Hindsight Is 50/50

The saying is hindsight is 20/20, meaning you can look back down the history of your path and see the choices you made with the clarity of today. It becomes temptingly easy to judge your previous self with the knowledge you have today, picking apart each turn you took because you can see the outcomes waiting for you just around the corner.

“If I would’ve known.”

“I should’ve done better.”

“It could’ve been different.”

These thoughts can haunt us and ultimately erode the trust we have in ourselves to make sound and wise decisions.

So that’s the thing…how can we know for certain we would do anything different even with the eagle eye of hindsight available to us? We can hope that we would practice as Maya Angelou taught us, to do better when we know better. However, if mistakes are our best teachers, then what fun is making the “right” choice every time?

I know I’ve spent far too much of my life worrying about doing it the right way. I practiced caution and made careful choices so I could keep my side of the street clean and with the quiet hope that if I did what I was supposed to do, bad things wouldn’t happen. A superstitious way to live I guess, but it did provide me with comfort in very uncertain times in my life. However, this comforting coping strategy didn’t allow for me to question who determined the “right way” or the possibility of my “right way” not being the only “right way”.

While yes, there are many choices I made along the way that I can now look back with a shaking head in my hands and acknowledge my poor judgement in the moment. Also, many of those poor choices led to lessons I needed to make a better (not right) choice at a later crossroad.

I am a former smoker. I smoked for 14 years and only quit because I wanted to have children. I loved smoking even though I knew how terrible it was for me. When I quit, it was one of the most difficult changes I ever made. It was only then I realized how dumb it was for me to pick up that first cigarette just because everyone else was doing it. Today, I would give that girl a hug and whisper in her ear, “you are enough. Don’t try to make yourself small to fit in. This is gonna be a bitch to quit one day.”

14 years later that choice caused me so much grief as I tried to quit. It took multiple attempts to finally put down my Marlboro Lights for good. Each time I tried, I would get anxiety from the thought I would never have another cigarette. I would never smell the smoke of a freshly lit cigarette or feel the relief from the first exhale. So I would pick up where I left off the day before and light another one. It was only until I adopted a lesson I heard in Al-anon that I was able to finally put down the lung darts and let them go.

Al-anon has a saying “just for today.” It releases me from worrying about never smoking again, because it only requires me to stay in this day. Each morning, I would begin the day with the promise that I would not smoke just for today. I gave myself permission to think that I could possibly smoke tomorrow or even next week if I wanted to, but just for today I would not. After I put together a few independent days, I looked around and realized I was capable of finding relief elsewhere and I no longer required that crutch.

I still tell my daughters that lighting up that first cigarette was the dumbest decision, because it was the most difficult choice to put back down. I am not ashamed of that choice because that choice taught me a lesson I use all the time. Just for today. While I already knew that mantra, I didn’t understand how to use it and I had never let it give me the permission I needed to not be perfect and to give myself some grace.

Al-anon says, “Just for today I will try to live through this day only, and not tackle all my problems at once. I can do something for 12 hours that would appall me if I felt that I had to keep it up for a lifetime.”

There are so many moments in my life that I can examine through the lens of today’s wisdom and question my why or wonder what could’ve been if I would’ve gone left instead of right. However, that doesn’t solidify I would actually do anything different. Maybe hindsight is actually 50/50 on whether one would change their path if they knew they were destined to fall. Maybe there is just as much chance I would continue on the same path and making the same choices even if it would cause me pain. Today, I don’t have to judge myself for that.

So I will continue to try to do more right than wrong, learn from the falls and not judge my past based on what I know to be true, just for today.

Imposture Syndrome

“Who do you think you are?”

“You are not smart enough.”

“Stay in your lane.”

“You are not good enough.”

“No you cannot.”

“You are NOT a writer.”

An actual recreation of the dialogue in my head during a battle of the dreaded imposture syndrome.

            As a therapist, many may think I am immune to some struggles. Maybe you think since I “know better” I do not wrestle with the questioning voice in my head as the rest of the human race. I am here today to bust that myth. I too suffer from imposture syndrome.

            If you are unfamiliar with this expression, let me give you a lesson because I bet your lack of experience with the phrase is less about not suffering from the symptoms and more about not having a term to describe it.

Imposture syndrome begins with a whisper of doubt. Many times this symptom presents itself when one is trying something new or going out on a limb with an innovative idea. The whisper may be easy to shake off at first, however the slightest acknowledgement provides the necessary energy for the whisper of doubt to grow into declarations of uncertainty. Before you know it, one can then find themselves engaged with an internal battle of constant destructive and discouraging narratives that gain enough momentum to have the power to shut down the novel innovation so that the individual remains stuck in their safe comfort zone of the same.

Strike a nerve yet?

I began writing my novel ten years ago. I wrote it because I love to write and I had a story to share. As recent as October 2024, when my novel was published on Amazon, I still struggled to claim the identity of being a writer. I continue to fight imposture syndrome.

I am a therapist (I have no problem letting that roll of my tongue or allowing my fingers to type). I have a degree in social work. I hold a license to practice therapy with multiple states. I have held jobs with title of “therapist”. Therapist is not a self-proclamation. The fact still remains, I am a therapist because I practice therapy. However, it has taken me years to accept that I am also a writer simply because I write.

When I worked nights in the emergency psychiatric unit at University Hospital, I would use downtime to work on my novel. I actually took that job so I would have more time to juggle being a mother, a wife and a social worker so I could write. I remember when one of the nurses, who happens to be the very first person to finish the very first version of my novel and remains a good friend to me today, caught me writing one night when our census was low. She asked what I was working on and I stuttered all over myself trying to come up with a feasible answer other than “I am writing a book.”

Once I professed this secret, there were no imposture police ready at the helm to call me out and no buzzer sounding off alerting everyone that I was not a “real” writer. My friend appeared genuinely excited to learn this about me and wanted to read what I had written. When I was vulnerable, the imposture syndrome symptoms were kept at bay.

Imposture Syndrome is rooted in fear. That fear can stem from fear of judgement from others to fear of failure. Unfortunately, we are all guilty of acting out of fear and the results rarely work out as we intended. Fear is no place to function from.

So what do we do? How do we begin to recover from this sinister syndrome? What is our weapon against this infectious self-doubt?

Radical self-acceptance.

That’s it.

A simple but not easy practice of fully accepting who you are in this moment. The willingness to be vulnerable and the practice of acceptance is the remedy for imposture syndrome.

Acceptance is not reserved for only the good stuff. Acceptance also allows us to acknowledge the flawed parts of us along with the shiny parts we are proud of. We are not required to like something or someone to accept them in their true form. This rule also reigns true for ourselves. 

The act of being vulnerable allows us to show up as our rawest selves. No filters. No explanations. We are fully present and fully us. Though, this does not protect us from criticism or struggle to claim who we are. This does not guarantee we will be fully accepted by anyone other than us. Vulnerability does not require validation from anyone else. (That doesn’t mean it isn’t nice to receive though).

There is no absolute cure for all the symptoms of imposture syndrome. Some may lie dormant for years, but given the right circumstances they can kick into high gear and return to wreak havoc on your thoughts. The maintenance plan of acceptance and vulnerability are the best defense to keeping your thoughts free from doubting yourself. Let’s all take a look at chatter going on in our minds and the words we use especially about ourselves.

I am who I am because I say I am (period).

Three F-words

Fight, Flight or Freeze. All responses to trauma. Three F-words for three distinct buckets of reactions to when we perceive we are in danger. Notice the use of the word “perceive”. It is there for a reason because I do not have to be facing death for my brain to believe I am in danger and act accordingly.

Fighting can mean the literal definition of the word. A use of force to escape death (or perceived death). It can also mean fighting against the truth, being in denial or refusal to accept the reality of your situation.

Flight is leaning into the escape from the pain. Some actually run away from the pain and flee the scene. Some drink (or whatever substance of choice) away the pain. The point of fleeing is avoiding the cards you have been dealt and essentially outrun the pain that is sure to follow.

Freezing is a newer addition to the F-word trio of responses, though it does not mean it is a new reaction. Freezing is playing dead. Flat-faced and disconnected from what is happening. Freezing stops you in your tracks and prevents you from feeling what is happening to you.

I’ve worked with trauma, personally and professionally, for many years. Again, notice my use of the words “worked with”. We do not fix or cure trauma; we work to alleviate the symptoms caused by traumatic experiences. There are many evidenced based interventions that have proven ways to treat reactions to trauma, however trauma is not cured. Trauma becomes a part of us.

I am certified in Accelerated Resolution Therapy (ART), which is an intervention that alleviates the symptoms of trauma. (Yes, actually dissolves the symptoms due to the traumatic experience). ART allows the individual to open up the part of the brain that decides which response has the best chance of survival. (Again, remember our brain has perceived a dangerous situation and self-preservation is the goal). ART allows us to change the emotions attached to the traumatic event. We keep the facts and we change our reaction. Now that we are away from the perceived danger, our brain allows us to change how the story was filed.

For example, when I participated in an ART intervention I used the experience of the night my father died and the emotions attached to that story. The experience, while intense, allowed me to let go of the fear associated with that loss. My father died 30 years ago. I remember every detail of the night when he was rushed to the hospital, even down to the memory of my father’s wedding band being on my mother’s finger when she came home from the hospital, which was the very first indicator he was gone. I remember it all. However, what I no longer carry is the fear associated with not having my father on this earth. Who would protect us? Who would provide for us? What does life look like without a dad?

ART allowed me to release the fear.

I miss my dad every day. There will always be grief in my heart for the man who raised me for fourteen years and taught me so much love. And after all this time, I can find peace with the grief being a part of me instead of the fear controlling me.

As a fourteen-year-old girl, I fought the reality of my father’s death. I fought the fear by trying to control it. I fought all the pain I felt by trying to be perfect in every other aspect of my life. If I could just make everything else be “okay” then I would not have to face the fear of being vulnerable, unprotected and the unknown instability of being down a parent.

Trauma does not need you to beat it. You merely have to learn to live with the trauma, accepting its place in your story. You by no means must accept the negative symptoms of trauma reactions. That is where interventions and treatment can be life-changing measures.

Very recently, I was triggered and experienced a trauma reaction. Not a welcomed experience nor one I have been forced to face for a long time. The experience caused me to freeze this time. My fear paralyzed me. For me, this frozen state looked like lack of emotion, disconnection with those close to me, sleepless nights and the inability to focus.

Because I had the experiences from my past and the knowledge of treating trauma reactions, I was able to identify these symptoms quickly and lean into what I know to be true: this too shall pass. I knew my brain had a perceived threat and chose to freeze as the best course of action for self-preservation. I leaned into the interventions that bring me back to a baseline and filter my thoughts instead of hanging onto the fears I know are not certain truth.

Life continues to happen all around us, all the time. Trauma and the possibility of triggers are not able to be controlled. The symptoms most certainly can be treated and alleviated. It’s not time that heals, it’s our intention to do so that does.

I share this today because trauma is complicated. There are so many interventions available to help. Instead of worrying about what’s the right one, start with your intention to heal. That is the most important decision of all. Trauma takes our control, and we can take it back just as long as we are willing to be vulnerable enough to ask for help.

Defying Gravity

I, like many, went to the movies to witness Wicked on the big screen. I’ve seen the Broadway show two times before with my mother and daughters. I can barely hear the song Defying Gravity without tears streaming down my face and clenched fists as I mouth the words to the closing line (it’s empowering…I suggest you look it up, give it a listen and try not to do the same thing). However, this is not a post with the purpose of reviewing the adaptation. (It was absolutely phenomenal for the record, tears and all!).

The beautiful lessons woven throughout the story are not new to anyone.

  1. Don’t judge a book by its cover.
  2. Not everything is as it seems.
  3. Those in power are not always to be trusted.
  4. Be kind first.

The lesson that was specifically stated in the movie and one that hit so hard for me was a direct quote. “The best way to bring folks together, is to give them a really good enemy.”

As an avid sports fan and a die-hard Louisville Cardinal fan, I have a lot of hate for opposing teams, particularly the Kentucky Wildcats. I enjoy sharing my hate for the Wildcats with other Louisville fans so the idea is not far-fetched or one I have not participated in. The reality of people needing an enemy to come together is terrifying and plays out more often than we care to believe.

Giving a target to aim your blame may feel comforting in the moment. It allows you to relinquish your responsibility. Blaming someone else for what happens to you is a get out of jail free card. The lack of accountability lifts the weight of self-reflection and acceptance.

That is not to say that you are to blame for everything that has happened to you. Life just happens. We are dealt cards all the time that are not of our choosing, but it does not mean someone else is to blame. There are struggles and hardships that are blameless, which can be the most frustrating of all.

I’ve found that when I function out of fear, I give myself a false start. Fear pushes me in the wrong direction and limits my options immediately. Fear’s purpose is self-preservation which is very helpful when my life is in danger. However, fear does not account for multiple choice. Fear forces me to the option that has the highest chance of my survival. However, survival is not always my focus. What if I prefer to thrive instead?

Let’s take a quick look back at the other four lessons from wicked. If I do not assume or judge someone based on what they look like and function with the understanding that everything is not always as it seems and realize that just because someone in power proclaims it that does not ensure it is the truth and most importantly when in doubt I practice kindness, there is no room left for fear.

This is not a new tactic to use nor a new lesson to learn. So why are we still using and learning this lesson over and over again?

We do not live in Pleasantville and I am not PollyAnna. We do not have to support, enjoy or even like everyone. I have people I hate. Hate takes energy, but sometimes I believe that energy is well spent. What I know to be true is, I can trust myself in knowing when it is time to let go of the hate. Hate alone doesn’t affect the focus of my energy. If I hate someone without action, they may walk around in blissful ignorance without a thought of me or my hate for them.

It’s when people take action on their hate that pulls us into a war we did not necessarily signup for. Being assigned an enemy and taking action is how actual war is engaged. Let’s take notice on how those assigning the enemies don’t actually ever seem to be doing any of the “hating” or fighting. Interesting…

(Another great quote from the musical/movie: Elphaba says to the Wizard “You have no real power.” – they never do, do they?)

I will continue my fair share of trash-talking when it comes to sports. It’s fun with no real hate for the individual I am talking to. I do plan to check myself and my motivations for how I look at others. Without guidance would we ever even look at people through the filter of us-vs-them? How many people even realize the notion of being “them” to your “us”?

There is a difference in not understanding someone and hating someone (or a group of someones). Just because I do not understand something, doesn’t mean it is wrong or opposing to me. While I trust myself, I may need to filter my thoughts and emotions through another great quote from the show Ted Lasso. “Be curious, not judgmental.”

I will try listening to understand and refrain from engaging in war just because I’m afraid or I’ve been assigned an enemy. I will look for ways to connect with others based on our humanness rather than hatred. One of my favorite ways to do that is through art, like after a really great movie that moved me to tears.  

Best Christmas Picture Ever

Shocking news…The Holidays are Tough

As we approach this week and kick off the holiday season, my stress levels begin to bubble and rise along with the amount of times Mariah Carey is played on the radio. The increase in extended family time with people I love but do not interact with on the regular as well as the search for gifts to simply fill a spot on my shopping list are added to my ruminating thoughts playlist that kicks off around 3am.

With so much to do, who has time to enjoy this most wonderful time of the year? NO ONE!

My unpopular opinion of the desire to fast-forward to January 2nd is on the rise. Many of us are tired of the hurry up, keep buying, smile-and-hug-people-I-haven’t-seen-since-last-year and for-the-love-of-god-take-the-picture themes of the holiday season. We shove so much into these few weeks that we begin the new year exhausted, broke and bloated.

As someone who is not a fan of winter, I am trying to embrace the hibernating bear lifestyle (turn inward and rest). The pressure of the perfect holiday shoves me right out of resting bitch face and directly into elevated anxiety bitch face. Holiday commercials suggest that throwing a bow on anything makes it all better. Well, a bow on a pile of crap is still a pile of crap.

And let’s not forget what the holidays also highlight…those who are not here with us to celebrate. For many of us, there are empty chairs at the dinner table and stockings with no owners. We have a hole in traditions that cannot be filled and that is hard to swallow along with all of the cheer.

What if we turned it down a notch? Maybe there is a little less on the calendar and a little more time to be present. Maybe it is not about the perfect gift, but maybe sharing gratitude that you get to be together. There are many reasons why families spend the holidays apart. Whether by choice or necessity, so many struggle with being present for all the presents. Let’s avoid making asses out of ourselves by assuming everyone is joyfully spending this time of year together.

So maybe this year the theme is cheerful acceptance. Acceptance for the moment and what that entails, the good and even the uncomfortable. Having 25 people in a two-bedroom condo (this was how we did the holidays with my husband’s grandmother years ago) is not comfortable, however today I think back fondly on those sweaty meals because she is gone now and I miss her. She was the happiest person there having all of her people crammed together and celebrating. It wasn’t comfortable, but it did not harm anyone and her home was full of love, good food and laughter.

Acceptance of boundaries. Maybe forcing our kids to sit on the lap of a strange man in a costume, telling him their greatest desires and smiling is not the best lesson. Maybe if they say they are uncomfortable or afraid we can try a new approach. With the same token, maybe we can speak out what we need whether it is excusing ourselves a little early from the festivities or staying home altogether. We do not have to abide by the unwritten rules of the season if those rules do not serve us. This is less about getting our way or not and more about listening to each other respecting the fact that no single person knows best of all.

I vow to be mindful this season. I will be present in the moment. I will respect the wishes and desires of others. I promise to listen to understand rather than to respond. I will ask for what I need. I will prioritize my needs so I can show up when and where I can in the way I want to.

It does not have to be the most wonderful time of the year for me to celebrate and enjoy the time of year. I can survive and advance and relish in the normalcy of today rather than the glitter of unrealistic expectations.

I wish you the holiday season you need!

Brain Fog

I’ve been walking around in a state of fog. Words struggle to find each other. Straining to form a complete thought. Anxiety takes over and I shut down. The brain fog of anxiety and depression rolls in heavy and hangs low.

I live on the outskirts of the city, not quite country but with plenty of room for fog to roam along with the intuitive deer that I love to watch from my front porch. When I leave my house with heavy fog and the sky still dark, I go slow. I change the head light setting on my car to help me navigate the fog. I stay alert and mindful of what’s going on around me. I do this for my safety, the protection of whoever is in the car with me and for my spirit animals (the deer).

In the past couple of weeks, I’ve had multiple clients report brain fog as a symptom of anxiety and depression. Clients feeling as though they cannot make decisions. Folks struggling to carry on conversations or even function in their days. I too felt that strain this last week and it is terrible.

The blanket of despair covered me with heavy clouds of “who cares” sprinkled with “what’s the point”. When I had simple decisions to make about minimal issues, I felt stuck and could not make the choice. At one point, I just laid on the couch and watched a rerun of a show I’ve seen about 1200 times because I wanted comfort rather than to be entertained. The weight of the fog pulled me down and I let it. I sat in it.

I know feelings and emotions. I process all the feelings and all the emotions every day of my life for a living. I know the importance of having awareness and acknowledgement of feelings. I preach all the time about acknowledging how we feel and sitting in the uncomfortable feelings to allow them to do their job. However…it’s not so easy when the shoe (or emotion in this case) is on my foot.

I do not like feeling helpless, hopeless, angry and sad. I do not like “sitting it in” and letting the feelings do their job because it is uncomfortable. Feelings exist for a reason and if we run away from them before they have a chance to do what they are intended to, those uncomfortable feelings will follow us and we will lose any control we had over how those feelings manifest in our lives.

Have you ever had road rage or unloaded on someone who didn’t deserve it? Have you ever found yourself in tears for “no good reason”? (That is the effect of not letting uncomfortable feelings do their job – that is loss of control.)

So, when the uncomfortable comes. I will listen to my own words and sit in the shit. I will let sadness, anger, helplessness and pain do their business. I will have awareness of their presence and acknowledge their purpose (even when I do not know their purpose). I will not run away and avoid the pain. BUT I will also not stay there forever. I will not succumb to pain, only learn from it. Then, I will dose it with the best antidote…gratitude. I may even find gratitude for the uncomfortable which teaches me lessons to help me later.

And as the fog begins to lift (as well as my ass off the couch), I will push forward, change my headlight setting back to normal and I will keep going. I will take with me the lessons and I will be ready to do it again when the fog rolls in. And the fog will return because life is tough and pain is inevitable and each time I learn more to help me and those around me when we need it. And for that I have gratitude.

My Mind’s Highway and How I Travel

I prefer anger over grief. Anger gives me the illusion of control. “I am mad and let me tell you why!”

I have been known to hang on to grudges like tiny little birds. I keep them safely tucked away in their cages preventing the process of acceptance from occurring and letting go of what hurt me.

I am a great scorekeeper. I know who did what to me along with the date and location of injury. If I am angry, you earned it. These grudges were a direct result of me being in control rather than being taken advantage of. It is my god-given right to hold on and be mad. (Unfortunately, I am not referring to a time long, long ago…I am still evolving).

Anger is much easier to feel than grief.

Grief creeps up and tackles me out of nowhere. Grief does not have to give reasons for its presence, it just shows up and takes control over me. Grief is all consuming and irrational and messy.

Try catching a glimpse of yourself after an ugly cry. It’s not my best look.

Grief comes in many forms of feelings…sadness, anger, fear, and even shock. Grief is also not limited to death. Loss produces grief. The loss of someone. The loss of a way of life. The loss of something important to us whether anyone else can understand or not.

So why does it matter which we are experiencing? Grief or Anger? It matters because unless we are honest with ourselves and acknowledge our true emotions it is more difficult to find peace and healing. To go a step further, if we cannot find peace and healing then we will continue to compound each injury and amount of pain until we are ready to unload or implode. Neither of which are great options.

Our thoughts, much like our feelings, run through our minds like a highway. One thought followed by the next with no filter of facts. That is our job. Thoughts do not equal truths. We are responsible for examining our thoughts by holding them up to the light of reality to avoid the hamster wheel of spiraling into the abyss of overthinking and drowning in emotions.

This is NOT to say we are not entitled to our individual thoughts and feelings about everything, however do we really want to walk around with just our perspective? Our way of thinking about a situation is the only way? (Not that it wouldn’t be nice for a while, but how boring for any real length of time).

Acceptance does not require us to like whatever it is. We can be sad or mad or afraid or annoyed AND still accept life on life’s terms. When we can find a place of acceptance, we are better able to trust our thoughts and feelings. It is easier to find the light of reality and hold up whatever comes through our mind’s highway. The best part is finding peace and healing becomes actual options rather than far off lands of enlightenment we believe to be unachievable.

So how do you accept life on life’s terms? Do I have to just lay down and let life happen to me?

Absolutely not!

You can, however, change the things you can and let go of those you cannot. That is accepting life on life’s terms.

If something is bothering you, find a place to take action to change it. I may not have control over the United States Supreme Court and the decisions they make about what I can and cannot do with my body (which I feel anger, sadness, and fear about). I do have control over my response and reactions to their decisions. I have the power and ability to advocate for change and protest what I disagree with. I can educate my daughters on the importance of voting and being an active member in society.

On a smaller scale, I get pissed when people I trust disappoint me. I get angry (and sad) and I do not have control over how other people treat me. I do have control over who I let in my life and who I spend time with. I can find acceptance and even peace with people who have hurt me and grieve that loss as I heal.

When you are feeling overwhelmed and unsure of your emotions and maybe even distrustful of your thoughts, stop and take a moment to examine your mind’s highway. Be honest with yourself.

I would much rather be angry with someone who hurt me and call my girlfriends and tell them all about why I am mad and how I plan to harbor this resentment from now until the end of time. Though, if I am honest about what I am feeling I can acknowledge I grieve what I thought was friendship and the person I trusted. I accept that their behavior, not their words show me who they are, and I have choices on who I let in my life. That is life on life’s terms and that is the path to peace for me. I chose to travel that way.

I’m STILL Not Fine and Neither Are You

I get to train leaders of a large company on trauma. Granted, there aren’t gobs of people lining up to teach trauma, however, I get to. My work-wife (aka colleague) and I have to prepare ourselves before getting up in front of a room of very smart and responsible people to teach them how to allow themselves and their employees to be human. We don’t share our personal traumatic histories and stories, however it takes a lot of energy to make the impact we feel is important to make.

Inevitably, there are head nods in agreement and note taking as we continue through our material making good points that deserve highlighting. However, my favorite part is when we give the group permission to not be okay. We get to see a communal sense of relief roll over the group as shoulders release with a chorus of grateful exhales. By simply giving permission for people to be human we allow people to step into their truth so they can then welcome others along with them. When we all show up a little more honestly, we have a chance to truly live rather than survive.

I said these words in the training we facilitated yesterday, “I’m not fine and neither are you. And who wants to live as fine? I don’t. I have no desire to survive life. I want to live and that requires me to show up in an honest way.”

A harmonious, concurrent head nod occurred from the group. I thought to myself ‘my work here is done.’

I’m Not Fine And Neither Are You (scarymommy.com)

I remain proud of this piece and the positive impact it had on people. It was a giant step into the light of truth and vulnerability in writing that I had not been brave enough to share before. I am so grateful I did and so grateful to continue to be on that path with you all!

Thank you for reading & supporting me!

Peace and Love,

Steph ✌️🧡

Healing Through Storytelling

“In the end, we all become stories.” – Margaret Atwood

A good story sticks with you. A character you root for. A setting you find familiar. The story is the vehicle for the lesson shared.

The learned lesson imprints on my mind and soul when it occurs from a story. A cautionary tale which warns of the devastating effects of risky behavior or the how-to directions to decipher through a family recipe passed down through generations are meant to teach us something about ourselves. Whether through someone’s pain or triumph, the lesson remains with me because of the story.  

Whether it’s standstill traffic pissing them off or the agony of loss, as a therapist the story is my glimpse into their experience, their perspective. The lens of perspective is tinted with the individual’s identity, and it is that identity which shapes how they interrupt the world around them. Perspective is key in understanding.

Therapy is essentially three parts. Listening, Validating and Trusting.

Listening is just that, shutting our mouths and opening our ears. Listening to understand is empathizing with one’s perspective or position. Remaining present with the storyteller and holding the space for them to share important details is the active part of listening. It’s not difficult to spot the difference between waiting to speak and active, compassionate listening.

We all need to have our experiences validated. Validation does not require someone co-signing all our life’s decisions. It does allow for acceptance of our purpose. Contentment is finding peace and purpose in our day. That’s it. We all want to know our experience matters and to find a way to rest with solace at the end of the day.

Entrusting our stories and experiences to someone else is a sharing of ethical responsibility. When a person takes advantage of this human exchange, there is an immediate void in the experience. The storytelling then becomes a source of pain and doubt. Trust separates healers from predators.

I do not meet people on their finest day. Most people do not seek help from therapy when life is sunshine and rainbows 24/7. Most people come in hot with their hair on fire seeking answers to extinguish the flames.

Once a person travels the distance to find a therapist, schedule the appointment and then show up to the session they hope to find some relief by unloading the charred baggage at the feet of the authority on peace (who does not exist).

There is no answer waiting to be uncovered or classified document given out to therapists upon graduating therapy school (which also does not exist).

The story is not complete. The next chapter is waiting to be written.

Trust that if you are still smoldering from the fire, your story is not complete.

Trust in the healing of being the storyteller.  

You came in hot and showed up on fire. Your freedom lies in the ashes that remain and the story you create.

When we risk vulnerability and tell our stories, we allow others to learn from and find hope in our experience. We are not defined by a single chapter or event in our story. We are the entire book.

One person’s struggle is not uniquely theirs. Struggle is universal. I don’t have to be you to relate to your struggle. We can find a common ground built on empathy and learn from each other.

I’ve worked with folks from different countries who spoke different languages and yet still we found a place of understanding and healing.

A young, single father let me in his home to listen to his story after being misunderstood most of his life. His story read very differently on paper than it did when I heard it on his living room couch. Since I listened to understand this man who is the expert on his own life, I was able to share lessons I learned to empower him to express himself and communicate his family’s needs. He finished his own chapter as the hero because we both were willing to be vulnerable and learn.

I met a woman who’s story looked familiar from ones I’d seen before. A story which consisted of selling her body to support her addiction. However, when I listened rather than sent her own her way, I learned she wasn’t selling anything. She was the victim who couldn’t find the words to ask for help. I even used storytelling to give her the words she didn’t have to help her find safety and write a new chapter on her own terms.

As a collector of stories, I listen and learn from each person I’ve seen and share these lessons to help the next person. My grandmother, who as a girl walked to school in the snow uphill both ways while dodging a bull in the field, continuously told us that story as we were growing up to define the struggle of actually getting to school. She was very animated when telling about how her father, my great-grandfather would use a pitchfork to keep the bull at bay while her and her siblings would cross the field to get to school each day. She typically pulled this story out when my brother or I would complain about school. She had to fight to go to school and we merely had the privilege of complaining about it. My grandmother went on to graduate from nursing school which was not a typical story at that time. I hold on to her diploma as one of my treasures because her struggle laid the path for me to finish graduate school.

Therapy works best when the storyteller is brave enough to go the distance, learn the lessons and continue their story. A good therapist will not tell you what to do. A good therapist will set the table and allow you to pick your seat and invite the rest of the guests and even plan the menu. They may guide you and make suggestions on the appetizers or wine choice, but you are the expert on your story and your life.

You are the guru at the top of your mountain.

You are the extinguisher for your fire.

You are the freedom in the ashes that remain.

And if the story isn’t going the way you want, there’s nothing like a good plot twist…

The Beauty of Being a Woman

Our ability to use delicate strength as well as brutal force when necessary.

The rainbow of colors and shapes of our hair which pulls back the curtain to tell a piece of our story.

How a trademark ring can be more than an accessory and transform into an heirloom.

When the type of shoes she wears can tell you the kind of day she is heading into – whether it requires shit-kicking boots or the clack of heels on the hallway to get the job done.

A magical kiss of a mother to heal any wound or the silent look she gives to shut down a situation without the need of threat.

The comradery acknowledged using one word between two women… ‘GIRL’…

The immeasurable energy created when a group of women gather and hum of laughter and conversation between friends of any length of time.

We are women and we celebrate each other today for all that we are.

The roles we play in our families, our workplaces, our friendship circles and our communities are vital and irreplaceable. The conventional roles of nurturers and healers for communities are not to be dismissed by but commended in addition to the innovative paths women are paving in careers and solidifying other respected roles.

Our history includes times of pain and grief to ensure our rights as human beings and not the lesser sex. Equal access to health care and even voting was not inherently bestowed to us, so we had to take those rights through whatever means necessary. Those rights were taken by women coming together in support of each other.

We spend far too much time sitting in comparison judgement of one another. Whether it’s through social media posts or carpool lines, rather than celebrating the woman next to us we tend to criticize her for the car she drives, the job she does or doesn’t have and if she is wearing the current trend. Some of these traps to keep us against one another are by design, so let’s breakthrough the smoke and mirrors to come together for one another.

I see you. I celebrate you. I am grateful for you, phenomenal women!