Tag: wisdom

  • “Am I the Narcissist?” How to Tell If It’s You

    “Am I the Narcissist?” How to Tell If It’s You

    “Narcissism is voluntary blindness, an agreement not to look beneath the surface.” ~Sam Keen

    Have you ever found yourself wondering, “Am I the narcissist in this relationship?” If so, you’re not alone. This question can feel heavy and unsettling, especially if you’ve spent years tangled in a toxic dynamic. The more you try to figure things out, the more confusing it becomes.

    But here’s something to hold onto: The very fact that you’re asking this question is a sign that you probably aren’t narcissistic.

    Am I the Narcissist?

    Victims of narcissistic abuse often find themselves questioning their actions, replaying conversations, and overanalyzing their behavior. Meanwhile, the real narcissist rarely, if ever, stops to consider whether they might be at fault.

    Why? Because self-reflection is not in their nature. Narcissists are too wrapped up in protecting their fragile egos and carefully crafted personas to even entertain the idea that they might be the problem.

    So, if you’ve been second-guessing yourself, it’s time to stop. The very act of self-reflection shows that you’re capable of empathy and accountability—two traits a true narcissist lacks.

    My Story

    Throughout our thirty-year marriage, my ex-husband would, out of nowhere, accuse me of cheating. It was absurd. I wasn’t cheating—never had, never would. But time and again, he’d cast doubt on my every move, picking apart my behavior as if it were proof of something sinister. Each confrontation left me baffled. I wasn’t having an affair—I didn’t even have the time or energy for that!

    So why would the man I loved constantly question my loyalty?

    I convinced myself it had to be my fault. Maybe I wasn’t doing enough as a wife, and that’s why he felt so insecure, so suspicious of me.

    At the time, I had no idea I was married to a narcissist. I didn’t understand how narcissists operate, or how they twist reality. More importantly, I didn’t realize how they manipulate you into believing that you’re the problem, not them.

    “Mirror, Mirror on the Wall… Am I Perfect After All?”

    Narcissists have their own version of the enchanted mirror from Snow White—only, instead of seeking the truth, their mirror feeds them the comforting lie they desperately want to hear: “You’re perfect, flawless, and never at fault.”

    This is where narcissistic behavior thrives. While you’re stuck analyzing your every move, they’re busy basking in the reflection of their own grandiosity.

    More Than Being Self-Centered

    Narcissistic Personality Disorder (NPD) isn’t just about someone being self-centered. It’s a deep-rooted personality disorder defined by traits like an inflated sense of self-importance, a desperate need for admiration, and a shocking lack of empathy. Narcissists wear masks of confidence, but underneath, they’re terrified of facing any feelings of inadequacy.

    So why don’t they ask, “Am I the narcissist?”

    They Can’t Handle the Truth

    The truth is, they can’t handle the answer. Their egos are protected by layers of defense mechanisms—denial, projection, and a refusal to accept responsibility. Admitting they might be flawed would shatter the fragile image they’ve built, and that’s not something a narcissist is willing to risk.

    Meanwhile, people like you—who have empathy and care deeply about relationships—are naturally prone to self-reflection. You take accountability for your actions and genuinely want to improve, which is exactly why you’re asking yourself tough questions. And while you’re busy looking in the mirror wondering what you can do better, the narcissist? Well, they’ve already convinced themselves they’re the fairest of them all.

    A Truth Revealed

    Eventually, I uncovered the ugly truth—my ex-husband wasn’t just accusing me out of insecurity; he was projecting his own guilt. He had cheated on me—multiple times. In fact, over fifty times.

    In his twisted logic, he’d convinced himself that if he could pin an affair on me, it would somehow clear his conscience. But when his accusations didn’t stick, he switched tactics, offering up three audacious claims:

    1. His cheating was my fault because I didn’t satisfy him.

    2. I should be grateful he “only” cheated physically, and never emotionally.

    3. I needed to stay quiet about it because everyone would just blame me anyway (he was just looking out for me, of course).

    What didn’t I hear? An apology. Not even close.

    Instead, I was bombarded with deflections, denials, and outright lies.

    He tried to flip the narrative—suddenly, I was the bad guy. According to him, I was the narcissist because I couldn’t see how “wonderful” he was. I was being stubborn for staying angry when forgiveness, in his eyes, was the obvious solution. And his lies? They were all to protect me because, of course, he was such a “great” person.

    Classic narcissist move.

    The Narcissist’s Tactics: Dodging Responsibility Like a Pro

    Narcissists are experts at shifting the blame, turning the tables, and making you question your reality. When things start to fall apart, they’ll do anything to avoid being the “bad guy,” and instead, they’ll paint you as the problem. Let’s break down some of their go-to tactics:

    Projection: “You’re the one who’s selfish!”

    Narcissists often accuse you of the very behavior they’re guilty of. It’s called projection, and it works to distract you from their faults while making you feel responsible. You might hear things like:

    • “You’re so controlling!”
    • “All you care about is yourself!”
    • “You’re the one who’s toxic, not me!”

    This clever tactic puts you on the defensive, and before you know it, you’re questioning your own behavior instead of seeing theirs for what it is.

    My narcissist projected his own guilt onto me, twisting reality to fit his narrative. He even had the audacity to “forgive” me—just in case I had cheated and wasn’t confessing to it. In his mind, he was the noble one, magnanimously overlooking my imagined sins, while I was painted as the villain. He created an alternate reality where he was the hero and I was the problem.

    Blame Shifting: “I wouldn’t act this way if you didn’t push me!”

    Blame shifting is another favorite tool. Narcissists twist situations to make their reactions seem like your fault. They’ll say things like:

    • “If you didn’t make me so mad, I wouldn’t have yelled.”
    • “I only lied because you wouldn’t understand.”
    • “You always make me act this way.”

    By blaming you for their behavior, they avoid taking responsibility and leave you feeling guilty for things you didn’t cause. Narcissists blur the lines between what’s right and wrong, often making you feel like you can’t do anything right.

    My ex-husband didn’t just blame me for his cheating—he actually tried to twist the situation so he could get praise for his behavior.

    During therapy, we uncovered that he was addicted to porn, and that addiction warped his entire view of what a healthy relationship should look like. Once the label of “addict” was slapped on him, he leaned into it, casting himself as the real victim and expecting me to be more understanding and accepting of his choices.

    Even now, he refuses to take any responsibility. Instead, he continues to shift the blame onto me, parading his addiction as an excuse while claiming victimhood.

    Emotional Manipulation: “You’re the reason this relationship is falling apart.”

    Narcissists love to emotionally manipulate you into feeling like you’re responsible for every problem in the relationship. They’ll use guilt and shame to keep you doubting yourself. Expect phrases like:

    • “I’m trying my best, but you keep ruining everything.”
    • “This is all on you. I’ve done nothing wrong.”
    • “If you don’t change, this will never work.”

    By making you feel overly responsible, they deflect attention from their own toxic behavior and keep you stuck in a cycle of self-blame. Narcissists train you to question yourself so often that it becomes second nature.

    After enduring narcissistic abuse, it’s no wonder you’re left feeling confused and full of self-doubt. Narcissists are masters at eroding your sense of self, making it hard to trust your own judgment.

    When my narcissist first cautioned me not to share the news that he was a cheater, I was drowning so thoroughly in his contrived world that I believed the lie that other people would blame me for his cheating. How messed up is that?

    Clear Signs You’re Not a Narcissist

    ✔️Self-Awareness

    You recognize when something is wrong, and you’re willing to reflect on your words, thoughts, and actions. Narcissists, on the other hand, never admit fault.

    ✔️Empathy

    You genuinely care about others’ feelings and how your behavior impacts them. Narcissists lack this trait entirely.

    ✔️Willingness to Change

    You’re open to feedback and want to grow. A narcissist resists any form of personal growth or accountability.

    Time to Stop Questioning and Start Healing

    It’s time to put the doubts to rest and start focusing on your healing. You’ve spent too long in the shadow of someone else’s manipulation, but now it’s your turn to reclaim your sense of self.

    1. Recognize the manipulation.

    Acknowledge that the doubts and self-blame you feel are the result of narcissistic tactics, not reality.

    2. Rebuild your self-esteem.

    Start setting healthy boundaries and practicing self-compassion. You are worthy of kindness—from others and, most importantly, from yourself.

    3. Seek support.

    Don’t be afraid to reach out to a therapist or a support group. Surround yourself with people who validate your experience and can guide you through your healing process.

    The very fact that you’re reflecting, questioning, and growing means you are not the narcissist. You deserve to trust yourself and live free from self-doubt. Start rebuilding your life, and remember—healing is not only possible, but you are already on your way.

    I Am Not a Narcissist!

    After years of living in the shadow of my ex-husband’s narcissistic abuse, I’ve finally stepped into the light—reclaiming my self-confidence piece by piece. It wasn’t easy. It took time, energy, and relentless effort, but I got here by following three crucial steps: recognizing, rebuilding, and reaching out.

    First, I recognized the manipulation for what it was. Then, I began the long process of rebuilding my shattered sense of self. But the most important part? I reached out. My friends and therapists became lifelines, helping me see the truth and guiding me toward healing.

    Now, it’s your turn.

    Time to Believe in Yourself

    If you’ve been asking yourself, “Am I the narcissist?” it’s a strong indication that you are not. It’s time to trust yourself again. You’ve been through the emotional wringer, but now you have the chance to reclaim your confidence and rebuild your self-worth.

    Healing from narcissistic abuse is a journey, but every step you take brings you closer to a life free from manipulation and self-doubt. Remember, you are not the problem—you are capable of change, growth, and, ultimately, healing.

  • Why I Stopped Measuring My Pain Against Others’ Suffering

    Why I Stopped Measuring My Pain Against Others’ Suffering

    “A history of trauma can give you a high tolerance for emotional pain. But just because you can take it doesn’t mean you have to.” ~Dr. Thema

    I just returned from a walk with a dear friend—one of my favorite ways to catch up and socialize. This particular friend has endured significant challenges, especially over the past year. She faced the immense loss of her pets and many of her possessions in a devastating house fire.

    The ensuing tsunami of grief and pain pushed her through a tumultuous year filled with deep suffering and intense healing efforts. All the while, she juggled supporting her son without a partner, working full time, and navigating the complexities of temporary housing and an insurance claim.

    Witnessing her journey was heart-wrenching, but it also highlighted the remarkable strength and resilience of the human spirit. Today, she shared a profound insight: After confronting her greatest fears and being forced to sit with them, she emerged feeling lighter and less burdened by future uncertainties.

    I could see how true this was by her soft but resolved demeanor, the ease in her movements, and her willingness to risk joy again by adopting a new dog and reconnecting with friends.

    The Trap of Trauma Comparison

    Yet, one recurring theme in our conversation stood out to me: She often mentioned that others have survived much worse. This idea, while empathetic, raises an important issue. It seems to suggest that comparing our trauma to that of others can be a way to diminish our own pain and find gratitude for it not being worse.

    An effective way to gain perspective? Yes. But a mindset like this can also undermine our right to fully heal and acknowledge the internal impact of our own struggles.

    I understand this tendency well. Years ago, I broke down in a dental office after learning that I required surgery. The dentist, trying to offer perspective, compared my situation to those facing life-threatening illnesses. While I appreciated the attempt to provide context, it did little to address my immediate emotional experience.

    Looking back, I was certainly holding something energetically that needed attention, but I didn’t have the awareness to look at it. Plus, the dentist’s comment brought forward some shame for reacting in that way, so it was in my interest to move past it as quickly as possible.

    The Origin of Leveraging Comparison to Manage Pain

    At the time, the inclination to feel guilty for my reactions wasn’t a novel thing for me. I lived with a deep sense that entertaining negative feelings was excessive and undeserved because I was healthy, I was an only child, and I was privileged in many ways.

    I grew up at a time when parents often used comparison in their well-intentioned parenting strategy to raise unentitled children. I’ll give you something to cry about… There are starving children in Africa… Don’t be so sensitive… Do you know how good you have it? In my day…

    Even in my own parenting, I’ve been guilty of shaming my children for their feelings—a regret I can only reckon with by trying to do better now.

    The unfortunate truth is that all humans experience pain, and the depths of what is born of that pain can never be fully apparent from an outsider looking in. The real danger of comparison is that it often leads to the notion that trauma is solely about the external events we face rather than the internal impact they have on us.

    The Nature of Trauma: Big T vs. Small T

    Ryan Hassan, a trauma expert, provides a helpful metaphor to differentiate between what is often termed “Big T” trauma—such as war, abuse, or profound loss—and “Small T” trauma, which includes smaller prolonged experiences over time, like bullying or emotional neglect.

    Imagine someone damaging their knee in a car accident versus someone injuring it over years of repetitive strain. The knee injury might be different in its origin, but the damage and healing process are fundamentally similar. The same applies to trauma. Whether it stems from a single catastrophic event or ongoing micro-events, the internal impact can be equally profound and deserving of attention.

    In addition, our ability to metabolize trauma when it happens depends a lot on the support systems and safe relationships we can turn to at the time we experience something terrible. While this is partly circumstantial, the fact that two people who experience an identical trauma can move through it completely differently—one person becoming an addict and the other a motivational speaker, for example—highlights how the external nature of the trauma is not a measure of its impact but rather the capacity an individual has for coping with it at the time.

    My friend’s trauma would certainly be classified at Big T, but even knowing that, her tendency is to compare her experience with even Bigger Ts than her own in an attempt to diminish all she has done to come through the experience.

    The Unique Journey of Each Individual

    It has taken me most of my life to fully grasp that each person’s journey through trauma is uniquely their own. Our paths are shaped by the survival adaptations we’ve developed to protect ourselves in response to various life experiences that have triggered fight, flight, fawn, or freeze responses. Those responses lead to energetic imprints, which are held in our body and must be included in our healing work.

    Each painful experience, whether acute or chronic, holds the potential for profound healing, learning, and personal growth.

    The Missteps of the Medical Model

    Years ago, I was deeply troubled to hear about another friend who was told by her doctor that she should be “over” her father’s passing by now after she randomly started to cry at her checkup when she mentioned losing him the year before. This kind of dismissal, especially from a medical professional, underscores a critical flaw in our conventional approach to trauma.

    While radical acceptance of our circumstances is essential, the energetic aspect of trauma—often dismissed as “woo woo” in medical circles—plays a crucial role. This unaddressed energetic component can manifest in various physical and mental symptoms and require a different kind of intervention.

    Dr. John Sarno’s concept of the “symptom imperative” describes how symptoms rooted in repressed emotional energy shift and appear in new forms until they are resolved at a deeper level. For instance, resolving one symptom like plantar fasciitis might lead to another issue, such as migraines, if underlying trauma remains unaddressed.

    Exploring Comprehensive Healing Approaches

    We are fortunate to live in an era with diverse options for trauma processing. Methods such as craniosacral therapy, somatic movement, Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing (EMDR), Emotional Freedom Technique (tapping), and traditional Eastern practices like acupuncture and chakra balancing offer various ways to address trauma. Creative arts therapy and journaling are also valuable tools. Recognizing the need for these approaches is key, as symptoms often persist until we confront their deeper origins.

    Giving Ourselves Permission to Heal

    My friend’s journey exemplifies the remarkable resilience of the human spirit in the face of profound trauma. But when she mentioned a skin condition that recently came out of nowhere and doctors couldn’t seem to diagnose, it signaled to me that perhaps there may be an aspect of her healing that isn’t getting the attention it’s calling for.

    While society’s understanding of trauma is evolving, we still need reminding that healing is not about comparing our pain but about honoring our personal journey, understanding that our experiences are valid, and listening to the wisdom of our body in the symptomatic language it uses to communicate.

    As we continue to expand our awareness and options for healing, may we all make the time and space to fully process our pain, cultivate our resilience, and move forward with a renewed understanding of what it means to be a whole human living within a complicated and messy human experience.

  • 5 Practical Tips for Overcoming the Pressure to Do More

    5 Practical Tips for Overcoming the Pressure to Do More

    “In the midst of movement and chaos, keep stillness inside of you.” ~Deepak Chopra

    There was a time in my life when chaos seemed to have the upper hand. I tried so hard to keep things together, but it felt like the more I tried to control things, the more they spiraled. I had goals and dreams, sure, but the stress of not being “there” yet always consumed me.

    I remember one night sitting on the edge of my bed, feeling completely drained. I’d just had a tough conversation with a close friend, one of those exchanges where every word hits harder than the last. It wasn’t about the conversation itself; it was about what it represented—a mirror reflecting my own struggles with self-worth.

    I had been so busy chasing success, comparing my progress to others, and pushing myself to meet society’s invisible benchmarks that I lost sight of what was truly important.

    That night was my breaking point. I realized I wasn’t living for myself anymore—I was living for everyone else’s expectations. I felt like I was stuck in a loop, playing the same scenes over and over, always waiting for the big “win” to feel validated. It was time for a shift, but the problem was, I had no idea where to start.

    The Lucky Meeting that Changed Everything

    Around this time, I had a chance encounter with a hypnotherapist. I was skeptical, but something about their approach intrigued me, and I decided to give it a try. That session introduced me to the alpha state—a state of deep relaxation and mental clarity that I had never experienced before.

    The alpha state became my sanctuary. It felt like being connected to a deeper part of myself, a place where the chatter of my mind quieted down, and I could simply be. The hypnotherapist guided me to let go of control, to trust the process, and to embrace a state of calm presence. It was in this space that I realized how much of my life I had been living on autopilot, constantly reacting to external pressures.

    This lucky meeting wasn’t just a one-time experience—it was a turning point. I began incorporating practices that allowed me to access the alpha state on my own, using self-hypnosis techniques and guided visualizations to reconnect with my core. The more I practiced, the more I noticed a shift in how I approached challenges. Instead of reacting from a place of stress, I began responding from a place of clarity and calm.

    The Power of Stillness Amidst the Chaos

    That moment of stillness became the key to everything. I realized I had been running at full speed, not because I had to, but because I believed that slowing down meant failure. But stillness isn’t defeat; it’s clarity. By taking a step back, I began to see how much of my stress was self-created—driven by unrealistic timelines, external comparisons, and the pressure to “have it all together.”

    In that pause, I asked myself a question that changed everything: “What if my worth has nothing to do with my achievements?”

    I realized that taking breaks from the stress of constant striving slowly relieves the pressure to do more. Connecting with our true selves through stillness allows us to recalibrate and find peace without needing to chase validation. We can trust that we’re enough, just as we are, without having to “do” more to prove it.

    Breaking the Loop

    My first practical step? Setting boundaries with myself. I started by noticing when I was acting out of fear or the need for approval. Each time I felt that pang of “I’m not doing enough,” I reminded myself to stop and breathe. This simple shift allowed me to recognize that my worth is inherent, not something to be earned or proven.

    One of the biggest lessons I learned from this period of my life is that peace doesn’t come from achieving more; it comes from accepting where you are. I had to stop running on autopilot and start listening to myself. That meant embracing my flaws, imperfections, and everything in between.

    Practical Tips for Overcoming Self-Pressure

    1. Create space for stillness.

    Set aside time every day where you’re not actively doing anything. Just be. This is a chance to reconnect with your true self, away from the noise of social media, emails, or to-do lists.

    Taking intentional breaks allows us to relieve the pressure of constant striving and remember who we are beyond our achievements.

    2. Catch your inner critic.

    Notice your thoughts, especially when you’re feeling overwhelmed. Are you being overly critical of yourself? If so, take a step back and try reframing those thoughts with compassion.

    Remember, kindness toward yourself isn’t something you need to earn—it’s a choice available to you at any time. And remember, too: You are not your thoughts, and you are not your feelings. They are simply passing experiences, not reflections of who you are.

    3. Shift from achievement to alignment.

    Instead of measuring success by what you’ve done, focus on how aligned you feel with your values. When making a decision for your future, ask yourself, “Am I being true to myself?”

    This helps you connect with your deeper purpose rather than chasing goals that may not truly fulfill you.

    4. Celebrate progress, not perfection.

    Give yourself credit for the small wins. Life isn’t about checking off boxes; it’s about growth and evolution. Celebrate the fact that you’re on the journey, learning and evolving with each step.

    5. Stay present.

    When we focus too much on future outcomes, we lose sight of the present moment and end up missing out on life. Practice being present by grounding yourself in the here and now. Whether it’s through mindfulness, meditation, or simply taking a deep breath, presence is your most powerful tool.

    The Journey Back to Yourself

    Through this process, I discovered that real peace and fulfillment come when we stop defining ourselves by external success. It’s about knowing that you are enough as you are right now. This doesn’t mean giving up on growth or ambition—it means allowing those things to evolve naturally, rather than forcing them to fit a specific timeline or expectation.

    The lesson here? Your worth isn’t tied to your achievements or productivity. You don’t need to “prove” anything to anyone. Sometimes the most important thing we can do is pause, reflect, and trust that we’re exactly where we need to be.

  • How Embracing What I Resisted Healed Me from Chronic Illness

    How Embracing What I Resisted Healed Me from Chronic Illness

    “What you resist not only persists but will grow in size.” ~Carl Jung

    Ever since I was diagnosed with Lupus at the age of five, my life has felt like a never-ending struggle against fatigue, pain, and a myriad of symptoms. Despite trying numerous treatments and medications when I was younger, I never felt truly vibrant. My body seemed perpetually at war with itself, leaving me exhausted and unfulfilled.

    Multiple flares often took me away from school and friends. I wondered why I couldn’t just live a childhood free of pain and suffering, like the other kids.

    I struggled with wanting things to be a certain way and feeling a loss of control, which just catapulted me right into trying to control everything around me, leading to more distress and flaring my symptoms.

    It was a vicious cycle.

    Over the years, I clung to various diets and therapies, hoping to find relief. I tried all the diets and countless lifestyle changes. It felt like it had to be all or nothing. If I wasn’t doing it right 100% of the time, then it wasn’t going to work.  But no matter what I did, the relief was always temporary, and my health issues continued to overwhelm me.

    The pandemic pushed me to a breaking point, intensifying my symptoms and bringing severe ringing in my ears and debilitating dizziness. It was a wake-up call, a moment of clarity where I recognized that I could no longer continue battling my body in the same way. I knew I needed a different approach to truly heal.

    I found myself at a crossroads.

    If what I was doing wasn’t working, what if everything I critiqued, ridiculed, and judged was exactly where I needed to go? And exactly the medicine I needed?

    I realized it was time to address my emotions and subconscious beliefs. Even if it didn’t get me anywhere or I still decided it wasn’t for me, I could always walk away from it. I had to be willing to try, because clearly this way of living was keeping me in pain, fatigued, miserable, and unhappy.

    I discovered that healing wasn’t solely about managing symptoms; it was about transforming my entire approach to life and how I viewed my condition. The turning point came when I realized that resisting my condition only made it persist and grow. By embracing all that I was resisting—both my condition itself and the emotions that often triggered it—things started to open up.

    Breaking Free from Stagnation

    Stagnation often stems from clinging to familiar patterns that no longer serve us. The comfort of the known and the fear of the unknown can trap us in cycles of merely managing symptoms without achieving real progress. Recognizing when we are stuck is crucial; it requires the courage to step outside these patterns and embrace change.

    On my journey, I found myself clinging to overthinking and rationalizing instead of just feeling my feelings of fear, anxiety, and insecurity. This kept me stuck in a spiral of thoughts without ever taking any action. I also noticed that I was very critical of others and recognized that this was a sign of how critical I was being with myself.

    Often, breaking free from stagnation comes at a rock-bottom moment in our lives, when we can admit to ourselves that our normal mode of doing things just. Isn’t. Working! These rock-bottom moments often bring a deep awareness into our lives where our current state in life comes into crystal clear focus. This awareness may be the catalyst for change, but how do you keep the momentum going?

    Building your muscle of awareness and weaving that into your life and all that you do is the key.

    To break free, start by evaluating your current routines, habits, and patterns of thought. Are they truly helping, or are they just familiar routines that provide only temporary relief? Are they just soothing activities so you can tell yourself you are doing something while keeping yourself stuck on the hamster wheel?

    Observing your thoughts and behaviors without judgment will allow you to be a witness to yourself and make changes without attachment.

    In my own journey, as I built awareness, I found a key aspect to success was to meet myself where I was. It is easy to fool ourselves into thinking we need to change overnight or to want results immediately. But pushing for this just keeps us stuck longer and removes any joy we may get from the journey.

    On my own journey, I found that being present and feeling grateful in the small moments was key—like taking a breath over a lovely cup of matcha, or simply enjoying the warm breeze on my face. When it all felt overwhelming, I could come back to the present and appreciate whatever I was doing in that moment. I still find great comfort in these small moments.

    It’s not about perfection, but progress. The more fun and curiosity we can have, and the more we move toward that which truly inspires us, the easier and faster we will evolve and heal.

    The Power of the Subconscious Mind

    Our subconscious beliefs shape our reality far more than we often realize. When we resist acknowledging the role of our subconscious, we may inadvertently reinforce limitations and barriers to our healing. By exploring and reprogramming these deep-seated beliefs, we can start breaking free from self-imposed limitations.

    For instance, if you see yourself as a chronic illness patient, this identity can persistently shape your experience and interactions. Shifting your self-perception to that of a vibrant and capable individual can transform how you engage with the world and yourself. Easier said than done, I know; I’ve been there. But the more you work on identifying, uprooting, and reclaiming what you want to believe, the easier the transformation will become.

    As my identity evolved from being a victim of illness to a vibrant individual, my healing process accelerated, and life opened up in even more ways than I had ever dreamed of. I was more connected with loved ones around me and more empathetic, and dreams I had desired for ages were suddenly appearing in my life without effort.

    Finding Safety in the Body

    In many circles of healing, they talk about the power of mindfulness and meditation. I have a deep respect for these modalities, and they have their place in a healing journey—mine included.

    When I discovered somatic work, a form of therapy that uses mind-body techniques to help people release stress, trauma, and tension, it felt like my healing unlocked. For years, I felt as though my body was a battleground, constantly waging war against itself. This persistent sense of threat and discomfort made it difficult to heal effectively.

    Finding, exploring, and embracing feelings of safety and trust in my body allowed me to address not just the symptoms but the root causes of my distress. Engaging in somatic work—focusing on feeling to process and then release emotions stored in my body—was transformative, magical even. This approach helped me understand that healing involves both mental and somatic dimensions.

    By creating a sense of security and comfort within myself, I was able to support my body’s natural healing processes more effectively. Embracing the nonlinear nature of healing, understanding that progress comes in waves, and finding peace in my body were crucial for moving from mere survival to a state of thriving.

    Reflecting on my journey, I realize that true healing from chronic illness demands more than just managing symptoms—it requires a fundamental shift in how we approach life.

    My battle with Lupus taught me that resisting my condition only made it persist, while embracing change allowed me to find real progress. By breaking free from stagnation, reprogramming my subconscious beliefs, and finding safety within my body, I discovered a transformative path to well-being.

    Ultimately, this journey showed me that healing is a dynamic, non-linear process involving both mind and body. Embracing these insights allowed me to move from mere survival to thriving with renewed vitality and joy. The path to healing, though not without its ups and downs, proved that embracing what we resist can lead us to exactly that which we most desire.

  • The Silent Struggle: When Saying “No” Is Not That Simple

    The Silent Struggle: When Saying “No” Is Not That Simple

    “The first step toward change is awareness. The second step is acceptance.” ~Nathaniel Branden

    I vividly recall a morning when my son was just five years old. My husband wanted to leave the country we were living in again, this time to escape what he believed was the imminent collapse of society due to COVID.

    After years of constant relocations, I had finally started to build a community of friends, my son was settled in school, and I was beginning to feel some sense of normalcy. But he couldn’t stand it. My growing independence seemed to threaten him, and I could sense his unease.

    His anxiety about the constantly shifting COVID situation only seemed to intensify his need for control. Approaching me in the kitchen with an intense expression, he declared, “We need to leave the country now, before they close the borders for good,” his voice sharp and urgent. I knew that his desire to relocate us to a non-English-speaking country would not only deepen my isolation but also render me wholly dependent on him once more.

    “No, I don’t want to move again,” I responded cautiously. My heart raced as I braced for his reaction. I had experienced this countless times before, moments where a simple “no” would set off a storm.

    Sure enough, the guilt-tripping began immediately. “You care more about your friends than your own family,” he snarled, his words filled with contempt. “You’re just selfish, and you’re too scared to see the truth.” He knew exactly how to manipulate my emotions and to make me feel small.

    For weeks, he harassed me about the move, following me around the house and bombarding me with articles on “government control.” Eventually, he involved our son in the manipulation. “Wouldn’t you love to move to a warmer country with lots of beaches?” he asked our child. “Tell Mummy how much you want to go.”

    The High Cost of “No”

    The cost of saying “no” was always too high. It wasn’t just the exhaustion of defending my decisions, but the way he would target my self-worth. He accused me of being weak and too scared to live a full life, and of harming our son by denying him the experiences he deemed essential for his development.

    “If you don’t agree, I’ll take our son and go without you,” he threatened, leaving me feeling cornered. There was no room for compromise—only submission.

    In these moments, my identity became tied to his criticisms, and I began to internalize the belief that my needs and desires were unworthy of consideration. My self-worth eroded with every encounter, and I started to question whether I deserved the stability and independence I longed for.

    The Silent Battle of Coercive Control

    At the time, I didn’t realize I was living in a situation defined by coercive control. This form of abuse is often subtle, insidious, and far-reaching, characterized by patterns of manipulation designed to strip away a victim’s autonomy and self-worth.

    Coercive control doesn’t always manifest through physical violence, making it difficult for victims to recognize it as abuse. Instead, it erodes your personal freedom, your ability to make decisions, and ultimately, your sense of self.

    Saying “no” in a coercive relationship feels like striking a match near gasoline. The abuser thrives on control, and when that control is threatened, they will go to any lengths to regain it. For me, that meant enduring relentless verbal abuse, where my husband attacked my intelligence, character, and mothering.

    When insults didn’t work, he turned to emotional manipulation, saying things like, “I just want what’s best for our family. Why are you so against that?” When emotional appeals failed, he reminded me of his financial power, ensuring I was aware of my complete dependence on him.

    I used to think if I could just explain my reasoning clearly enough, he would understand. But abusers don’t operate on logic or empathy—they operate on power and control. My refusal wasn’t just an inconvenience to him; it was a direct challenge to his authority.

    When “No” Feels Impossible

    What many don’t understand is that saying “no” to an abuser isn’t just difficult—it’s dangerous. While my husband never physically harmed me, the psychological torment was equally devastating. Saying “no” was never worth the emotional fallout—the days of walking on eggshells, the cold stares, and the endless nights of lectures designed to break me down.

    As domestic abuse expert Evan Stark explains, “Coercive control is the perpetrator establishing in the mind of the victim the price of her resistance.” In my case, every “no” brought with it a whirlwind of accusations, guilt, and threats. His constant barrage of manipulation made defiance feel like an insurmountable risk, leading me to internalize the belief that my resistance would only result in greater harm.

    Reclaiming My Power

    It took me years to understand that saying “no” in a coercive relationship is never just about a single decision—it’s about power. Every time I caved, I surrendered a little more of my autonomy. But everything shifted when I faced the prospect of moving countries again. Something clicked. I began reaching out to friends and family—something I had been too afraid to do before. I started to recognize the patterns of abuse that had controlled my life.

    The turning point came when I started seeing a therapist. She helped me untangle the manipulation I had been living under and see my situation for what it was. For the first time, I understood the depth of the emotional toll it was taking on me. It became increasingly clear that I couldn’t continue in an environment where my needs were consistently disregarded and my well-being compromised.

    Ultimately, I made the decision to leave my abusive marriage. It wasn’t easy, but I realized that leaving was the only way to prioritize my safety and reclaim my life. The thought of remaining in a situation that perpetuated my isolation and dependence became unbearable, and I knew that reclaiming my freedom would start with that crucial decision.

    Lessons for Those Still in the Fight

    I remember the countless times I thought, “If I just avoid confrontation, things will be okay.” I often complied quietly, not because I agreed but because it felt safer to maintain the peace. But over time, I realized that this approach wasn’t just eroding my autonomy—it was eroding my self-worth. If you find yourself in a similar situation, know that taking small steps toward regaining your autonomy is possible.

    Cultivating internal resilience is one of the first ways to begin. Even if saying “no” out loud feels too dangerous, you can start by protecting yourself emotionally. When my husband belittled me, I would mentally counter his words by affirming my worth, telling myself, “I know my value, and this isn’t true.” Over time, I began separating his harmful words from my inner truth and reclaiming my sense of self from within.

    You might also consider setting small, manageable boundaries. Look for moments where you can say “no” to minor requests that are unlikely to provoke a major reaction. It doesn’t have to be about asserting yourself in every situation. Start with boundaries that feel comfortable and build from there. It’s not about winning every battle—it’s about taking back the power that’s been taken from you, one step at a time.

    When It Becomes a Matter of Survival

    The truth is, when saying “no” feels unsafe, it may be time to question whether staying in the relationship is truly an option. If asserting even the smallest boundaries leads to verbal attacks or threats, your emotional and psychological safety may be at risk. I know how easy it is to convince yourself that the abuse is manageable—that by avoiding certain triggers, you can keep the peace. But here’s what I learned: When you can’t safely say “no,” it’s not about conflict anymore—it’s about survival.

    If you find yourself feeling increasingly anxious or afraid, it might be time to consider leaving. I know the decision to leave can feel overwhelming, but reclaiming your autonomy is vital to protecting your mental health. Sometimes, leaving isn’t an immediate, all-or-nothing decision—it’s a gradual process. Gathering resources, building a support network, and planning your exit carefully can be small but essential acts of self-care.

    Ultimately, the journey to reclaim your freedom starts with recognizing your worth. The first step is acknowledging that you deserve more than a life lived in fear or doubt. For me, it wasn’t about trying to fix the relationship or hoping my husband would change. It was about prioritizing myself and my child.

    You deserve to feel safe, valued, and loved—by yourself and by others. This realization may not come overnight, but accepting the reality of your situation, even when it’s painful, is the beginning of true freedom and self-worth.

  • How to Stop Living in Perpetual Guilt and Forgive Yourself

    How to Stop Living in Perpetual Guilt and Forgive Yourself

    “I have learned that the person I have to ask for forgiveness from the most is myself. You must love yourself. You have to forgive yourself every day. Whenever you remember a shortcoming, a flaw, you have to tell yourself, ‘That’s just fine.’ You have to forgive yourself so much until you don’t even see those things anymore. Because that’s what love is like.” ~C. JoyBell C.

    Have you ever wondered why, despite doing your best to heal and grow, you can’t seem to shake off the feeling of inadequacy and only see minimal results for all your efforts?

    Maybe, like myself, you don’t know you live with a very subtle yet perpetual feeling of guilt.

    The first time I became familiar with this chronic guilt was when I learned about self-awareness. At the beginning of my healing journey, I knew that to change anything, I must first be aware that it is there.

    Although this sounds good in theory and might work when we look at it from a logical standpoint, often it doesn’t apply when we are in the arena, going through the imperfections of the healing process.

    In his book Breaking the Habit of Being Yourself, Joe Dispenza explains how our bodies become addicted to certain chemicals we release based on the thoughts we think and the emotions we feel.

    If you are used to feeling guilt, your mind will unconsciously look for it in everything you do, so the body gets the hit.

    Going back to self-awareness, let me ask you this:

    What do you do when you discover a pattern you want to change or a toxic habit you want to heal—for example, that you people-please? Do you reach for understanding and compassion or judge yourself, feeling like you “should” act differently?

    Exactly.

    It’s almost like we think if we are harsh enough with ourselves, we will do better next time, soldier up, and get it “right.” While in the process, we are crushing our souls, unconsciously sabotaging our healing, and feeling smaller each day.

    As I dove deeper into exploring my guilt, sometimes the things I judged myself for blew my mind. I judged myself for how I felt, and once I observed it, I judged myself for judging myself for how I felt. Or I would use guilt to unconsciously validate the belief that I am not enough.

    Even when I made healthy decisions, like distancing myself from people who weren’t good for me, I would judge myself for bailing out and not staying around and trying harder. There was always a reason to feel guilty.

    It took me a long time to discover these patterns, and I still spot them today. It was and still is a part of my self-talk, although not as often as it used to be. However, while developing a more loving approach to my guilt, I realized that only a healthy dose of love, compassion, and understanding could heal me.

    We may find it challenging to spot chronic guilt since its presence is very subtle. If guilting and judging ourselves is our way of life, we may think, “This is how I always feel. It’s normal.”

    But it isn’t. We weren’t meant to swim in the waters of inadequacy or not-enoughness. If you think, “But what if I let the guilt go and relax, and then don’t feel the drive to do more, heal more, grow more?”

    Although guilt may seem like a fuel that pushes us forward, from my experience, it keeps our healing at bay. It takes away the feeling of being alive, motivated, inspired, and courageous. It makes us shrink and brings uncertainty and self-doubt.

    I remember a time when I started to have digestive issues right after I left my marriage and began the process of a divorce. The hardest things for me to overcome were the anger and guilt I felt for the things I’d allowed, although I wasn’t aware of this at that time. All I knew was that I was pissed. This, of course, made my digestive issues even worse.

    During this time, I began learning more about the connection between my gut and my mental and emotional health and how my anxiety, sadness, and stress affect the health of my physical body.

    One day, as I spoke to a friend on the phone, I broke down crying, knowing that I was responsible for how I physically felt.

    After I calmed down, we sat in silence for a few moments after she said, “Maybe it’s time you forgive yourself for it.”

    Her words immediately touched my heart, and I knew that I had to come back to the basics of my healing, which so often lay in forgiving myself. Since then, I’ve approached my digestive flare-ups and healing with an attitude of forgiveness. This has allowed me to ease into the moment and has helped me look at the whole situation with more love and understanding toward myself.

    I’ve realized that living with the attitude of forgiveness isn’t a one-time event but a mindset. And from everything I understand about this sacred and soulful practice, these are four steps I always follow.

    1. Get curious. 

    When you observe a behavior about yourself that you don’t like or experience what I call a healing relapse (the time when you act in old, unhealthy ways), instead of immediately reaching for judgment, get curious.

    Healing relapses are real, and they happen to all of us. You will take one step forward and two steps back. Eventually, it will be two steps forward and only one step back. At some point, you may move back to your old ways. You say yes when you want to say no and don’t reinforce your boundary, then feel a sense of resentment. It’s okay. Give yourself permission to be imperfect.

    A simple affirmation I use to remind myself to live a judgment-free life is, “Although I see myself going back to judgment, people-pleasing, seeking validation, etc., I choose to stop here, stay away from judgment, and get curious instead. It’s okay to make mistakes as I heal.”

    2. Ask yourself challenging but healing questions. 

    When you notice judgment or guilt and get curious instead of resentful or judgmental, turn inward and try to understand. Explore deeper aspects of your self-talk and see where you are still choosing guilt over kindness and compassion.

    Here are three common questions I ask myself:

    “How can I better understand the part of me that I want to judge?”

    “If receiving forgiveness is difficult for me, what wounds or pains do I need to attend to more to open my heart to healing?”

    “How can I see this moment of judgment as an opportunity for growth? What can I learn from it?”

    3. Use meditation as your self-forgiveness tool.  

    Meditation has been my number one tool in healing my wounds. I’ve used it for self-forgiveness, inner child, self-love, and more.

    A few years back, I was part of a weekly coaching group. Each month, we worked through different subjects, and at that time, the topic of the month was forgiveness. The person leading the group invited us to meditate together. I got comfortable in my seat and closed my eyes. We started with a series of breathing exercises to get grounded and relaxed. Then he asked us to repeat after him. The first thing he said was, “I forgive myself.”

    The moment I mentally uttered these words, I broke down crying while feeling an immense release. It’s like a giant burden fell off my chest. This was my first practice of self-forgiveness, and it made me realize how much guilt and judgment I carried around on a constant basis.

    Since then, using self-forgiveness meditation has become one of my favorite tools to work through my guilt.

    4. Heal negative self-talk with self-compassion. 

    As I mentioned earlier, living with the attitude of forgiveness is a way of life, not a one-time event.

    At first, you may find yourself going back and forth between judgment and understanding. This is a part of the process, so don’t feel discouraged. Instead, every time you notice that you are judging yourself, pause. You can also say “pause” to yourself mentally or out loud. This will interrupt the thought pattern of judgment that’s taking place.

    Then, attune to your negative self-talk and don’t resent it. You can use this compassionate statement, “I know you,” referring to your mind, “are here to protect me by offering thoughts that are known and familiar and feel safe. However, I choose to approach myself differently moving forward. I am worthy of compassion and forgiveness and choose to treat myself kindly.”

    Healing from guilt isn’t a quick fix but rather a process of changing the core of the relationship you have with yourself.

    Be patient while navigating this journey, and when you notice yourself going back to your old ways, just take a deep breath and declare with all your heart: I am worthy of a guilt-free life, and this time, I choose forgiveness.

  • How I’ve Found Relief from Panic Attacks

    How I’ve Found Relief from Panic Attacks

    “Don’t assume I’m weak because I have panic attacks. You’ll never know the amount of strength it takes to face the world every day.” ~Unknown

    I was just eighteen when it happened. Sitting in a crowded school assembly, my heart pounded, my chest felt constricted in a vice, and the air seemed to vanish from my lungs. As my surroundings closed in on me, my inner voice muttered, “I think you are dying.”

    That was the day I experienced my first panic attack.

    Terrified, I fled from the hall. “I need to see a doctor now,” I gasped tearfully to the school secretary. “Something is wrong! I can’t breathe properly!”

    The secretary, recognizing what was happening, reassured me that what I was experiencing was a panic attack. Taking my hand in hers, she explained that it would soon pass.

    Her guiding me through a few rounds of slow, deep breathing eased the panic. Drenched in sweat and drained from the experience, I called my mom to fetch me.

    After that first terrifying experience, panic attacks became a regular, unwelcome presence in my life. I lived in constant fear, always on edge, dreading the next one.

    The fear wasn’t just about the physical symptoms; it was also about the overwhelming sense of doom, the fear of collapsing in public, of losing control, or even dying.

    Whenever panic struck, my immediate response was to escape, to flee from wherever I was. I would phone my mom or dad, hoping their voice would anchor me until the terror subsided.

    This pattern cost me countless experiences. Movies, parties, shopping trips—anything that could trigger a panic attack—became something to avoid. My world shrank as the panic attacks took over my life.

    Locked in Panic’s Cycle

    Panic attacks can manifest in various ways. I have experienced them all. Multiple times. Racing heart, shortness of breath, chest pain, dizziness, sweating, tingling in my arms and legs, dizziness, nausea, stomach cramps, sweating or chills, or detachment from reality.

    Even though I knew rationally that these were all panic symptoms, I sometimes found it hard to accept that nothing else was wrong. I know many people share this sentiment.

    In the beginning, panic was a lonely experience for me, as I was ashamed to talk about it to friends. This meant quietly suffering. It was a dark place to be. I ached within and longed for this condition to disappear forever.

    My once colorful world quickly morphed into a choking gray. Thankfully, in time, I chose to share my condition with others.

    In doing so, I created a supportive lifeline. People whose gentle, caring aid helped me to navigate the panic attacks when they felt too overwhelming to manage alone.

    Decoding the Trigger: The Nervous System’s Hidden Role

    I sought the help of a psychologist who helped me to understand the panic attack cycle. I consumed books on panic to understand the condition that had turned my world upside down.

    Panic attacks were foreign words to me when I first experienced them. However, I quickly learned how common they are.

    Through therapy, I realized my panic attacks were not random or a sign of weakness; they were the result of a dysregulated nervous system. Through various life experiences, my body’s natural alarm system—designed to protect me from danger—had gone haywire.

    My nervous system was stuck in a constant state of high alert, responding to threats that didn’t exist. This realization was a turning point in my journey.

    With this new understanding, I began to change how I approached my panic attacks. Instead of fleeing or resisting, I started to face them head-on. I learned to breathe through the discomfort.

    I had always been aware of the delicate interplay between mind and body and realized that my thoughts needed attention. My catastrophic thinking had become my nemesis, flooding my body with increased panic symptoms.

    I worked hard at changing my thoughts, and, over time, the booming negative voice was replaced with a more reassuring, positive one.

    Progress took time. Patience was an important lesson. I learned to be gentle with myself and to celebrate the small victories. When setbacks occurred, I encouraged myself to persevere.

    Panic Tips for Immediate Relief

    Grounding Techniques: I use the “5-4-3-2-1” technique when panic strikes. This entails naming five things I can see, four I can touch, three I can hear, two I can smell, and one I can taste. This is a powerful method, as it helps distract my mind from the panic symptoms.

    Conscious Breathing Rounds: This technique involves breathing in for four counts through my nose, holding for four counts, and then breathing out through my mouth for four counts. I do several rounds of these. The positive effect this has on my nervous system is evident after this exercise.

    Positive affirmations: Memorize a few positive affirmations to repeat to yourself during a panic attack. Affirmations such as “This is just a false alarm” or “I am safe, and these feelings will pass” are very useful. These gentle affirmations invite the nervous system to quieten.

    From Fear to Freedom: A Bold New Journey

    Today, panic attacks no longer rule my life. I’ve learned to manage and understand them. Their occurrence is far less frequent.

    If you suffer from panic attacks, know this: With the right tools and mindset, you can also regain control of your life.

    Find a caring therapist. Allow yourself to be vulnerable. You may temporarily require medication, in which case your therapist will guide you. Most importantly, do the internal work.

    Today, unlike forty years ago, when my struggles first started, panic attacks are widely discussed. And with access to the Internet, information on the topic is merely a click away. I wish I’d had that luxury back then.

    Facebook offers access to many free groups. Join an anxiety support group that resonates with you.

    Connect with your tribe. A shared space of meaningful interaction and empathy offers hope and encouragement.

    What could be more healing than the collective energy of your tribe cheering you on every day?

  • How Gratitude and Mindfulness Gave Me My Life Back

    How Gratitude and Mindfulness Gave Me My Life Back

    “Train your mind and heart to see the good in everything. There is always something to be grateful for.” ~Unknown

    I used to rush through life, constantly ticking off to-dos, feeling like I was always chasing something just beyond my reach. My days were a blur of deadlines, errands, and commitments. And yet, in the quiet moments—when I finally lay my head on the pillow at night—there was this heaviness, this emptiness I couldn’t shake.

    I kept telling myself that once I finished the next big project, once I achieved the next goal, I’d feel better. But that “better” feeling never came.

    Then one afternoon, something changed. I was sitting in my car after an exhausting day at work, staring blankly at the traffic in front of me. The world was loud and chaotic, and I felt disconnected from it all. I couldn’t even remember what I’d eaten for lunch or if I’d really been present during the meeting I’d spent hours preparing for. I was just… existing. Going through the motions.

    It wasn’t a big event that shifted things for me. There was no grand revelation or life-altering moment. It was something as simple as the song playing on the radio. It was a song I’d heard countless times before, but in that moment, it hit differently.

    The lyrics spoke about pausing, about breathing in life, about seeing the beauty in the ordinary. For the first time in what felt like forever, I noticed the warmth of the sunlight streaming through my car window. I noticed the steady rhythm of my breath and how it calmed the rising tide of anxiety in my chest.

    It was as though my mind had cleared a little, just enough for me to catch a glimpse of what I’d been missing. That fleeting moment was my “ah ha” moment, the one where I realized I had been living my life on autopilot, never truly appreciating the present. I had been running, running so fast I forgot to feel the ground beneath my feet.

    I didn’t know it then, but that was the start of a deep transformation for me. The next morning, I decided to try something different. Instead of reaching for my phone the second I woke up, I lay there in bed, just breathing, just being. I looked around my room, feeling the softness of the sheets and hearing the gentle hum of the world outside. It was a small shift, but it felt monumental.

    Over time, I started practicing gratitude. I kept a small notebook by my bedside, and each night, I wrote down three things I was grateful for. At first, it felt like a forced exercise, like I was trying to convince myself to be positive. But slowly, the practice became more natural. I found myself appreciating the little things—the crispness of the morning air, the smile of a stranger, the sound of rain tapping against the window. These were moments I had once glossed over, but now they felt like treasures.

    Mindfulness was the next piece of the puzzle. It wasn’t about meditating for hours or trying to reach some enlightened state. It was simply about being present. Whether I was walking, eating, or just sitting quietly, I learned to focus on the now instead of worrying about the past or the future. I started savoring my morning breakfast, not gulping it down as I rushed out the door. I noticed the colors of the sky, the shapes of the clouds, and the sensation of the cool breeze on my skin.

    My relationships began to shift, too. I was more present with the people I loved, truly listening when they spoke instead of planning my response or getting distracted by my thoughts. I laughed more freely, connected more deeply, and most importantly, I started showing up for myself, fully and completely.

    I kept returning to the realization that life was happening right in front of me, and I was missing it. As the weeks passed, my new habits of practicing gratitude and mindfulness began to weave themselves into the fabric of my daily routine. Each day felt a little lighter, a little more grounded, and I found myself noticing things I had taken for granted before.

    I used to think gratitude was reserved for the big things: promotions, holidays, or achieving something significant. But as I began to explore the deeper meaning of it, I realized how wrong I had been.

    Gratitude, I discovered, lives in the tiniest moments, in the details we often overlook. It’s in the way my morning drink warms my hands on a chilly day, in the way my cats greet me with excitement as though we’ve been apart for weeks, even though it’s only been a few hours.

    One morning, after weeks of practicing this new mindset, I stood by my window and watched the sun slowly rise. I’d seen hundreds of sunrises in my lifetime, but that morning, it felt different. The sky was painted with shades of pink and gold, and the air was cool and crisp against my skin. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, feeling the moment settle into me. For the first time in a long time, I felt truly alive. Present. Connected.

    That was when I realized something profound: gratitude isn’t just a practice. It’s a way of living. It’s a lens through which I now view the world. And through that lens, everything feels more vibrant, more meaningful. The more I gave thanks for the little things, the more little things there were to be thankful for. It was as though my life, which had once seemed dull and routine, was now sparkling with possibility.

    One of the biggest shifts I noticed was how my perspective on challenges changed.

    Life didn’t suddenly stop throwing difficulties my way. There were still tough days, stressful deadlines, and moments when things didn’t go as planned. But now, instead of getting swept up in frustration or self-pity, I found myself pausing, breathing, and asking, “What can I learn from this?” or “What is this teaching me?” It wasn’t always easy, but each time I reframed a problem, it felt like I was reclaiming a bit of my peace.

    One particularly difficult day stands out. It was one of those mornings where everything seemed to go wrong from the start. My alarm didn’t go off, I spilled my water all over me on the way to work, and by lunchtime, I had already faced a series of minor disasters that left me feeling frazzled and defeated.

    Old me would’ve spiraled into a cycle of frustration and negativity, but something stopped me in my tracks. I took a step back, quite literally. I walked outside, feeling the sun on my face, and I asked myself, “What can I be grateful for right now?”

    At first, it felt forced. My mind resisted the question, but I persisted. I took a deep breath and let the fresh air fill my lungs. I looked around and noticed the vibrant green of the trees, the sound of birds singing, and the simple fact that I had made it through half the day. It wasn’t perfect, but it was enough. And in that moment, I felt my tension start to ease. I was reminded that no matter how hectic life gets, there’s always something to appreciate if I just take the time to notice.

    This new mindset didn’t just affect my relationship with myself; it transformed the way I interacted with others. I became more patient, more understanding, and more present. I used to be quick to judge or assume the worst in situations, but now I find myself pausing and reflecting. I’ve learned that everyone has their own struggles, their own battles, and sometimes a little bit of kindness and empathy can go a long way. Gratitude has made me softer, more compassionate, and more open-hearted.

    Mindfulness, too, became a constant companion. It’s funny how something as simple as paying attention can completely shift your experience.

    I started noticing how often I was caught up in my thoughts, lost in worries about the future or regrets about the past. Mindfulness brought me back to the present, to the here and now. It helped me realize that the present moment is all we ever truly have, and it’s enough. More than enough, actually.

    I started integrating mindfulness into everything I did. Washing dishes became a meditative act, feeling the warmth of the water and hearing the gentle clink of plates. Walking became an opportunity to notice the world around me, the feel of the ground beneath my feet and the sounds of life buzzing around me. Even mundane tasks, like folding laundry, turned into opportunities to be present, to engage fully with whatever I was doing.

    One of the most beautiful things that came from this journey was a sense of peace I hadn’t felt in years. I used to think peace was something external, something I could only find once my circumstances were perfect. But now, I understand that peace is something I can cultivate within myself, no matter what’s going on around me. It’s in the moments when I choose to pause, to breathe, and to connect with the present. It’s in the gratitude I feel for simply being alive, for the opportunity to experience life in all its messiness and beauty.

    Looking back, I can hardly recognize the person I used to be. That version of me was always chasing, always striving, always looking for happiness somewhere out there. But now I know better. Happiness isn’t something to be found. It’s something to be created, moment by moment, through gratitude and mindfulness.

    And that’s the greatest gift I’ve given myself—the ability to be fully alive in my life, to embrace each day, not as something to be conquered or endured, but as a series of moments to be savored. It’s not always easy, and there are days when I fall back into old patterns, but now I have the tools to bring myself back and reconnect with what truly matters.

    It hasn’t been a perfect journey. I still have days when I get swept up in the busyness of life, when I forget to pause, when I feel that familiar sense of overwhelm creeping in. But now, I have the tools to ground myself. I have gratitude. I have mindfulness. And I have the awareness that, no matter what’s going on around me, I can always find a moment of peace within.

    Gratitude and mindfulness didn’t just change my life; they gave me my life back. And for that, I will always be grateful.