To me, at twenty, with love

Such energy, such determination, such inspiring plans! For a scant two decades of life, you sure are cocky.  You know you’re book-smart. You’ve known that since you won that homonyms contest in fourth grade. You are beginning to believe that you are beautiful. This, thanks to a campus full of testosterone-driven boys, boys who didn’t know your gawky, clumsy, yet brainy seventh grade self, towering intimidatingly above their skinny, pre-hormonal selves. You have a dad who has preached, from his perpetual preacher’s stance, that not only are you smart and beautiful, you can expect to accomplish whatever you want. All a recipe for cocky certainty.

The perfect life, defined by boxes to be checked off, is one you feel certain to build. Certain you will finish the current psychology degree and the next, to take you on your chosen path of meaningful, yet financially stable work. Work that will make a difference in the lives of others yet still allow that ever-important flexible mom schedule. Certain you can build a relationship with the ideal loving man and establish a home for children, another way you plan to contribute to the world. Certain that if you do all this in the Right Order: finish school and training, snag the guy, launch the career, then and only then produce that yearned for grand-baby; your life will be perfect. You will be happy. Fulfilled. Productive. Balanced. Parents proud. You will be in control.

I bite my tongue to stop the inevitable tsk, tsk from escaping my head. You are twenty and know it all! Yes, it will work out, though I really don’t need to tell you that. Most days, you simply, whole-heartedly, are certain fairy tales come true. Allow that belief to carry you far, quieting those doubts that bubble up in the still night hours, dark-thirty. Because even as you barrel on, the ruts of doubt deepen, parallel paths that die hard.  From a quarter century later, I see the undercurrent to your bravado, hidden depths of worry, doubt, full-fledged anxiety. Are  you really good enough? Lovable enough? Do you matter enough?

Drink and dance hard, do your homework, flirt with boys. Charm the professors, call home once a week, volunteer for the crisis hotline. Be on time, shelve stacks of library books, save your money. Be the good girl, do what smart girls do, and maybe that will be enough to fill those ruts, dam that undercurrent. Jump through the right hoops, and you’ll feel in control.

Control is an illusion, my dear. You think the grand design in your head will automatically come true, detail by precious detail, because it’s what you want and you’re doing the right things. Dreams come true. Yet, like constantly shifting clouds, the only certainty is that the dream morphs. You envision one prince charming; another is, in fact, the one you need. You imagine constantly adoring and adored children; the vehemence that can fly both ways at 2 and 13 is horrifying. You paint the picture of one life; destiny insists you’ve drawn this lot instead.

I know you’re afraid of heights, but this is not one of those dreaded fire towers that your parents dragged you up, open wooden steps with a shaky splintered railing. As the path you plan to forge diverges, step back, climb to the highest point, and seize the bird’s eye view–in spite of your fear.  If you’d taken the predictable, planned path, you would have missed this gorgeous vista.

Surrendering to uncertainty is not a concept you embrace as part of your grand life plan and it’s illusion of control. Surrendering to reality equates to loss. Grab the box of tissues, release the tears, this isn’t what you ordered. You are certain surrender looks like this: pain, suffering, anxiety to be feared: 

When in fact, surrender looks like this:

 

You think you know it all, and that, in true all or nothing style, the details are essential to fulfillment of the plan. You are certain that achieving the plan, unaltered, will bring peace and security. Failure, defined in that absolute way, means no rest from the worry and doubt. Give it up. Surrender is acknowledging the illusion that you are in charge. Simply, wholeheartedly, be certain about that truth, and allow life to delight you with surprising vision. That is, after all, exactly what you need.

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This post is part of a BlogHop for a group of midlife bloggers called Generation Fabulous (GenFab for short).

Fifty Shades of Grey You DO Need

Fifty Shades of Grey, the first book in the Fifty Shades trilogy by author E.L. James, has been on the New York Times bestseller list (along with the other two books in the trilogy) for thirty-three weeks, and counting. There is buzz about the film.  Even bigger buzz is about why the book has been such a hit, and inspiring either “love it or hate it” reactions. I confess, I haven’t read anymore than the first sample chapters that I could get for free on my iPad–and that didn’t drive me to instantly download the rest of the book. Since I was only mildly intrigued, the book has slipped to my “spare time” reading list.  Seems to be another way that psychologists are just like you, for there it stays, waiting for either a classic Dallas ice storm stay-at-home day or a broken leg.

While I am not recommending that fifty shades of grey, there are fifty shades of gray that most of us all-or-nothing thinkers need in our lives.  All or nothing thinking is that thinking trap that I write about frequently because it fuels unhappiness so powerfully:  success or  failure, with no grace in between. Either I parent perfectly, never yelling at my kids, or I’m a bad mom. I earn all As, or I may as well flunk out. My house is spotless, or I’m a rotten housekeeper.

This black and white thinking pattern is so common that we can probably write it off to simply being human. In the course of the evolution of the species, questions with yes/no answers contributed to survival. You steered clear of the saber tooth tiger, or you got eaten. You avoided the poisonous berries, or you died.  Humans who had this “all or nothing” decision tree burned into their brains are the ones who survived. AND lived to reproduce. Here we are, their descendents, only doing what we have evolved to do: reasoning in very black and white ways. We get it honestly.

But the world is not very black and white any more. Decisions aren’t as clear. We stress ourselves less when we learn to look for the shades of grey, particularly when evaluating success or failure. There are innumerable shades of grey along the continuum of our lives, degrees of accomplishment. In defeating this all or nothing thinking in your head, it helps to consider the grey. Count what you have accomplished.

Here’s a little tool for remembering to look for the shades of grey in your life.

I give these out as bookmarks, to remind black and white thinkers to look for the grey. Yes, it’s a paint sample strip.  If you, like me, are plagued by all or nothing thinking, drop by your local paint store and pick up your own.

What form does your all or nothing thinking take? How can fifty shades of grey to shift your perspective?

 

Face Your Fears Day

Fears. We all have ’em. Fear of public speaking is the most common. Fear of missing out is the newest I’ve heard, with a handy acronym: FOMO. Fear of failure. Fear of success. Fear of spiders. Fear of being alone. Fear of flying. Fear of messing up as a mother. You name it. Facing our fears is the basic human condition, as pointed out in one of my favorite films, Defending Your Life.

When the clock radio turned on this morning, the DJ announced that now, to address this most basic human state of anxiety, we have a day dedicated to facing those fears. Face Your Fears Day. Today’s the day, the second annual to be exact. In that spirit, I’d like to toss out my favorite mantras for doing just that.

Fear lies!

And the corollary: Don’t believe every thought you think.

Feel the fear and do it anyway.

It’s just anxiety, not reality.

Self-compassion is a good place to start, loving yourself, fears and all. Giving yourself that validation, rather than chastising yourself for being fearful, aka for being human, means you can drop the ‘second dart’ of self-criticism. The first dart is the visceral fear; the second dart, unnecessary, is that judgment you impose upon yourself. I don’t know that many people who don’t have a few, steering their lives, even if the fear is lurking deep below the surface. And the fact that we’ve dedicated a day to the concept is further proof that fear is a pretty universal condition.

And my second favorite way to cope: exhale. Everyone touts deep breathing as a way to calm yourself. Even these supposedly simple directions can add stress: fear of breathing wrong! Or not finding time! The bottom line, in terms of the nervous system, is that taking a great big deep breath IN actually activates the alarm system of the body, telling your body to prepare to fight or flee. Let out a big deep EXHALE instead, and you send a message to your nervous system that there is no danger, and it’s safe to relax. That’s it. One move. Repeat as needed. Simple. Practice it just like blowing out birthday candles; we all conquered that skill when we were three.

What are your fears? What’s your favorite way to conquer them?

 

 

 

Are you a sponge or a brick?

The need for approval leads many women to sculpt and mold their bodies, personalities, even lives to fit either/both a societal ideal and an individual’s expectations.  Maybe the recent Olympics launched tears of boredom rather than emotion in you, but you smiled and nodded at others’ enthusiasm. In most women’s lives, it’s an ongoing struggle to find that balance of being fully me while still pleasing others.  Back in February, I explored this need for honest truth in our relationship lives, concluding that loss of self for the sake of a relationship does not lead to a happy life. It’s not a good idea to “give up me to be loved by you,” as the classic book says.

Healthy or not, backed by psychological science or not, it is often true that we are attracted to those who have characteristics that we seem to be missing. An introvert feels that that wild party person will fill life with greater fun or connection. A serious planner loves the spontaneity of that ”live-in-the-moment” person.  In the words of Jerry Maguire, “you complete me.” In the best incarnation of this trend, we seek out relationships with those who help us grow, challenging us to be the best ME we can be. It’s healthy to be a little putty-like, flexible, inspired to try on new interests, characteristics, even personas. And, ideally this is mutual. You both want to meet in the middle, stretching yourselves to be more. In long-term relationships, a sign of health is the ability to adapt to the growth of one’s partner.

(In the worst case scenario, we come to hate the very traits that drew us together in the first place. That spontaneous person fails to follow through on any planning.  The introvert needs more quiet time. We lose track of what we liked about each other at the beginning. But I digress . . .)

The grown-up challenge to the adolescent “but everybody is doing it” refrain may apply, even though you might cringe at the comparison: “Are you really going to jump off a bridge because your best friend is?” Don’t be a lemming, and follow even one other lemming off the cliff if that doesn’t feel consistent with who you are.  Do you have to homeschool your kids because your friends are and the schools do seem so scary and inadequate? Must you embrace S&M just because Fifty Shades of Grey is hiding on everyone’s ebook shelf and it might enliven your own gray sex life, even if the thought seems laughable or offensive to you? Do you have to start running because your partner does and it’s “good for you” when it makes your knees ache?

Check out this checklist about sacrificing too much for a relationship. When considering what and how much to change when the inevitable push comes from those we love, it is important to be mindful, thoughtful, careful in evaluating what parts of ourselves we do want to alter. Is this inherently good for me? Can this person inspire in me a healthy degree of change, versus complete transformation or loss of me? Will this benefit me outside of this relationship? Is this consistent with my values? What do I want to do?

The biggest challenge of our lives is to be our own version of our best selves, in the face of pressure to be someone else’s ideal, whether that someone is a loved one or the culture. Be neither a sponge–squashed and shaped to others’ ideals– nor a brick–rigid and unaffected–in your own continual evolution to be YOU.

 

Just say no!

A good firm “no” is hard to come by in most women’s lives–and we’re not talking about the campaign related to drugs that most of us heard in middle school. Socialized as we are to please others, we buy into the unrealistic expectation that pleasing is even perfectly possible.  And so we say “yes”–to another event, another task, another responsibility, all in the hopes of making everybody happy. Creating happiness and getting approval are worthy goals–until we find ourselves getting pulled into the depths of too much responsibility. The Berenstain Bears and the Over-committed Woman never made it into print, and Jan Berenstain, coauthor of that series, died last month at the age of 88. So I guess we won’t get to read that one over and over at bedtime.

I learn so much from my clients; thanks to one for this shift in perspective on saying “no.” Every time we say “no,” we are actually saying “yes” to something else. This realization freed me a great deal, as it settled into my brain, allowing some old perceptions to release and drift away like the cotton from the North Texas trees. Wow. Sayng no to another work commitment means saying yes to more down time. “No” to a second helping translates to “yes” to a smaller size. “No” to a volunteer job turns into “yes” to time to vacuum my own kitchen floor, reaping the benefits of greater control of my home. Or maybe saying no to bothering about dust bunnies and scattered cat litter means saying yes to time for creativity. Letting go of anger–“no, I don’t have to react to that”– opens the way for compassion to flow in.  “Yes,” replacing negative feeling for positive, like water finding it’s level.

A simple little word. It’s another powerful shift in perspective, just the kind I love, that can transform the whole world. What can you say “yes” to today?

“No” to a longer blog means “yes” to running off to yoga.

Love Shouldn’t Hurt

The fable goes that you can boil a frog alive. Just immerse the frog into a big pot of room temperature water, place the pot on the burner, and ever so slowly raise the heat. The temperature will rise so slowly that the frog will not notice. The frog’s body acclimates to the water as it gets hotter and hotter, and before the creature knows what’s happening, it succumbs, simmered to death.

In partner relationships, emotional abuse can sneak up in just this subtle way. In many families, teasing is a way to show love. As a teen or adult, you may tolerate such teasing, oblivious to the often inherent, yet thinly-veiled criticism. One woman put up with taunts of “clumsy,” which her partner turned into a nickname, “clumsy Clara.” Even though he insisted it was a term of endearment, she had not come from a teasing family and to her it was an insult. Over the course of the relationship as positive interaction declined, this label hurt more and more, affecting her self-image. It became a self-fulfilling prophecy; she tripped much more often when her critical partner was around. The socially-accepted vehicle of teasing also allowed her partner to up the ante, and he soon became overtly abusive with his words, worsening his taunts.

Emotional abuse is any behavior that is designed to control and dominate another, especially through humiliation, intimidation, and guilt. While we might recognize name-calling and constant, overt criticism as abusive, I think we need to call attention to more subtle tactics, such as repeated disapproval or even the perfectionistic demands of a partner who can never be pleased. One woman’s husband constantly chided her to work a little smarter in running their busy household. They had five children, all under the age of six. The poor woman was doing a respectable home-making job and the children were happy and healthy. But the fact that their home was not magazine-perfect allegedly authorized him to continue his criticism of her performance.

John Gottman, one of the premiere marital researchers in the United States, has identified such criticism and contempt as patterns that sound the death knell for a relationship. Criticism that involves attacks on personality or character, with the intent of making one person right and one wrong, is abusive: “You always,” “You never,” “You’re that type.” Contempt involves attacks on sense of self, with the intent to insult. Name-calling, sarcastic teasing, and nonverbal expressions such as eye-rolling and sneering are included. A third pattern that falls into this simmering pattern of abuse is stonewalling: withdrawal from the relationship to avoid conflict. This can be seen as trying to be neutral, but when stony silence, distancing, and disconnection convey disapproval, contempt and/or smugness, the effect is emotionally damaging.

The lesson of the frog becomes relevant as subtlety and sophistication of the abuse increases. In current culture, an accepted premise is that we must compromise for relationships to succeed. To stand ground on some issues, to refuse to sacrifice one’s wishes, is seen as a selfish threat to the relationship. This assumption may be true, in extremes. But the degree to which many women have accepted this directive sets us up for emotional abuse.

People-pleasing is socialized in girls from an early age, by phrases such as “did you hurt your friend’s feelings?”, or “don’t make Mommy mad”. We’re good girls. We want to get along. In the name of compromise, too often we internalize the unrealistic expectations of others for our behavior. After all, we already hold June Cleaver standards for ourselves. Or we lower our tolerance for another’s behavior; he’s stressed, she’s tired, he’s overworked. Criticism, impossible standards, or another’s temper are crosses we think we must bear to make the relationship work. We don’t see that the temperature is rising. The emotional abuse begins to wash away our self-esteem and confidence, much as boiling vegetables leaches out all the nutrients.

Healthy compromise is essential to relationships. Compromise, not sacrifice. When we sacrifice parts of ourselves to subtle efforts to control us, this is emotional abuse. The biggest mistake I see in women is this sacrifice, this loss of one’s self in order to make a relationship work. (This can happen without emotionally-abusive pressure from a partner. But such abuse accelerates the process.) In any significant relationship, the ideal is that our partners affirm us, allowing us to be our best selves, rather than attempting to recreate who we are. Compromise is about events and preferences, not changing self to fit another’s model. Compromise needs to be balanced, with both parties giving and taking. Sacrifice involves losing your strength and sense of self for the sake of the relationship, in a one-sided battle. And emotional abuse in the form of stonewalling, contempt, and endless criticism is a powerful vehicle to this loss of self.

The first step in freeing ourselves from the simmering pot of emotional abuse is awareness. We need to step outside ourselves and question. Who says this is an okay way to be treated? As a culture, we have an odd double standard, allowing behavior in couple relationships that we’d never tolerate elsewhere. If you are being chastised, teased, criticized, judged–verbally or nonverbally– in a close relationship, do a reality check. Is this any way to treat another human being? If you would not treat a friend or a coworker in this manner, speak up. “No one deserves to be treated like this” is a powerful statement to confront the abuse. Love should not hurt.

This post appeared earlier on the 411 Voices website as part of this month’s campaign, “Love Should Not Hurt.”

Grade on the curve

Racing through our daily lives, maintaining the breakneck pace that seems essential to not sink in today’s economy (or with current standards for parenting), you are normal if you check out the competition. How is your neighbor doing? Or your coworker? Are you the only one treading water, trying not to get sucked into the undertow? This type of social comparison seems as essential to our self-image as the pace itself. And, like most of us, you are certain that you are the only one struggling. Everyone else seems to be breezing along, gaily checking off items on their “to do” lists, while you can’t find that shred of McDonald’s placement scribbled with the grocery list. It’s probably under the bed with the dust bunnies which are steadily approaching the size of county fair champion rabbits.

NEWS FLASH: Everyone is in the same boat. No one is achieving 110%. Everyone is compromising, economizing, or sighing at day’s end because something got dropped. I say it’s about time to give ourselves a grade based on the curve.

Remember grading on the curve in school? If a test was particularly difficult, and no one achieved a perfect score, the grading scale was adjusted. A score of 80% could then be the highest grade anyone received, and all the grades were raised accordingly.

In high school, I was the curve-wrecker. Called this lovely term by one and all, and factually it probably was true. But once real life hit (aka children), I lost–and have never regained– that ability to be on time, have all the dishes loaded, dust under the bed, balance the work load, throw the perfect party while I remodel the house and author a book. I maintain a facade just like everyone else. Once I allowed myself to switch gears and adopt a new strategy, the curve wrecker mentality happily fizzled out.

By my informal assessment, in my life and my office, we each heartily believe that we are the only person doing “B” work. Sounds to me like everybody is doing B work, and it’s time for the curve. The daily expectations are for perfection–A++, 110%–and by definition, that’s impossible.

Embrace that you are doing the best you can. It’s your best, and what others are achieving has nothing to do with you. But here’s the secret: no one is actually getting 100% done. Let’s just all admit that and activate that grading curve next time we are tempted to compare our accomplishments to the next person.

The most essential gift

Scurrying to and fro, compiling lists, searching for ideas on the interwebs, as hours dissolve into thin air–all to nail down the perfect gift for everyone on your list? There’s that impossible challenge again: the perfection quest. There is a gift that we can give to family, friends, loved ones, co-workers, that no one is going to return or reject. In my experience, at least, listening to countless souls, whether in office, classroom, or my personal life.

What is this magical–yet free, readily available, no need to wait for free shipping or that deep discount sale–gift? Validation. Empathy. Listening and offering a heartfelt expression of “poor baby.” “I get it; I SO know where you are coming from.” “How hard.” “Yes, that sucks.” We have a universal need to have our emotional experience confirmed. Validation helps us feel normal; whatever we are feeling has been experienced by others. It lets us feel connected; if others can identify and get it, we must not be alone.

Offering validation is just like kissing boo-boos. Kissing boo-boos works, whether dispensed by actually touching a skinned knee or uttering simple words through those lips. Recent research has shown that the touch of a mother’s lips on a child’s bumps, bruises, and scrapes actually causes a chemical reaction that speeds healing. And in other research, the sound of a mother’s voice on the telephone released the hormone oxytocin, to calm the anxieties of girls just as well as having an actual hug from mom.

Mid-November, I was excited and geared up to FINALLY install the wooden floor in the ongoing (inching toward two years) bedroom remodeling project at my house. I spent nearly a whole day clearing out the bedroom, a pile of work-related detritus overflowing from the adjacent bathroom remodel. I had carefully shopped for the ideal flooring, settling on a brand I’d used previously because it had worked so well. I picked up the special-order flooring on Weds., allowing the requisite 48 hours for the flooring to acclimate to my home before the install. Saturday morning, I gleefully opened the boxes and launched into the piles of click-lock floor. Opening three full boxes yielded only three boards without flaws. I was frustrated, close to tears as I loaded the flooring into the car to return to the home store.

Expressing my frustration to the first four people I encountered only increased my pain, as each readily stepped up to the task of loading, unloading, returning the goods–without one validating comment. Not one “poor baby” “how frustrating” “I’m sorry that happened to you” phrase was uttered. They all just looked at me blankly, and did what they needed to do. The true gifts came first from my daughter, via phone, with her succinct validation: “that sucks!” and later when my mom called that evening. Upon hearing my sad lament about the stalled-once-more project, my mother promptly exclaimed “how devastating. You sound so disappointed. I’m so sorry.” I could really hear the empathy in her voice, and she’s my mom, and I felt truly better, finally.

As I’ve noted before, we readily offer compassion and acceptance to our children, while being hard on ourselves. This gift of acknowledgement of emotions has no “2-12 years” limit. And while mom’s voice gives it added oomph, anyone can give this validation. The key essential ingredients are that you truly get the other’s feelings, even if you haven’t been there yourself exactly. You dig down deep and remember a time when you were sad, frustrated, or angry, and you offer that validation. And healing begins.

Not just a gift for the winter holidays, either. Always in season.

Truth in advertising

The phone rang. I still have a land line, though callers on that line other than political, nonprofit, and home remodeling solicitors are few. So I check the caller ID before I pick up. And this is what I saw:

I was literally rolling on the floor laughing. How transparent! I didn’t pick it up (hmm, did I really need to clarify that point?). The machine did, promptly recording a message about the super low interest rate I could receive on my credit card if I’d just call promptly. I wondered how this happened. What company lists it’s business name as “phone scam”? Really?!?

The more I pondered, however, the more impressed I became. How freeing, to be able to be completely honest about who you are. Moving through life, how often do we truly embrace this concept? It’s a socially-accepted construct to put our best self forward. Everyone wants to look like they’re breezing through life, no problems, loving their lives, ever-confident. Sounds like another version of pretending to be superman/woman to me.

It takes so much energy to hold up that mask. Exhausting after awhile. It also distances us from each other. We back off on sharing trials, angst-ridden moments, frustrations, fearing that we will look weak. Certainly we are the only ones stumbling, since no one else talks about it. Must be we are deficient. The problem seems our ability to excel–not the less-than-honest story-telling.

When I turned 50, the impact of having lived half a century felt heavy. I no longer wanted to put on a front, hiding my true self. And I ran with the sudden impulse to present myself as I am. Some friends drifted away, confused looks on their faces as I spoke up in matter-of-fact ways they’d never witnessed. Some activities I let slide. I got pretty good at saying “I don’t know” and “I’m sorry, I screwed up” and “I disagree” and “Please don’t treat me that way.” I started honestly living my full warty self.

I’m human. I make mistakes. I’m good at many things and lousy at others. Being honest about who I am is freeing, and while difficult at first, appears to take less energy eventually, leaving more for creating the life I want to live. Proclaiming the equivalent of “phone scam” in my own life is not a single event, however. It’s a step down the path to living the right life. This step for me was important ground work for growth, for embracing self-compassion, for building a life infused with joy.

It’s not a super path

Superman/woman syndrome is a sneaky snake in current culture. No matter how many times we’ve heard it, somewhere deep within we harbor the feeling that we can do it all, being all things to all people. This myth dies hard. In straight thinking moments–or days–we embrace the bunk that is superwoman/man, and free ourselves from those expectations. Hurray for a small dose of reality.

However, even when we readily admit that we can’t achieve superpowers, a sneaky leftover part of that drive to be super deserves the ‘who says’ challenge: beliefs about the path to change. We still expect to be like Superman himself, clearing buildings in a single bound. The one-click culture encourages us to expect change to happen just like that. Click off the old behavior, click on the new. Door open or door closed. Instant change and everything is now rosy–i.e. perfect.

Magic wand at the ready, I wish it were this way myself. (Though of course that would mean I was out of a job and I’m not quite ready to retire.) The reality is that it’s a path, often a twisting path at that. It’s two steps forward, then one back. Or it’s a spiral, my favorite illustration about moving toward change, cycling by the same issues again and again, reworking and fine-tuning as we make our way to the goal at the top.

Accepting this winding path as reality stops that old automatic “failure” thinking. When we stumble, or it seems that we are NOT achieving that goal in a single leap, we lose track of the big picture. We conclude that we’ve failed. Time to step back and see that you are on the path. It’s just not a single step, or even a song and dance two-step.

Have a little self-compassion. No single leaps aided by a ruby cape. Just steadily wind your way up the stairs, or along the path, and you’ll soon be where you wish to be. Enjoy the climb.