Tag: wisdom

  • How to Make Shame Your Ally

    How to Make Shame Your Ally

    “Shame is the intensely painful feeling or experience of believing we are flawed and therefore unworthy of love and belonging.” ~Brené Brown

    I was walking to my office one day when one of my colleagues gave me a compliment about what I was wearing. I was a little surprised and, without thinking, said something disparaging about my dress and darted off into my office.

    As I sat down, I noticed an intense wave of discomfort all over my body, and dark churning thoughts started attacking me.

    What is wrong with me? I asked myself. Why did I say such a stupid thing? Why couldn’t I just be normal and say thank you, take the compliment, and move on? Why am I always so awkward? 

    As I sat by my desk, I felt like I just wanted to shrivel up and disappear. If the ground had opened up for me right there, I would have willingly jumped into it.

    The reply I had given my colleague started to replay in my mind, each time bringing fresh waves of nausea in my stomach and icy chills running down my back.

    What was happening to me, and why was such a seemingly innocent event feeling so uncomfortable, so painful even?

    When I started to learn about emotions and the role they play in our lives, I noticed a standout feeling that seemed to be quieter, subtler, more invisible than other emotions, but that had possibly the most powerful force of them all. It felt like this emotion’s impact, and how it affected my life and that of many others, was stronger than gravity.

    That feeling was shame.

    When I talk to people about shame now, many people don’t even recognize they feel it. That’s why I consider it an invisible emotion. It exerts a powerful force in our lives, affecting how we behave and what we think of ourselves, and it leads many of us to get lost in loops of self-blame, punishment, and vicious, nasty, self-hating thoughts. 

    When we don’t recognize that we are feeling shame, not only does it erode our self-confidence, but it’s very hard to do anything about it. It’s hard for us to release ourselves from that vicious voice of an inner critic.

    Shame was what I was feeling in the office that day. Shame that I hadn’t been able to make an effortlessly charming reply to my colleague. Shame that I might have sounded stupid. Shame that I was getting it wrong socially, again.

    When I learned about shame, I realized how natural it was that it arose in a situation like this. How so many people feel shame in social situations—in different ways than perhaps me, but shame around other human beings nonetheless.

    Shame isn’t a useless emotion whose job is solely to torment us; it actually has a positive purpose. Shame can be an incredible guide and ally for us when we learn how it operates and why it shows up in our lives, then learn how to work it.

    The first barrier that we face in working with shame is that most of us are carrying too much of it.

    We have accumulated shame throughout our lives—shame that has perhaps been passed on to us by our families; shame that people have thrown at us because they couldn’t deal with their own; and the continuous drip that many of us experienced of being shamed as children, as our parents and caregivers might have used it as an easy and effective way to get us to do what they needed.

    There are myriad ways we accumulate shame, but we know that we have too much when we have this belief that we just aren’t good enough as human beings.

    When we accumulate too much shame but don’t know how to release it, it stays hidden within us, growing as we hide more of ourselves, judge more of ourselves, and continue to believe in the wrongness of who we are.

    We don’t ‘let shame out’ because shame is perhaps one of the most socially unacceptable emotions. If you are talking to friends and someone says, “Oh, I feel so guilty I missed that text you sent,” it would most likely be considered okay.

    But if you said, “I feel so ashamed of myself that I missed your text,” it would likely make the conversation awkward.

    People don’t talk about shame because that in itself can feel inherently shameful. It can activate other people’s shame, and it can add to our own expanse of shame when not properly handled. 

    There were many areas of my life where shame showed up. In my relationship, how I responded to my kids. I even started to notice intense shame when a childhood back injury would flare up, and I wouldn’t be able to walk properly. I would start feeling shame for not being mobile, like I needed to apologize for my injury.

    When I started learning about emotions, I realized how much I needed to unravel the shame I was carrying. So I made it my mission to learn and share everything I could so that I could start to live a life where I felt proud and free of who I was—not trying to make myself smaller or more acceptable, but brazenly free and confident instead. Here are some ideas to support you on your journey to healing and releasing shame.

    The Purpose of Shame

    Shame is a natural emotion that has a purpose, like all emotions. Shame’s job is to help us stay connected to our group by adhering to the group’s social rules, to keep us safe by being connected, and to ensure we stay in line with both the group and our own values and needs.

    For example, if we were told as children that we should be quiet, and at a family gathering we were very loud, shame might have appeared to remind us that our parents would be unhappy with us, so the shame would come to try to slow us down and not risk our connection.

    It makes sense for us to have these shame activations when we are children because our safety and survival relies on us staying in connection with our caregivers. But all too often we carry this shame from childhood into our adult life, where it inhibits us from thriving.

    Or as an adult, we’re going on holiday with a friend, and they suggest a much more expensive hotel than we’d normally pick. We start to feel uncomfortable and notice shame has arisen, and when we explore it, we see that shame is trying to remind us of our values of not spending our money in ways we don’t feel good about.

    This is where shame is trying to be our guide, our ally, so that we can retain both connection with our group and our ability to be authentic to our own needs and values.

    Of course, these shame activations don’t feel good, but when we learn why shame exists, it can support us to work with this emotion so it doesn’t feel so overwhelming.

    Shame Often Binds with Other Emotions

    Do you notice that when you feel certain emotions like fear or anger or grief, shame can appear as well? Like I feel bad for feeling how I am. That I shouldn’t be feeling angry, sad, lonely, fearful, etc.?

    This is because shame often binds with emotions that we might not have been allowed to feel as children, or we would get into trouble for. We might have been told off for feeling angry and shamed for doing so. So shame comes up to try and reduce the amount of anger we feel so we don’t get into trouble. And that pattern stays on into adulthood if we don’t recognize it and start to dismantle this shame bind.

    For me, I had a strong shame bind with fear. I would often be made fun of for always being a “scaredy cat” by my friends as a child, or told not to feel fear by the adults around me—that I was being silly.

    Shame identified fear as an emotion that caused problems in my relationships, so it would appear when fear came up to try and slow the fear down so I wouldn’t show it to other people, thereby protecting my relationships.

    How to Melt the Shame You Are Carrying

    Recognize it’s shame and not a factual report of all of your wrongdoings.

    For me, the first step in working with shame is recognizing that I am feeling shame, and that I am not getting a long, factual report of all the things I am doing wrong in my life.

    Shame is a lens that distorts our vision of ourselves. We don’t see who we really are when shame is activated within us.

    Ask yourself: What does shame feel like for me?

    Shame can feel like:

    • Being uncomfortable in your body.
    • Feeling shy and pulling away.
    • Having a flushed face.
    • Feeling tightness in your throat or nauseous.
    • Struggling to breathe.
    • Needing to look away; having trouble keeping eye contact.
    • Feeling like the bottom is falling out from underneath you.
    • Freezing, shutting down.
    • Being lost for words.

    What does shame feel like for you? What happens to your body when shame activates?

    The next step for me is noticing what I do when I feel shame. How do I respond?

    Potential reactions to shame include:

    • Putting yourself down.
    • Attacking or blaming others—trying to throw the shame onto someone else.
    • Suddenly forgetting what you are going to say.
    • Going blank or freezing.
    • Denying or avoiding.
    • Using an activity to numb out.
    • Withdrawing and pulling away or pulling in.
    • Wanting to disappear, vanish.

    For me, putting myself down and withdrawing from people are my two biggest reactions.

    When we know what it feels like for us, it’s easier to spot when it arises. And when we can acknowledge the shame we are experiencing, and not judge ourselves for having this very natural and normal human emotion, it can help us move out of the shame activation more quickly.

    Use gentle movement to move out of shame’s freeze qualities and connect to your body.

    When we experience shame, we often have this urge to shrink or disappear. And this comes with some rigid freezing sensations in the body. We can feel stuck in our bodies and find it hard to move.

    To support ourselves with this freezing, rigid state, we can offer ourselves some gentle, slow movement. Making sure we are staying connected to our breathing, and that we are indeed breathing, we can rock, sway, hug ourselves, move our hands, wrists, and arms—whatever feels both possible and positive in the moment.

    It can also feel very supporting to give ourselves some comforting physical touch—stroking our face and arms, putting a hand on our heart and giving ourselves a gentle rub, rubbing our arms and giving ourselves a hug, wrapping ourselves up in cozy scarves or blankets, offering gentle, kind, and loving physical support.

    Connect to your breath.

    Keeping in touch with our breath is vital. When we are emotionally overwhelmed, we can either hold our breath or have very shallow breathing, so taking some short inhales and long exhales can start our breathing again and also give us a sense of calm. (The long exhales activate the ‘rest and digest’ part of our nervous system.)

    Offer empathy, validation, and connection.

    All emotions yearn for empathy and validation. Emotions want to be acknowledged, to be seen, to be felt and heard. When we ignore our emotions, or judge ourselves for having them, we inhibit their ability to integrate and release from our bodies.

    Giving ourselves empathy in acknowledging our experience can be so soothing in the midst of a shame activation.

    “It’s so hard to feel all of the uncomfortableness of shame.”

    “It was so painful to feel so much shame around this experience. It makes so much sense though that I felt that.”

    “Shame isn’t easy for anyone to feel! I am going to stay and support myself while I move through this emotion.”

    Remember that curiosity is an antidote to shame.

    Curiosity is a very powerful tool to start melting shame. Curiosity can help us process and support any emotion, but it really supports us in working with shame.

    It feels pleasurable to be curious, so we can ask questions like: Might anyone else feels like this? What is happening to me? In my body? In my thoughts? How are my past experiences affecting how I am feeling now?

    It breaks some of the rigidity that shame creates with “always” and “never” statements: I am always getting this wrong. I never make any progress. I’m always a terrible person.

    When we start being curious and looking for new ideas, new ways of seeing, it can break us out of the tunnel vision, fixation part of shame. And when our vision expands, it feels better for our whole physiology.

    When we learn how to reduce the amount of shame we are carrying, as well as learn the message it’s trying to deliver, shame can be a powerful ally. It can show us where we are straying away from our authenticity and our own boundaries. It can remind us of what is important to us, and how we can stay in safe connection with each other.

    Learning the messages our emotions are trying to deliver is one of the most empowering journeys we can take toward self-healing, confidence, and authenticity.

  • Why I’m Now Welcoming My Anxiety with Open Arms

    Why I’m Now Welcoming My Anxiety with Open Arms

    “You are not your feelings. You just experience them. Anger, sadness, hate, depression, fear. This is the rain you walk in. But you don’t become the rain. You know the rain will pass. You walk on. And you remember the soft glow of the sun that will come again.” ~Matt Haig

    I have been anxious for as long as I can remember.

    All of my earliest memories are ones where I was worrying or fearful for one reason or another.

    Thinking back, the first memory I have that is akin to that of an actual anxiety disorder, meaning that the anxiety was interfering with my day-to-day life, was when I was in the first grade and I simply refused to use the computers in the computer lab at school because I was scared of breaking them. It wasn’t just a fear of breaking it; it was the full-blown rabbit hole that my thoughts took me down because of it.

    I worried that if I used the computer, then it would break, then the teacher would yell at me, then I would get suspended, then I would get in trouble with my parents, then they would get into a fight, and then they would break up, and then it would be my fault. And that’s not even the end of the cycle! There were other twists and turns that led to other irrational potential consequences as well.

    I never thought to talk to anybody about troubling thoughts that I was having because I assumed it was normal, that all of my classmates felt the same.

    I have always been a quiet and reserved person. The people around me never let me forget about it either. Even in high school classes, the attention would get focused on me and why I wasn’t talking and laughing with the rest of the kids during group work. Class presentations? Forget about it.

    I always took the failing grade on those assignments.

    I finally saw a psychiatrist when I was sixteen because I did eventually open up to my mother about my issues. There have been numerous medication changes over the years, as sometimes I would get nasty side effects from them, or they just plain didn’t work.

    To be honest, I have never been entirely sure that they have been effective at all. When I voiced this concern to my psychiatrist, she told me flat out that given my history, trauma, and personality, my anxiety was most likely going to be a lifelong condition. I instantly went into denial mode.

    However, she did set me up with a therapist who worked in the outpatient clinic whom I met with several times. Because it was only a short-term thing, we didn’t get to delve deep into my issues, but he gave me tools that actually helped. Even though I have struggled to implement them off and on over the years, I do believe they hold weight.

    All of the brief and very infrequent periods of relative calmness in my life were achieved from remembering these two things.

    The only way to beat anxiety is to accept it and face it. If there was one thing that the therapist made sure to cement in my mind, it was to never run away from it. In fact, he encouraged me to invite it on purpose. At the time I was too immature to understand it. It sounded like a terrible idea. Why would I want to purposely feel like that?

    If you do wind up avoiding the things or situations that trigger your anxiety, it will grow over time and become even harder to contain.

    I remember leaving that appointment feeling like there was some type of parasite living inside my mind. A parasite that feeds on fear, and if I wasn’t careful it would grow into this giant monster that would swallow me whole!

    Flash-forward a few years to when I have a little bit more life experience, some jobs under my belt, some education to complete, a.k.a. real chances to face my anxiety… and I have come to understand what he was talking about.

    Today, I have fully accepted that I am an anxious person. I fully accept that I will always be a little reserved and cautious and live with a tendency to overthink things.

    For example, just last week at work my manager took a phone call and I immediately thought it was about me. My mind led me down that all too familiar rabbit hole. Instantly, the thoughts began flooding my mind.

    It went like this: They have finalized the decision. I am a horrible employee and am about to get fired. I will no longer have an income, and I will lose my apartment. Next, my girlfriend will break up with me, and after that I will die alone on the street, and no one will ever remember me.

    Of course there were other scenarios and weird consequences that my mind conjured up. I liken the experience to some twisted “choose your own adventure story.”

    In reality, the phone call didn’t even have anything to do with me, and the rest of my day just went on as normal. I didn’t die. The world didn’t explode. I didn’t lose my mind. And I didn’t get screamed at.

    It was just the anxiety talking, and I accept that.

    I now know that it can’t hurt me, and it doesn’t make me a bad person. I know that I can be successful in whatever endeavors I embark on in life. I will just have to work a little harder than some people to overcome my own worst enemy… my mind.

    Just like the therapist had explained all those years ago, accepting my anxiety has weirdly taken away its power. It no longer has the grip on me that it once had. It is what it is. It is never EVER going away, so why fight it? I have already hit rock bottom several times thanks to my anxiety, and did it kill me? No, I survived and got back up and kept pushing.

    The best mindset that I have adopted for myself is that my thoughts simply do not define me. Plain and simple. I know that I am going to be anxious whether I DO, and I know that I will be anxious whether I DON’T, so, what the hell, I might as well DO.

    And that right there is the key! Despite that terrible, gut-wrenching sense of terror and unease, you still have control. You have the power to act in opposition to how you feel.

    It’s easier said than done, believe me. But whatever it is that you are scared of facing, don’t put it off any longer. Just do it. It’s the only way that you will eventually realize that in the end, everything will be okay.

    Sure, you might still be anxious, but it will slowly and surely lose its grip on you.

    I forget where I read it, but I saw a quote where somebody said that anxiety is the disease of missed opportunity, and I have never related to anything more in my life.

    I have missed out on countless opportunities in life, some potential life-long memories that I will forever regret missing out on.

    Life is short. It is too beautiful to shy away from. I don’t want to miss any more. From here on out, I am choosing to fight my anxiety by welcoming it with open arms.

  • How to Feel More in Control in Life in Four Steps

    How to Feel More in Control in Life in Four Steps

    “You may not be able to control every situation and its outcome, but you can control how you deal with it.” ~Unknown

    Life is often crazy and rushed. Sometimes it’s difficult to feel a sense of control. It can be utterly chaotic and leave us feeling lost.

    This is exactly where I was two years ago. I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life. I felt hopeless, directionless, and completely lost pretty much every day.

    I didn’t feel like I had a grip on anything in my life, including my thoughts, emotions, and actions.

    I had just returned from the local doctor, a prescription of antidepressants in hand and the first pill on its way down my throat, when something dawned on me.

    I realized that this was not the answer. I realized that thinking a drug would fix all of my issues was not only a false fantasy, but it was also extremely ironic. Because by taking them, I was actively choosing to worsen the cause of my issues.

    By taking the drug, I’d be sacrificing even more of my freedom and control. I’d essentially be putting the fate of my future into the hands of a daily dose of pills.

    I am not saying antidepressants are bad, nor am I suggesting that anyone should stop taking them, as they can be beneficial to many people’s mental health. They were simply something I realized I could avoid taking by instead addressing my problem in an alternative way.

    I believe it was at this very moment that everything changed for me. It was then that I realized that I was the cause of my problems, and only I could be the solution, so the journey began.

    Since then, I’ve been the happiest I have ever been, with a newfound sense of control and an unshakable feeling of self-belief.

    These are the four ways I managed to obtain this sense of control. I hope these steps can help you do the same.

    1. Taking Responsibility

    Taking responsibility is one of the most important things a person can do, but it might not be what you think. What was the first thing that came to mind when thinking about taking responsibility? Is it owning up to your negative behavior? Is it admitting when you’ve done wrong?

    I’d like to instead focus instead on the things that are not your fault.

    This might leave you confused at first. You might be wondering why anyone would take responsibility for things they haven’t caused.

    Just because something isn’t directly your fault, it doesn’t mean you can’t take responsibility for it. In my case, I was blaming my childhood and upbringing for the way I felt. I thought that because certain things had happened to me, and they were not my fault, I was somehow entitled to stew in my feelings and react negatively to them.

    But who does this type of mentality benefit? It certainly didn’t benefit me. In order to get better, I had to take responsibility for the way I was. Only then could any meaningful change occur.

    I’m not saying you should blame yourself. This actually eliminates blame altogether, because it doesn’t matter who’s at fault. If you’re the one suffering the consequences, you’re also the one who needs to take responsibility for them.

    The moment something negative has happened, it is done; it can’t be changed. Thus, the only thing left for you to do is deal with the consequences the best you can. Refuse to be left bitter and resentful and, instead, learn and grow.

    The next time something negative happens in your life, ask yourself, “Am I dealing with this in the best possible way?”

    2. Doing Hard Things

    The moment I started doing hard things, my life started to change for the better.

    Life is difficult, and as far as I’m aware, it’s always going to be. Have you ever met or heard of someone who has been through some extremely tough times throughout their life? These people are always very mentally strong, and less affected by tough times.

    The bad news is we can’t fake these sorts of tough times, nor can we recreate them. But we can raise our standard of difficulty in other ways. I mean, people have literally built a building and put a bunch of heavy metal things in it for others to come to pay and lift them.

    I’m not saying you have to go to the gym; I’m simply saying that to become less affected by life’s inevitable attacks, we can actively increase our tolerance for discomfort so that when they do come, we are much less affected.

    This gives us control, as we can’t prevent life from hurting us, but we can actively choose to reduce the pain it causes.

    Some examples of hard things I started to do included running, taking cold showers and ice baths, and following a healthier diet.

    Start implementing daily hard things into your routine, and you’ll notice the difference.

    3. All Wins Are The Same 

    When pursuing a goal, it’s very easy to get caught up thinking about achieving it, but this only results in an overwhelming sense of distance between you and the goal. You’d be much better off focusing smaller. Instead of comparing who you are now with your ideal self, focus on the very next thing that will move you closer to the person you want to be.

    Doing this not only removes that feeling of distance, but it will also constantly make you feel like a winner. And trust me, all wins are the same, so you might as well celebrate them all.

    What do I mean by all wins are the same?

    There is a concept I have recently been interested in, which is the hedonic treadmill.

    According to Wikipedia, “The hedonic treadmill, also known as hedonic adaptation, is the observed tendency of humans to quickly return to a relatively stable level of happiness despite major positive or negative events or life changes.”

    This means we get used to things very quickly. So let’s say your goal is to lose fifty pounds. Losing the first pound is the same as losing the fiftieth.

    Equally, it’s the same if your goal is to reach a million subscribers or to earn your first one million pounds (or dollars).

    To lose fifty pounds, you must have already lost forty-nine. To reach one million subscribers or your first one million pounds/dollars, you must at some point be at the number 999,999.

    I’m not underestimating these achievements—not at all. And I’m also not saying you shouldn’t have big goals.

    But I’m saying the value that comes from them only comes from the context that is applied to them. People fail to understand that the value attached to the goal was given by a past version of themselves, whereas a completely different version has experienced them, so essentially, the value has gone.

    The version of you that sets the target and the version of you that reaches it are used to two completely different standards. By being able to reach your goal, you have subsequently removed all value from it.

    The difference between 999,999 and 1 million is 0.0001%, yet quite literally no one celebrates reaching the former.

    This is the reason why people feel so empty when they finally reach their goals.

    To avoid this, and to constantly feel like a winner, you should focus on the very next step and celebrate every win.

    4. Discipline = Freedom 

    You’ve probably heard of discipline and all of its benefits many times before, as it is a crucial thing to adopt if you want to be successful at anything in life. However, I’m going to be talking about a positive aspect of discipline that no one knows or talks about.

    And that’s the sense of freedom that comes with it.

    There is an obvious way that discipline leads to freedom: By avoiding procrastination and getting tasks done immediately, we end up having more time.

    But there is a more profound sense of freedom that discipline gives us.

    As I have already mentioned, we’ll all inevitably experience feelings of discomfort in life, often from things completely out of our control.

    Now, let’s say you let these feelings stop you from doing what you know you should do. You’re letting external circumstances dictate how and where your life goes.

    Having the discipline to continue doing what needs to be done regardless of external situations or the feelings that might ensue will give you the most profound sense of freedom.

    Without discipline in these situations, you’re essentially losing all sense of control.

    One of the biggest things I felt when I started to build discipline, although I didn’t know it at the time, was a wave of freedom I had never felt before.

    Externally, everything in my life was exactly the same—nothing on the outside had changed. Yet everything on the inside had. I felt free. Being in control of your life means everything suddenly no longer feels permanent and you no longer feel helpless.

    As mentioned above, doing hard things is a great way to build discipline, as you’ll most likely feel like doing these the least. But discipline can also be built by the smaller and more mundane things, like waking up earlier or refusing to snooze, starting a daily meditation practice, or replacing endless scrolling with learning a language.

    These are some of the small things I used to build more discipline. Yours could look completely different. The trick is to find something productive that’s a challenge to be persistent with—then a sense of control and a feeling of freedom will follow.

  • How to Be Brave and Speak up Early in the Conversation

    How to Be Brave and Speak up Early in the Conversation

    “Fear is a reaction. Courage is a decision.” ~Winston S. Churchill

    In a recent episode involving a field trip my daughter is taking, I found myself at a crossroads, grappling with the fear of expressing concerns early in a conversation. As a parent, I highly value my children’s growth but struggle with the balance of asserting my needs without risking relationships.

    The plans felt, on first reading, overly ambitious, so I wanted more information and I wanted to be able to express myself and feel heard. I highly value situations where my kids have opportunities to overcome challenges and build some confidence and resilience, but I also want to make sure they are actually capable of the challenges.

    I know that all sounds perfectly reasonable, and it is, except one thing: I’ve never really been good at presenting my needs early in a conversation. Usually I wait in fear of damaging the relationship and only come in confidently once there is really something to complain about.

    I’ve read books and taken courses that have taught me practical skills for having hard conversations, but the truth is, in the absence of something that has made me really angry, they have always terrified me.

    Now that I have done a lot of inner personal work, I can quite easily see and share that I was hesitant to express myself because I didn’t want to create a rift in the relationship. That person is quite an important figure in my child’s life. I was also hesitant because there was no anger present to fuel my courage.

    Yet, as a parent, I know my involvement and advocacy can contribute positively to my children’s development, but I’ve learned it needs a thoughtful approach. That is often much easier when there is space and time for building trust in those relationships with people, where tone, body language, and repeated successful interactions can go a long way.

    In this case, the person organizing the itinerary is generally not available for casual conversation because they are incredibly busy. Therefore, any questions are automatically more formal, as they have to be expressed in writing.

    The other dynamic going on for me, which is now much easier to see after years of personal work, is that this person has a tendency to be quite bossy and, with being so busy, I fear that any kind of concern raised will be deemed criticism and set off an angry or defensive response and rupture the relationship.

    This isn’t because I’ve experienced this with this particular person. It has far more to do with childhood patterning that has been reinforced through other experiences in adulthood.

    The fear I feel is an old one, trying to keep me safe. It’s my nervous system and neurobiology saying, “We know these warning signs. The bossy lady will broker no criticism and there will be trouble, and that isn’t good because her relationship is critical to your/your children’s survival.”

    Of course that isn’t true, and as an adult, when I look at it through this lens, I can see it’s not a mature response. But I can assure you, even with the knowledge that the inner nervous system responses and chemicals released that once kept me safe are now outdated, and the knowledge that then is not now, the panic still rises.

    I spent some time crafting what I wanted to say. I spent even more time revising it so it was balanced, concise, and rational (and thank goodness I now have ChatGPT to help me with this). I then sense-checked it with trusted friends to make sure it expressed my concerns in a balanced, respectful way.

    Despite all that, as I went to press the send button, I paused as panic rose. If I could put words to that panic, it would say, “Wait! This could break the relationship, and then you’ll be in trouble.” The implied meaning of “trouble” is unclear, but my nervous system clearly thinks it’s life or death.

    This journey to assertiveness then took an unexpected turn when an upsetting incident unfolded right outside my home just as my finger was hovering over the send key.

    A father and his two young kids stopped. The kids were maybe three or four years old, and the little girl was crying and protesting at going any further, clearly just wrung out. It was teatime, and the kids were on their little bikes.

    The dad, perhaps in his early thirties, was walking. He looked average height—though certainly, to his kids looking up at him from their bikes, he would look like a giant—and looked quite athletic in his build with his T-shirt and cap on.

    After a few minutes, the dad lost his temper. Rather than console and provide encouragement to his daughter, he yelled, “Shut up!” at her quite cruelly. He went on to rant and threaten never to bring them out again if this was the way the way they were going to behave. Then he turned to the little girl from his lofty position and pointed at her yelling, “You’re acting like a baby! Stop it!” several times.

    I froze, and then I thought, “Do I intervene here?” I knew I was witnessing a dad in his own trauma state, doing to his kids what had likely been done to him. As Dr. Gabor Maté says, “It is often not our children’s behavior but our inability to tolerate their negative responses that creates difficulties. The only thing the parent needs to gain control over is our own anxiety and lack of self-control.”

    If I were to intervene, the first thing I would have to do is help the dad regulate his nervous system, to feeler calmer and disarm him.

    For that, I would need to call upon my inner Christian Conte, author of Walking Through Anger: A New Design for Confronting Conflict in an Emotionally Charged World. Not at that advanced stage of my communicating journey, I decided to opt for physical presence and a friendly smile to reassure the kids as they continued on their journey around the corner. But when I stepped outside, they’d gone.

    I sat and reflected on what had just happened, my own nervous system in a state of flux from overhearing the interaction. I felt deeply upset and realized, as I sat down, I was a bit shaky. I listened as my heartbeat eventually slowed and hearing returned to my ears. I once again felt present and calm in my environment. Then I called a friend to talk it over.

    Eventually, as my thoughts turned back to what I’d been doing before that upsetting interruption, I turned back to my email.

    Knowing I’m not the helpless child listening to a misdirected outburst from an adult anymore, I did what I knew I had to do to assuage my own inner child and advocate for my daughter. I had to put my big girl pants on for real and be the rational adult. I knew I hadn’t written anything I’d regret. I knew I’d been balanced and clear. I pressed send.

    It’s worked out well. My concerns have been addressed, and I feel heard and more confident about the itinerary.

    In my fifties, I’m finally learning how to present my needs much earlier in the conversation. My life has been prompting me to learn that lesson over and over in every interaction that went sideward.

    I see it in my own children’s experiences in adolescence, the way they are drawn to certain people who are challenging them to learn how to assert themselves respectfully.

    It’s taken a while, and it’s taken me stepping back to understand my reactions more and to learn the skills I need to hear myself, calm myself, and be compassionate with myself.

    How do you navigate conversations that require assertiveness? What fears or patterns might be holding you back?

    Learning to speak up early in the conversation is not just a personal journey but a valuable skill that fosters healthy relationships and gives you the ability to advocate for yourself and your loved ones. And if not now, when?

  • The Gift of Self-Acceptance: Goodbye Filters, Hello Authentic Self

    The Gift of Self-Acceptance: Goodbye Filters, Hello Authentic Self

    “Beauty doesn’t come from physical perfection. It comes from the light in our eyes, the spark in our hearts, and the radiance we exude when we’re comfortable enough in our skin to focus less on how we look and more on how we love.” ~Lori Deschene

    Swiping though the various filters available, I saw my face go from mine to someone else’s—to someone with better skin, bigger eyes… Oooh look, I think this one makes my face look slimmer. Hello, cheekbones!

    As someone who hated having her picture taken and was utterly convinced that she looked beyond awful in photos, I suddenly saw an easy fix to look good on camera.

    When I first started showing up online for my business in 2020, Instagram Reels had just been launched. It was declared an absolute must to record content as a business owner, and filters were simply a part of it. Harmless fun designed to inspire and create.

    However, as someone who had worn a lifelong “introvert” badge, and with more insecurities than I cared to admit at that point in time, the discomfort I felt showing up in these videos was beyond excruciating.

    As a child raised in an extremely unstable environment, without ever hearing the words “I love you” or feeling in any way that I belonged, I had somewhat unsurprisingly grown into an insecure young woman who had come to rely on validation through physical appearance. A pattern that I was most certainly repeating from my own mother, who was never seen looking anything less than.

    Also, a series of  events in my chaotic childhood had left me with a severe abandonment wound, and I had struggled deeply with “not enoughness” for as long as I could remember.

    And though I had since spent years doing the work to heal myself through the teachings of incredible women such as Louise Hay and Brené Brown, showing up online was about to open a wound that I thought had long healed.

    In my early twenties I used makeup as a mask, refusing to leave the house without an immaculately applied full face of war paint, and never under any circumstances taking it off in front of anyone. So utterly convinced that I was unlovable, with a desire to look perfect for approval, I had inadvertently created a reality in which I had to look a certain way, all the time.

    It was exhausting.

    After spending years working hard to cultivate a deeper connection with myself and striving to detach my self-worth from my appearance, I have since enjoyed a much healthier relationship with makeup.

    I now see my body as a temple, to adorn as I so wish, because I desire it and not because I feel I have to for acceptance or validation. Makeup has now become a creative ritual that brings me joy, an extension of my personality, creativity, and individuality.

    I felt as if I‘d reached a healthy turning point of this chapter in life—until I started creating content.

    As  mumma and stepmumma to a blended family of five, then in my early thirties, I felt daunted stepping out into an online world in which everyone appeared to be a flawless twenty-two-year-old yoga instructor dancing a “how to” tutorial to the latest trending audio.

    There was absolutely no way I was dancing, but using a filter? That I could do.

    I carefully selected one that didn’t dramatically alter my features but undeniably made me look younger, with the same clear, smooth skin as the aforementioned twenty-two-year-old. I then proceeded to use the exact same filter for three years for every single photograph and video. Over and over again, until I wasn’t just using it for online purposes; I was using it as standard practice in my day-to-day life.

    It wasn’t until a couple of years later that I realized something quite sinister had been subconsciously at play.

    Initially, I tried convincing myself that filters were effectively digital makeup, designed to enhance a video the way a photographer does a photograph. But it began to feel different, and yet all so familiar.

    It felt like hiding.

    My first indication that the use of filters was clearly affecting my well-being was when I refused to have a photograph taken without one.

    Red Flag Number One

    More feelings of discomfort began to tug at me after attending a festival as a speaker one summer and meeting people whom I’d developed connections with online. Only I had the awkwardness of not fully recognizing them. I found myself searching for something familiar in their faces, almost cartoon like, squinting my eyes and slightly tilting my head to one side as I saw them approaching from across the room.

    I realized that they didn’t quite look like themselves, at least the version of them I had become accustomed to seeing online. This quickly was followed by a nervous feeling as I pondered the question “What if I don’t look like myself?!”

    Red Flag Number Two

    While the obvious solution here was to stop using filters, I felt trapped in a web of my own making, and old feelings of insecurity and the fear of not being good enough began to creep in. I deeply struggled to marry these feeling up with my own values as a staunch advocate for empowering women to develop self-love and self-belief.

    How could I possibly align these actions with my deepest values? How could I record videos trying to encourage women to believe in themselves when the whole time I was too scared to hit “record” without a filter?

    The hypocrisy was not lost on me. I knew in my heart that my values would have to defeat my vanity, and that it was only a matter of time before I had to change my approach and show up as myself, unfiltered.

    Red Flag Number Three

    This was to be my final red flag—misalignment of values.

    With my thirty-seventh birthday approaching, and a little voice inside saying ”It’s time” getting louder, I gave myself the greatest gift I could have possibly given myself.

    The gift of true self-acceptance. The gift to show up online as the most authentic version of myself.

    The gift of finally healing that old perfection wound and fully detaching my self-worth from my physical appearance.

    The gift of showing up filter-free.

    To some, this may seem insignificant. But to me, the girl who had struggled so deeply with insecurities for as long as she could remember, the girl who had worn these filters as a mask and for approval, this was a monumental breakthrough and a big fat tick in the box marked “be yourself.”

    One step closer to me, and a whole lot closer to being in alignment with my own core values.

    I had anticipated a period of feeling slightly awkward, perhaps a little vulnerable to start with. But what I hadn’t in any way prepared for was a new wave of confidence, self-love, and self-acceptance.

    I felt liberated.

    As if unlocking a level on a video game, I felt as if I’d reached a brand-new level in my life. I began to get curious about why ditching filters had been such an issue. And then one day I asked myself a question that might just be one of the most important questions I’ve ever asked myself:

    Where else in my life am I wearing a filter?

    Where else in my life am I keeping my most authentic version at bay for fear of judgement, rejection, or even ridicule?

    Where else in my life am I hiding?

    There is much power to be found in the questions we ask when seeking answers that lie within.

    For me personally, such questions have led to a surge in my personal growth and self-acceptance along with my overall happiness and well-being. And with each question, its answer brings me closer to a version of myself that feels more and more like me with each passing day. From the clothes I wear, to the way I show up for myself and others, down to the energy I bring and my newfound freedom to create from the heart.

    It’s also been a beautiful reminder that the healing journey is exactly that, a journey. Not a destination. So I will continue to ask myself these questions. I will endeavor to remain curious and compassionate, not only in the pursuit of my most authentic self, but to also honor the practice of self-acceptance along the way.

  • How to Stop Prioritizing Everyone and Everything Else at Your Own Expense

    How to Stop Prioritizing Everyone and Everything Else at Your Own Expense

    “Agreeing to things just to keep the peace is actually a trauma response. When you do this you’re disrespecting your boundaries. No more making yourself uncomfortable for others to feel comfortable. You have control now. You run your life. Take up space and use your voice.” ~Dj Love Light

    I read the text from my stepmother inviting everyone to the holiday dinner at her house, and my stomach began to churn. I did not want to attend, but I was instantly flooded with guilt at the thought of saying no.

    “How to kindly decline an invite” I typed and hit search.

    I felt like I should go to their dinner, even though I didn’t want to. My stepparents were always disappointed when some of us RSVPed no. Would they be mad if I said no this time? Would they ask why my family couldn’t come?

    Also, my sister was coming to town for the holiday, and I didn’t want her to be disappointed that my family wasn’t there. All kinds of scenarios were playing out in my head, fueling my shame, while my guilt dug in its heels.

    The following day I replied to the group, “The Montgomerys can’t make it. Have a happy holiday,” and let out a nervous sigh while I tried to let myself off the hook. I’d been so overwhelmed lately; I just needed a break.

    I’ve spent most of my life being conditioned to believe that my needs do not matter. My mother got breast cancer when I was eight, and she and my stepfather kept it a secret to ‘protect’ the kids. All that did was rob me of being able to express my fears and be comforted.

    I was told to put a smile on my face when we’d visit her in the hospital—“Don’t cry. You don’t want to upset your mother”—teaching me that my sadness was irrelevant, and I should focus on my mother’s happiness instead.

    She died when I was twelve, and even then, as I sat in the backseat on the drive home, I was handed a tissue to wipe the tears off my face without so much as a hug or a comforting word.

    When my stepfather remarried, my stepmother’s narcissism only solidified the notion that my needs were unimportant. Her kids mattered; I did not. Her feelings took priority; mine were an inconvenience. I learned that conceding to my stepparents’ wants and preferences, even at my own discomfort, equaled safety.

    My stepparents were emotionally and verbally abusive. My stepfather was a screamer and used rage as a weapon. My stepmother was a narcissist with a powerful sense of entitlement and superiority. They demanded compliance.

    I buried my needs and made myself small as a means of survival. I became a people-pleaser to endure the trauma. I spent decades in survival mode, never having a voice, never taking up space.

    In my mid-thirties, I finally realized that the narrative I had been told, “you don’t matter,” simply wasn’t true. After years of therapy and establishing a happy, healthy family of my own, I came to understand that I do matter, and my needs are valid.

    Even into my adult years, with marriage and kids, I continued to try to foster a relationship with my stepparents. I tolerated their abuse and made excuses. “That’s just how they are,” or, “We have to go; they’re family.”

    I finally hit my breaking point after my stepparents stood me up for the second time. We were supposed to have lunch, and they didn’t show. It had happened the previous month as well, but I gave them the benefit of the doubt. This was the final straw.

    I had spent so much time and effort trying to get them to be a part of my and my children’s lives with invitations that were ignored, all while being required to show up for them whether it worked for our schedules or not.

    I decided that I would go low contact. I would no longer reach out to them and would only attend holidays or birthdays when I was available and felt like it. I did not want to go full no contact, because I still wanted to interact with my siblings and their families.

    The boundaries I put in place were extremely helpful. They decreased the harm my stepparents inflicted upon me and my family. Anytime we gathered with them, and a cruel comment or snarky remark was made, I found it had lost its power. Instead of bringing me to tears, I would now say, “That’s just how they are,” with a shrug and an eye roll.

    I refused to give my power away to them anymore. Their attempts to hurt me failed now. I no longer subscribe to their narrative of me.

    The boundaries and reclaiming my voice are now my norm; however, I still have moments when the feeling of I don’t matter creeps back in, and I go back to my factory setting of being a people-pleaser. Trauma is tricky that way.

    When I find myself in people-pleaser mode, shoving my needs aside to take care of everyone and everything else, those are the times when I need to remember how prioritizing others at my expense ends in exhaustion and resentment. I remind myself that I have control of my life, I matter, and my needs are valid.

    Prioritizing your needs and developing boundaries can be daunting when you are not accustomed to using your voice and taking up space. To stop putting others’ comfort above your own, try the following.

    1. Assess the situation.

    • Check in with yourself: How are you feeling? Are your needs being met?
    • If/then: If you are exhausted and your needs are not being met, then what needs to change?
    • Be mindful: What people/places are challenging for you?

    2. Create an actionable plan.

    • Having my needs met looks like: going for a daily walk and saying no when I’m overwhelmed.
    • Challenging people/places: Establish boundaries and eliminate toxic environments.
    • Reminders: Be kind to yourself, respond as if you were talking with a friend, and no shaming.

    3. Adjust and continue.

    • What worked: Setting a boundary of helping neighbor only when free went well.
    • What went wrong: Family getting upset with boundary caused guilt and shame.
    • Pivot: Practice giving yourself grace and remember that “No” is a complete sentence.
    • Learn: It gets easier; you can do it again; you are not responsible for other’s reactions.

    The saying “you can’t pour from an empty cup” is popular for a reason. Give yourself some grace as you reclaim your value and worth. Use your voice and take up space. You matter.