ourselves Means Saying No
One of my idols, Warren Buffett once said, “The difference between successful people and really successful people is that really successful people say ‘no’ to almost everything.”
A couple of years ago, I had reached out to a mentor of mine asking him for advice. He was a highly respected, gregarious person and was pivotal in my early career.
And even though we had an established relationship, he told me, “No, I can’t meet then. Evenings are reserved for my wife and daughter.”
I was blown away. It stung a little, but after a bit I realized his “no” made me respect him even more.
Instead of talking in the evening, he had asked me to call him in the morning, or to email my questions and he would get back to me within a couple of hours. He defined his boundaries and “let go” of having to please me (and sacrifice time with his wife and kids).
In another example, Caryn Seidman Becker, the chairman and CEO of CLEAR, said: “You can have it all, but each person needs to define their personal ‘all’ because you can’t have everything.”
For my mentor, having it “all” meant saying “no” so he could have a successful career during the day and cherished family time in the evening. He knows his time is limited, and reduces his obligations to the core of what he wants to accomplish.
“Letting go” Also Means Letting Other People Help
One of my favorite theories is the law of diminishing returns. Sometimes, this shows up when I work more than fifty hours at my day job and seeing my output decline. Other times, when I say “yes” to too many people and can’t spend quality time with my family.
In other words, when I reach a point where the benefit gained is less than the amount of energy invested, it means I’m doing too much.
At a certain point for all of us, we need to stop exerting effort to maintain our balance, health, and important relationships, even if it means we’ll stop short of perfection.
When we understand the law of diminishing returns we favor progress and learning over perfection.
The metric for balance varies too. Sometimes the optimal level of effort is when we’ve achieved “good enough” on a project at work, which allows us to focus our energy on family. Or, other times, it’s achieving “good enough” with family so we can focus more energy on a massive project we’re excited about at work.
And once you know what your “good enough” is, you have the ability to ask others to support you so you can free up time and energy for more important things. Whether it’s hiring someone to help you grow a business, having your laundry done for you, or even getting someone to come change the oil on your car at work so you don’t have to waste time driving around.
It’s important to note the goal isn’t laziness—it’s effectiveness. For example, there might be times when we have to put in extra hours to get the job done. The differentiating factor is recognizing when to do something ourselves, and when to delegate.
The Power of Using Deadlines
Have you ever noticed the power of deadlines?
In college, when I had professors set a project deadline, I knew it had to get done. I could cram all I wanted the night before, but no matter what it needed to be finished on the due date. On the other hand, when I have something I need to do “eventually” it gets pushed off…again…and again…and again.
When we use deadlines strategically, we’re following Parkinson’s Law. Here’s an excerpt from Tim Ferriss’ 4-Hour Body on what the Law means:
“Parkinson’s Law dictates that a task will swell in (perceived) importance and complexity in relation to the time allotted for it’s completion. It is the magic of the imminent deadline. If I give you 24 hours to complete a project, the time pressure forces you to focus on execution, and you have no choice but to do only the bare essentials. I give you a week to complete the same task, it’s six days of making a mountain out of a molehill. If I give you two months, God forbid, it becomes a mental monster. The end product of a shorter deadline is almost inevitably of equal or higher quality due to greater focus.”
In short, Parkinson’s Law pushes us to take action and focus exclusively on the most important items, and nothing is wasted.
And when we use Parkinson’s Law (or ask for help, or say “no”) we’re making sure to spend our energy and time in the places that matter the most to us.
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What to Do When Your Partner Won’t Work on Your Relationship
“It takes two to manage the relationship, but it takes one to begin the change.” ~Sheri E. Ragland
So, your significant other doesn’t understand you. In fact you’re not even sure if they hear you. Despite trying to talk about things or take a break from each other, you end up arguing about the same thing over and over again.
You try this and you try that. You back away, you move in. You break up, you get back together. You try everything you can think of, and nothing is working, but you don’t want to end the relationship.
You finally realize that no matter what you two do, you eventually find your way back to the same conflict, repeating the same dance again and again and again. Nothing seems to ever change.
So, you get excited when you finally figure out what you need to do—couples counseling! Relief floods you, confident now that couples counseling will save this relationship! And so, you announce to your other half, “We need couples counseling.”
But alas, like a punch to your gut, your partner has no interest in couples counseling and refuses to go. Barely able to breathe, you know your relationship is really at an impasse and you are hopeless to know how to fix it. It is certainly doomed if you don’t get the counseling you both need.
I know the feeling. In fact, my car was packed at least once, and I was sure I was finally going to leave.
Thank goodness I didn’t.
Did you ever hear the old adage, “I married my mother” or “I married my father”? There is truth to this statement. Despite our inability to recognize it, we do often marry or partner with someone like our mother or our father.
And I am going to tell you why.
First and foremost, it’s familiar. We’re attracted to what we know. Secondly and most importantly, we marry or partner with someone like our mother or our father in an unconscious attempt at resolving old conflicts and feelings left over from those original and significant early relationships.
Read that again: We marry or partner with someone like our mother or our father in an unconscious attempt at resolving old conflicts and feelings left over from those original and significant early relationships.
That’s a lot to mull over, for sure.
Never underestimate the impact your childhood experience had on your life. Never underestimate the impact your relationship or lack thereof, with your mother and father had on your life. Even absent parents can have an immeasurable impact.
They were the mirror through which you learned to see yourself. If, more often than not, you had a positive, encouraging, supportive mirror, you likely grew up with healthy self-esteem. If that mirror was more often than not, judgmental, critical, unsupportive, or disinterested, then your self-worth is likely at the lower end of healthy.
Think about it. Those relationships, or lack of, sent you multitudes of unspoken messages.
The question is: What are the messages you took in and how are they affecting your current relationship?
I grew up in a male-dominated household and religion. It was not until I was an adult that I recognized that I believed men were more important than women. No one ever said that to me, but that was how I interpreted the male-dominated environments that gave little to no voice to women.
As a result, I rarely spoke up, remaining hidden. I found myself in unhealthy and unsatisfying relationships where I allowed men to dominate me. I never fully showed up as a valuable and integral part of the relationship I was in.
This is one of the ways that our past follows us into the present, inviting us to grow and learn beyond what childhood taught us. Figuring out how to navigate our emotional world and our relationships is paramount to this process. Hence, a not so peaceful, sometimes antagonizing relationship with the one you love can be the invitation you need.
So, s/he won’t accompany you to couples counseling. What to do??
Go yourself.
The change we want in our world, always starts with ourselves.
Now don’t get me wrong, I get it. If only s/he would [fill in the blank] it would all be okay. If s/he would stop [fill in the blank], I would be just fine. I just need him/her to [fill in the blank] and we’d be happy. And so it goes.
Every relationship has a dance. You do this and s/he does that. S/he does that and you do this. That would be the repeating pattern that has you going around and around and around, never resolving a thing.
You are both trying to convince the other of why you are right. That is a lose-lose situation.
When you can both recognize that this is not necessarily a right-wrong situation, both having valid points, you might find your way to a win-win situation.
If one partner changes their steps, breaking out of the old pattern, the other has three choices:
1. They can, and often do, do everything in their power to get you back into the dance steps you are both familiar with. Don’t let them suck you in. If you don’t they will be left with two choices:
2. They can leave altogether.
3. Their other choice is to change their dance to get in step with yours.
I understand, dear heart. This is hard and it is risky. Truly I do understand, because I’ve been there. If my spouse would just behave the way I want him to and treat me the way I think he should, then life would be perfect. We could just forget this whole dance thing.
In other words, if he molds himself to meet my needs, I won’t have to be disturbed or expected to take care of my own needs. Ah, wouldn’t that be nice?!
Maybe, not likely, but unrealistic, nonetheless.
So, I finally got into therapy. Alone.
Best decision I ever made. (Other than marrying my husband.)
It was hard work. Grueling at times. I had to unearth my childhood experience to finally understand I was expecting my husband to meet the needs that my parents had been unable to meet.
I was demanding. I wanted him to be interested all the time. Drop what he was doing when I needed him. I was irritable. I expected him to know what I needed without my telling him. I wanted him to coddle me and sympathize with my struggles.
I didn’t want a husband. I wanted a parent.
At some point in my therapy, I said, “If I had known then what I know now, I would have never married my husband.”
I have since said, “Thank God I didn’t know!”
I began to heal old wounds. My therapist became the surrogate parent who put a new mirror in front of me. This one showed me my strength, my ability, my heart. I began to realize I was capable and strong.
My moods stabilized. Depression lifted. Anxiety subsided.
I learned to listen to myself the way my therapist did. I learned to have compassion for myself the way my therapist did. I learned to love myself the way my therapist did. That was the mirror I needed—one that showed me my value, equal to that of anyone else.
Having done so, without even realizing it was happening, I stopped looking for my husband to parent me. I didn’t need him to. I was now doing it for myself. I began to see him more clearly, realizing how present and steadfast he had always been.
As I stopped putting demands on him, and accepted him just the way he was, he became more available to me. Our relationship improved. Tremendously.
As my steps changed, he changed his own and we found a healthier dance.
Now, I am not going to tell you that your outcome will be the same as mine. It may not be. You may get healthy enough to realize you don’t want the relationship anymore and you will then be able to take the appropriate steps to do what you need to do.
S/he may leave. Then you may have to grieve what the relationship never was to begin with. If things aren’t working as they are, then maybe you have less to lose than you think and fear is getting in the way.
Facing your fears, and delving in to your own insecurities, distorted beliefs, and unhappiness provides the opportunity to be free from emotional dependence on another person.
And that is a good thing.
That is a very, very good thing.
Don’t wait for someone else to get on board before you do what is best for you. Love yourself first and the rest will follow.
