Accepting Imperfections in Relationships

man and woman closing their eyes

Most people enter relationships with an unspoken hope:
“If this one thing were different, everything would feel better.”

We try to communicate it more clearly.
We try to be patient.
Sometimes, we try to change them—subtly or directly.

But here’s the truth most people avoid:
You cannot change your partner—and trying to often creates the very distance you fear.


Part One: The Ideal Partner

Take a moment and imagine your ideal partner.
Someone who is:

• Emotionally attuned
• Supportive and loving
• Interesting and engaging
• Honest and trustworthy
• Fun, grounded, and available
• Aligned with your values and lifestyle

You may want someone who:

• Listens deeply
• Shares your interests
• Is affectionate and connected
• Gives you space when you need it
• Shows up consistently and reliably

This vision matters.
It reflects your longings, your needs, and your values.

But here’s where the work begins.


Part Two: The Reality of Being Human

Now consider this:
No partner exists without contradiction.

Every person you choose will also come with traits that challenge you.

They may:

• Withdraw when overwhelmed
• Struggle with communication
• Have habits that irritate you
• See the world differently than you do
• Fall short in ways that activate your sensitivity

This is not failure.
This is human complexity.

For example, you may be drawn to a partner who is independent and self-sufficient—
but that same independence may show up as emotional distance when you’re needing closeness.

Or you may love that your partner is easygoing and flexible—
but find yourself frustrated when they avoid structure or difficult conversations.

These are not contradictions to fix.
They are patterns to understand.

In relationships, we are not choosing whether there will be imperfections.
We are choosing which imperfections we are willing to grow with.

This is one of the most important—and often avoided—truths in love.


A More Conscious Question

Instead of asking:
“How do I change my partner?”

The question becomes:
“Can I accept this person as they are, while also honoring what I need?”

This doesn’t mean tolerating harm, disrespect, or emotional neglect.
It means recognizing the difference between:

• True incompatibility
• and
• The discomfort of difference

Growth in relationships often lives in that space.


Part Three: A Practice in Awareness and Acceptance

For the next few days, try a simple but powerful experiment.

Instead of focusing on what frustrates you, gently shift your attention:

• Notice what your partner does well
• Acknowledge the qualities you appreciate
• Observe your urge to criticize or correct—without acting on it

This is not about suppressing your needs.
It’s about becoming aware of how quickly we move toward judgment—and how that impacts connection.

At the same time, turn that reflection inward:

• How do you show up in the relationship?
• Where might you be difficult, avoidant, or reactive?
• What strengths do you bring—and where are your growth edges?

Healthy relationships are not built on perfection.
They are built on mutual awareness, responsibility, and compassion.


Look for the Origin of Your Reactions

When your partner withdraws, becomes distant, or behaves in ways that activate you, pause and ask:

• Does this remind me of earlier relationships—parents, caregivers, or past partners?
• What did I need then that I may not have received?

Often, our strongest emotional reactions are not just about the present moment—
they are echoes of the past.

Practice separating the two:

“That was then. This is now. This situation may feel familiar, but it is not the same.”

From that awareness, a new question emerges:

• Knowing this is different, how do I want to respond differently?


Turning Criticism into Conscious Communication

Instead of reacting from frustration, practice responding from awareness.

Begin with this question:

How can I respond in a way that reflects the person I want to be in this relationship?

Then explore:

• What am I needing right now—emotionally or physically?
• What am I feeling beneath my frustration (hurt, fear, disconnection)?
• How can I express these feelings in a grounded, mature way?
• Is something else in my life contributing to this reaction?
• Have I clearly expressed this need before—or am I hoping they will intuitively understand it without me saying it?

Sometimes we expect our partner to anticipate our needs without clearly expressing them.

This can come from:
• Childhood needs not being fully met
• A longing to feel deeply understood
• The belief that “if they love me, they’ll just know”

But in healthy relationships:
Needs are expressed, not mind-read.

Continue:

• How can I regulate myself before I respond?
• What would it look like to communicate this with honesty instead of blame?
• Have I seen examples of healthy, direct communication—and how can I begin to practice that here?

Much of what we react to in relationships is not just about the present moment—
it is shaped by our nervous system and past experiences.


Final Reflection

Love matures when we stop trying to create the perfect partner…
and begin learning how to relate to an imperfect human being with honesty and care.

This isn’t about settling.
It’s about seeing clearly.

It’s about choosing a relationship where growth is possible—
not because the other person changes,
but because both people are willing to show up with awareness, accountability, and heart.


Call to Action

If you find yourself caught in cycles of frustration, criticism, or trying to change your partner, there is a deeper opportunity available.

At The Courageous Self, I work with individuals and couples to understand relational patterns, improve communication, and create more meaningful, connected partnerships.

You don’t have to keep repeating the same dynamics.
With the right tools and awareness, relationships can become a place of growth, safety, and genuine connection.

If you’re ready to explore what’s possible, I invite you to reach out.

“It’s Not a Big Deal”: What Happens When Our Feelings Are Dismissed

“Until you make the unconscious conscious, it will direct your life and you will call it fate.”
— Carl Jung

Many people grow up learning that certain emotions are inconvenient.

When a child expresses disappointment, hurt, or anger and the response is dismissal, correction, or indifference, the child quickly adapts. In order to maintain connection with caregivers, they begin to minimize their own emotional experience.

They tell themselves:

It’s not a big deal.
I’m overreacting.
I shouldn’t feel this way.

Over time, this becomes automatic. Instead of acknowledging their feelings, they learn to push them aside.

This is the birth of emotional minimization.

Why Children Learn to Minimize

Children depend on their caregivers for safety and connection. When emotional expressions are dismissed or discouraged, the child learns that showing certain feelings disrupts harmony within the relationship.

To preserve attachment, the child adjusts.

Rather than expressing the feeling fully, they reduce its importance.

What appears on the surface as maturity or resilience is often adaptation.

The child learns to stay quiet, move on quickly, and tell themselves that what they felt did not really matter.

Where the Feelings Go

Emotions do not disappear simply because we minimize them.

They are pushed aside rather than processed.

Over time, these unprocessed emotions accumulate beneath the surface.

They do not disappear simply because they were minimized or ignored. Instead, they become part of our emotional history, stored within the body and nervous system.

When a present-day experience resembles an earlier one, that history can become activated. A similar interaction, tone of voice, or relational dynamic may trigger the nervous system and open what can feel like emotional floodgates.

In these moments, the intensity of the reaction is not only about what is happening now. It also reflects layers of earlier experiences that were never fully acknowledged or processed.

From the outside, the response may appear disproportionate to the situation. But internally, the body is responding to a much larger emotional history.

In many ways, this is the body’s natural attempt to resolve what was previously left unresolved.

Why Reactions Grow Stronger Over Time

Each time a feeling is minimized, another layer is added.

Over months and years, the emotional weight of these experiences accumulates. When something in the present moment resembles earlier situations, the reaction can feel surprisingly intense.

Others may say, “You’re being too emotional,” or wonder why the response seems out of proportion.

But the reaction is rarely about a single moment.

It is the combined weight of many moments that were never fully acknowledged or processed.

The body remembers what the mind attempted to dismiss.

Why Minimization Repeats Across Generations

Emotional minimization is rarely learned in isolation. More often, it is passed down across generations.

If a person was raised in an environment where emotions were dismissed or discouraged, they may never have learned how to acknowledge, process, or tolerate their own emotional experiences. As a result, emotions can feel overwhelming or uncomfortable.

When someone has not developed the capacity to sit with their own feelings, witnessing another person openly expressing emotion can feel threatening.

Instead of leaning into curiosity or empathy, the person instinctively tries to reduce the discomfort.

One way this happens is through psychological defense mechanisms.

Defense mechanisms are unconscious strategies the mind uses to protect itself from emotional distress. Psychologists have identified many of these protective responses—such as denial, projection, rationalization, and displacement.

Minimization is one of them.

When someone minimizes another person’s feelings, they are often attempting to reduce their own internal discomfort.

If the emotion is framed as “not a big deal,” then it no longer needs to be acknowledged, explored, or processed.

But when minimization becomes the primary way emotions are handled within a family, it quietly teaches the next generation the same lesson:

Feelings are inconvenient.
Strong emotions should be reduced.
Expressing them creates problems.

Over time, this pattern becomes normalized. Each generation learns to suppress feelings in order to maintain harmony, even though the emotional cost continues to accumulate beneath the surface.

The Cost of Suppressing Feelings

When emotions are repeatedly minimized, several consequences tend to develop over time.

Resentment can quietly build beneath the surface.

Emotional reactions may become more intense when they finally emerge.

People can lose confidence in their own internal signals, questioning whether their feelings are valid or reasonable.

Relationships can become strained by misunderstandings about emotional expression.

The individual may even begin to believe something is wrong with them for feeling so strongly.

What they may not realize is that those feelings have been waiting a long time to be acknowledged.

A Different Approach

Healing begins with a simple but powerful shift: learning to acknowledge our emotions rather than minimizing them.

A helpful phrase often used in psychology is “name it to tame it.” When we pause long enough to identify what we are feeling, the intensity of the emotion often begins to settle. Naming the feeling engages the thinking parts of the brain, allowing us to observe the experience rather than being overwhelmed by it.

In many ways, this process is similar to a concept found in physics—the idea that observation itself can influence what is being observed. When we bring awareness to our internal experience, something begins to change.

The emotion is no longer pushed away or ignored. It is recognized.

Each feeling carries valuable information. Emotions help us understand what matters to us, what hurts us, and what we long for. They reveal our preferences, boundaries, and desires.

When we learn to acknowledge our emotions with curiosity rather than judgment, we begin to develop a different kind of relationship with ourselves.

We communicate an important message internally:

My experience matters.

This is where self-trust begins.

Instead of dismissing what we feel, we learn to acknowledge it, nurture the hurt within, and remind ourselves that we are capable of caring for our own emotional world.

Over time, this practice becomes the foundation for a healthier relationship with ourselves—one built on awareness, compassion, and trust.

And as our relationship with ourselves improves, our relationships with others often improve as well.

When we understand and regulate our own emotions, we are better able to communicate clearly, respond thoughtfully, and create relationships where feelings can be expressed rather than suppressed.

When emotions are acknowledged as they arise, they move through us rather than accumulating within us.


A Gentle Invitation

Many high-functioning adults learned early in life that minimizing their feelings helped maintain harmony in their families. Over time, this pattern can lead to confusion about one’s emotional responses and difficulty trusting one’s own internal experience.

Learning to recognize and process emotions in a healthy way is a skill that can be developed.

At Courageous Hearts, I work with adults who want to better understand their emotional world, develop greater self-awareness, and build relationships where feelings can be expressed and respected rather than dismissed.

Healing often begins with something simple yet powerful:

Taking your own emotional experience seriously.

If you are ready to explore these patterns and develop healthier ways of relating—to yourself and to others—I invite you to reach out.

When Success Feels Dangerous: How Childhood Jealousy Creates Codependency in Adulthood

Young boy swimmer

Not every child who excels is celebrated.

Some children learn very early that their competence disrupts the emotional balance of the family. Instead of applause, there is tension. Instead of pride, there is comparison. Instead of safety, there is something unspoken in the room.

Children are exquisitely sensitive to emotional shifts. They do not need words to understand when something has changed.

One client recently described surpassing his older brother’s swimming ability at the age of eight. What should have been a moment of excitement became something else. He could feel his brother’s disappointment. He sensed the subtle shift in energy. And without anyone explicitly telling him to do so, he adapted.

He stopped celebrating.
He began soothing.

That is how over-responsibility is born.

When Attachment Feels More Important Than Authenticity

Children are wired for attachment, not authenticity. If expressing their full self threatens connection, they will protect the connection every time.

This client learned something powerful and dangerous at the same time:

If my success makes someone uncomfortable, it is my job to manage their discomfort.

He began overlooking his own feelings and focusing on his brother’s. He became hyper-attuned. He became emotionally responsible for the room.

Later, he witnessed something similar between his father and sister. His father was helping with math homework. The sister had already understood the problem and kept writing. The father grew visibly frustrated as he struggled to grasp what his daughter had already mastered.

The message was subtle but profound: being surpassed creates shame.

When jealousy is not processed in a family system, it does not disappear. It gets displaced. Often onto the most capable child.

This dynamic is frequently discussed in recovery communities. Examples include Alcoholics Anonymous and Adult Children of Alcoholics. In these groups, over-functioning, rescuing, and people-pleasing are recognized as survival strategies. These strategies are developed in emotionally unpredictable environments.

Jealousy itself is not pathological. It is human. The problem arises when adults cannot regulate it. Children then step in to stabilize what the adults cannot.

From Survival Strategy to Adult Identity

What begins as childhood adaptation often becomes adult identity.

This client grew up to become a deeply soothing partner. He is attentive. He anticipates shifts in his wife’s mood. He steps in quickly to calm, to reassure, to manage.

He won love through his capacity to regulate others.

But here is the quiet truth: when we compulsively soothe others, we are abandoning ourselves.

And we also communicate something unintended — “I don’t trust you to regulate yourself.”

This is how codependency forms.

One partner over-functions.
The other under-functions.
Neither develops full emotional differentiation.

His self-worth becomes tied to her emotional state. If she is anxious, he feels inadequate. If she is unsettled, he feels responsible. If she is happy, he feels secure.

That is not intimacy.
That is emotional fusion.

The Hidden Cost of Being the Responsible One

Over-responsibility looks admirable from the outside. These individuals are dependable, thoughtful, generous. They often appear emotionally mature beyond their years.

But internally, there is exhaustion.

They struggle to:

  • Celebrate their own successes
  • Express anger or disappointment
  • Allow others to experience discomfort
  • Distinguish compassion from control

If my worth depends on your emotional stability, we are both trapped.

Real intimacy requires two adults who can tolerate their own emotional states without outsourcing regulation to the other.

The Work: Differentiation and Self-Regulation

Healing codependency is not about becoming less caring. It is about becoming more differentiated.

Differentiation is the ability to care deeply without taking responsibility for another adult’s emotional experience.

It requires:

  • Learning to sit with guilt when you do not rescue
  • Allowing others to struggle without intervening
  • Checking in with your own emotional state before tending to someone else’s
  • Asking, “What am I feeling right now?”

It also requires grieving.

Grieving the child who learned that shining was unsafe.
Grieving the moments of self-abandonment that once felt necessary.

Over time, the work becomes internal:

  • I can celebrate myself.
  • I can let others feel what they feel.
  • I can tolerate someone being disappointed in me.
  • I am not responsible for regulating another adult.

A New Way Forward

The six-year-old who once dimmed himself to protect others is now learning something new:

  • My competence does not harm others.
  • My emotions are not secondary.
  • Love does not require self-erasure.
  • My competence is of value.
  • My emotions are important.
  • Love allows me to be my authentic self.

When we stop earning connection through emotional labor, something surprising happens.

We do not become less loving.
We become whole.


If you recognize yourself in this pattern — the responsible one, the soothing one, the one who manages the emotional temperature of every room — you are not broken. You adapted intelligently.

But adaptation is not the same as freedom.

I offer online psychotherapy for high-functioning adults in California and Florida who are navigating codependency, over-responsibility, and relational burnout. Together, we work toward deeper self-awareness, emotional regulation, and relationships built on mutual strength rather than emotional fusion.

You do not have to keep abandoning yourself to maintain connection.

If you’re ready to explore a different way of relating, consider one rooted in wholeness rather than survival. I invite you to reach out.

Healing begins when you no longer have to carry everyone else’s emotional world alone.

The Four Taboos of Communication, Rule Two: Stop Demanding. Start Requesting. The Difference Changes Everything.

This essay is a revisit of an older post on the four taboos of communication. The original list was useful. This version develops the second rule — no demanding — with what years of clinical work have taught me about why demands fail and what works instead.

Years ago, I wrote a series on this blog about what I came to call the four taboos of communication — four patterns of speech that consistently produce bad outcomes in close relationships. Rule one was no name-calling. Rule two was no demanding. Rule three was no past-baiting. Rule four was no threatening. The series did well at the time and continues to be one of the most-read parts of this blog.

This essay is a revisit of rule two, no demanding, because that one in particular has continued to develop in my clinical work over the years. The original framing was correct — demands undermine connection — but the full picture of why this is true, and what to do instead, has become clearer to me with more clinical experience. This piece is that expanded picture.

What a demand actually is

Most of us did not learn the difference between a demand and a request growing up, because most of us grew up in households where the language was used interchangeably. A demand and a request can sound similar on the surface. Both involve one person asking another for something. The difference is what is implied if the other person says no.

A request says: I am asking you for this. If you say no, that is information about what you can offer, and we will figure out what to do from there.

A demand says: I am asking you for this, and there will be consequences if you do not give it to me. The consequences may not be named, but they are present in the tone, the body language, the felt sense of being pressured. The other person is not free to say no without paying a price.

This is the part most people miss. Demands are not always loud. They are not always angry. They can be delivered in the most reasonable voice. What makes them demands is not the volume but the implied threat of relational consequence if the other person does not comply.

Why demands fail

In close relationships, demands consistently produce the opposite of what the demanding person wants. This is not a personality issue or a communication preference. It is the way nervous systems respond to felt pressure.

When the other person experiences your demand — whether or not you intended it as one — their nervous system goes into some form of protective response. Fight. Flight. Freeze. Fawn. None of these states is conducive to genuine cooperation. Even if the other person complies with the demand, the compliance is shaped by protection rather than by genuine willingness. They give you what you asked for and they feel less safe with you afterward.

This is why so many couples find themselves in a pattern where one person feels they have to demand things to get them done, and the other person feels increasingly resistant to doing the things even when they would have been willing to do them without the demand. The demand itself produces the resistance. Removing the demand often produces the cooperation that the demand was trying to force.

The deeper damage is to the relationship itself. Demands accumulate. Each one teaches the other person that being in relationship with you involves periodic pressure to comply, that their no will be received as a problem rather than as information. Over time, this changes what kind of relationship is possible. The person on the receiving end of demands becomes either reactive (a demander themselves) or quietly absent (going through the motions while their inner life withdraws to where it cannot be reached). Neither is what the demanding person was hoping for.

Why we demand

Understanding why we demand is essential to changing the pattern. People do not demand because they are bad communicators. They demand because the demand is doing something for them — usually managing an underlying anxiety or unmet need that feels too vulnerable to name directly.

The husband who demands that the dishes be done a certain way is often, underneath the demand, expressing an anxiety about household order that he learned in a childhood where chaos felt unsafe. The wife who demands that her partner respond to her texts within a specific time frame is often, underneath the demand, expressing an attachment anxiety about being forgotten or unimportant. The parent who demands that the adult child call more often is often, underneath the demand, expressing a fear of being left behind as the child builds their own life.

None of these underlying needs is wrong. All of them deserve attention. But they cannot be met through demands, because demands hide what is actually going on. The husband saying you never do the dishes right is not actually communicating his anxiety about order. He is delivering a command that the other person experiences as pressure. The conversation about what is actually underneath never happens, and the pattern repeats.

What to do instead

The alternative to demanding is requesting — and requesting well is more skillful than it sounds. Several elements distinguish a real request from a softened demand.

First, name what you want clearly and concisely. Vague requests invite vague responses. Be specific about what you are asking for.

Second, name why it matters to you. Not as justification or as pressure, but as honest information. The vulnerability of saying I am asking for this because it matters to me invites the other person into your inner world rather than positioning them as someone to be managed.

Third, make space for the other person’s no. This is the heart of it. A real request includes genuine willingness to hear no. If you cannot tolerate the no, you are making a demand, not a request, no matter how polite the words sound.

Fourth, regulate yourself before you ask. Many requests come out as demands because the asker is activated when they ask. The same words delivered from a regulated state and from an activated state land completely differently. Take three slow breaths before you start. Notice your own tension. The body of the asker shapes what the asker is actually asking for, regardless of what the words appear to say.

Fifth, follow up with curiosity rather than judgment. If the other person says no, ask why. Not as challenge but as genuine interest in their experience. Their no contains information about them, about the situation, about what might be possible. Receiving the no with curiosity often opens a different conversation than the original request anticipated, and that conversation is frequently where real solutions emerge.

A concrete example

Imagine you have been doing more of the household labor than feels fair. You want your partner to take on more. There is a demand version of this conversation and a request version.

Demand version. *You never help around the house. I do everything. You need to start doing more.*

This is delivered in a tone of frustration. It positions the other person as a failure. It includes the implied threat that if they do not start doing more, the frustration will continue or escalate. The other person hears the demand, their nervous system activates, and they either defend themselves, withdraw, or comply resentfully. None of these outcomes produces a real shift.

Request version. *I have been feeling overwhelmed by how much household labor I am doing. I would like us to look together at what each of us is currently doing and see if there is a way to redistribute it that feels more sustainable for me. Are you willing to have that conversation?*

This is delivered in a regulated tone. It names what is happening for you without blame. It invites the other person into collaboration rather than positioning them as someone to be corrected. It explicitly asks whether they are willing to engage, which honors their autonomy. The other person can say yes, and a real conversation begins. They can say not right now, which gives you information about their state. They can say no, which gives you information about something deeper in the relationship that needs attention.

Every one of these outcomes is more useful than the resentful compliance the demand version would have produced.

The deeper invitation

Learning to make real requests instead of demands is one of the most consequential skills in any close relationship. It is also, for many of us, genuinely hard, because the patterns we learned in childhood often included demands disguised as expectations, and we may not have grown up seeing what a real request looks like.

The work is gradual. Notice when you are about to demand. Pause. Ask yourself what is actually underneath. Make the request from the underneath rather than from the surface. Be willing to hear no.

Over time, your closest relationships will change. The people in your life will trust you more, because they will learn that their no is genuinely received rather than punished. They will offer more freely, because they are not constantly defending against pressure. The cooperation you wanted will arrive — not because you forced it, but because you stopped making it the thing that had to be forced.

This is rule two. Stop demanding. Start requesting. The difference, in close relationships, is not subtle. It is everything.

For the clinical perspective on why demands trigger nervous system responses and what real requests do differently, see the companion piece at thecourageousself.com.

April Wright, MA, LMFT is a Licensed Marriage and Family Therapist in California and Florida. She blogs about attachment, healing, and the courageous arts of becoming oneself at courageous-arts.com and sees clients at thecourageousself.com.

 

The Connection Between Emotions and Physical Health

The Mind

Our mind is constantly working. It has three basic functions of thinking, feeling, and desiring. We then respond consciously or unconsciously depending on how aware we are of our thoughts, feelings, and desires.

Many patients share stories claiming they don’t think. When I inquiry deeper, they discover they do think but deliberately distract themselves from paying attention.

The pain of their thoughts is too great to face. They rationalize, “if I’m not aware of my thoughts; they don’t occur.” It’s the old adage, “if I don’t see it, it doesn’t exist.”

Suppressed Emotions

It is not uncommon for a child to be conditioned to suppress their emotions. Cultural views or mishandling of a child’s natural reaction to pain, hurt, or not getting what they desire teaches the child not to show feelings.

Suppressing our emotions doesn’t make them go away. In fact, it makes it more difficult to manage imminent life distresses. Research shows when we deny our thoughts, feelings, and desires they become stronger.

The Body

Our emotions don’t go away, they build-up in the body. Neglected emotions cause inflammation in the body, which then increases stress on the body. Risk for hypertension, diabetes, heart disease, depression, and anxiety rises.

Unreleased emotions causes the immune system to weaken and then bones begin to fracture easily, joints become stiff, and illnesses become more frequent.

Relationships

The effect of suppressing emotions continues to not only have detrimental effects on our mind, body, and overall health but also on our relationships.

Relationships start to deteriorate due to unfamiliarity of social cues and gestures propelled. Frequent misunderstandings cause resentment, anger, hurt, and sadness. As communication skills decline, consequently relationships begin to fail.

The Brain and Trauma

During a traumatic event such as an assault, a robbery, or a car accident our thinking part of the brain naturally shuts down to protect us. Our brain is then able to fully focus its attention on surviving. Our body responds immediately ready to fight, flight, or freeze.

The similar way our pain receptors block us from feeling intense pain at the time of physical harm, the mind functions to suppress intense, negative emotions during times of crisis to defend us.

The brains’ response to trauma protects us. However, when we consciously disconnect from our emotions during normal life’s tribulations such as a fight with our spouse, death of a family member, anxiety from work, or from the loss of a job; our mind, body, and relationships suffers.

Common signs of stored emotional pain:

  • You overly distract yourself to maintain self-control.
  • You keep yourself extremely busy and moving to avoid negative thoughts.
  • You avoid talking about the incident because you don’t want to feel undesirable emotions.
  • You avoid people, places, or objects that remind you of the incident or that bring up adverse emotions.
  • You numb emotional or physical pain with alcohol or drugs.

It takes deep reflection, awareness, and efforts to uncover denied emotions let alone release them. Many of us, have a hard time even putting words to the sensations felt.

Nevertheless, it is important to find time to express your emotions in a healthy way.

Modified from Deepak Chopra teachings, here is a beneficial method to release emotions.

  1. Think of a specific event and write what happened. In your narrative, explain how you felt using feeling words such as:
  • Anger
  • Resentment
  • Guilt
  • Shame
  • Blame
  • Hostility
  • Rage
  • Sadness
  • Grief
  • Sorrow
  • Envy
  • Jealousy
  • Anxiety
  • Fear
  • Worry
  • Apprehension

As you are experiencing these emotions, feel them in your body. It may be a physical sensation of stiffness, discomfort, tightness, or pain in the stomach or around the heart. A headache or a tightening of the throat is also common.

  1. Next write what other people did and how you reacted afterward.
  2. Write another narrative but this time from the point of view of the person who hurt you. Pretend that you are that person. Write down what they are feeling, why they acted as they did, and how they responded afterward.
  3. Finally write a narrative using the same event but from the perspective of a reporter. In the third person, write how an objective observer would tell readers about the incident. Be as objective and even-handedly as you can.
  4. Share your experience. Tell your experience to a good friend, loving family member or a therapist. Keep from relaying your three stories to the person who hurt you. They will most likely not understand or be supportive. It is crucial to tell your tale to someone sympathetic and has your best interests at heart.
  5. Create a ritual to set free your three stories. Burn them, flush them down the toilet, make paper airplanes and release them to the wind. As you release your stories, visualize all your pain; sorrow, and frustration leave your body.
  6. Take yourself on a date. Go out to dinner, get a massage, buy yourself something nice. Choose an activity to cherish the work you did and the emotional release.

f

5 Dating Tips for the Ladies But Applicable for All

Online Dating

Dating is exciting! Dating is frustrating! Dating gets us out of our comfort zone. It is thrilling to meet new people and experience novel restaurants, sights, and ideas. It is discouraging at times because there are more duds then studs. With practice and these tips in mind, your dating life may be short-lived. Commitment can be right around the corner.

Dating Tip 1: Ladies, don’t look for guys to ask what you want? Men just don’t do that. Women speak up. Learn assertive communication skills. Say want you want and mean what you say. Don’t wait until your patience runs thin and then you explode. Make a stance and say, “Hey, I’m feeling cooped-up and need some fresh air; let’s go for a hike, couples massage or walk on some hip street.” Whatever you want, say it loud and clear. It ain’t gonna happen unless you speak up!

Dating Tip 2: Does he continually talk without even taking a breath for air? Do you feel like you are in a monologue? You are right. He is in it for himself. You don’t matter. You probably feel invisible, and rightly so. There is no room for connection with someone who is talking on and on about themselves, their friends or whatever else you are NOT involved in. He is not emotionally available. GET OUT. You will lose all your esteem and trust. There is no room for you when you are dealing with someone so consumed with themselves.

Dating Tip 3: Test. Test your assertive skills. If he is talking in a monologue; say something. Try, “I think it’s great you are so excited about the opportunities you’ve had to see so many things, but I’m feeling a little neglected and not part of the conversation. It makes it hard to connect when you are talking so fast. There’s no room for me to interject. Do you think you could slow down and involve me in the conversation?” Test to see how he responds. Does he listen and acknowledge he went off on a tangent? If NOT, time to go!

Dating Tip 4: Does he continually talk about ex-girlfriends and what they did wrong? That’s a sign he is living in the past, not able to let go, and not take responsibility for his part in the relationship. A relationship involves two people and each person always plays a role. There is never just one person to blame. If you are being blamed or doing the blaming something is wrong. Stop the blaming and take personal responsibility. If you are taking the time to reflect, acknowledge your faults – even apologize, and if he’s not, get out—FAST!

Dating Tip 5: Does he listen and really hear you? How do you know? If you reveal something about yourself and the subject is quickly reverting back to him; HE’S NOT LISTENING! If you express your thoughts, and he bashed them, discourages you then HE IS ABUSIVE. If you say something about yourself and it is used against you later; HE IS NOT TRUSTWORTHY.

Dating is the perfect opportunity to learn about yourself, your triggers, and how you handle them. There is plenty of times to practice and improve skills that are challenging. Get out there and keep trying. The more you date, the greater the chance you will find the love of your life.

Another Death in the Family

candleNovember 4, 2013

“Death ends a life…but it does not end a relationship, which struggles on in the survivors mind…toward some final resolution, which it never finds.” — Robert Anderson

My aunt passed away today.  The event hit my body once again like a freight train.  My body feels beaten, bruised, and wounded with pain from the loss.

I am sad for her departure but believe she is in peace.  When we last spoke, she had such a positive attitude, spirit, and serenity in believing that she would be met with her relatives, friends, and loved ones in the next place.  It brought her comfort in the transition.  Knowing this helps ease my grief as well.  I am able to rest assure she is okay wherever she may be.  I believe this with my heart even though my head has no idea.  Thus I rather believe and stay true to my heart.

My aunt’s death rekindled old memories.  We shared many ups and downs through the ages.  I disagreed with a lot of her behavior and stayed my distance for long bouts of time.  With her passing, I immediately accepted all of who she is and was.   It was hard while she was living but somehow after she is gone, it doesn’t matter so much.  I love her for her.  Why does it take death to finally have peace and acceptance?  Does it really have too?

She did the best she could.  She lived a fruitful life especially the last six years.  She moved to Missouri to be closer to family.  She found support, love, and a sense of belonging in a small community.  She made friends and was loved by many.  She helped me realize that is the meaning of life.  It’s our relationships that matter the most.  Cherish each and every one, treat others with love and kindness, and don’t give up even when times are tough.

Of course, there are relationships where there are struggles, disagreements, and challenges.  It’s finding a safe balance to still connect in whatever capacity possible.  Life is too short for emotional cut-off, not to talk to family or friends due to disagreements.  No one is perfect.  Everyone is trying the best they can in whatever ability they have.  Just some of us have more skill than others.  At the end of the day, is the heartache and distance worth going through.  Is it necessary to hold onto old grudges?  The longer we hold tight to negativity, the longer the pain and misery continues.

The passing of my aunt also renewed broken relationships.  The event presented the opportunity for my mom and me to talk again.  We were able to acknowledge our past wrong doings and not take time for granted.  My aunt’s departure helped us understand that time is precious.  Each day counts.  Time matters.  Our relationships count the most.

Death is such a funny phenomenon.  Regardless of when it happens, it’s always a shock.  It seems to stir up so many emotions, reflections, and assessments.  It can resurface the loss of past loved ones, rekindle old relationships, and remind us once again of our mortality.  It’s a memento to be grateful for the gifts of life and to appreciate those close to us.

 

Another Death in the Family

candleNovember 4, 2013

“Death ends a life…but it does not end a relationship, which struggles on in the survivors mind…toward some final resolution, which it never finds.” — Robert Anderson

My aunt passed away today.  The event hit my body once again like a freight train.  My body feels beaten, bruised, and wounded with pain from the loss.

I am sad for her departure but believe she is in peace.  When we last spoke, she had such a positive attitude, spirit, and serenity in believing that she would be met with her relatives, friends, and loved ones in the next place.  It brought her comfort in the transition.  Knowing this helps ease my grief as well.  I am able to rest assure she is okay wherever she may be.  I believe this with my heart even though my head has no idea.  Thus I rather believe and stay true to my heart.

My aunt’s death rekindled old memories.  We shared many ups and downs through the ages.  I disagreed with a lot of her behavior and stayed my distance for long bouts of time.  With her passing, I immediately accepted all of who she is and was.   It was hard while she was living but somehow after she is gone, it doesn’t matter so much.  I love her for her.  Why does it take death to finally have peace and acceptance?  Does it really have too?

She did the best she could.  She lived a fruitful life especially the last six years.  She moved to Missouri to be closer to family.  She found support, love, and a sense of belonging in a small community.  She made friends and was loved by many.  She helped me realize that is the meaning of life.  It’s our relationships that matter the most.  Cherish each and every one, treat others with love and kindness, and don’t give up even when times are tough.

Of course, there are relationships where there are struggles, disagreements, and challenges.  It’s finding a safe balance to still connect in whatever capacity possible.  Life is too short for emotional cut-off, not to talk to family or friends due to disagreements.  No one is perfect.  Everyone is trying the best they can in whatever ability they have.  Just some of us have more skill than others.  At the end of the day, is the heartache and distance worth going through.  Is it necessary to hold onto old grudges?  The longer we hold tight to negativity, the longer the pain and misery continues.

The passing of my aunt also renewed broken relationships.  The event presented the opportunity for my mom and me to talk again.  We were able to acknowledge our past wrong doings and not take time for granted.  My aunt’s departure helped us understand that time is precious.  Each day counts.  Time matters.  Our relationships count the most.

Death is such a funny phenomenon.  Regardless of when it happens, it’s always a shock.  It seems to stir up so many emotions, reflections, and assessments.  It can resurface the loss of past loved ones, rekindle old relationships, and remind us once again of our mortality.  It’s a memento to be grateful for the gifts of life and to appreciate those close to us.

 

Forgiveness – A Crucial Component of Step 9 in the 12 Steps of Alcoholics Anonymous

Forgiveness is a gift you give yourself.Forgiveness is a process and a choice.  It is the opportunity to untie the bindings of your pain from the past.   As part of the course of action, forgiveness involves confronting your fears and compassion to allow yourself time to physically and emotionally heal.  Exposing yourself to persons, surroundings, or objects that you fear offers the opening to have a corrective experience.  You are able to reorganize your memories and repair those recollections.

For example, as a child you may have experienced being attacked by a Rottweiler.  You were not physically hurt but the immediate threat startled you.  As a result you froze.  This is a natural fear response.   The terror was never discussed by your family or friends.  Thus the thoughts and emotions were not processed and disorganized memories formed.  Avoiding the discussion of the incident caused your fears to worsen.  Unprocessed feelings transform to generalized fears and all or nothing thinking.  Consequently you became fearful of all dogs and avoidant of the neighborhood where the attack occurred.

By exposing yourself to another Rottweiler that doesn’t attack gives the opportunity for a remedial and healing experience.  Difficult memories are allowed to surface.  The thoughts and emotions that were once suppressed can now be processed.   Processing gives way to reorganizing your memories.  You learn that not all Rottweilers show aggression.  You broaden your capacity for more knowledge and understanding.  All Rottweilers don’t attack.  There are some aggressive dogs and others that are very loving.  Black and white thinking transforms to accepting that Rottweillers and all animals have trustworthy and safe parts and some that are not.  For example, a cat that was once abused as a kitten associates touch as a threat.  Thus when you pet him, he bites.  As long as you don’t pet the cat, he is kind and playful.  Animals and experiences are complex and make up many parts not just good or bad.

The same is true for people.  Most parents, loved ones, and friends do not intentionally try to hurt you.  The hurtful behavior that was endeared was taught and passed down from their parents.  As a child, you have no choice but to tolerate the emotional, physical, or sexual abuse.  You are completely dependent upon your caretakers for safety and protection in whatever capacity they can.  Thus you learn to protect yourself, suppress your emotions, and tolerate abuse.  The abuse continues until you learn that as an adult you have a choice on what to tolerate.  You can now tune into your emotions and express them in a healthy manner.  As an adult you can courageously choose and confront those in your cycle of abuse.  You can choose to forgive.

The persons on your list from Step four are participants of the cycle of abuse.   By respectfully approaching those on your list, you may be able to have an open discussion, grasp a better understanding from their perspective, explain yours, and possibly heal old wounds.  All participants must be willing to have an open mind and to listen and speak compassionately from the heart.  It is possible to heal hurt with positive, respectful dialogue.  As you both come to a new understanding, unresolved emotions are replaced with restored, transformative memories to a place of forgiveness and healing.

The Secret of Love (Spoiler Alert)

journey by Deepak Chopra, MD

The Internet has taken up the slack from print media by offering tips on love and relationships, which pop up on home pages, in tweets and in news teasers many times a day. If the secret to lasting romance could be shared like a recipe for cinnamon buns, our problems would be over. But love isn’t a fact, formula, or definable in words.

Love is a process, perhaps the most mysterious one in human psychology. No one knows what creates love as a powerful bond that is so full of meaning. If romance was only a heady brew of hormones, genetic inheritance and sex drive, all we’d need is better data to explain it. But love is transporting. It carries us beyond our everyday selves and makes reality shine with an inner light. The reverse can also happen. We crash to earth when the wear and tear of relationships makes love fade.

The process of love is kept alive by evolving and not getting stuck. Infatuation is an early stage of the process. You bond with another person as if by alchemy, but in time the ego returns with the claims of “I, me, and mine.” At that point love must change. Two people must negotiate how much to share, how much to surrender and how much to stand their ground. It would be tragic if romance faded into everyday familiarity, but it doesn’t have to.

Beyond the stage of two egos negotiating for their own interests, there is deepening love. It doesn’t try to turn the present into the past. A married couple of twenty years isn’t still infatuated with one other. So what keeps the process alive? For me, the answer was revealed by reading a startling sentence from the Upanishads, which are like a textbook of spiritual understanding. The sentence says, “You do not love a spouse for the sake of the spouse but for the sake of the self.”

At first glance this seems like a horrible sentiment: We all love on a personal basis and we expect to be loved the same way, for ourselves. But if “self” means your everyday personality, there is much that isn’t very lovable about each of us and as a marriage or relationship unfolds, there’s a guarantee that our partners will see those unlovable things more clearly. Even a knight in shining armor might want to save more than one damsel, and even saint must use deodorant once in a while.

In the world’s wisdom tradition, “love” and “self” are both universal. They exist beyond the individual personality. The secret of love is to expand beyond the personal. When people say that they want unconditional love, they often imply that they want to be loved despite their shortcomings, issues and quirks. But that’s nearly impossible if love remains at the personal level. At a certain point, if you begin to see love itself as your goal, universal love is more powerful and secure than personal love.

The poet Rabindranath Tagore described the spiritual side of love in a single expression” “Love is the only reality and it is not a mere sentiment. It is the ultimate truth that lies at the heart of creation.” The gift of human awareness is that we can locate the source of creation in ourselves. By going deeper into the self, asking “Who am I?” without settling for a superficial answer, the ego-personality fades. A sense of the true self begins to dawn, and it is this self that exists in contact with love as the only reality.

The journey becomes more fascinating if someone else travels with you. Life isn’t about abstractions; it’s about experience. If you have a beloved who stands for the feeling of love, bonding, and affection, your journey has a focus that can’t be supplied merely by thinking. The experiences that love bring include surrender, devotion, selflessness, giving, gratitude, appreciation, kindness and bliss. So if the phrase “universal love” seems daunting or improbable to you, break it down into these smaller experiences. Pursue them, and you will be traveling in the direction of your source, where the true self and true love merge.

That’s where my spoiler alert comes in. Announcing the secret of love cuts short the actual experience. It doesn’t always help to know what’s coming, because you might fall into exaggerated expectations and fall short. It’s better and more realistic to become aware that love is now your personal project. Show kindness and gratitude. Speak about what your beloved means to you. Every step on this journey works on behalf of the two of you but also on behalf of the self that unites you at the deepest level.