Tag: wisdom

  • How to Recognize a Toxic Relationship and Know When It’s Time to Leave

    How to Recognize a Toxic Relationship and Know When It’s Time to Leave

    “Your heart knows the way. Run in that direction.” ~Rumi

    Have you ever found yourself questioning the health of your relationship, unsure if what you’re experiencing is normal or if it’s veering into toxic territory? It’s a common dilemma that many of us face at some point in our lives.

    But how do we know when it’s time to walk away?

    Toxic relationships can be insidious, often starting out innocently enough before gradually morphing into something destructive and harmful. The warning signs may be subtle at first, but they can become impossible to ignore over time.

    Flashback to 2016, I was traveling the world with my best friend. I was having so much fun at only twenty-one, and the whole trip felt like a dream.

    One night on my twenty-first birthday, I met a beautiful local boy playing drums in a bar. We had a magnetic and electrifying connection, and it really felt like we were soul mates.

    He was kind, sensitive, and understanding. He looked after me, too, buying me food and coconuts when I said I was hungry. I fell madly in love.

    But time passed, and the relationship came to a heartbreaking end when I realized I couldn’t live there forever. I had to go to university and go back to see my family.

    Seven years passed, and we both had fleeting lovers but kept in contact. Neither of us ever found a connection with another like ours.

    He was my reference point. The one I compared everyone to. “But they don’t love me like he did!” I was frequently in tears, at least once a month, even seven years on, to my parents. Crying my little heart out, petrified that I would never find a love like him again.

    Fast-forward to this past year, and I had the opportunity to go back. We said we were going to be best friends… but obviously, that didn’t happen. We immediately fell straight back into our deep love for one another.

    It was wild to think that after seven years, we were back here again, still tangled up together and wanting this to work.

    The first few weeks were perfect. Full of so much love, joy, and laughter. Until we went out one night, and we were both very drunk. I saw a side to him I never had seen before.

    He got so angry with me for no reason, blaming my culture for ruining their culture, and was so fuming mad that I started to become really scared.

    Who is this person? Why is he so angry? Have I triggered this? What did I do wrong?

    I went to bed feeling pretty gobsmacked and terrified about what I had just witnessed and prayed that it was a one-time, drunken mistake.

    But as much as I tried to tell myself that, the gut-sinking feeling in my stomach had already begun.

    I wish I had a happier story to tell, but frankly, I do not.

    We carried on full of love and magic but also with these drunk outbursts of anger and deep, deep resentment, clearly caused by a lot of unresolved relationships and cultural trauma.

    I found myself constantly trying to mediate the situation and calm him down. That was draining.

    On top of that, I was trying to navigate how someone who claimed they loved me more than anything in the world could use such violent words toward me and belittle my character as much as he was doing.

    I felt confused and heartbroken.

    What is this? Who is this? Is it me? Am I to blame? Is this the man I have loved all these years? Do I even know this man at all?

    These are some of the heart-wrenching questions you might ask yourself if you start to suspect that your relationship is turning toxic or you are starting to see surprising acts of violence from your partner.

    There is no feeling in the world more intense than that of shock, disappointment, guilt, fear, and heartbreak rolled into one.

    And the longer you stay, the harder it gets to leave, more often than not.

    So, what are the warning signs you should look out for?

    Lack of Respect and Boundaries

    This is one of the earliest red flags. In a healthy relationship, both partners should, at the very least, feel valued, heard, and respected. If you find yourself constantly feeling belittled, criticized, or invalidated by your partner, it may be a sign that the relationship has become toxic.

    Manipulation and Control

    Another common warning sign is manipulation and control. Toxic partners may use guilt, coercion, or emotional blackmail to get their way, leaving you feeling powerless and trapped. They may also isolate you from friends, family, and social situations, making it difficult for you to seek support or perspective outside of the relationship.

    Erosion of Self-Esteem and Self-Worth

    Perhaps one of the most insidious aspects of toxic relationships is the gradual erosion of self-esteem and self-worth. Over time, you may find yourself doubting your own judgment, questioning your reality, and feeling unworthy of love and respect. This can make it incredibly difficult to leave, even when you know deep down that the relationship is unhealthy.

    So how do you know when it’s time to leave?

    While the decision to end a relationship is deeply personal and nuanced, there are some clear signs that it may be time to walk away.

    Trust your Instincts

    First and foremost, trust your instincts. If something doesn’t feel right, it probably isn’t. Listen to that inner voice telling you that you deserve better and that you’re worthy of love and respect.

    Pay Attention to Your Emotions

    Pay attention to how you feel in the relationship. Are you happy and fulfilled, or do you constantly feel drained, anxious, and unhappy? Your emotional well-being should always be a top priority.

    Look for their Patterns

    Look for patterns of behavior that are unlikely to change. While people can and do change, it’s important to recognize when your partner’s actions are consistently harmful and toxic. Suppose you’ve tried to address the relationship issues, but nothing has improved. In that case, it may be time to consider walking away.

    Realizing this is what compelled me to finally walk away from my relationship. Desperately wanting someone to change is just fear, trying to hold onto hope.

    Above all, remember that you deserve to be in a relationship that brings out the best in you, not one that diminishes your worth and undermines your happiness.

    It takes tremendous courage to leave a toxic relationship, but the freedom and peace that come with reclaiming your life are worth it.

    Recognizing a toxic relationship and finding the courage to leave is a profoundly personal journey. Trust yourself, prioritize your well-being, and know that you deserve love and respect. The path to healing and happiness may be challenging, but it’s always within reach.

  • The Beauty in the Broken: How to Celebrate the Fragility of Life

    The Beauty in the Broken: How to Celebrate the Fragility of Life

    “Sometimes you get what you want. Other times, you get a lesson in patience, timing, alignment, empathy, compassion, faith, perseverance, resilience, humility, trust, meaning, awareness, resistance, purpose, clarity, grief, beauty, and life. Either way, you win.” ~Brianna Wiest

    Last month, I was feeling super fragile.

    I was deep in the woes of another round of covid type symptoms, along with an onslaught of chronic health conditions that were flaring up left, right, and center. I was one month into a new job, and after the initial excitement, I was starting to feel wildly overwhelmed.

    I spent two weeks waking up with what felt like an axe through my forehead, a body of muscles that were continually twisting and contorting, along with a heavy mind and a tired heart.

    My mind was fuzzy and my balance completely off kilter; no matter how hard I tried to pull my body out of bed, my bones wanted to collapse into a pile of rubble. It was time to be broken down and rebuilt.

    The Beauty of Fragile Things

    December came and went, and I spent the majority of it at home alone, downing vitamin drinks.

    I wobbled my way through my second month at work, but missed out on all the fun; gatherings with friends, a once-in a-lifetime retreat experience with work, and all the things that usually make me feel good fell to the side. It was a matter of eat, sleep, repeat.

    On the day of the retreat, I woke up feeling super low. My head was still banging, and my mind began to spiral. I had hit my upper limit. My tolerance for pain is super high, having experienced chronic health conditions for the past decade of my life, but the addition of a flu had tipped me over the edge.

    I so desperately wanted to be at the retreat and to connect with my new colleagues. I wanted to see my family and friends. I wanted to go back to the gym and feel good again.

    However, my only mission for that day was to make it to the shops to get some food.

    I wobbled out of the house and into my van, starting the engine with a sigh. The rain hammered down and the wind picked up—a storm was brewing.

    Halfway down the lane, I took my foot off the pedal and stopped dead in my tracks.

    Was I dreaming? Or perhaps hallucinating?

    Before my eyes was the most beautiful blue bird I had ever seen; turquoise feathers ruffled amongst a burnt orange chest, rainbows glinting from a technicolor body—plucked from a tropical rainforest and dropped into my existence. My heart gulped as I witnessed it float down a small stream, struggling to survive with a bent wing and wonky legs, its beady eyes and long black beak begging me for help.

    I burst into tears. Here was the most beautiful little creature I had ever seen; why was life so cruel?

    The flood gates opened, and this little guy made me feel everything that I had been holding back: a lifetime of dealing with chronic health conditions, holding my broken body together and becoming infinitely resilient to my own detriment. Becoming chronically positive to deal with the negative.

    But here was such a beautiful thing.

    The fragility of this little bird hit me hard. I felt simultaneously touched and heartbroken, giving thanks for our chance meeting while cursing at life and its bittersweet narrative. This bird said it all.

    Out of the Depths and Into the Light

    Suddenly, I snapped out of my bittersweet story and put my own experiences to the side.

    This little guy needed help, and he needed it now.

    Despite my dizzy head, I gently crouched down and scooped him up into a box, his beak squeaking as I told him everything was going to be okay. He was out of the storm and in the warmth of my van.

    We drove down the bumpy lane together. He was flapping and squawking, and I was bawling.

    Fifteen minutes later, we were at the vets. I handed over his tiny little body, as the receptionists cooed over his beauty and fragility and told me he was, in fact, a kingfisher.

    I gave thanks to this creature for reminding me that broken is beautiful; for it is in the broken that we find the depths of our feelings and the truth of our hearts.

    I’m sad to share that this little guy didn’t make it, but he experienced his final moments with love and warmth. There was no way I could have left him alone and cold in a wild, windswept storm.

    But this little guy moved me greatly. He reminded me that life is filled with beautiful moments and shimmers of light, even when it feels we are passing through dark, stormy skies.

    And so, I awoke from my spiral; weeks’ worth of self-pity and sadness lifted from my chest.

    My body may be broken, but I was doing my best.

    The Beating of a Fragile Heart

    December passed, and I lifted from the storm. Life wasn’t perfect, but my perspective had shifted.

    While I was still waking up with a plethora of weird aches and pains, I felt hopeful.

    I was back at work and back at the gym, and spring was on the horizon; I looked forward to the sunlight streaming in through my window and found peace in watching the moonlight shine through my skylight.

    But little did I know, the lesson wasn’t complete.

    I was to experience yet another round of beauty laced with fragility; grief was about to hit.

    In the second of week of January, I had another visit to the vets.

    This time with my gorgeous Persian cat, Basil.

    I adopted Basil two years ago, and he lovingly joined me on this happy-go-lucky, topsy-turvy journey called life. Basil is my source of light; he is a creature of comfort and character, and the source of much laughter. He has traveled with me in times of great change, through one of the most difficult heartbreaks of my life, and always makes me smile.

    Basil had been acting a bit strange for a few weeks, and after many tests it was suggested that he needed a scan of his heart. And so, we rocked up, Basil meowing and me feeling confident that he was fine. It was just a cold; surely he would be alright?

    Wrong. After his beautiful locks had been shaved, the vet returned with the results with a concerned look upon his face. My heart sank into my chest, and I prepared myself for the worst.

    Basil had hypertrophic cardiomyopathy; he was only two-and-a-half years old, but the disease had progressed rapidly. I was told he didn’t have long left to live.

    My body started shaking, and I lost it completely.

    I broke down in front of the vet and everything fell out.

    “He can’t have a heart condition this bad. I have a heart condition, and I knew he had a heart condition but not this bad. We’ve been through so much together. I get him, and he gets me. I can’t lose him. Please tell me it’s not true. I can’t lose him. I can’t lose him.”

    The vet said nothing, and I watched his eyes fill with tears.

    “I’m so sorry,” he said. “But there’s nothing we can do.”

    The bombshell dropped, and I walked out into the car park, struggling to breathe.

    The Complexity of Loving Fragile Things

    I spent the rest of that day wailing harder than I had wailed in years. My heart imploded and exploded; a supernova of anger at stupid f**king life and a tidal wave of grief. I didn’t understand why Basil had come into my life if he was just going to be taken away, so early and so brutally.

    I got home, looked at my housemate, and said, “What is the point? What is the point of loving something that is just going to be taken away? What is the point of this life and all this f**king pain?”

    She looked at me with holes in her heart, feeling the depths of my love, having just recently lost a precious pet herself. For a moment, she said nothing and then the wisdom hit.

    “If you hadn’t loved him, who would have? Who would have taken care of him like you did? You got to experience all that love with him, and he got to experience all that love with you. You have given him the best life possible, and that’s such a beautiful thing.”

    And she was right. Adopting Basil was one of the best decisions I had ever made.

    Even though it hurt like hell, I had experienced more love, more laughter, and more presence with this little furball than I had have experienced before. So many moments, with so many housemates. This bundle of joy had brightened up more than just my life—he had brightened up my world.

    Celebrating Our Fragile World

    It is not just my life that is fragile, not the kingfisher’s, or my baby Basil’s. It is yours and mine and the world’s at large.

    This month has continued to bathe me in the lesson of fragility and acceptance; humility hits me as I listen to stories of young bodies battling life-threatening conditions, walk past park benches feeling the emotions laced through memorial flowers, and witness the cyclic life of bittersweet endings. We live in a delicate world, one that is uncomprehendingly fragile.

    Sometimes, we don’t get dealt the hand we desire, nor do those we love.

    But it is up to us to take these lessons and shift our perspective from what was lost to what was; to remember the love, the joy, and moments of simple pleasures; to rejoice in the light that so lovingly blessed us, even if just for a short while.

    For these fragile moments may take the breath from our lungs and puncture our hearts, but in doing so we are cracked wide open and taught how to love. There is beauty in the broken, and this is how we celebrate the fragility of life. Whether brutal or breathtaking, it somehow serves our lives.

  • How to Let Go of the Past and Forgive

    How to Let Go of the Past and Forgive

    “Forgive others not because they deserve forgiveness, but because you deserve peace.” ~Jonathan Lockwood Huie

    As a child, I faced constant physical and mental abuse.

    Several classmates would beat me up in the schoolyard, hitting and kicking me. They also chased me down the streets to my home when school was done for the day. I had to cycle at my fastest to avoid another beating. It felt like I had to go through a war zone every day.

    Besides the physical abuse, these children also constantly criticized and ridiculed every single thing I did. This made me feel incredibly insecure about a lot of things, including the way I walked and talked.

    In short, they did everything in their power to make my life as miserable as possible. They succeeded: I became an incredibly unhappy and anxious child. I came back home crying countless times.

    Despite efforts by teachers and my parents to help, all of this lasted for five long years.

    It only ended because we all went to different high schools and classes after finishing primary school, not because they ever showed remorse. Still, I managed to let go of what happened and even forgive them. In fact, I have flourished and live a happy and fulfilling life nowadays. Here’s how I achieved this.

    First, Forgive Yourself

    We are often our own worst enemy. Instead of showing empathy and compassion to ourselves, we tend to be overly critical. When I was being bullied, I blamed myself. I thought if they were targeting me, there must have been something wrong with me, which meant I had to change myself to prevent further bullying.

    Now, I know that isn’t true, and there is simply no excuse to bully anyone. The responsibility for their actions lies with the kids who hurt me, not with me.

    At that time, I was simply being my authentic self, and that’s a great thing, not a reason to bully myself.

    You’re likely being harder on yourself than on others. So, to counter this, imagine one of your friends faced the exact same thing you’re facing. How would you respond to that friend?

    You’d probably show support and be kind to them. Now say those kind words to yourself. You deserve empathy and compassion just as much as your friends do.

    “Nothing can harm you as much as your own thoughts unguarded.” ~The Buddha

    Realize That Those Who Did It Are Gone

    One of my favorite stories about the Buddha is about a man who spat on his face and insulted him. After the Buddha did not lash out at the man, but instead remained calm and kind, the man returned home confused. The next day, he returned to the Buddha. He hadn’t slept all night, haunted by his own behavior and the unexpected reaction from the Buddha. He begged the Buddha for forgiveness.

    Instead, the Buddha explained to him that there was nothing to forgive. The person the Buddha was talking to was not the same person who spat on his face the day before; the man had changed during the night because of his repentance, and the man who spat was no more.

    In the same vein, I believe that after all that time, the people who made me suffer as a child have changed. They were children at the time, but have now grown up to be adults. I have changed so much between then and now, and so have they. Those children who did this to me are no longer here. So is there really someone to forgive anymore?

    I imagine this mindset is harder to adopt if you feel the person who hurt you hasn’t changed. In that case, it might help to remember that people who bully or abuse are often in great pain themselves (which is often why they bully or abuse). This doesn’t condone their mistreatment in any way, but it might make it easier to release your anger toward them.

    Take Back Control

    Another way that I let go and forgave is by taking back control. If you let bad experiences in the past guide your present and future, then you give control to those experiences and the people who caused them.

    I’d highly recommend switching your perspective: Yes, those terrible experiences happened, but if you let them define who you are now and who you will be, then don’t you suffer twice? Once in the past, and again in the present.

    Instead, you could take back control of your present and future by letting who you are right now guide your actions. I find it empowering to take control of my life and create my own path.

    One way to do this is by crafting your own identity. Instead of identifying myself as a victim, I view myself as a victor. Someone who endured hardship and only got stronger through that suffering. By creating my own helpful identity, I take back control.

    Appreciate the Gains

    Another shift of perspective is by looking at how the experiences have positively shaped you instead of focusing on the suffering. Of course, there are situations where nothing has been gained, but in my case, there were certainly gains.

    For example, the abuse made me tough. Nowadays, I’m not easily impressed by problems, knowing I have faced much worse and came out on top. It has also made me more empathic, having lived through a lot of suffering myself. And my suffering brought me to Buddhism, where I learned about the nature of suffering and the path to end it.

    What have you gained from your hardships?

    Focus on the Present

    The past is dead. It can’t be changed, and it’s no longer here. So why keep thinking about the past when there is the present where you can actually do something and change your life for the better? After all, it’s only in the present that you can act.

    A healthier approach toward the past is to look for lessons you can learn. If you approach the past that way, it can have a positive impact on your present and future. For example, I learned that it’s of great importance to stand up for yourself. That’s a lesson I take to heart and apply almost daily.

    Another way you can focus more on the present is by practicing mindfulness and meditation.

    “Anxiety, the illness of our time, comes primarily from our inability to dwell in the present moment.” ~Thich Nhat Hanh

    Let It All Out

    It’s completely normal to have intense emotions about bad experiences in the past. So don’t hide from those emotions but let them out instead. There are many ways to do this, like writing in a journal or drawing or making music. Pick the method that suits you best.

    By letting your emotions out, you better understand what you’re feeling and why you have those emotions. This creates an opportunity to find peace within yourself.

    Find Support

    Sometimes you can’t let go and forgive on your own. In that case, it can be of great value to find someone you trust and who can support you. This can be a friend, family member, counselor, or anyone willing to help you get through your hardship.

    In my case, I found a lot of support from my mother and best friend. They helped me process my feelings and gave me a new perspective when I was struggling.

    “Letting go gives us freedom, and freedom is the only condition for happiness. If, in our heart, we still cling to anything—anger, anxiety, or possessions—we cannot be free.” ~Thich Nhat Hanh 

    These are the steps that helped me let go and forgive. Remember that this is often a lengthy process, so don’t give up when you don’t see results immediately. If I can do it, so can you. The best of luck!