Listen And Silent Are Spelled With The Same Letters

Have you ever looked at someone and just thought, “Will you PLEASE shut the fuck up?!” Chances are good that at some point in your life you’ve dealt with someone who consistently frustrated you. Maybe you start avoiding them. And if that’s not possible, you try to keep any conversation or interaction with them to a minimum. You resign yourself to the thought that this person is never going to change their behavior. But it’s not about changing or fixing them. They are not broken machines in need of repair. They are human beings-your family, friends, neighbors, or coworkers.

I have always been a problem solver. Throughout the years I have offered advice and suggestions that I thought would help people. Unfortunately, it’s an approach that has backfired at times. People can get very defensive and lash out when given unsolicited advice. Myself included. After umpteen thirty-leven unpleasant interactions, I decided I had to take a step back in order to preserve my own sanity and well-being. I avoided getting into anything but the most mundane conversations with many people. I refused to talk about politics, religion, or other sensitive topics. Just ask G. I was adamant that politics was a topic that I wouldn’t touch with a ten foot pole.

I realized that a lot of the issue came down to the way I had been listening to others. Or, more accurately, the fact I that I wasn’t truly listening. I needed to learn that sound listening skills can give someone the room to change the behaviors that negatively impact their lives and those around them.

Do you think of yourself as a good listener? I thought I was. Odds are that most people overestimate how much listening they actually do during a conversation. When someone is speaking, are you really paying attention? Or are you formulating your response before they’ve even finished their sentence?

I would often be preoccupied with thinking of solutions for other people’s problems while they’re speaking. Sometimes I’d even interrupt them in order to not forget my own train of thought. It’s natural to want to share our experiences and suggestions that we believe will help others when they’re upset. We want our loved ones to be happy and to feel better soon, but soon is a relative term and is different for everyone. We all want and need to feel supported and accepted, regardless of our mood. Unfortunately, the way we express our concern to others isn’t always well received. I failed to understand that people weren’t asking for my advice. They simply wanted me to listen. Sometimes they just want to vent. And they ABSOLUTELY do not want to be told how they should feel.

I’ve learned to remind myself that in many cases, the less said, the better. Listening is about being present and being mindful. Sometimes a simple nod of the head or eye contact can be a powerful acknowledgement and validating signal of support for others. These seemingly small acts show that you’re focusing on what they are saying. They also indicate that you are prioritizing their feelings over your own. And they are subtle enough expressions to avoid interrupting their train of thought. I’ve found it helpful to remember that validation does not equal approval. You don’t have to agree with others or approve of their behavior to effectively acknowledge their feelings.

Sometimes the best advice is none at all. It’s not easy to resist the temptation to dispense advice to someone who we think needs help. But the danger of offering unsolicited advice to someone is that it can show a lack of faith in them. My well intended but untimely suggestions came across as condescending and judgmental. People interpreted them as challenges to their competency and doubts in their ability to manage their own life. I was indirectly telling them that I didn’t believe in their ability to change.

The next time someone is about to drive you nuts, give them some space to speak and express their emotions freely. Being around people who are unhappy can be unsettling, but we should try to understand that people don’t need us to fix them or even cheer them up. They just want someone to hold their hand now and then. Trust them to do the best they can at that moment. Listen and silent are spelled with the same letters. Think about it.

We Have To Feel It To Heal It

Why do we feel the need to hide our struggles and present ourselves as having our shit together? Why do any of us feel the need to appear more put together than we really are?

We are emotional creatures, and we were born to express emotions freely and openly. But somewhere along the way, many of us learned to repress our emotions in order to fit in, earn love, or to be accepted. We hide our struggles because we learned throughout childhood and adulthood that showing signs of struggle is a bad or uncomfortable thing.

As infants and toddlers, we didn’t hesitate to show signs of struggle. When we were tired, hungry, upset, or blew out our diapers 💩, we cried or threw tantrums to communicate that we needed help. As young children in school, we raised our hands and asked for help from our teachers if we didn’t understand something.

But at some point while growing up, we become conditioned to stop asking for help and we start to hide our struggles. We stop raising our hands in class because we’re told we ask too many questions. We stop asking our parents for help because they told us to figure it out for ourselves. Increased expectations from our family, friends, employers, and even ourselves feels like mounting pressure. We’re so afraid of doing or saying the wrong thing that we paralyze ourselves and do nothing. We fear that negative response of not receiving help when we need it or our feelings being dismissed.

I grew up in a home where the motto was “Children are to be seen, not heard.” There was little emotional expression tolerated, let alone accepted. No one validated or helped me process difficult emotions in a healthy way. Anger was met with anger, fear went unacknowledged, and there was plenty of shame to go around. My parents didn’t model how to deal with difficult emotions, as they seemed to struggle with that themselves. When those emotions surfaced, I felt ashamed of my failure to be a “good girl.” Trying to hide the pain from others and myself, I built walls, put on masks, and soldiered on.

The truth is, we all hide our emotions occasionally. We pretend, avoid, and deny uncomfortable emotions as a defense mechanism. We do this most often with difficult emotions like guilt, shame, fear, or anger. When we experience events that emotionally overwhelm us and we’re unable to process what is happening, we hide them deep inside us where others can’t see them. And we end up hiding them from ourselves too. Yet, they’re still there. These unresolved emotions get trapped in our body where they build and fester. They drain our energy, which leads to burnout, and we become emotionally imbalanced. They undermine our overall wellbeing.

No matter what our struggles are, there are people who can and want to help. When we share our struggles with those around us, we give them permission to voice their struggles too. We may never know just how life changing that permission may be to someone. They may be feeling alone, overwhelmed, or even at the end of their rope, and we can help by giving them an opportunity to receive our understanding and support. The moment we make ourselves vulnerable, we give others permission to do the same.

The bottom line is, we’re human. We’re all imperfect and we all struggle. No one has their shit together all the time. No one has a perfect life and no one feels happy, confident, and positive all the time. Struggling is a normal part of life. We have to feel it to heal it.

Expectations Aren’t Guarantees

I’ve always had high expectations for myself. I expected to go to college. I expected to graduate at the top of my class. I expected to have a career in healthcare. I expected to have a job lined up before I graduated from college. I expected to get married, buy a house, and for us to have children. I expected to travel the world before and after retirement.

I had a very linear view of life. I believed that by working hard and “doing what I’m supposed to do,” I would go from point A to B to C. News flash: Life is NOT that simple.

In July 2018 I had my first anaphylactic reaction after labeling bottles of breast milk for babies in the NICU at a local hospital. I knew of my allergy to the chemical mercaptobenzothiazole, but only associated it with gloves at the time. I wasn’t aware of how extensive the chemical was until the allergist told me. It’s found in rubber and adhesive products, as well as gloves and latex. Common items such as rubber bands, ear phones, erasers, rubber soles on shoes and boots, band-aids, elastic in underwear and swimsuits, tape, and glue would now spark life threatening allergic reactions if I came in contact with them. Even the residue of a rubber band that used to be on a pen was enough to cause an anaphylactic reaction. That’s how sensitive my body is to this chemical.

For months I kept trying to go back to work. I expected to return to work. But my health continued to decline and I was hospitalized every few weeks to every few months for allergic reactions, severe asthma, or hereditary angioedema flares. I spent days in the ICU on the ventilator each admission. Ultimately It was determined by a judge that there was not a single job that I could do based on my medical conditions.

Out of left field, the life I expected was gone. I never considered the possibility of becoming disabled at the age of thirty seven. I was thrown into a new reality of gnarled, tangled grief. I had to accept the painful realization that the life I knew, the one that I expected to live, was gone. It felt like everything in my life that I worked so hard to accomplish was being ripped out from under me. You aren’t prepared for the complete life shift that happens when you get diagnosed with an illness that can ultimately be your demise.

My expectations were nothing more than thoughts in my mind. Assumptions based on what I wanted at the time, or “that’s the normal thing to do,” or “that’s what so and so wants me to do.” We all want to live a happy and fulfilling life, but our expectations aren’t guarantees.

We tend to think the bad stuff we hear about only happens to other people. We’re aware that it exists. But we feel like it’s just some abstract thing happening somewhere else. Until it happens to us.

I had to accept and learn to live with the limitations of my new life. At first, disappointment pooled inside of me like poison. Nothing I could do was good enough in my eyes. I wanted to do more. I expected myself to do more. I found myself floundering in a new reality where I felt like I was constantly failing. But I had to gain a new perspective when setbacks occurred and stop feeling like individual moments were the be-all, end-all. I needed to become less attached to a prescribed way of living.

I had to let my old self go. I had to mourn the person who was staring back at me in the mirror every day and essentially bury her. I kept comparing myself to who I used to be and that’s not who I am anymore.

I still grieve the old me. I miss the badass I used to be. I miss being accountable to my career and work ethic. I grieve my old self whenever I am feeling defeated, especially when I am reminded that a simple task requires a lot of modification to do. Basic things that people take for granted. Like climbing stairs. Tying shoes. Standing long enough to take a shower. Opening the mail. Buying produce at a market. Licking an envelope to seal it.

There will be days when life feels awful. You will feel pain, loneliness, and fear that can be heartbreaking. Maybe you cry to yourself, “This isn’t the life I chose.” Perhaps you feel like “I don’t deserve this” or “This is so unfair.” You aren’t broken for thinking this way. These feelings are not reflections of who you are, nor are they any indication of what your future looks like. Our feelings are not permanent residents, but merely temporary visitors who come and go.

The tediousness of my new life wears me down to the core sometimes. Some days I still grieve the loss of the life that I expected to live. When these feelings visit me, I acknowledge the pain. I lower my expectations of productivity. I give myself permission to rest while I process my thoughts and feelings. I tell myself it’s ok to fall down. Then I get back up, dust myself off, and move on.

Acceptance Is The Key To Be Truly Free

Acceptance is imperfect. It’s difficult and messy, but ultimately leads to a sense of freedom. I’ve had a lot of painful experiences in my life that I needed to accept. Choosing acceptance has been crucial in helping me move past my feelings of fear and frustration when life throws me a curve ball.

A few years ago I was diagnosed with a life threatening allergy, a mast cell disorder, hereditary angioedema, and my asthma rapidly worsened. I was in and out of the hospital every few weeks, on and off the ventilator most of those hospitalizations, and unable to completely care for myself. My husband became my caretaker and our home became filled with adaptations. From grabbers and shower chairs, to hand rails, canes, and a basket filled with medications that would put Mommom’s pill basket to shame. Everyday there’s 31 pills to take, plus 3 nebulizer meds every 4-6 hours, 2 different types of insulin, 2 inhalers, 1 injection for osteoporosis, and a partridge in a pear tree.

My career as a medical techologist in the blood bank came to a screeching halt. My life threatening allergy alone made me a liability that no employer wanted to take on. Hearing a judge declare that there is no job I am eligible for was like getting punched with a forearm shiver. My illnesses initially caused so much loss and disappointment. I was dealing with the fear of exposure to my allergy, the shame of unemployment, and the guilt of not being the active wife, granddaughter, and friend I wanted to be. I didn’t want to accept that this would be my life. A life without a career. A life revolving around my medical care. A life where I was no longer independent. A body I no longer recognized. I wanted to go back to the way things were and patch the life that I knew back together again. I felt like accepting my illness was accepting defeat.

So how did I move from a position of resistance to one of acceptance? How can we find some wiggle room in situations that may feel utterly suffocating? Chocolate and chicken nuggets help, but what really grabbed me by the short hairs was realizing that if you focus on the hurt, you will continue to suffer.

All human life is fragile and sickness doesn’t discriminate. Pain is inevitable for all of us, but life is constantly in a state of flux. We hurt, we heal. We struggle, we grow. Things get hard, then things get easier. If I were Jerry Seinfeld and my friend had just thrown $20 out the window, I would end up finding $20 in my coat pocket. I would be Even Steven.

My daily life is a well choreographed ballet of organized chaos. Every meal, medication, breathing treatment, finger stick, and insulin injection has to be perfectly timed. Even mundane tasks like washing laundry, cleaning dishes, taking a shower, and watering the plants have to be balanced with my medical care. Any deviation can cause a setback in my health. Then the dance pivots and it’s a race against the clock to see if we can manage my illness at home, or the ballet stops and we have to go to the hospital.

I have learned that acceptance is not defeat, resignation, or giving up. It is an acknowledgment of the truth. By making peace with our reality, we remove the sting of our emotional suffering. This gives us an opportunity to become unstuck and make the best of the hand we are dealt. Once we accept our situation, we can move forward with greater courage, determination, and strength.

There is so much beauty in the world to balance the pain. When we accept what is and enjoy what we can, peace becomes possible, and then we are truly free.

Rebuild Relationships with Fresh Experiences Instead of Sour Expectations

People won’t always be who you want them to be. Some will let you down. Some will show up when you least expect it. Some will drift away. Some will grow with you. Some will see things the same as you. Some will see things differently. Some will test you. Some will teach you. Some will use you. Some will bring out the best in you.

It’s a tough pill to swallow realizing that the people who are supposed to protect you and love you are sometimes going to hurt you. I was estranged from my parents for eight years. Growing up I was a very independent child and didn’t require much attention or assistance with things. I believed that parents should help their children in the ways each child needed. I felt that my siblings received that help from our parents but I did not. You know me, I can’t keep my mouth shut. So I vocalized my disappointment to my parents. Over. And over. And over again. But the result was always the same. A trifling ass argument between me and my father while my mother just cried.

When my siblings needed financial assistance with a car, our parents provided it. For me, nada. When I needed my parents to cosign student loans so I could attend college, the answer was a firm no. When I was scheduled for multiple surgeries, my mom offered to come help me. Then she canceled at the last minute every time. But when my sister was ill and needed surgery, mom and dad were there to help her. Eventually I was no longer receptive to any help from my parents because I expected them to bail on me. And I got sick and tired of explaining how I felt to them, only for the conversation to turn into an argument. Every. Fucking. Time. I was fed up with them invalidating my feelings. I made one last ditch effort to talk through our problems, but that went tits up as usual, and my parents and I parted ways.

Mommom’s funeral was the first time I had seen or spoken to my parents in eight years. They seemed shocked and scared by how sick I looked. Less than a week later, I was in the hospital on a ventilator due to an anaphylactic reaction. They started contacting me regularly after that, asking questions about my medical conditions. There seems to be a genuine interest in wanting to understand how I manage my daily life with a life threatening allergy, mast cell disorder, severe asthma, and hereditary angioedema. Their interest in trying to understand my medical conditions and taking precautions to keep me safe is the kind of help I would want and expect from a parent.

Sometimes what we see in other people can be a projection of our own attitudes or beliefs toward them, and not necessarily a reflection of their actual behavior. I had to learn to let go of that projection before I could learn to forgive my parents. And I had to learn to forgive them before I could rebuild a relationship with them.

There were moments I had trouble letting go of my expectations of who my parents should be and what they should do. Eventually I realized that I had to accept things the way they were, NOT the way I wished for them to be. Sometimes letting go of someone means releasing your grip on the idea of who they should be.

I learned to forgive my parents when I stopped seeing them as the idea of what I thought parents should be. This wasn’t an easy process because I had to face shortcomings in my parents as well as myself. For me, it was my determination to prove my point. With my parents, it was their lack of help when I needed it.

Life is a series of turning points. We get to choose whether we stay in the same place, move forward, or decide it’s time to turn around and start again. My parents and I didn’t agree to disagree. There were no apologies or hashing out of old shit. We just agreed that we wanted peace and to move forward. Since then, I have been able to start rebuilding a relationship with my family based on fresh experiences instead of sour expectations.

Rolling With The Punches

Chronic illness paients are a unique kind of creature that many people don’t talk about or understand.

We condition ourselves to roll with the punches. No matter how brutal things get, we keep rolling. Our life depends on it.

Our eyes see the unfathomable, sights that would keep a healthy person awake at night. And yet we roll.

We try to not take things in life too seriously. We know how delicate and brief it truly is. We are reminded of this every day, so we keep rolling.

We face frequent doctor visits, medical tests, treatments, and hospital stays. We hold out our arms, knowing pain is coming, but also subconsciously knowing it’s necessary in order to help us. And yet, we keep getting back up and continue rolling.

We are resilient, but at the same time, it’s a heavy burden. Our hearts feel things differently from those who are protected from this type of consistent and repeated adversity. We cope, perhaps too well. We don’t crumble under life’s pressures. We embrace them and keep rolling with the punches. 

Sometimes we appear cold and emotionally unavailable. We can be seen as unapproachable. We come off as bossy because we have to advocate for our own health and safety.

You will never see the world through our eyes. If we love you, we wouldn’t want you to. We do our damndest to protect you from it. We tend to downplay our situation. Sometimes you won’t even know we’re in the midst of a Category 5 medical hurricane. We walk from hell to healing knowing we still have a long way to go. But we keep rolling without batting an eye.

Please be patient and kind with us. You never know what battlefield we’re walking through. But what you will see is us rolling with the punches. Always.

Do You Give Until It Hurts?

“I give and give and give, and what do I get? Nothing.” If you have ever muttered or thought these words, you probably gave until it hurt, bending over backwards trying to make others happy.

Growing up I believed that my virtue and worth lied in my ability to take care of those around me. If I did a good job then everyone around me would be happy. I saw my grandmother meet this standard to a T. She put everyone else before herself and never wanted to be a bother to anyone.

As a kid, I was taught how to care for others. I got a lot of practice caring for my younger sister, especially when she was an infant because we shared a bedroom together. I would feed her, change her, and give her a pacifier when she cried in the middle of the night. As a teenager, I would pull weeds from neighbor’s gardens and driveways, or babysit the children at church during potluck dinners and events. I was determined to never leave anyone high and dry. Family, friends, and coworkers knew that I was dependable and could be counted on when they needed me.

One thing about giving to others is that it makes us feels good… until it doesn’t. When helping people starts to feel more exhausting than joyful, you might be inclined to keep giving more. Some people believe that the more you give to others, the more you will receive in return from them. But this is often not the case. You may end up feeling isolated and disappointed because you aren’t getting as much in return as you are giving to others. You end up putting yourself on the back burner and giving to everyone but yourself.

If you always say yes to everyone who needs your help, then saying no can be extremely difficult; especially if you have been conditioned to wrap your self worth up in pleasing others. We often sacrifice ourselves in order to help others and we tend to feel guilty if we put ourselves first.

Your self-worth is determined by how much love and care you direct toward yourself, not others. It is unrealistic to expect anyone to anticipate your needs and take care of you. This leads to assumptions and you know what happens when you assume. You make an ass out of u and me. 😁

Part of taking care of yourself is being nice to yourself. Stop talking down to yourself. If you wouldn’t do it or say it to someone else, vow to never do it or say it to yourself. There is no glory in disparaging yourself. Sacrificing your wellbeing because you don’t want to hurt someone else’s feelings is not an act of humility. Your feelings and needs matter as much as anyone else’s, but you can only honor them if you recognize and prioritize them.

Wish It Want It Do It

If you follow influencers on social media telling you to hustle, it might inspire you to read “Wish It, Want It, Do It” and use the blank pages to start mapping out your grandiose plans. 😁

While you’re riding this wave of motivation, you’ll probably jot down some monumental aspirations that will paint a picture of a life so exciting that you can’t wait to get after it. But when your alarm goes off at 4:30am and you try to roll out of bed, reality slaps you in the face.

Instead of being motivated to jump out of bed and tackle your goals, you feel a wall of internal resistance. You want to hustle. You know you need to get up and go after it. But you can’t seem to muster up the discipline to actually do anything.

So instead, you choose the path of least resistance. You stay nestled up in your warm toasty bed and decide that you’re going to start fresh tomorrow. One more day won’t hurt anything, right? One day turns into two, two days turn into a few weeks, and the weeks turn into months. Several months later you feel another wave of motivation and decide to try all over again. Many people find themselves unable to get off this proverbial hamster wheel.

Why is it that we continually set Mount Everest size goals and don’t accomplish them? You might ask yourself “Is there something wrong with me? Am I a failure?” So how do you stop this vicious cycle? What’s the best way to facilitate lifestyle changes that you can actually stick with?

When setting big goals, we tend to place more focus on the outcome we want to achieve instead of the lifestyle changes needed to get there. We have this inner pull to be consistent with who we’ve always been. Old habits die hard, which is why big goals can be so hard to accomplish. True behavior change comes when you commit to small, consistent shifts in your daily behavior.

When setting goals, people ask themselves “What do I want to achieve?” This places the focus solely on the outcome. The idea of focusing on lifestyle changes is that your success is not tied to arbitrary targets.

Let’s say that you set a goal to lose twenty pounds in four months. As you pursue this goal, you start exercising 4 days a week, eating more vegetables, and limiting desserts. After four months of these lifestyle changes, you step on the scale and you’ve lost fifteen pounds.

Did you achieve your goal of losing twenty pounds? Noop. You’re five pounds short. Damn! Now you feel like shit because you failed to meet your goal. 😞 But what if your goal was to become a healthier person? Did you achieve that goal? Hell yeah ya did!

Too often we convince ourselves that massive success requires massive action. True behavior change is the product of small, incremental changes compounded over time. We tend to dismiss the effectiveness of small actions because they don’t make an immediate visible impact. But once small habits are solidified into your daily life, you’ll be a stronger version of you.

Badass Warrior Queen

Badass women are not raised in comfort. We are not formed with ease and grace. We are made of fire and storms. We are made of the stuff that should have broken us but didn’t. -Brooke Hampton

I am often asked “How do you do it?” Or I am told “I don’t know how you do it,” or “I don’t know what I would do if I were in your shoes.” But the truth is, you could do it too. I don’t have superhuman powers. I put my underwear and pants on one leg at a time just like everyone else. Living with multiple rare medical conditions can be as hard for me as you imagine it might be for you. I wasn’t automatically given the knowledge and strength to cope with this situation.

Some days it’s hard. REALLY HARD. There are constant days of doctor appointments, breathing treatments, medication pick ups, insulin adjustments, ensuring I have enough medical supplies, not to mention the hours spent on the phone correcting medical billing errors and answering emails to keep my doctors updated.

I know better than to compare myself to others, but I would be lying if I didn’t say it feels like a kick in the nards watching other people do normal daily activities. It’s hard not to think of all the things I “should be” doing. I “should be” working, I “should be” running errands, I “should be” cleaning, I “should be” exercising. Day to day stuff often gets pushed aside. If I sit still, there is something that isn’t getting done in that moment, and I know it. And sometimes I feel guilty about it.

I don’t get out much and I don’t have visitors often. Friendships and relationships can be hard to develop and maintain when so much of my life revolves around my medical care. That doesn’t mean I don’t long for those connections, though. I am thankful for the people who join in and are a part of my world.

I see people traveling for vacation and I can’t. I miss that. I see people spending their days outside enjoying the beaches and parks and I can’t. I miss that. People are able to get vaccinated to protect themselves and others and I can’t. People are starting to resume all the freedom their healthy lives provide and I can’t. Not yet. Life can be overwhelming and emotional. My mind, heart, and body get tired at times. I won’t let that stop me though.

I am reminded that this is my journey and there are milestones to celebrate. For the first time in over a year I was able to enjoy dinner out in a restaurant. This is really special for me because it shows just how much progress my health is making, especially where I was just on the ventilator in the ICU exactly 2 months ago.

It’s still an adjustment living with and managing multiple medical conditions. It’s a lot of work that is time and energy consuming. Sometimes I have to remind myself to shift my perspective. Life is too short to waste it moping about the hand of cards I have been dealt. So cheers to turning 40 and accepting that even though I Look WAY different on the outside (thank you effin prednisone 🙄), I am still the same feisty, resilient, and badass warrior queen that I always have been 😁

You Repeat What You Don’t Repair

There has been a lot of joy in traveling, laughing at fart jokes, sorrow over loved ones passing away, and loving our kitties over the 18 years that G and I have been together. But there have also been things that he would say or do that left me feeling a bit perturbed at times, like leaving cabinet doors open or using “book words.” That’s when G would say a five dollar word that I don’t know the meaning of when a basic word would have sufficed. Of course things aren’t always peachy keen, and when there has been conflict, my responses definitely haven’t been constructive. Quite often, Mount St. Amy would blow and I would spew out whatever fuckery came to mind in the heat of the moment.

Logically, I knew better than to blow up. So why wasn’t I doing better? Simple. I didn’t want to. At that moment. Of course I regretted my emotional vomit later. But in those heated moments I didn’t give a fuck. All the logic in the world didn’t matter if I lacked the intention to do better during an argument.

We have a tendency to respond to hostile behavior with even more hostility. Whether that’s giving someone the silent treatment, giving them a taste of their own medicine, or cussing someone out (if you want a cussin’ I’ll give you a cussin’! 😉) These actions can create a cycle of anger, judgment, and defensiveness. Often it leads to conflicts that spiral out of control, making them harder to resolve. This level of hostility is destructive, yet we’re all guilty of it at some point, and have probably felt justified in doing so. To get past conflict, we need to want to understand each other more than we want to hurt each other.

In the middle of an argument we may feel the need to defend ourselves, especially if we feel the other person isn’t hearing what we are saying or is dismissive of our feelings. So often we listen to respond instead of listening to understand. It can seem like the other person has the power to hurt us, making us feel insecure. I don’t like how vulnerable I feel when someone says something that is hurtful or disrespectful towards me. It makes me want to retaliate against the MFer. Is that mature? Noop. Helpful? Absolutely not. Does it feel good to use every derivative of the F word in one sentence? Aww hell yeah!

I want my relationships to be made of trust, honesty, and transparent communication. Relationships where we each have the courage to express ourselves without fear of retaliation and would listen to each other with an intent to understand rather than judge. One where we would have compassion for each other’s faults and work to build each other up rather than tear each other down, even when we are upset.

I know that my current responses to conflicts are…shall we say…shitty. So I am trying to shift my intention. Instead of protecting my ego during an argument, my intention is to respond in a constructive way. It requires me opening up when I feel vulnerable. Taking responsibility for my part, even when I want to dump the blame on the other person. Trying to listen with compassion when I feel frustrated or fed up. I don’t want to stay in the vicious cycle of trying to prove who is right and who is wrong. After all, you repeat what you don’t repair.