Or Maybe We're On The Wrong Path

Do you feel stressed?
...overweight?
...depressed?
...unfulfilled?
...unattractive?
...under-appreciated?
...confused?
...lost?

That's GREAT! We have just what you NEED?
How about a relaxing meditation vacation?
Or this new fitness routine at this new gym?
Or a new anti-anxiety medication?
Or a stimulating career certification course?
Or a sale at THE fashion store?
Or this new method that well teach YOU how to win them over?
Or this new thing... don't worry what it is, but we promise you can't live without it!

Or... Or... Well, come on... just tell us your symptoms, and we will find some way to numb them so you can get back to "enjoying" life just the way we want you to.

It seems that no matter your distress, someone has the answer for you. And they are almost always selling that answer. But does the answer provide an effective solution, or does it just help us carry our burdens longer by distracting us from the root of the problem?

I've been thinking about this for a while. Every year we have more and more fitness centers opening, and yet the obesity rate is rising. More people are depressed even though anti-depression use has skyrocketed. Even industry based mindfulness training meant to treat stress is perhaps a misguided effort.

Recently one of my new friends posted this question online:
"Dear Feelings, WHERE'S THE "OFF" BUTTON TO THESE THINGS."

Nearly half of the comments suggested some sort of distraction, from sports to coffee. Concerned not only for my friend's longterm well being, but also wanting to give a nugget of advice to others watching her status, I gave this answer:
"The off button is there... but it's dangerous to use... instead, turn up the volume, allow yourself to feel and know you are loved and everything is okay.  hugs."

This comes from my new favorite book, Daring Greatly. The author, Brene Brown, discusses the dangers of numbing ourselves and gives alternative solutions. Basically, the problem is when you are in pain, or sad, or angry you can't just numb those injured emotions. If you numb one, you numb them all. Numbing sadness numbs joy as well.

I wanted my friend to know that her emotions are valid. Though they may hurt, fighting them or hiding them will only injure or mask her beauty from our world. I also wanted her to know that she doesn't have to face that struggle alone, that she has many people who love her and that we are always there for her.

And I guess I am writing this because I want you to know that you too are not alone. Though I am afraid some of you may feel like you are. I am here for you, just as you are here for me. I sincerely believe that our connections bring us strength. They can give us the strength to go out and be ourselves.

I was a teacher at a school that forced children to sit still and be quiet for 10 hours a day as we drilled the students on skills that would raise their test scores. I felt stifled, then saddened, then crushed. I didn't have the courage to quit my job and fortunately at the end of the year they let me go because, "This place isn't the right fit for you."

While I worked there I was depressed and suffered from massive anxiety attacks that occurred with frightening frequency. Once I mourned the loss of my job I felt peace. I didn't need medication or new training ... I was pushing my non-square self into that school's square shaped ideology and I'm happy that I refused to conform for as long as I did.

I think if things feel wrong, they probably are. That chances are, it's not you... but the place you've put yourself that is causing you strife. This belief of mine exposes my faith in humanity, and I am happy to share that with you.

So, next time you feel wrong... maybe you just need a different path. :)

Why I Write: Walking the Path to Me

"It's okay, I'll be strong for you." Said my wonderful girlfriend to me earlier this week (and many times throughout our relationship) as I sat, crying in a ball on the kitchen floor earlier this week. Those who know me will wonder, "Jeez... what happened... what did I miss?" The answer is simple... Nothing.

Nothing happened. Nothing terrible. No one died. No one was horrible to me. No one left me. I still have my job, my house, my family, my friends, all my cool things... I still have everything... Except my sense of self.

I've been in love with David Sedaris since I discovered his book, Holidays on Ice over ten years ago. I loved how he told stories about life that were honest, funny and complex. From there I became a fan of This American Life... and listening to people tell their stories and witnessing as the narrators come to grips with their experiences had a powerful effect on me. Initially, it made me jealous. I wanted to be that honest. I wanted to stop hiding. I wanted to be me and just be okay with that. I wanted to like me... but I didn't even know who I was.

I like to write. I love reading the journals I wrote as a teenager. It gives me the chance to take a step back and appreciate the journey.

Writing a blog offers the same benefits as journaling with the added perk of practicing being me in front of an audience.

I dance in my living room, sing loud when I'm alone, and have lively, opinionated conversations with myself when I'm the only one in my truck. But, put me in a room with other people and I can't stop wondering what you all think of every little thing I do... How vain... I know. I know you are not even remotely interested in 99.9% of what I do, but to convince myself otherwise feels like a lie.

My therapist calls this characteristic of mine social anxiety disorder. I hate that phrase. I hate the term disorder. It makes me feel broken... And yet, I need a way to except my damaged self image. The Japanese tradition of kintsugi is the art of fixing a broken pot by using gold to hold the pieces together so the pot becomes more beautiful and lets people embrace it's traumatic history. This speaks to me. The gold that holds me together are the wonderful people in my life... and sometimes, I even make my own gold.

So, I'm starting to think maybe I just won't call it a disorder... Perhaps I'm just still learning how to use my fingers and toes with confidence. We all have different paths, and some are longer and twistier than others (that's what she said!;)

Lately I've been reading this awesome book called Daring Greatly: How the Courage to Be Vulnerable Transforms the Way we Live, Love, Parent and Lead. I've only read a third of the book and have already broken down crying at least three times. This book is bringing me face to face with things that I brush under the rug and stow away in the dark corners of my psyche. I just need to share some of the quotes.

"It's crazy how much energy we spend trying to avoid these hard topics when they're really the only ones that can set us free."

Wow... that one hit me hard... I can't even begin to tell you how much my mental health and life in general improved when I finally told my current girlfriend (a.k.a. fiancée) that I like her. And with every other person we told, life became easier.

"We can't let ourselves be seen if we are terrified by what people may think."

My problem in a nutshell. Yet rather than come to terms with that, and learn to move past it... I just tell myself that I'm broken... that there is something wrong with me. I beat myself up... I become ashamed of myself.

"Yes, shame is tough to talk about. But the conversation isn't nearly as dangerous as what we're creating with our silence! We all experience shame. We're all afraid to talk about it. And, the less we talk about it, the more we have it."

And THIS is why I feel I must write this blog. Talking about my feelings and being vulnerable enough to connect with you is hard... I need to practice. I need to spend a couple of days a week, crafting a thoughtful entry, and then practice the courage to push the publish button.

Of course, I could just stand up and say, "This is who I am! If you don't like it, that's your problem!" Which kinda defined my adolescence... Talk about psychological projection! I didn't like me. And I tried to blame my self hate on everyone around me. I struggled struggle with anger... you should see my teenage current journals!

Throughout my life bits of myself have cracked... but I'm putting the pieces together and filling the cracks with kindness and acceptance. Now I practice saying, "I love the person I am, and have always been. My self worth does not wait for anyone's approval."

 

If I Hit Your Child, Would He Respect Me Too?

This post has been living in my head for a while. It's really hard to write... but I also think it is very important to write it.

I was spanked when I was a child.

My parents never left physical marks. They never hit me in anger. And there was always a great deal of warning before I was hit.

Some parents beat their children. My parents did not, and would have never beat me or my sister.

I guess that makes us lucky...

...

Recently, I saw a meme on the Internet that reads:

This has caused me to think a lot about why I respect people. Was it due to the fact that my parents hit me? Was it something else? Was it some combination of the two?

Let me reflect on how I felt when I was spanked. My mother would give many warnings before we were spanked... to the extent that I never really knew when the threat was real. So I didn't really take her seriously until she told me to go get the paddle. My mom was smart. She knew that by the time she had decided to spank us she would be angry! In the time it took me to cry my way to where the paddle was kept and back she would be calm enough to hit me without hurting me too much.

When she warned me, I felt silly... it was just part of the game.

When she asked me to get the paddle, I felt afraid... The game was over.

When she hit me, I felt sad and hurt... I had lost.

When it was over, I felt ashamed... Everything was my fault.

I would tell myself, "It wasn't that bad... I can take it... I'm tough." The woman I love most in the world just hit me... for my own good... and I was trying to convince myself I was strong enough to take it.

Let me be clear. I never once thought, "Well, I guess I won't do that anymore." Which would be obvious to if you knew how many parent-teacher conferences my parents had to attend due to my unruly behavior. I never once considered whether or not I should do something based on if I thought I would be spanked. I always thought I could get away with it.

When I was seven my grandmother died and right around that time I started walking to school. Eventually, I was walking unsupervised with my sister and a friend... and we used to swear like sailors! At one point it occurred to me that my grandmother was watching me from above, and how disappointed she was to hear what I was saying... I rarely cursed again until after college.

I don't think my grandmother ever spanked me... But I know I didn't want to disappoint her.

Currently, I care for children between the ages of zero and five in my home. I provide them with a caring, safe, structured home away from home while their parents work. Even if New York state would allow it, I am ethically opposed to striking children for any reason. And yet, I don't spend ten hours of my day coping with uncontrollable children. We play, learn, eat, sleep and clean up in relative peace.

However, It was not always this way.

When I started my daycare business nearly a year ago I had no idea what I was doing. There were tantrums and defiance... even throwing and hitting! And I just didn't know what to do. I tried so many different things. But I was starting to think I had made a huge mistake in my career choice.

So, I did what I do. I went to the library.

Two books stick out in my memory. Have a New Kid by Friday and Parent Effectiveness Training.

In my opinion, a self-help book is intended to change the reader... at least that is what the name implies. And of course, the only person I have any control over changing is myself.  Just by looking at the titles I should have known one would help, while the other would be a disaster.

Have a New Kid by Friday wants you to change your children. It is a book on authoritative parenting. They even suggest spanking... You would think that would have finally convinced me to put the book down... But I was desperate. I needed to make this new job work. So I tried all the non-spanking suggestions. What a disaster! I was upset. The kids I was watching were upset... even a friend who I suggested this book to was upset because it backfired with her child as well.

On my Christmas vacation I found Parent Effectiveness Training. I was reading the book during a week without children, and I didn't believe anything they suggested would work. To my surprise, EVERY SINGLE SUGGESTION HELPED! PET teaches parents how to model good communication so that their children can express themselves effectively. And, lo and behold, when people can express themselves to someone who's main goal is to understand them, conflicts float away.

I'm not saying everything is perfect. I still have rough moments and terrible days. But the overall change is remarkable.

I've suggested this book to so many people. In fact, I want the author to write a new book called, People Effectiveness Training that focuses on teaching people how to interact successfully with everyone in their life. I think we all need a little of that.... At least I know I do :)

The thing I remember helping me the most, when I was a kid, was the numerous times my dad sat up with me at night, talking for HOURS about something that was distressing me. He was there to answer my questions, share his experiences and let me know that my feelings are valid. Those talks made me who I am today, those talks taught me the importance of respecting another person... Because those talks showed me that my dad respected me.

One more point. A point of shame as a matter of fact. Sometimes... and it isn't easy to admit this... sometimes, I want to hit a child. This week I was walking into a store as a mother was walking out with a screaming child. The child was being rude and disrespectful and my very first thought was, "That child needs a spanking!" Immediately I felt horrible. I remember how much I hated being hit... and yet, my gut reaction is still sometimes to inflict physical pain. This scares me because I know my parents did not hit me as often as I'm sure they thought they should... and even that taught me, in some small way, that violence is a solution.

So, in conclusion, I believe there is no need to hit a child. I can change the environment, I can strengthen my communication skills, I can get stress relief training, I can reach out for help, I can smile more.

I believe there is no reason to hit a child... unless if you want to.

P.S.

I'd love to see comments, so I know what you are thinking as you read this. :)