Tiny Buddha

“Part of the ingenuity of any addictive drug is to fool you into believing that life without it won’t be as enjoyable” ~Alan Carr

“I’m okay, thanks.”

See that? I just turned down a Tony’s Chocolonely from our family advent calendar.

I don’t care that it’s a white raspberry popping candy flavor I have never, ever tried before.

I don’t care that I remember being a kid, opening chocolate coins from my stocking.

I don’t care!

Because this year, I’m going into the holiday month already sugar-free. And I am tentatively walking on air about it!!

I’m forty-five, and it’s taken a lot of bingeing and secret eating, regret, and shame to get here.

Shame when the kids accused each other of having stolen bits of their Easter eggs. (I kept my head down, unstacking the dishwasher.)

Shame when I found a whole box of Green & Black’s bars in my husband’s office, because if he buys a treat, I won’t leave him any.

Shame when I had my head in the fridge, scooping teaspoonfuls of Eton mess into my mouth last birthday, while everyone else was enjoying the barbecue in the garden.

Shame because being forty-five and still being silly about kids’ treat food feels ridiculous. Trivial.

But I bet I’m not alone.

I bet I’m not the only middle-aged woman who has Googled “addictive personality,” “food,” and “overeating.”

I bet I’m not the only person who has worked from home, kidding herself that she ‘needs’ a few tiles of 85% chocolate “for the energy boost.”

I expect I’m not the only perimenopausal gal allowing disrupted sleep to turn her into a cookie monster.

I know I’m not the only one who has quit alcohol only to fixate on sugar.

So, if you’re struggling with sugar addiction right now, I feel your pain. I was obsessed too.

But right now, it’s like a switch has flipped in my head, and doing holidays without sugar seems possible. What’s changed? I gifted myself some new beliefs.

Let me share the little self-talk phrases I started to use in case you’re struggling with sugar too.

Maybe you’re not ready for sugar-free holidays. I admit it’s kind of radical, and I’m not saying anyone else ‘should’ do it. But maybe you’re thinking of giving it up next year. Or you’re wondering if it’s possible to let go of some of your attachment to it.

If so, here are twelve brand new phrases to say to yourself.

1. “Holidays are just days of my life.”

I was always trying to allow sugar in my life because I wanted to eat it normally. But ‘normal’ never stayed that way for long.

Every time there was a holiday—Valentine’s, Easter, summer, Halloween, Christmas—I’d start having loads of tiny ‘treats’ that added up to a ton of rubbish and a spiraling habit.

From my first morning honey-laden cocoa until my last secret (what’s in the kids’ treat drawer? Broken Oreos!) self-reward for cleaning the kitchen after dinner, sugar would overrun my days like an invasion of ants.

Eventually, I admitted my position was wishy-washy. I was trying to have my cake and not eat it.

It was a relief to finally be decisive and make a clear code of conduct for myself around sugar, based on what I could realistically expect myself to handle. One way of behaving every day. Including holidays.

2. “I’m deciding what I think about this now.”

The government pays subsidies to the sugar industry. It does international trade deals. We get advertised to, and so we get the message:

“Buy more sugar.”

But their health messaging is the opposite:

“Individuals should make better decisions.”

I realized I was asking a ton from my own free will to resist it, given how ‘everywhere’ it is. I wasn’t being fair to myself when I called myself a willpower weakling. The odds aren’t stacked in favor of resistance.

It was time to stop trying to please society and listen to my own messages.

3. “This is just a commercial product.”

When I looked at the shelves of shiny treats in the supermarket, I saw how clever the marketing is.

Shiny wrappers. Expensive boxes. It reminded me of how cigarettes boxes suggest luxury—how misleading that now looks!

Seasonal flavors keep us wanting ‘new’ experiences: “Look, Mum, this Ferrero Rocher is like a giant Christmas tree bauble. Can we get one?”

I’ve spent my life believing these foods mean treats, fun, celebration, “I love you,” “Let’s relax and share something,” and “life is good.”

But if you look past the wrappers, it’s just stuff. Chocolate is just brown stuff, like wax. Candy is just colored chewy stuff, like putty. It means nothing.

4. “‘Fun’ looks like freedom.”

I imagined chocolate Brazils wrapped in newspaper instead of shiny purple foil.

I visualized all the shops for miles around stacked with sweets, and I could see that they weren’t rare or special but in endless supply.

And I stopped telling myself they were ‘fun.’ Sugar addiction is about as much fun as having a constant snotty head cold. It’s with you everywhere you go, ruining your concentration and making you feel ever so slightly physically gross.

Sure, it’s less life-threatening than other addictions. But it’s misery-making, and that’s serious.

5. “Having more just makes you want more.”

I dove into research on whether sugar is actually addictive. Short answer: It is.

You get withdrawal, receptors in your brain become sensitized… All the markers are there. That’s why my urge to have a second treat is always even stronger than the idea to go get the first one!

I had tried to normalize sugar many times. I had kept snacks stocked at home to stop them feeling off-limits. But they never lost their charm.

Now I understood why eating more of it didn’t make me more blasé, as I’d hoped.

6. “I stop when I decide to stop.”

I also read up on whether our bodies can actually send signals of ‘satisfied’ around sugar.

Surprise, surprise: They can’t.

(Speedy science lesson: Our bodies break down sugar into glucose and fructose. It’s about 50/50. The glucose digestion process has an enzyme, PFK-1, to prevent us from overconsuming it. But the fructose part doesn’t have any signal to stop.)

I began to wonder whether eating sugar intuitively was even achievable.

I decided to keep listening to my hunger and fullness around other foods, but not expect them to help me out much around treats.

7. “I only eat edible food.”

I love the idea that all foods are morally neutral. So I didn’t think of sugar as ‘bad’ or tell my kids they shouldn’t have any. I just quietly switched my perspective to no longer thinking of sugar as an edible substance.

Just because it doesn’t kill you doesn’t mean it’s edible.

I ate toothpaste as a kid: Survived. Not edible.

I once drank aftershave at a party in my teens to try to get drunk. Wasn’t even sick. But it’s still not on my menu of drinks for humans.

Sugar is a thing, not a food. That’s how I think of it now.

8. “I’m not a dog, and I don’t need a treat.”

My overeating is largely emotional: the harder I work, the more I rely on food to give me a feeling of reward.

With sugary snacks, I was treating myself like a pet, giving biscuits for good behavior. Sugar-coating my toxic habit of overworking.

Then, during the holidays, when I couldn’t get my usual dopamine hits from ticking off achievements at work, I was at a loss for how to properly relax and was more vulnerable to receiving reward feelings from sugar.

I learned to start giving myself inner high fives instead. And I now expect the first few days of any holiday to feel a bit empty too. That’s normal while I adjust.

9. “Let me see how quickly this passes.”

This was fun.

I felt as though once I had an idea like “leftover banana bread!” I couldn’t settle or focus on my work until I’d scratched the itch.

I’m pretty experienced at surfing urges—I mentioned I gave up drinking a few years ago, right? That was good practice.

But with sugar obsession, my ‘urge tolerance muscle’ felt very limp indeed.

To my amazement, as I made my way through my first two or three days without sugar, the urges died down unbelievably quickly.

I realized my brain sent up thoughts of sugary treats like a puppy that’s used to begging. But puppies are really trainable. They adapt quickly once you stop feeding them under the table.

10. “I’m the authority on feeding myself.”

Nobody told me to.

I didn’t do it to lose weight.

I didn’t do it because I thought I ‘should.’

I didn’t do it out of fear for my health or my teeth.

I didn’t preach about it (or even dare to announce it) to my family.

I didn’t join an online challenge that made me accountable to a community.

I did it so that I have less food noise in my brain. That’s enough of a reason.

11. “Ha ha, brain, nice try!”

I made a previous attempt to give up sugar last January. February 1st, bang! I fell for my brain’s BS.

“I wonder what that dark chocolate tastes like. I can’t remember.”

“You’ve done so well; having just one little bit won’t hurt.”

“Maybe you can eat it normally now—just have a bit from time to time.”

Then, before I knew it, I was having a little all the time again. Throwing handfuls of chocolate chips at my face while the kettle boiled. A ‘dessert’ item after every meal.

This time, I’m ready for the persuasion attempts. I get it, brain. You remember the taste. But, lovingly, no.

12. “I already walked through a doorway.”

Last February, it was as if I’d gotten to my mental finish line, so then I thought I could relax.

Relax, relapse, collapse.

So this time, I decided not to imagine an end point.

I imagined walking through a doorway, and that my life with sugar was already behind me, and I was moving forward one day at a time.

So far, so good.

It actually felt refreshing to tell myself the truth about it all.

I don’t know if it’s forever. I haven’t made a vow or gotten a tattoo.

Don’t label me the ‘no-sugar’ person and then call me a hypocrite if I change strategy later on in my life.

Because I’m not saying I’ve found the way and that you should do what I do. I truly believe that how we eat shouldn’t be about listening to other people’s magic solutions or expert advice.

For me, it is a matter of trial-and-error, evaluating, refining my system, and finding habits and lifestyle choices that I can sustain.

So, this is what I’m doing this holiday. It’s an experiment, and it feels fun to me.

This year, I’m actually looking forward to connecting with the people more than the food.

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“If you love yourself, it doesn’t matter if other people like you because you don’t need their approval to feel good about yourself.” ~Lori Deschene

For most of my life, I worried about what others thought. Every move I made felt like a performance for someone else. I’d built my life on their approval.

Then came the losses. Three family members were gone in a matter of years. Each time, the grief hit like a fist to the gut.

My mother was my pillar of strength; my father, who might not have always been there for me but was still my father, went next, and then my younger brother—a cruel fate.

Their absence left a void that seemed impossible to fill.

I felt hollow, like someone had punched all the air out of me. I was left winded and empty. Grief, relentless and heavy, kept knocking me down.

I tried to keep up appearances, but inside, I was stuck. Couldn’t move. I didn’t know how.

I remember one day after my younger brother died, I sat alone in the garden. The sun was out, but I felt nothing.

It was close to Easter, and I had a list of commitments. Things I’d agreed to, people I had to see. Each one felt like a chain around my neck.

I stared at my phone, anxious and tired. ‘’Where are you?” the message read. My hands were shaking. That’s when I put it down.

It was a moment of liberation. I realized I didn’t want to do this anymore. I didn’t want to worry about what everyone else wanted.

It was time to let go. And in that release, I found a new sense of freedom and hope.

I picked up my phone again and texted, “Sorry, I will not make it today.” And I hit send.

One message turned into two, then three. “I’m sorry, I won’t be coming.” The words felt strange, as if I were speaking them for the first time.

One small act, one message, was enough to break the chains. For the first time in years, I felt like I could breathe. The tightness in my chest eased.

It was a turning point in my journey to self-acceptance.

I didn’t know it then, but that was the beginning of reclaiming my life. Just a few words and the weight started to lift.

Grief Changes Everything

Grief stripped away everything I thought mattered. The “should” and “have to” layers fell away like dead skin. I was left with nothing but raw, aching truth.

I saw my life clearly for the first time. It was built on everyone else’s expectations. There was no space left for me.

That was the most challenging part to accept. I had spent so long trying to be what everyone else wanted. And now I didn’t know who I was.

But the losses kept coming, pushing me deeper into emptiness. Each time, it took something from me. And each time, I was forced to look harder at myself.

I began to see a pattern. I was living for others, not for myself. It was a painful truth, but grief can uncover what’s hidden.

The Realization

One day, I stood in front of the mirror. The reflection, looking back, was a stranger. My face, my clothes, how I stood—it was all for someone else.

That was the moment when I decided I needed to change. I didn’t want to live like this. I needed to stop.

I didn’t need the approval of others. I didn’t need to be perfect for anyone but myself. It was time to break free.

It wasn’t easy. The habit of pleasing others ran deep. But I started with small steps.

Steps Toward Freedom

First, I listened to my thoughts. When I found myself worrying about someone’s opinion, I stopped. “Is this helping me?” I’d ask.

The answer was almost always no! So I let the thought go. It was redemptive.

Slowly, the worrying and sleepless nights of being a people-pleaser lessened.

Next, I set boundaries. The most challenging boundary was with me. I had to stop pushing past my limits, physically, emotionally, or mentally.

I began saying no. I stopped feeling guilty for choosing myself. Setting boundaries was empowering and made me feel more in control of my life.

It was a declaration of my needs and desires, a step toward asserting my worth.

I distanced myself from people who drained me and people who made me question myself. It was a gradual process.

I started by reducing the time I spent with them, and eventually, I found the courage to communicate my need for space.

I started creating space, which allowed me to breathe and focus on my well-being.

Slowly, I started doing what felt good: walking in the rain instead of counting steps; I just walked for pleasure.

I stopped trying to please everyone; instead, I pleased myself.

This focus on my desires and needs was an essential aspect of my journey to self-acceptance and self-love.

I stopped playing host because others required it. The first Christmas after my younger brother passed away, I took a vacation with just my children, starting a tradition that centered on what worked for me. Now I only host when it feels right on my terms.

I also stopped being the one to reach out constantly to family or friends. I realized I didn’t have to check in or hold relationships together single-handedly. Trusting that real friendships wouldn’t crumble without my constant effort was freeing.

Each small action was a step closer to who I was. Each “no” brought me back to myself. It wasn’t a sudden transformation but a slow, steady shift.

Healing Through Action

There’s freedom in not needing anyone’s approval. I started to feel it in my bones. I began to laugh again.

The weight lifted. I noticed the world again—the way the sky changes colors at dusk, the way the wind feels on my face. Life was waiting for me.

I started to walk more—no destination, no purpose—just walking. I felt the ground under my feet, solid and real.

The loss of my loved ones will always be there. But it doesn’t define me anymore. It’s part of the story, not the whole of it.

Moving Forward

If you’re stuck seeking approval, start small—one step at a time. You don’t have to change everything at once.

Ask yourself: What do I want today? Just for today, choose that. It’s enough.

Reflect on the moments when you felt trapped—times when you felt overwhelmed by external pressures and were trying to meet everyone’s expectations; when you sacrificed your own needs and desires to please others; or when you found yourself constantly worrying about the opinions of others. By reflecting on these moments, you can identify what has been holding you back and take the first step toward living authentically.

Self-reflection is a crucial part of the journey to self-love and self-acceptance. It’s a mirror that allows you to see yourself more clearly, understand your wants and needs, and be free to fulfill them.

It takes time to break free. The habits run deep. But each small step chips away at the chains.

Embracing Self-Acceptance

Self-acceptance wasn’t easy. It felt foreign, like trying on clothes that didn’t fit. But little by little, I got used to it.

I stopped chasing what others thought was beautiful. I looked at my imperfections and decided they were mine. The quirks became markers of who I was.

Writing helped. It was messy and unfiltered, but it was real.

I saw my patterns. The way I bent over backward to fit in. The way I swallowed my voice to keep others happy.

So, I began taking small actions. For instance, I started embracing my uniqueness by wearing clothes that made me smile (like a short mini skirt!).

I spent more time with people who supported me. The ones who made me feel seen. Their encouragement helped me believe that I didn’t have to change to be worthy.

The Healing Process

Of course, there were setbacks. Days when I slipped back into old habits. But each time, I chose to keep moving forward.

It’s not a straight path. There are twists and turns. But each small step makes you stronger.

There’s freedom in not needing anyone else’s approval. I started to feel it grow. I felt lighter, unburdened.

Conclusion

Grief changed everything. But through it, I found strength. I found my worth buried beneath all the noise.

You don’t need anyone’s approval to feel good about who you are. The only person who can define your worth is you.

So ask yourself today: Who’s writing my story?

If the answer isn’t you, it’s time to take the pen back.

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“No kind action ever stops with itself. One kind action leads to another… A single act of kindness throws out roots in all directions, and the roots spring up and make new trees. The greatest work that kindness does to others is that it makes them kind themselves.” ~Amelia Earhart

When you’re having a particularly rough day, it’s tempting to hang your head in defeat and conclude it’s a cruel world where nothing matters. I had a day like that last month.

A good friend was diagnosed with a horrendous disease. The horse I had been training with for years was sold and relocated across the country with almost no notice. A shady car mechanic almost had me convinced to replace four perfectly good tires.

All this in one day.

Yet that’s not all that happened that day.

I also went to the bank to use the cash machine. I hadn’t been to that location in months. When I arrived, there was a security guard outside. I said hello. It seemed like he recognized me as having been there before. I completed my transaction and started walking back toward my car. And that’s when the security guard said, “When’s the next free hug day?”

As it turned out, he remembered me from several months ago when I was wearing a t-shirt with Elmo on the front and the words “free hugs” in big letters. At that time, I had completely forgotten I was wearing that shirt. In fact, I was so caught up in my thoughts that day that I didn’t even notice the security guard standing there until I heard a voice say, “I’ll take you up on that shirt.” That was months ago.

That small act of kindness—a single hug several months ago—had made an impact. I was getting a beautiful reminder of that now.

So when the security guard asked, “When’s the next free hug day?” I immediately snapped out of my defeated state of mind and cheerfully answered “every day,” and we hugged for the second time.

“Thanks, I needed that,” he said. And I guess so did I.

That’s the power of one person. Each of us has within us the potential to make a positive impact on the world.

We don’t need to start a non-profit or donate all our possessions to charity (although those things are awesome) to make a difference. Making a positive difference can happen with our every thought, word, and action—no matter how small.

My interaction with the security guard at the bank was a beautiful reminder that something as small and fleeting as a hug, a smile, or a kind word can have a profound and lasting effect.

“There’s no such thing as a small act of kindness. Every act creates a ripple with no logical end.” ~Scott Adams

The truth is, we’ll never know just how far the ripples of one small kindness extend. Maybe that initial hug with the security guard months ago put him in a more lighthearted mood for the rest of the day, which influenced how he interacted with his family that evening, which in turn influenced their actions and outlook the next day, and so on, and so on.

Maybe the second hug reminded him that the world is full of friendly people, and all that it takes is a tiny, initial gesture to break the ice.

“The very nature of kindness is to spread. If you are kind to others, today they will be kind to you, and tomorrow to somebody else.” ~Sri Chinmoy

Although we can never know just how far the goodness of one kind act can spread to others, what we can experience firsthand are the effects a kind act has on ourselves. Studies have repeatedly shown that the person doing the kind act receives as much benefit to their mood and outlook as does the receiver—oftentimes even more so.

What’s more amazing is that this double benefit is not limited to our kind words and deeds. It applies to our thoughts as well.

That’s right. Our thoughts are powerful. The quality and quantity of our thoughts affect our physical, mental, and emotional health.

That’s why things like the placebo effect work. If we wholeheartedly believe the sugar pill the doctor gives us is a powerful medicine to help what ails us, our body will respond according to that belief. Our thoughts directly influence how our body functions.

Our thoughts also extend out to others.

Because thoughts, like everything else, are energy, they are broadcast nonstop, twenty-four hours a day, to everyone and everything around us. That’s why things like distant healing and prayer groups can promote healing and positive change. When two or more people synchronize and focus their thoughts, the positive effects are magnified.

Even in our day-to-day activities, our thoughts have an impact on others. Although we may not be able to read the mind of the sales clerk who approaches us in the store, for instance, on some level we can feel them.

Our body senses the energy fields of others.

That’s how we are able to get an immediate sense of someone when we meet them for the first time. Even before either person says a word, we receive an energetic impression of that person. Whether that first impression is positive or negative has a lot to do with their (and our) thoughts.

We live in an interconnected, interdependent universe. My interaction with the security guard at the bank that day was a beautiful reminder of this.

So, while we may often feel alone or distracted in this increasingly busy world, it is empowering to realize we can connect with anyone, anywhere, with our thoughts, our words, and our actions. All it takes is intention and attention. That’s how powerful we are.

We can set an intention to embody kindness and compassion and be a positive force in the world. Then we can give it attention by regularly monitoring our thoughts to ensure they are in alignment with our intention to be the best version of ourselves.

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“Feeling gratitude and not expressing it is like wrapping a present and not giving it.” –William Arthur Ward

The holiday season generally brings us closer to people. Sometimes that closeness reminds us how much we love each other. Sometimes it reminds us that we drive each other crazy, as family often does.

At the heart of it, Thanksgiving in particular calls us to see people with the deepest appreciation for the gifts they’ve given us. Some gifts are more immediately obvious than others—the type that come with praise, affection, and genuine esteem.

Others push us, stretch us, test us, and make us wonder if there’s anything to be grateful for at all.

There’s no denying that certain relationships are more challenging than others, but through each we have an opportunity to grow and help others do the same. Every relationship teaches us something about loving, trusting, forgiving, setting boundaries, taking care of ourselves, and taking care of each other.

From the people who love you, to the people who challenge you, to the people who support you at work, here’s how to show your gratitude.

Show Gratitude to People Who Love You

1. Share a specific example of something they did for you and how it made a difference in your life.

2. Do something little but thoughtful for them—like clean up after Thanksgiving dinner!

3. Give a long, intimate hug; or if you know they don’t like hugs, stick out your hand for a handshake to cater to their preferences and make them smile.

4. Tell them you’re there if they have anything they want to talk about—and let them know they have your full attention.

5. Give them something of yours that you think they would enjoy, and let them know specifically why you want them to have it.

6. Invite them to do something you know they’ve always wanted to do.

7. Encourage them to try something you know they want to try but haven’t yet because they’re scared.

8. Offer to do something you know they don’t enjoy doing, like organizing their closet or mowing their lawn.

9. Compliment them on a talent, skill, or strength that you admire.

10. Look them straight in the eyes and say, “You make the world a better place.”

Show Gratitude to People Who Challenge You

11. Fully listen to what they have to say instead of forming your rebuttal in your head and waiting to speak.

12. Thank them for introducing you to a new way to look at things, even if you still don’t agree.

13. Pinpoint something you admire about their commitment to their beliefs—even if you don’t hold them as well.

14. Resist the urge to tell them they’re wrong.

15. Challenge them right back to be the best they can be, with love and positive intentions.

16. If they inspired you to push outside your comfort zone, thank them for inspiring you to take a risk, and let them know how it paid off.

17. Write a blog post about how they helped you see things differently and dedicate it to them.

18. Use the lesson this person teaches you through your interactions, whether it’s patience, compassion, or courage.

19. Introduce them to someone who may challenge them and help them grow, as they’ve done for you.

20. Let them know how you appreciate when they challenge you in a loving, non-confrontational way—and if they don’t do that, be calm and kind when you ask them to do that going forward.

Show Gratitude to People Who Serve You

21. Give a larger tip than usual.

22. If they have a tip jar, include a thoughtful note of appreciation along with your coins or bills.

23. Smile when you order or enlist their assistance. Smiles are contagious, so give one away!

24. If they serve you regularly, acknowledge something they always do well—like work efficiently or stay calm under pressure.

25. Exhibit patience, even if you’re in a hurry.

26. Let their supervisor know they do an outstanding job.

27. Keep their workplace clean—for example, at a coffee shop, clean up after yourself at the sugar stand.

28. Offer to get a coffee for them, if it’s someone working in or outside your home.

29. If you have their contact information, send an email of appreciation—and let them know you just wanted to express your gratitude, so they don’t need to write back.

30. Praise them in a review on Yelp and/or recommend them to people you know.

Show Gratitude to People Who Work with You

31. Write a handwritten thank-you note, acknowledging things you value about them and their work.

32. Offer to lighten their workload in some way if you are able.

33. Bring back lunch for them if you know they’re working hard and likely haven’t had a chance to grab something.

34. If you’re running a meeting, keep it short to show them you appreciate and respect their time.

35. Ask them about their lives instead of always being all business. This doesn’t mean you need to pry into personal matters; it just means showing an interest in who they are as people.

36. Be the calm, light voice in a stressful situation.

37. Give them flowers to brighten their desk.

38. Let their boss know how they’re doing a great job and contributing to the company.

39. Listen fully if they’re having a difficult day, and recognize if they need space to figure things out on their own, not advice or help.

40. Remember that the little things can make a big difference!

Show Gratitude for Yourself

41. Make a list of ways you’ve impressed yourself lately.

42. Treat yourself to something you enjoy, like a pedicure or a massage.

43. If someone compliments you, thank them and let them know you’re proud of that skill, talent, or accomplishment.

44. Compliment yourself—say it while looking in the mirror, write it in a journal, or jot it on a sticky note and put it on your refrigerator.

45. Give yourself time to enjoy a passion you’re sometimes too busy to fit in.

46. Take an inventory of all the good things you’ve done for other people and the world.

47. Write yourself a love letter. Seriously, start with “Dear Lori” (but insert your own name) and describe all the things you admire about yourself.

48. Let go of any conditions you have for being kind to yourself—meaning you appreciate even if you didn’t accomplish or do anything specific.

49. Schedule a date with yourself—an afternoon or evening that’s all about you.

50. Share the beauty that is you with the people around you, knowing they’re fortunate to have you in their lives.

I am fortunate to have you in mine. You make the world a better place!

**Update: Since I wrote this post, I launched a gratitude journal/coloring book that people seem to be really enjoying! If you’re interested, you can learn more here.

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“The only thing you sometimes have control over is perspective. You don’t have control over your situation. But you have a choice about how you view it.” ~Chris Pine

I had a happy, carefree childhood up until a point. I remember lots of giggles, hugs, and playfulness. One summer, as we were sitting in my grandmother’s yard enjoying her homemade cake, my mum’s right hand started trembling.

My worried grandmother encouraged her to eat, but her hand continued to tremble. I remember her troubled look. She must have sensed something was wrong.

Just three months later, she was gone. Acute leukemia meant that on Monday she received the results of a worrying blood test, on Wednesday she was admitted to the hospital, and by Friday she had died. I was only ten years old.

My aunt broke the news to us that Friday afternoon by saying, “Your mum has gone to the sky.”

If I were to explain what the news of her passing felt like, I would say it was like being hit by lightning. I’ve read that in cases of sudden death, children can stay stuck in some sort of confusing reality: They hear what happened and react to the news, but they don’t quite comprehend it. Somehow, deep inside, they don’t really believe it.

In my case, and for years following my mum’s death, I thought that she had gone to the sky, but that she would come back. It was just a trip, or a bad joke.

She would most definitely come back.

As you might be guessing, I did not get much support in dealing with my grief. On the contrary, the message I got was that life should go on. That a page had turned, but the preceding pages weren’t worth reading.

This is also how all the adults around me acted. So, even though lightning had struck me, I simply stood up and continued to walk, despite all the invisible damage it had done.

The wake-up call to locate that damage and try to repair it came years later when I started experiencing health issues that my doctors said were linked to chronic stress. That’s when I finally decided to face my grief. My young adult body was giving me a clear sign: There were too many unprocessed emotions, desperately needing to find a way out.

Once I allowed myself to finally feel that my heart had been shattered in a million pieces, I started putting those pieces together and redefining who I was.

If my life were a book, grief would be the longest chapter. When I meet someone for the first time, I almost feel like saying, “Hi, I’m Annie, and my mum suddenly died when I was ten.” That’s how much it defines who I am.

Negatively, you might think.

Indeed, her absence still causes tremendous pain. I never felt this more than when I had my own children a few years ago. Becoming a mother does not mean that you stop being a daughter who needs her mother. You also become a mother who would like her children to have a grandmother.

My mother is not there to spoil my daughters, and they will never get to know her. There is no one I can ask to find out how I was as a baby. She isn’t there to listen to my worries or fears while I navigate parenthood.

I still get a ping in my heart when I see ten-year-old girls with their mums, seeing myself in them and re-living the immensity of such a loss. And as I am approaching the age she was when she died, I’m terrified that I will share the same fate and that my girls will grow up without me.

Nevertheless—and I know this might sound contradictory, but aren’t grief and life full of contradictions?—in many ways, her absence has also been a gift.

Thanks to her:

–I fully embrace the idea “live every day as if it is your last” because I know that there is a very real possibility that this day might indeed be my very last. While you might think this means living life with fear, quite the opposite is true. It means living life full of appreciation, gratitude, and love for this body that is still functioning, for the people around me, and for life itself.

–I choose to be truly present with my children and close ones and cherish deep relationships because I want to make the time we spend together count. If the memories we are creating are shorter for whatever reason, let them be powerful.

–I have a job that gives me a deep sense of purpose and meaning because anything else would make me feel like I am wasting precious time that I don’t necessarily have. I’m honored to be making a difference in other people’s lives by helping them think differently about their lives and helping them through their own grief. I make it my goal to share my gifts with the world while I live on this planet.

–I am (relatively) comfortable with the challenges that life throws at me. When you survive after the tragedy of losing a parent, you don’t sweat the small stuff as much. I still find myself getting upset by little things like anyone else, but I’m able to quickly change my perspective and realize that many of the things that upset us are not as important as we first think.

–I know that I cannot control life because life is utterly uncontrollable. In fact, I was a control freak for years, trying to make sure nothing tragic would ever happen to me or my loved ones again, until I realized that this was a reaction to my mum’s passing. I now know this isn’t a way to live life, and that is liberating.

–I take care of my health to feel good in my body, not because I want to live until I’m 100, but because I want to live well. I don’t want my days to be filled with the common ailments that people usually accept, such as headaches, brain fog, or digestive issues. I can only enjoy life fully if my body is allowing me to do so.

If you have experienced early loss but cannot possibly imagine feeling anything positive about it, there is nothing wrong with you. I am sharing my story to perhaps inspire you or even give you comfort.

Perhaps all you can do right now is stay open to the possibility that at some point in your life, you might be able to see things in a similar way. Ultimately, the path of grief is entirely unique.

Would I wish early loss on anyone? Never.

Has grief made me happier? Perhaps.

Has it made me wiser? Definitely.

Just as a friend once told me, “You can’t appreciate light without the shadows.”

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“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.

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“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.

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“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.

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“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.

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“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.

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